A/N: Sorry about the delay in update...I had exams and i tried to study for them...shouldn't have bothered - failed anywayz...but back to doing the thing I actually like doing :D

Chapter Eighteen

Teyla opened her eyes, blinking a few times, the image before her was blurred and incredibly bright.

"She's awake!" an unfamiliar voice said.

It was followed by the sound of chair screeching across the floor and footsteps heading in her direction.

"Where am I?" she asked, trying to sit up.

She instantly regretted it, her arms were weak and unable to support her own weight, she fell instantly back, her head meeting with her pillow again.

"That's not a wise idea, lass," Carson's voice now. "You're back in Atlantis…"

"Aiden…?" she asked, quietly, almost as though she was afraid of asking.

The looked quickly shared between Carson and the man standing on the other side of her confirmed her suspicions, she didn't want to know the answer.

"Well he's alive…" Carson started.

"Alive? And here?" she asked.

"Yes he's in the next room," Carson said.

She tried to sit up again, forgetting her earlier failure, but this time she succeeded in pushing herself up far enough that she could lean against her pillow. "I must see him."

"He's not…Teyla he's unconscious," Carson said slowly.

"But he is alive?" she said.

Carson nodded.

"Then I must see him…" she said.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that," Carson said.

"Well if you will not, than I must do it myself," she said, slowly moving her legs to the edge of the bed, threatening to get out, but knowing there was no way she could stand, in fact she could barely feel the lower half of her legs.

"There's no chance you're walking on those legs," Carson said.

"Then I will drag myself by my teeth to the next room…" she said, glaring at him.

"How about I get a wheel chair?" he suggested.

She didn't reply. He seemed to take this as a yes and walked off.

She looked down at her legs. They were blue, completely covered in bruising, that was in the parts she could see, the rest was covered in bandages. She looked at her arms, the same there. The memory of what exactly had happened slowly came back to her, and she instantly felt like vomiting.

"You OK? You don't look so good…" Carson said, returning to the room, pushing a wheelchair.

"I'm fine," Teyla lied.

The two doctors helped her into the wheelchair, and Carson slowly wheeled her into the room next door. Aiden Ford was hooked up to machines which were still unfamiliar to her, he lay flat on his back, eyes shut. She wanted to run to him, to shout at him to wake up. He had to be OK, if he wasn't it would be her fault. She should have done more to save him.

"I want to be alone," Teyla said as Carson stopped the chair next to Ford's bed.

Carson didn't reply, but walked out of the room. She heard him pause at the door and look back, but then he was gone.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, the weight of an arm still lightly wrapped around her waist, a hand still barely clasped in hers. She lifted her hand slowly, placing her fingers against his slowly, assuring herself of his presence. He was breathing against her neck, obviously fast asleep. The light was seeping through into the room, but a quick glance at the clock reassured her that no one would seek her out for at least another hour.

She turned slowly, to face the man who was sleeping like a log next to her. She reached forward and placed her hand against his chest softly, feeling it rise and fall slowly. She looked up to his face, it was calm and relaxed, and for the first time in weeks she felt the same, forgetting all about the outside world. This was where she wanted to be, and she wanted to be there for a long time, for as long as she could. But she knew after he woke up, after they departed for the morning, that it would be the end.

She felt tears well up within her at the knowledge that this would most likely be the last time, at least in the near future, that either of them allowed the other one to get so close. She wasn't sure exactly why it was wrong, but it was. There was nothing specifically in the rules that kept them apart, but yet there was nothing and no one to condone any actions they might consider.

Mitchell certainly wouldn't approve.

She wanted the moment to last forever, to be able to stare at his recently shaven face, his boyish charm. He was so close, and it took all the self-restrain that she contained not to reach up and place her hand on his cheek, to wake him up and greet him with a morning kiss, a habit she had long ago forged with someone else, and long since forgotten…

A sudden realisation over her feelings hit her like a hurricane. She was lying in bed with John Sheppard, his arm draped around her, while Ford and Teyla both remained in hospital beds, in pain. She stared at him for a few more seconds, drawing in every possible picture, smell, sensation of their closeness, placing it in her memory, before slowly lifting his arm from where it still loosely lay around her, and slipping quietly out of the bed.

She realised she still wore her uniform. She grabbed her jeans and a shirt that were still lying over her chair from a week or so earlier, and entered the bathroom. She got dressed slowly, a part of her knowing that if she went out there, she might not like what she met. She watched her reflection in the mirror, wondering when she had begun to look and feel like a ghost. She was paler than she remembered, thinner, her hair hung loosely around her face. A sadness seemed to haunt her expression, one that even a fake smile couldn't seem to shake.

