"So, d'you see her?" Sheppard walked around the corner, finding Rodney still backed against the wall, his eyes distant and deep in thought. John frowned and waved his hand in front of them. "Anyone home?"

"Of course someone's home!" Rodney snapped in his usual manner.

"Just checkin', cause it looked like the lights were out. You see her?"

"Yes, I saw her, and yes we talked."

"And?"

"And. . .she couldn't tell me much. At least nothing of interest to you."

"Big surprise there, huh?"

"Stuff it, Major." Rodney looked over his shoulder at the wall, paying special attention to the symbols, and started to study them silently.

John waited patiently for several moments, then inserted himself between Rodney and the writing with a smile on his face. "So, now what?"

"Major, would you please move?"

"What is this? I thought we were looking for a way outta here."

"This may very well be a way outta here."

"Uh, no. I don't think so." John walked to the middle of the hall. "Time to find the gate, find Ford and Teyla, and skedaddle. Besides, what's with this crystal thing? You said something about a crystal, then kind of dropped the subject."

"I've already told you, Lt. Ford and Teyla aren't here. And I dropped the whole crystal thing because I haven't yet decided what to do."

"I say Ford and Teyla are here, and okay, I see." John started to walk away when Rodney pounded his fist against the wall in frustration. "Hey, take it easy! You okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Uh-huh." John's eyes were tight in disbelief. "Listen, exactly what did she say to you?" Rodney didn't look at him, he just turned and walked rapidly down the hall, with John at his shoulder. "I said, what did she say to you? Hey!" He stopped the other man and spun him around. "Answer me!"

"It's really none of your business, Major!"

"It is my business! Anything to do with getting us off this station and back home is absolutely my business!"

"I thought you didn't believe she existed! Thought she was a figment of my imaginary 'I need to feel wanted and safe' issue! Your words, Major, not mine, now will you please leave me alone so I can save our asses as usual?" He stormed into the console room and sat at the schematics before him. His hand waved over the technology, and he cursed loudly. "I can believe this. Can't even operate the fuckin' equipment and she. . .god dammit. . . Major! I need you again!"

"I'm right here, Rodney," John said calmly over his shoulder. He passed his hand over the control which unlocked the system, and observed Rodney. The man was sweating, his expression intense.

"Good. Now I'm going to do a quick study, so don't interrupt."

"And I'm supposed to do. . .what exactly?"

Rodney let out a long-suffering sigh. "Why don't you look for a database of some sort, and see if you can find some information on the people that lived here?"

"I thought we already tried that," John said patiently.

"Then look up the word, 'Eschu'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well if I knew, I wouldn't tell you to look it up, now would I? It has something to do with the writing on the walls. Now leave me alone." His hands flew over the console, with the occasional help from John.

He sat back an hour later, near exhaustion. "I was right." And said nothing more.

John waited as patiently as he could. Which wasn't long. "About?"

"The chemical reaction within the walls is the source of the power. But I can't figure out how to synthesize it. I need to take a sample back to Atlantis, assuming we get back."

"Uh-huh. Now listen to this." John leaned forward. "First, swear to me that you really are seeing someone, that she's not in your head."

"Major, if I were crazy, don't you think I'd admit it?" He caught John's glare. "Fair point."

"There is a crystal."

"There is?" Rodney sat forward in his seat.

Sheppard nodded at the grid. "There." He pointed to a remote spot on the map before them. "That's where we need to go."

Rodney looked. "That's not the power source we saw earlier."

"No, we don't want that. We want to go here." He tapped the screen over the lines that represented the room next to it, and turned to pin Rodney with a serious expression. "Okay, say this crystal will bring the city to life, and it will rise to the surface. Just as you thought." John folded his arms. "Now, you're smart, but you're not that imaginative. Someone told you, didn't they?" He looked worried, just for a moment. "You really are seeing ghosts."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "She's not a ghost, Major, she represents the city. You touch the crystal, they wake up, the city goes up, bam. We're home." He clapped his hands together and rubbed them.

"And. . .before we wake them, I want to know exactly who we are waking."

"Didn't you hear me? I said we can go home. I could swear I just said that." John wasn't buying it. "Look, I told you, the people that built the city are the ones who built Atlantis. They are the same. They didn't escape to earth, probably because the stargate was located on Atlantis and you can't use two gates in the same location, because they cancel each other out. So for some reason, maybe these people were not able to get to Atlantis. Maybe they were preparing a defense for the two cities, or something, I don't know, point is. . .they were left here and placed in a deep, cryogenic sleep until the city woke them."

