AN: This started as one drabble and turned into many, creating a kind of drabble short story. Hope you like. Feedback always (begged for) welcome.

The Burden of Sacrifice

o

Her days mingle together. Her nights, unimaginably boring. Her stomach, always in knots. Her dreams, when not nightmares, uninspired. She can barely remember coming into the office this morning. Just a vague image of…walking.

He slaps the reports onto her desk, jarring her to awareness. "There, happy now?"

"Rodney?" She looks up quizzically. His face is red, eyes puffy with lack of sleep. "What has gotten into you?"

"You want them, you got them. Now, stay out of my room, Elizabeth!" And out he storms, leaving her feeling…off-balance. She looks at the reports…they're three days early.

o

o-o

Teyla sees her before Ronon as they leave the gym after sparring. It is late and Teyla has never seen her so…disheveled before. Her curls stand out in all directions. She is wearing a pair of very short pants and a white T-shirt, as the Colonel calls it, not her usual attire.

"Dr. Weir, are you all right?" She does not look at them, instead she continues down the corridor, cheeks pale, eyes blazing.

"Dr. Weir?" Ronon sounds as concerned as Teyla feels.

She does not stop, only passes by them, grumbling. "Forks…no socks…take it for granted."

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Elizabeth checks her reflection, tilting her head right then left. She presses her hand against the side of her head. The curls refuse to flatten. When had her hair stopped cooperating. When had that become one of her worries?

Sheppard! His comment at the end of this morning's briefing. "You look tired, Elizabeth. But you must be sleeping 'cause you've got sexy bed-head hair."

Sexy! First he said it and then he winked and grinned showing off those dangerous dimples.

If he only knew what she dreamed of when she slept… oh, no, Beth, now that would be dangerous.

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John stirs at the pounding. Pulling him from deep sleep. He stumbles to the door, keying it open. She's standing before him, wild eyes, wild hair and wearing…a nightgown. Suddenly she's inside, arms around him, lips on his, kissing him hungrily. "I want you," she groans attacking his neck with her mouth, fingers in his unruly hair.

She's warm, tantalizing…and forbidden! John's thrown, feeling his body responding to this sudden very unexpected assault. She's never hinted. "Uh, Elizabeth? Don't you think we should talk about this?"

She whispers, "Eggs…laundry soap…dust bunnies…" and collapses against him. Snoring.

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"Carson?" John steps into the infirmary. It's late at night and McKay radioed him out of a deep sleep, panicking and begging for help.

"What can I do ya for Colonel?"

John scratches his head. "Something's wrong with Elizabeth."

"Is it an emergency?"

John wrinkles his brow and bites his lip. "Come with me." He leads the Scot into the corridor where they find Elizabeth dressed for bed, carrying a pillow. She shoves the pillow at Rodney, not for the first time. "You said you'd take this with you."

Carson sighs, "Oh no, not again!"

John raises his brows. "Huh?"

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"Well, that explains a lot," McKay throws up his hands. "Last week, she came into my room yelling about reports...in the middle of the night."

John glances at him. "The nightgown didn't tip you off?"

"Nightgown, what nightgown…she had on a T-shirt. Why…what did she do to you?"

John bites his lip then raises a finger and turns to Carson. "How come we didn't know about this?"

"It's privileged, son," Carson adds.

"We have to do something," McKay says. "She could hurt herself."

John remembers her forcefulness the other night and clears his throat. "Or someone else."

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"You can't wake her, Rodney."

"Well, why not?"

"Do you want to give her a heart attack?" Carson asks and McKay's eyes widen. "I didn't think so. I suggest we lock her room at night. Keep her contained."

"Sounds like a plan," John says. "I'll do it. And I'll be sure to get up early enough to unlock it in the morning so she's none the wiser."

"Why don't we just tell her?" McKay asks.

"Are you kidding?" John says. "The embarrassment alone would give her a heart attack."

