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Roughly an hour later, Elizabeth lay wide awake in her bed, staring up at her black ceiling. Carson had examined her head wound, given her a clean bill of health, then ordered her to get some rest. For the last ten minutes, she'd been trying to do just that, and despite her extreme exhaustion, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. She felt restless and boxed in, not to mention bored out of her mind. Finally getting fed up, she decided to go for a walk to clear her head.

She hadn't meant to end up in the infirmary, staring at Rodney's lifeless body, yet here she stood. He looked so pale and still, Elizabeth could easily see how he could be mistaken for dead. She sat silently by his bed, in awe of the stillness all around her. The air seemed thick with it, like she could feel it pressing on her from all sides. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand lightly, shocked at how cold and soft she found it. She closed her eyes against the tears she refused to acknowledge, and choked out, "We'll fix this, Rodney. We have to."

oOo

The next thing she knew, she was being tapped on the shoulder, her groggy mind trying desperately to hold on to the last vestiges of sleep. She was dreaming that she was back on Earth, sitting on a park bench next to Rodney, holding his hand. It would have been lovely, if he wasn't wearing that fireman's helmet. The next thing she knew, John was there in full Western regalia, complete with ten-gallon, six-shooter, and spurs. He leaned in close, so close she could smell his aftershave. It smelled nice, like cocoa powder. Wait, was he saying something? Yes, but what was it? "Elizabeth?" She blinked. "I brought you some hot chocolate." She blinked again, finally focusing on his face inches from hers.

"John?" She rubbed at her tired eyes, then realized she was still holding Rodney's hand. She released it, and took the offered cup from John, breathing in the smell of chocolate. Somehow it reminded her of Rodney, either because he always had some stashed somewhere on his person or because he ate so much of it that it seemed to ooze from his pores, she didn't know. But that was one of the things she missed about him. His ghost version didn't have a smell.

She didn't realize how hungry she was until her stomach growled. As if on cue, John produced a Powerbar from behind his back. She accepted it with a grateful smile. Tearing into the shiny gold wrapper, she asked, "How is Rodney?"

John sat heavily in the chair next to her. "He's okay, I guess. Last I heard, he wouldn't leave the lab, and Zelenka was threatening to give me the security code to his room, then make me ransack his room for my lost Johnny Cash CD. I think he's just upset that he can't get his groove on with Miko if Rodney's hanging around." This earned the desired chuckle from Elizabeth. "How are you doing?" he asked, his concern evident.

"I'm okay," she answered. "I'm a little stiff, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Yeah, well, sleeping in a hospital chair for three hours will do that to you. Do you think they make them this uncomfortable on purpose? To make people more anxious to leave when visiting hours are over?"

Elizabeth stared at him. "Three hours? Is that how long I was out?" She tried to rub some of the stiffness from her joints.

John shrugged. "Hey, don't look at me. I wanted to wake you up about an hour ago, but Carson wouldn't let me. I believe his exact words were, and I quote," John imitated Carson's voice using a bad Sean Connery impression, "Sheppard, let the lass sleep. She'd be too stubborn to leave this infernal infirmary anyway. Besides, she looks so lovely when she sleeps, like a wee angel." Elizabeth giggled into her hot chocolate, and John chuckled a bit himself. "Okay, well maybe not that last part."

They sat there in companionable silence for several minutes as Elizabeth finished the snack he had brought her. Finally, she stood to leave. I'd better go check on Rodney." Neither of them noticed the figure who had paused in the doorway nearby.

John gently grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

John glowered at her, as if to say, "You know exactly what I mean." Elizabeth slumped back down in her chair, and John leaned in close as he spoke. "You don't always have to be the strong one."

"What would you have me do, John?"

"Well, if you're asking my advice," he gave her a pointed glare, knowing full well she wasn't, "I'd say you need a vacation."

Elizabeth stared off into the distance, contemplating the idea. "Sometimes, I wish I could. It would be nice, you know? To not have everyone look to me, as if I should have all the answers. To not have people questioning me and my decisions. To not know that I'm responsible for the lives of each and every one of the people under my care…" She trailed off, staring at her hands. "Sometimes I get tired of having to be the strong one."

"Then why don't you stop?" John asked, no trace of challenge in his voice, just concern.

"Stop what, Major? You of all people should know that being a leader isn't something you can just turn off and on at will. These people need me to be strong for them. Just like Rodney needs me now. " She let her gaze linger for a while on Rodney's pale, gray face, the stillness of it unnerving her. She turned back to face John, just missing the figure's silent exit. "So," she continued, I'm going to do what I always do. I'm going to put on a brave face, go out there, and be the nucleus of this bizarre little family we've developed. And I'm going to keep on doing that until I can't do it any more." With one final look at John, she swallowed hard, and he nodded his understanding before leaving the infirmary at her side.

oOo