She'd changed. She could see that clearly in her reflection. The last part of the old Elizabeth Weir had seemingly died in that torture room, along with the Wraith she had murdered. She didn't feel like herself anymore, in fact she wasn't sure at all of who she was. If she wasn't Dr. Elizabeth Weir, negotiator for peace treaties, occasionally head of secret government programs or expeditions, then who was she?

A soldier.

Elizabeth Weir the soldier, the warrior, the fighter…

The words haunted her. She had become the thing she'd been fighting to prevent people from becoming her entire life. She remembered being in elementary school and making the boys talk out their problems rather than hitting each other. She had studied hard, through her university life demonstrating against weapons and the military, and once she graduated had taken the knowledge with her to get to the problem at its core. War. The entire reason for the need for weapons and military, she had spent her whole life trying to prevent killing.

And yet there she stood, staring at a stranger in the mirror, wondering how she had become the thing she'd once fought to destroy.

She turned around and exited the bathroom, not wanting to think about it for as long as she could possibly avoid. She paused as she threw her work uniform over her chair, glancing again at John. He was asleep, fast asleep, unusual for a soldier, as they all seemed to be programmed to wake up at the smallest sound or movement. Although she figured he probably hadn't slept since he'd descended, which gave him plenty of reason to be tired. Something was vaguely tugging at the back of her mind, but she didn't know if it was real or if she'd imagined it.

"I love you too."

The words were bouncing around her head all of a sudden, spoken in John's soft voice, so quietly she hadn't been sure she'd heard it. It had been real, hadn't it? The same way that the kiss they'd shared, but hadn't, had been real.

Feelings came flooding back into her mind. The fear, the anger, the sadness, the tears…Every emotion she'd felt after losing him suddenly welled up inside of her. How could it be that she'd buried them so easily? That it was almost like she'd forgotten her own grief.

He moved slightly and she jumped, afraid he would wake up and she'd have to face him. She moved toward the door, but paused again as she reached it.

The cowards way out.

That's what she was doing, escaping before she had to face up to her feelings for him. But she couldn't do it, she wouldn't let herself give in. She opened the door and walked out, as quickly as she could manage.

The door slid open in front of him, and Rodney walked into the room, sandwich in hand. He stopped suddenly, noticing Teyla was sitting alone next to Ford's bed.

"Oh, sorry…" he said. "I was just coming to bring food to the Lieutenant, because I thought maybe if he had something to look forward to he might…wake up…"

Teyla didn't look at him but she smiled slightly. "I'm sure we all wish that were the case."

Rodney placed the plate containing the sandwich on the table next to Teyla. "So uh…how are you feeling?"

"I will be fine," she replied.

"What about now?"

She remained silent for a few moments, then turned to looked at him. "Not well, but as I said, I will be fine."

She smiled and then looked back at Ford. For the first time Rodney looked down at the marine that he barely knew, considering they'd been on a team together, and had never really gotten along all that well with. He noted that Teyla had placed her hand on top of Ford's, and for a moment he wondered if there was more going on there too.

Why was it that everyone seemed to have people except him? Was he really that arrogant and obnoxious that no one cared for him? That no one ever would…

"He's going to be OK," he blurted out suddenly.

"I wish I had your confidence," she replied.

Rodney placed his hand on her shoulder. "You just have to be positive…"

He noticed a small stone sitting on the table next to where he had placed the sandwich.

"What's that…" he asked.

"An Athosian healing stone," she replied, not moving her to eyes to look at what he was referring to. "It is supposed to help him heal faster…it does not appear to be working."

"You don't know that," Rodney replied.

"They why is he not waking?"

Her voice was cracking. He looked at her in surprise. He had never seen a weak moment in Teyla. She held herself strong even more-so than Elizabeth. Occasionally he had seen her and Sheppard break out in an argument, and she had elbowed Bates, but not like this. He wondered what she'd been through, what they'd been through together. He couldn't even begin to imagine. He'd been on a couple of Wraith ships now, and every time he'd felt unsettled, cold and fearful, he didn't want to know what it felt like to held and tortured by the Wraith for close to a week.

"Teyla…" Rodney wasn't entirely sure what to say.

"As I said, I will be fine, I do not need your pity, or anyone else's, and now I wish to be left alone," she said.

Rodney removed his hand from her shoulder, but not himself from the room.

"Leave me!" she said, turning to face him.

"Teyla I just want to help…"

"Go away!" she shouted.

He was startled for a moment, then turned and left the room, afraid of what might happen to him if he didn't.