To all the fights I've conquered and behold
The times have changed and I will now move over slowly…
But through it all I still feel lost without you
Hard to find a new soul
The silence takes its toll
-Lostprophets, "Sway"
Elizabeth Weir rubbed her tired eyes as she sighed softly. It had been about an hour and a half since any radio message had come through to Atlantis. She sighed, putting her head in her hands. Nearly an hour ago she'd convinced Peter and Rodney to try and help elsewhere. Her weary eyes moved across the control room. It was amazing how much the room seemed to change. She could clearly remember the mystique and homely feeling that had occupied the room only hours before. But now the room—and Atlantis itself—seemed to be so…empty, like a shell of its former self. 'It almost seems as if the city has already accepted its fate…' Elizabeth shook her head. No, they would defeat the Wraith. They had to.
So caught up in her thoughts, she jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. She looked back immediately, and relaxed when she realized it was only Rodney. He was frowning, watching her with a concerned look on his face. Elizabeth blew out the breath of air she'd been holding as she looked at him. "You scared me," she stated the obvious.
"I'm sorry," he replied, sitting down cautiously in a chair next to her. Elizabeth noted vaguely that his hand, warm and comforting, hadn't left her shoulder yet. Not that she was complaining… "Are you sure you're okay?" Rodney asked seriously.
Elizabeth pursed her lips slightly. "I'm worried about everyone," she told him. It was so easy to talk to him. "I feel like…if someone dies…it will be my fault."
"That's preposterous," Rodney scoffed, " Elizabeth, it's no less your fault than it is anyone else's on Atlantis. The Wraith are the ones who should take the blame, not you."
"I know…but I can help it. I'm the one that ordered them out there…" she frowned deeply.
"It was their choice to stay here and help fight for Atlantis," Rodney reminded her. "Stop beating yourself up about it." Elizabeth looked over at Rodney and attempted a small smile. It was quickly lost on her lips, but Rodney didn't seem to notice. In the comfortable silence Elizabeth pondered quietly. When they had first arrived on Atlantis she had found Rodney particularly aggravating, as had, she suspected, the rest of the expedition members. But over time she had been able to see a side of him that only a few others saw. It had come gradually, but the day he stepped in front of a gun pointed at her…it had struck her speechless. She knew that she would've never pictured this: Rodney reassuring her. It seemed like an oxymoron, she supposed. Like John being wise. Of course, that was wrong too. John tended to act in the moment, but he had displayed several sporadic times of wisdom.
"JT-1 retreat!" John's voice cut through the speakers. Elizabeth stiffened immediately.
"What's going on, John?" she questioned loudly.
"They caught onto our plan. A group of Darts is ambushing us from behind," John grunted. Behind Elizabeth, Rodney winced at the noise of the shots coming through the radio.
"Jumper shield is down sixty percent," Lieutenant Crown's voice, muffled but audible, came through the speaker.
"We're taking direct hits," John told Elizabeth. "We're trying to regroup and attack."
"Lead them away from a planet," Rodney spoke up, "Have one jumper stay behind at the back. The other jumpers can split apart and then you can bomb them."
John was either considering his plan or trying not to get blown up—or both, judging by the silence of his lips. "I never volunteered myself to be that jumper, Rodney," he said finally.
Rodney rolled his eyes. "But you would've, anyway."
"We'll give it a try," John said reluctantly, and Rodney felt a smile tugging his lips at John's reluctance to say that McKay had learned a few things about military situations. "Where the hell is Prometheus?"
"They should be here within two hours," Elizabeth said. Rodney glanced at her, noticing the paleness of her skin and the worry in her eyes. Given a mirror, he would've seen that his face mimicked hers.
"What? Why—" John was cut off by Lieutenant Crown's yelling.
"We've lost Stackhouse and Simpson!"
"Shit," John hissed beneath his breath. "Jumper 4 out." The radio cut to silence. Elizabeth sat down in the nearby chair, her eyes wide. She closed her eyes and was surprised to find a stream of anger within her.
"Rodney," she said, straining to keep her voice calm.
"Yes?" he replied, his heart still sinking at the news of the two officers. Correction, one officer. Simpson was a doctor—Rodney's responsibility. He ran a hand over his hair, internally struggling with the revelation.
"Find a way to send a long range signal into space. We need to communicate with Prometheus."
"Right," Rodney nodded, walking quickly over to one of the laptops. Elizabeth set her elbows on the side of the gate dialing system and massaged her forehead with her fingers. Two good men gone, not to mention anyone else on the mainland who had fallen victim to the Wraith. As if to torment her, her mind recalled an image of Carson.
Elizabeth stood, walking over to the speaker controls. From what Peter had hurriedly explained to her one day, the base would receive all frequencies but would only respond on one of the messenger. She frowned, changing the channel from 'open' to the one they'd issued for the mainland mission. "This is Elizabeth Weir. Come in," she looked at the gate, well aware of Rodney's quick glance toward her. "Come in," she repeated. "Anyone?" her words finished with a small whisper.
"Ay, 'tis well to hear your voice again, Elizabeth," Carson's strained voice came through, although fuzzily. Elizabeth felt her body sag in relief.
"What's going on over there, Carson?"
"I am in one of the Athosian caves. The jumpers are attacking the hive ship."
"Any success?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
"They haven't been in radio contact," Carson Beckett answered tentatively.
"Give me an update whenever you can," Elizabeth said wearily. "Stay safe, Carson."
"Ay, and you."
Elizabeth changed the frequency back to 'open' and walked over to Rodney. "Any luck?"
"Yes," he replied, "Just one more—ah, there." He pressed in a few keys before standing and walking over to the speaker controls.
"Tell me when I can start," Elizabeth told him.
Rodney nodded. "Just one more… There we go. Start…now."
"This is Elizabeth Weir of Atlantis. Prometheus, we desperately need your help. Our forces are failing to that of the Wraith. We cannot hold them off for much longer. In case of a total failure, we will have to use the self-destruct system. We're hoping you can get here by then," she bit her lip. "Please make contact if you receive this message." There were several beats of silence, and Elizabeth looked over at Rodney.
"It worked," he replied. "The message has been sent."
The silence continued. Just as Elizabeth's hope began to wane, a voice came through the speaker. "We read you loud and clear, Atlantis. We've increased speed as much as we can. We will be there in one hour." Elizabeth glanced at Rodney. Neither of them voiced the thought that was running through both of their minds.
Atlantis wouldn't survive another hour.
