A/N: I forgot the disclaimer in my original story. Sorry guys, I'm kind of new at this.
Disclaimer: I'm sure this will come as a complete shock, but I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters associated with it.
She rarely smiles anymore, not the way she used to when we first arrived here in the Pegasus Galaxy. I remember how her face used to light up at the sight of every new discovery, eyes filled with an innocent wonder, and a big, beautiful, excited smile gracing her lips. She almost never gets that look anymore.
She had other smiles too, one for almost every occasion; and I miss their daily presence in my life. I miss the bemused half-smile she would give Rodney whenever he became a little too exuberant in his scientific explanations. I miss the way her eyes used to sparkle with barely suppressed laughter when we engaged in teasing banter, and the way the corners of her mouth would quirk and her eyebrow would rise after hearing one of my witty comments. I miss the indulgent grin when I managed to coax her away from her desk to get something to eat. I miss that ear-to-ear, child at Christmastime smile; but most of all I miss "my" smile, the one I always imagined she reserved for me. That smile, warm and bright, was the first thing I saw when I returned from my near suicide run during the siege, right before she hugged me. I saw it again during our return trip to Atlantis from Earth on the Daedalus, and many times after that. "My" smile was the last to vanish, but now it too has gone the way of its lesser counterparts.
Her smiles now are ghosts of those that appeared in happier times and they almost never reach her eyes. Her face is drawn and weary, her eyes haunted and sad. The burden of leadership weighs heavily on her too-thin shoulders. The sorrow and guilt she feels have robbed her of the carefree joy she used to have before the Wraith were awakened, before she had to make terrible choices no one should ever be faced with making, before she was forced to weigh the worth of one man's life against that of the city and its inhabitants. When I see her bowed head and slumped shoulders it breaks my heart; and no matter what she says, I know her current state is partially my fault. I'm the reason the Wraith are here en mass in the first place; and I should have been there for her more, should have helped her shoulder the weight of responsibility. Now look at her. This once vibrant and spirited woman is hurting so much it shows through her diplomatic mask.
I would do anything to see her smile again the way she used to, but I'm not sure how to help her. Every officer who is expected to go into the field learns how to administer basic first aid in case of emergencies, but we aren't trained on how to handle the emotional wounds. Believe me when I say that many times those are worse. There's no bandage I can apply, no healing balm that would ease her pain. Carson told me the other day that I should try and talk to her, that I might be able to help her because I can identify with what she's going through and that because we're so close she might open up to me. I told him that what I've been through can't really compare with what she's going through right now, that I can't even fathom the nightmares she must have, the treacherous "what-ifs" that are probably constantly running through her tortured mind. What I didn't tell him was that I'm not sure she would let me in to try. I think she believes I would see her as a weaker individual if she told me about the inner demons that trouble her, that I wouldn't trust her anymore or would view her as being unfit for her position. This too is my fault. Ever since that fateful day when I went against her orders, when she asked me if I trusted her and I shot back a less than convincing reply, I imagine she's felt the need to prove herself to me. The irony is that while I have come to trust her, she no longer really trusts herself. I think the incident with Kavanaugh was the first serious blow. I heard what that creep said to her, and though she might not have given any credence to his words at first, the following events probably cemented them in her mind. I tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, that she made a choice in the best interests of Atlantis, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't let herself off the hook that easily. Ever since then, situation after situation has arisen, each of them challenging everything she believes in. While I wish I could shield her from all the horrors the universe has to throw at us, I know I can't; but from now on I'll make sure to be right by her side while she faces them whenever I possibly can. Maybe by doing so I can help her heal; and maybe, just maybe, someday I'll see her really smile again.