"Like Atlantis and Weir, I mean the first time she went."

"Only this time the city has produced the image of one who is sleeping. She isn't real, I mean she's real, but. . .I don't really get it because apparently she is an ascended being only she's come back to help the people here. . .anyway, this crystal is like the consciousness of the city. Activating it will release the original builders, get this baby powered up, and get us to the surface. We can use what ever power source they have within these walls to help power up Atlantis, and use their knowledge to help prevent further Wraith attacks."

"Because they've been so successful thus far."

"Forgo the sarcasm, you're not gifted enough." Rodney pointed to the bright blip on the screen. "It's quite a walk, and with any luck we'll pass the inhabitants on the way down, so we really can see who we're waking up." He gave John a serious look. "This is the only way."

"You're sure about this."

"Look, I've been thinking about this ever since I first saw her. There is no gate here. We're wasting our time looking for one. We need to activate this city, and get it to the surface. Then you can surf home for all I care."

"You don't surf."

"I don't need to. Now, are we going, or not?" Rodney was standing, angled impatiently towards the door.

"Lead on." John waved his palm toward the hall, and followed the scientist out.

>

Dr. Carson Beckett rubbed his eyes wearily and closed the lid to his laptop. He sat still for several moments, not fully convinced his legs were stable enough to carry him the short distance to his current sleeping quarters. Thoughts of his bed taunted him, and he knew he needed the rest he was prescribing to everyone else. But the thought of closing his eyes sent a pain of realization up his spine, a shock that said he should be doing something, not resting.

He knew Weir hadn't slept. He knew Teyla and Ford were resting only with the aid of medications. And he was painfully aware of Rodney's medical chart sitting on the corner of his desk, patiently waiting for the check marks that would indicate his physical was complete. His appointment had been scheduled, much to his chagrin, and now he was well overdue. Which probably wouldn't harm him in the least, but dying just to get out of a bloody physical was bloody inexcusable, and when he and Major Sheppard were found, and they would be, he'd damn well give Rodney an earful about that. Pending death was no excuse. Carson would be certain to retain him for as many test as he could think of, just for the sheer pleasure of hearing the man complain, just once more.

He sighed deeply, almost painfully, and grimaced as he slowly pushed himself from the desk. Nurse Conway looked at him and nodded, her expression not revealing much, but he was used to that from her. He straightened his back, arching slightly and groaning at the pops along his spine, and slowly walked to the door. Just an hour or so of rest, to readjust his system. No more.

Of course he hadn't counted on walking right into Elizabeth Weir in the corridor.

Scared the bejesus out of him. Her eyes were haunted, and in the dim light she looked like an illusion, like the edge of a dream upon waking. He would have questioned her presence if he hadn't walked right into her, heard her soft startled grunt as the collided, her quick apologies afterwards.

"What are you doing lass?" he asked, so taken aback by the encounter that he sounded like a father reprimanding a child. Her lost expression was indeed very young, and fresh, and needy.

"I'm sorry, Carson, I just. . .were you headed to your quarters? I should let you rest, I really do apologize. . ."

"No, Elizabeth, wait! What can I do for you?"

She looked down, and it occurred to Carson that her posture was unusual in itself. She was normally a straightforward woman, and made it a point to look people in the eyes, unblinking. It was the one thing that radiated the power and self control she possessed, and made the other person feel like she was not only listening to every word being said, but absorbing it into her very flesh.

He had joked before, when she cut her arm on the edge of a vicious piece of machinery, that he was startled to see she had blood; he was convinced she had nothing but compassion and other people's worries running through her veins. He couldn't think of a better person to run the station.

And now that person stood before him, before him, trembling.

"Would you like something to drink?" Carson tilted his head down, searching for her eyes. She did look up, and nodded, her lips pressed in a flat line. "Come on, then." Gently he took her elbow, and they walked down the corridor, passing windows that revealed a dark ocean. Considering the circumstance, it was the last thing either of them wanted to see.

Beckett's quarters were very clean, which was to be expected, and bare, which was also to be expected. Not many personal items were taken to Atlantis. There were a few pictures, one she presumed was his mom, the others were various family members maybe, or friends, colleagues. There was a picture of the ocean from high cliffs, obviously Scotland, and she stared at it. Odd to think, of all the pictures to bring to a city on the sea, he chose a picture of the waters. She thought to question him about it, and changed her mind as the aroma of mint tea filled the air. Carson walked over to her with two steaming mugs. "Mum used to make this when I felt bad. Mint is supposed to lift the spirits. Good for headaches as well."