"He's right," Carson says. "We have to keep this to ourselves."

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John's almost to her door when it opens and Elizabeth appears, well rested and ready for the day. "Good morning, Colonel."

John stares at her, blinks. "Uh…good morning, Dr. Weir."

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" she smiles, heading down the corridor.

"Uh huh," John mutters, quickly catching up with her. "Uh, sleep well?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose?"

Her brows cinch. "I've been having strange dreams lately. And when I wake up, it's like I've just run a marathon."

John raises a brow. "Really?"

Teyla turns the corner, giving Dr. Weir a strange look then says, "Colonel…we need to talk."

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"I do not understand," Teyla says.

"If she knew, she'd be mortified," John sighs.

"Why does this happen?"

"Stress. At least it's not an ulcer."

"What is an…ulcer?"

John shakes his head. "Never mind. The point is, she unlocked her door." John chews on his lip. "How's Ronon, by the way?"

"Disturbed. She did grab him rather…firmly. If I was not there, he might have hurt her in return."

John taps her shoulder. "Thank God you were there. Cause if he'd hurt her, I'd have to kill him." He shrugs. "It's a guy thing."

Teyla nods. "I understand."

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"It's time, Carson."

"I still say it's a bad idea, Colonel."

John shakes his head. "We have to do something. The locked door routine didn't work out so well."

"How did she manage it?" McKay asks.

Carson shrugs. "What can I say…she's a multi-tasker."

"Funny," John says.

"Alright, Colonel. We'll do it your way."

John nods. "It'll be fine. It's Weir."

McKay shoots Carson a look. "Do I really have to be there? I mean, like the man said…it's Weir."

"You're not scared, are you, Rodney?" Carson raises his brows.

McKay makes a face, saying, "Uh…yes."

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Elizabeth looks up from a report. Rodney, John, Carson, Teyla and even Ronan enter watching her as if her head might spin around. "Did I forget a meeting?"

"No, luv," Carson says. "This is an intervention."

Elizabeth's confused. "An inter…whatever for?"

John says, "You've been under a lot of stress…it's taking its toll."

"How's that exactly?"

"Here's the deal, Elizabeth," Rodney sighs. "You've been sleepwalking and we're here to make you stop."

She glanced at Carson. "But it's been years."

"I'm afraid it's back."

John smiles. "So, consider each of us your newly appointed night watchmen…and woman."

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Teyla knocks on Dr. Weir's door. "Come in." Dr. Weir is dressed in the familiar nighttime attire, though her pink T-shirt has some kind of creature with big eyes on it. "Hi, Teyla."

"Good evening, Dr. Weir. Have you taken the medication Dr. Beckett gave you?"

She nods.

"You should be in bed. I will stand post outside."

"Teyla…wait. I…want to apologize."

Teyla smiles. "I understand it is not in your control. No apology is necessary." She stops for a moment. "Though, you may want to give one to Ronon."

Her eyes widen. "Oh, God. What'd I do?"

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The door opens and Dr. Weir takes a step outside. Teyla is in front of her instantly, blocking the exit. She is disturbed by the fear and anger mixed in Dr. Weir's eyes.

As Dr. Beckett warned, Teyla will do her best not to wake the sleeping woman, but to guide her back to bed. "Turn around," Teyla orders softly. Dr. Weir cocks her head but does comply. "Lie down on the bed and close your eyes."

"Okay," Dr. Weir says. Within moments, she's lying on her side. "Good night, Teyla."

Teyla smiles. "Good night." And returns to her post.

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Elizabeth closes her eyes and sighs, sinking into her bed. "You'd tell me, right?"

"Of course," John says.

She doesn't believe him. "What did I do?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. You just came into my room…then fell asleep."

Elizabeth's eyes lock onto his. "Where…did I fall asleep?"

John bites his bottom lip. "Um…in my arms."

She narrows her gaze. "What?"

"It's nothing, Elizabeth. You were standing…we both were."

