Author's Note: This is really different than what I really write...it's first person, obviously, and from Rodney's POV. -shrug- Hope you guys like anyway! Feedback and constructive criticism welcome!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story itself.
Warning: Character death.

Faith. It's something I never thought I'd find myself wanting. To me as a child, it was interesting how so many people could believe in some supreme being with so little evidence. It took me years to figure out why so many people had these beliefs in someone. Faith provides a cushion for the unknown things in life. I'd figured out the reason for religion plain and simple by the time I was a teenager. All the unanswerable questions in life could be answered in one simple word: "God". God made it so, God created it… I suppose the reason for my theological 'enlightenment' was my love for science. In science, there was an answer for everything. And if there wasn't one…in time there would be. I guess that's why I became a scientist. There's always an answer out there somewhere and it doesn't include some protagonist of a story tale.

Considering the negative—and harsh, I suppose—views I had then on religion…it's a wonder to me why I would want it now…now, while I lie here on my deathbed. Hilarious piece of irony, isn't it? The thing that I spent nearly my entire life despising becoming the one thing I want when faced with certain death. No, that's not right. I still want to visit the Niagara Falls; never got to see that. Still didn't get to watch "Grease" or "Ghandi". But back to faith… Back then, I didn't know the other reasons why people believed in faith. Always thought it was just a lack of intelligence on their part. It was obvious to me, at least, that science was the reason the universe was created. But faith, it's just not there for those unknown questions; it's for comfort. I know now the burden that I and other unreligious people carry on their shoulders. Faith provides comfort in the darkest hours. You can believe that it will all be okay… You can believe in someone who is up there to help you; to guide you through. You can believe in an afterlife; a safe haven after death passes over you.

Sitting here, I wish I had that comfort. I wish I knew that I would be heading to some sort of heaven, I wish I knew someone was watching over me…but it was too late now. Far too late. All I have is the cold rushing through me. I know Carson is trying his hardest to ease the pain, to fix me…but I know it's not going to happen. The morphine feels like ice through my veins, but my lips have long since stopped working so it is useless to try and convince him to stop pumping it through me. It has been about a week or thereabouts since I got here.

My luck was never that good, but that day was an exception. It was a regular mission: forest-y planet, small civilization in the distance… However, the natives turned out to be not so friendly. They had bows and arrows—but we ran back to the 'gate anyway. The modified—a nice term for scavenged—UAV had shown a small area with life signs, but there were hundreds of them. I can only guess that there were surrounding villages. They were all chasing us. We retreated back to the 'gate, shooting as we went. No matter that we were more advanced—one arrow to the heart could do as much damage if it hit you as a bullet could.

We made it to the 'gate all right, John bringing up the rear as usual. He always has to play hero. One day he's going to get himself killed. All the more to join me, I suppose. He made sure Teyla and Ford passed through the 'gate, and then he motioned for me to go. I wish I would've gone right then. I would've been alive now, happily complaining to Elizabeth just to watch her roll her eyes, to her the sound of her angelic voice. But I'd never have that chance again. John reached across and grabbed me, hauling me to the 'gate with him. I stumbled along and we stepped forward into the 'gate. It was at the exact moment, the precise millisecond that the arrow hit me. I felt the pain in my lower back as my body sagged, falling into the 'gate. I guess I passed out en route, because the next thing I remember was waking up to Carson hovering over me, concerned look on his face.

I was paralyzed. I couldn't move my legs or my arms. I had a little movement in my wrists and fingers, but that was it. Carson explained my condition to me with an expression on his face that John and I had just weeks before jokingly labeled the 'you're doomed' look. Only now it's different. I'm not going to be able to laugh about it anymore. Carson told me that the arrow had gone into my lower back. I was drugged up and the rest of what he was saying was pretty hazy. He said something about a torn spinal chord—it could've been spleen; his words were jumbled to my ears—and poison.

That's what I remember clearly: poison. The arrow had been dipped in a foreign poison. No one had any clue how to reverse it. I knew then that it was hopeless. By my paralysis, I guessed it was fast-moving. Carson had tried to be optimistic, but there was no way to reverse this. It was too far gone already.

I could speak—very little, but still, it was there—for the first three days. The team came there, the few scientists that weren't plotting against me, Elizabeth… They told me to get well soon; as if I had a chance to live; as if I had a choice. I didn't have the heart to correct any of them. Especially not Elizabeth, those tears bright in her eyes, ready to fall. The next four days leading up to now were horrible. My speech left me, as well as what little motion I had. I can still tilt my head a little, but that's all. The ability to open my eyes left me yesterday. There are no words to describe what I feel happening to my insides. My blood burns when the morphine isn't in my system; it feels as if my organs are slowly shriveling into useless little bits… Thankfully I've grown numb to the physical pain.

Elizabeth is here. I can't explain how I know, exactly. I can smell the faint aroma of her perfume, I can hear the scraping of the chair as she sits…but there's something else that tells me of her presence. She's been here several times. I wonder why she bothers visiting me anymore. I know only by passing voices that it has been a week. How long had Elizabeth sat next to my bedside, talking to someone who is nearly a vegetable?

I should have told her when she came before. When I could still speak. I should've told her everything, but I couldn't. I couldn't squash the hope twinkling in her eyes. There was so much I have to say to her, and I will never get to say it. She will go on in her life never knowing…never knowing how much I…

How much I loved her.

I feel her hand in mine, the slightest stinging showing I still had feeling there, and I know I have to believe. I need to believe in someone; someplace… I can't leave like this, I can't… I can't bear the thought that this was the end, that I may never see her again.

Only with her presence over me, with her hand in mine, can I allow myself to deny all that I had believed earlier. Only with her here, I allow myself to believe.

I will see her again.

The thought gives me the strength to let go to whatever I was holding onto; the faintest beam of light. The darkness settles over me; everywhere. I'd grown accustomed to the blindness, but this is different. It spread over me quickly, and I know what it is. It didn't have a name; it doesn't need a name. I can feel my body sink into the bed further, the life slowly leaving my limbs. If I had control over my lips, I would smile. The coldness was gone…and soon I would be. As the last moments of my life come over me, I struggle to open my mouth and whisper the words that Elizabeth needs to hear from me. The struggle for speech leaves me…and I'm left with nothing. A blinding light fills my eyes in a brilliant flash.

And noweverything is gone.