"You miss your mom." Elizabeth took the seat beside the window, oddly enough.

"Aye, who doesn't? I just hope everything is okay, I can't stand not being able to call her."

Elizabeth nodded and sipped. Her dark hair hid her face, until she gave it a conscious shake and asked, "What did you do in Scotland, Carson? I mean, other than going to medical school. What did you enjoy?"

Carson blinked once, and concealed his surprise with pleasure that someone realized that there were times when a person simply needed to talk about home. "I played rugby a lot, actually. Never was very good at golf."

"In Scotland? You couldn't play golf?"

"Aye, I was a right ripper when it came to rugby. But golf, now I don't care who invented it or why, but I can't get a grasp of it. No patience to just walk a bloody green course searching for a tinny ball that has a mind of it's own. I say to it, 'go then, do what you want, cause I'm goin' to the rugby game anyhow.'" Elizabeth laughed. "What about you, then? What did you do with yourself?"

She thought for a moment, cupping her hands around the warm mug. Her legs were drawn underneath her, her thin frame making her look more and more like a child. Outside, the waves rolled inland. "I was a gymnast for a while," she said, "I liked the feeling of tumbling through the air. Purposefully, of course."

"I'd of thought you a dancer."

"Oh, I did that too. And horseback riding, and swimming. Even some figure-skating, when I was very, very young."

"A woman of many talents." Carson smiled. Her grin in response was small, and her head tilted back towards the window. His smile faded as the sadness crept back into the faint lines around her mouth. "Most people are asleep this hour, Elizabeth. What keeps you awake?"

She didn't turn to him. She seemed to be giving the answer more thought than it deserved, or was schooling her answer. "I'm tired, Carson. You'd think I could sleep."

"There is a difference in being tired, and being fatigued. Which are you?"

"I'm. . .tired. I'm tired of the worry, of the death, of not knowing what I'm doing here. I volunteered for this expedition. I'm the leader here. But, maybe I shouldn't be. I find myself questioning everything lately, and that includes the decisions I've made."

"Do ye question this because your other self nearly failed in her expedition?"

"She – I mean I. . .dammit, I don't even know how to refer to her! How do you talk about someone who is you, but isn't you?"

"'Liz' would be a start."

Elizabeth gave a small chuckle. "All right then. Liz. Liz went to Atlantis, just like me, with good intentions like me, and everyone was killed, all except for her. Why?"

Carson studied his cup. Elizabeth was looking intently at him, with that expression he so admired, but this time she wasn't soaking up the problems of others, but pouring hers out with the same amount of energy. Carson only hoped he could play the opposition well. "You seem to forget, if you hadn't gone back and triggered the failsafe, we wouldn't be here now. For whatever reason, you were meant to survive."

"But why did it go wrong the first time?"

"I don't know. Only time will tell, if it ever does. But what is important, is that we are here. Now."

"Not all of us." The sorrow in her voice was all too evident. And understandable.

Carson set down his mug and kneeled before her. He took her cup and clasped her hands between his own. "Listen to me, lass," he said, "this isn't your fault. Do you understand me? This was the work of something else that we cannot control, and has nothing to do with you. No one blames you. Please stop blaming yourself. You cannot go about trying to take responsibility for everyone on this station, trust me, I know. I try and get people to do like they should, but they just think I'm spouting off rubbish from the hypocritic oath." He grinned as Weir laughed at his word play.

"Good one."

"Thank you, I rather liked it. But take my point, Elizabeth. And don't give up hope. You never know what the likes of those boys are up to. They may have found a pleasant beach and are going for a swim."

Weir studied him. "You really believe that?"

Carson's face stilled. Of course he didn't believe it. But something in him wasn't ready to give up hope. "You never know, do you?" He squeezed her hand. "It is a lot to take in, being here. A lot to be afraid of. Let yourself be afraid, let yourself feel it. That is the only way you can learn to cope with it when it does happen. We're all afraid. The strongest, cope, and you are strong, my dear. Never, ever doubt that."

Elizabeth blinked at her cup. She sniffed and gave a firm nod. "Like I said earlier, we take you for granted."

"And like I said, you don't. But I'll keep a tally, just in case." He stood. "Now, do you want something to help you sleep?"

"No, thank you. I need to be able to wake up, should duty call."

"Aye, that would probably be a good idea." Carson smiled around his cup.