"Standing. So…what…I walked in and collapsed?"

"Not exactly…but close enough."

"John."

"Get some sleep, Elizabeth. You didn't embarrass yourself…or me."

"Promise."

"I promise."

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Elizabeth sits upright in the dark. John puts his flashlight and book aside, waiting. She gets up and sits at the desk, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen.

Intrigued, John peeks over her shoulder to see what she's doing. The clear handwriting surprises him, but not more than the words she writes. Simon is a Wraith; he sucked out my soul. I wish John would save me.

John smiles as he whispers in her ear. "I will. Go back to bed, Elizabeth."

With a soft sigh, she returns to the bed and sleeps. John kisses her forehead.

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"Dr. Weir," Ronon nods as she enters her quarters for the night.

"Ronon," she smiles thinly. She keys open her door, but pauses, turning back to him, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, about…what happened."

Ronon feels his face redden. He closes his eyes and exhales heavily. "Not your fault."

"Still…I'm sorry." She turns to go inside.

As a last thought, he adds: "If it makes you feel better, you're the first woman to bring me to my knees in a long time."

Dr. Weir palms her face as she closes the door. "No, it really doesn't."

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He heard her crying in her sleep and moving around inside, so he expected to see her soon. He's never liked hearing women cry, it stabs at his heart. His mother rarely cried. Dr. Weir reminds him of her: stern, determined, surprisingly strong for someone so small.

He stands in front of her, and she bumps into him. She steps right, he follows. She steps left and he blocks her again. With a huff and hands on her hips, she mumbles something about a tree, turns and goes back to bed.

Ronon keys the door closed, holding back a laugh.

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All she can see is the blood.

John's blood.

It's her nightmares born into reality. Her eyes widen and her breath catches. She can't take this. She can feel her world collapsing around her. Dark spots creep in around her vision as she stares at the red.

John's blood.

She's still not sleeping. The walking only takes place in her small room, thanks to the watchful eyes of her colleagues. But the nightmares remain. Getting worse in fact.

He's not scared. He's never scared. Why is she?

All she can see is the blood.

John bloody, dying. Leaving her alone!

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"How could you be so stupid," she yells. Everyone in the gate room, control room, probably city can hear her. She can feel the hysteria building. The fear taking over. Her heart pounding against her ribs.

And here he is, smiling crookedly, though not laughing, she'd have to smack him if he laughed. But his hazel eyes shimmer. "Eliz-"

She holds up a shaking hand. "No, John. You're not invincible. You could get an infection! You could die!"

"It's just a paper cut."

She's irrational and she knows it. Her hand stops the scream.

John hugs her as she sobs.

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After her public meltdown, John ushered her into the infirmary where Carson immediately diagnosed: "Sleep deprivation."

She's been removed from duty.

McKay seems put-out, Carson has pity in his eyes, Teyla gives her a comforting hug.

Col. Caldwell will be grinning like a fool when he returns from Earth if she's not back in command.

And then there's John.

Her knight, her shield…the pain in her butt. "Now you have no choice. You have to relax," he says with that cocky grin she—

Oh God! She adores that grin. Those eyes. That mussed hair.

She's afraid it's showing.

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"Carson," she smiles thinly when he comes inside her room. The pity still registers in his eyes and she can't stand it.

"Dr. Weir," he nods, his dimples flashing. He sets a cup on her desk. "I hope that's not work you're doing on that data pad." She turns the flat screen around, showing him a video game and his smile grows. "Good lass." He holds out two tablets. "Time for sleep."

"I don't need those."

"Yes. You do." He waits patiently until she holds out her hand, taking the tranquilizers. "Now off to bed with ya. I'll be here."

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Carson watches as she tosses under the covers, mumbling. The tranquilizers were mild enough to aid in sleep, though they could not suppress dreams. Carson sighs, brows wrinkling in worry. She is the strongest person he has ever met; the stress she is under must be terribly great for this to happen.

Her last bout of somnambulism occurred after she and other delegates had been taken hostage during a crisis in the Middle East. She'd nearly lost her life. She did lose a friend.

"John!" She mumbles more.

Carson hears something he probably shouldn't have. "That is a problem, lass."

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Elizabeth jumps two of John's checkers. "Never was a great strategist," he says, deploying the dimples.

She refuses to look. He's so adorable in his civilian clothes: rumbled blue shirt and blue jeans. He looks great in jeans. She sighs inwardly… don't!

"So…you gonna tell me?"

"Nope," she says.

"Might make you feel better."

"Or worse."

"C'mon. Nobody will tell me what you did to Ronon." He pouts, touching her hand. "I deserve to know."

Elizabeth sees the gleam in his eyes. There're so many things she wants to tell him…but can't. This is not one of them.

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She thrashes the covers off her legs, jerks out of bed with a suppressed scream; hitting the floor with her hands, her feet tangled in the sheets. She crawls until her feet drop then pushes at the binding sheets, whimpering.

John kneels, carefully getting her free. She's crawling, sobbing…hits a wall, turns her back against it, holding her arms out in front, turning her face aside. "No," it comes out as a gasp.

John's by her side, his mouth to her ear. "Shh…you're safe with me, Liz."

She trembles as his arms wrap around her. "Don't leave!"

"Never."

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"You really want to make that move, Elizabeth?"

"Scared, Rodney?"

"N…no. Of course not." He scans the board then moves his queen to intercept her bishop. "Just didn't think you'd make that kind of sacrifice."

"Generally, I wouldn't. But…" Elizabeth takes his queen with the knight guarding her king. "Sacrifice can be important to the whole." There's sadness in her eyes that makes Rodney's heart hurt.

"It can also be your undoing." Rodney moves his knight. "Checkmate." She grins, always the good sport. "Have you considered…indulgence might be important as well?"

Her brows crease. "What do you mean?"

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He hears her moving around and goes inside. She's making her bed. "Sedge, off." She shakes the blanket. "Dusty brains." Her brow wrinkles and she drops, looking under the bed. "Simon? Socks!"

"Go back to sleep, Elizabeth," Rodney says quietly.

Still looking under the bed. "I'm not hiding." Sitting on her knees, she drops her hands into her lap. "It's only eye sex."

"Elizabeth."

She sits on the bed. "They'd use me against him." Tilting her head, seemingly looking at Rodney. "I'm not the flavor of the month." Tears drip. "Chocolate's illegal." She sobs. "John…can't love me."

Rodney's speechless.

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"You know how I feel about her."

"Of course, Rodney," John says. "We all care about Elizabeth."

McKay grabs his arm. "No. You know how I feel about her."

John nods, understanding. Clearly he has more than friendship in mind. Then again…so does John.

"So, you know this is killing me."

John's eyes narrow. "What?"

Rodney exhales hard. "Tell her how you feel."

"You know I can't."

"You have to. It's the biggest problem. You're behind her stress."

"Me?"

"Don't look so shocked, Colonel."

"But-"

"Just tell her. I want to see her smile again." McKay stalks off.

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"What can I do ya for, Colonel?"

John runs a hand through his hair. "McKay said something-"

"Gave you a headache did he?" Carson grins.

John smiles then shakes his head. "About Elizabeth." Carson's eyes widen. "He thinks I might be able to…say or do something…that would-"

Carson sighs. "I don't want to break patient privilege, so I'll simply say… follow your heart, lad. What is it telling you?"

John raises his brows. "That I can get in trouble."

Carson smiles. "Aye." He tilts his head. "Is that what you're really worried about though?"

John's brows wrinkle. "No."

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"I have a prescription for Dr. Weir, Colonel. Will you deliver it tonight?"

"Sure."

Carson writes it out and hands it to John. His eyes widen in shock. "Carson? You can't be serious."

"It's a valid prescription, son. And, I might add, a vital one in this case."

"So you agree with McKay."

"Aye. Don't you?"

John rubs a hand over his face. "What if-"

"No one needs to know, John. We can keep any number of secrets…even on Atlantis."

"No…I mean. Elizabeth. She might not like the idea."

Carson smiles again. "I'm her doctor, lad. Trust me."

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Elizabeth's door opens. She's ready for bed in a T-shirt and short boxers, looking as gorgeous as ever. John averts his gaze from her long legs. She grins, though the smile does not touch her eyes. "Thought you might not show."

John bites his lip. He steps inside, closes the door, locking it. "Had to talk with Carson."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine." He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks on his feet.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

Her eyes narrow. "What's wrong?"

"No…nothing," he grins sheepishly. "Carson wanted me to give you a prescription."

She sighs. "Pills?"

"Not…exactly."

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What's he supposed to do? Blurt it out. Scare the crap out of her. Carson can't be right about this. No way she wants to hear him say it, no matter how true it is.

He's wanted to tell her for so long…but he can't. It'll ruin their friendship. Destroy all the trust they've built. She'll never look at him the same way.

She'll pity him. See him as some poor sap who can't deal with reality.

And that's the problem. He doesn't want this reality…he wants the fantasy. The 'Happily Ever After'.

"John? What is it?"

"Hmm?"

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His gaze shoots to her. She takes a step back. Just slightly, but noticeable then tilts her head, worry creasing her brows. "What's wrong?"

John licks his lips as he steps toward her. He can't tell her, not like this. "Nothing," he sighs, giving her his sincerest smile.

She relaxes, grinning. "You looked so…intense."

"Sorry."

"So, what's Carson's miracle drug tonight?"

He can smell strawberries…she washed her hair. A little curl tickles her cheek and he gently tucks it behind her ear. Her eyes lock onto his. There's so much emotion.

It's now or never.

John chooses action over words.

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His eyes betray him, sending butterflies through her belly.

John's hand slips behind her neck, his touch sending tingles to her toes. Then he's pulling her in. His beautiful lips are like feathers against hers, tickling in the most sensual way. Her heart's pounding, her breath catches.

And then he's kissing her. He gently captures her bottom lip then slowly moves onto her top. His hand sinks into her hair and she feels soft pressure against her lower back as he pulls her against his hard body.

This has to be a dream.

Ohh. She never wants to wake up.

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Her arms slide around his neck; fingers in his hair, making him gasp even as his lips continue moving over hers. She feels so right in his arms, her body melding with his, the missing piece of a puzzle.

She's kissing me back.

John's heart races. Blood pounds in his ears.

He's waiting for the words. She's going to say them…breaking his heart into a thousand pieces. We can't do this. It's wrong.

He guides her onto the bed. He doesn't want to break the spell…but he has to tell her. "I love you, Elizabeth Weir."

She gasps.

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The tears come as soon as he says it. Not sobs, not crying. Simple, quiet, refreshing tears rolling down her cheeks. There's a lump in her throat cutting off her voice. She can barely breathe. He wipes the tears aside with his thumb, kisses the tip of her nose…her forehead.

He's cupping her cheek, his thumb moves over her lips. Then he's kissing her again. Her body sings at every touch. Her heart is ready to burst from her chest, but she doesn't care. He's here. He loves her. All she ever needs.

No fear. No hiding.

Just John.

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They lie facing each other for hours it seems. Eyes on eyes. Fingers caressing faces. Every touch sending pleasure through his body. But he isn't pressing forward. He knows she's exhausted, that she wouldn't resist. But he's content to stay as they are, sharing the small space on the bed…seeing each other, as if for the first time.

Her eyes fight to stay open, but her body refuses. Before she falls into the depths… "I love you John Sheppard."

He smiles, kissing her tenderly, lingering then presses his forehead to hers. "Go to sleep, Elizabeth."

Finally, she succumbs, smiling.

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