Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: Since it's one of my favourite eppies, the events in Thirty Eight Minutes feature quite a bit here. Reference also made to Rising, The Defiant One, The Brotherhood and The Siege, part two.

As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Sixteen

"Hell of a way to be spending your birthday…"

He sounded exhausted and dispirited, the familiar lightness in his voice noticeably absent. Not that Elizabeth could blame him as she settled into the other, vacant seat at their CMO's bedside. Just a week ago, John Sheppard had been gleefully planning 'one hell of a party', as only he could. No expense had been spared, or opportunity missed, to give their CMO a birthday he'd never forget.

With Kate Buchanan's astonishingly patient help, he'd become an expert on all things Scottish. He'd even persuaded Caldwell to sneak some extra goodies in their last batch of supplies – a request which, Elizabeth knew, the commander of the Daedalus had already agreed to anyway.

Then the Wraith had attacked. Carson Beckett had, yet again, been reluctantly shang-hai'd into active service. And those crates of Scottish goodies, just like cheerily bright blue eyes, had stayed closed ever since.

The familiar protest, too, had been sadly missed. As Carson Beckett was always so peevishly reminding him, he 'wasn't in the bloody military'.

For all the protests, though, Carson Beckett was still part of the team. A vital, pivotal part of his team. And for all his bantering irreverence, John Sheppard took the welfare of that team seriously. Very seriously. Seriously enough for himto risk Kate Buchanan's wrath by defying her exasperated order to 'get some sleep, Colonel, before you bloody collapse'.

Elizabeth didn't hold out much hope of succeeding in her place – but duty bound concern still compelled her to try.

"You should get some rest, John…" she said at last, gently squeezing a wearily slumped shoulder. "And I mean proper rest, not just some chair-bound cat-nap… you look exhausted…"

That won her a welcome flash of a trademark grin as her second in command nodded towards the silent figure beside them.

"Careful, Elizabeth, or you'll be clucking over me as much as Carson…"

"Oh, please… I don't think that's humanly possible…" Elizabeth shot back, admirably straight faced – noting, in silent satisfaction, that John had also allowed himself a much needed chuckle of laughter.

The levity hadn't reached his eyes, though, or settled the fingers that still toyed absently at his throat – a metallic glint within them giving her the best clue yet as to why he'd refused to leave Carson's side.

"You're not going to lose him, John…" she said at last, choosing her next words with typical care. "You heard what Teyla said earlier, he will be alright… and I know you must be…"

"Thinking about Ford…" he cut in softly, meeting her eyes without the anger she'd silently dreaded. Instead the strain within them eased a little, in gratitude for both her compassion and her concern. "Yeah, it's been kinda hard not to, what with Christmas and New Year, and all…"

"Yes, I know…" Elizabeth agreed, her eyes betraying the same sadness even as she smiled back at him. Their first Christmas away from home had been painful enough, made more so by so many absences.

Aiden. Peter. Not forgetting Markham. Gaul. Abrams. And, of course, Marshall Sumner. All so sadly lost, to a brutal and ruthless enemy. All so sadly missed by those they'd left behind.

There was more to it than that, she knew. But Elizabeth resisted the urge to pursue the point further. To do so would only make her attempts to persuade him to open up all the more difficult. So instead she remained silent, using the time to gently stroke Carson's hair back from his forehead – flickers of contented awareness across his face eventually bringing an affectionate smile back to her own.

"Looks like he's dreaming again… and at least he seems more settled now…" she said at last, turning back to glean whatever clues she could from another face that was just as open, just as expressive.

"Yeah, he's been quiet for most of the morning… just mentions his… uh... dad… once in a while…"

The change in his eyes had been so brief, so fleeting, that if she'd blinked she would have missed it. It was a positive change, though, as they settled once more on the silent figure beside them.

"I've been through the same thing, Elizabeth… that's why I can't leave him…" he said at last – pausing for a few moments, re-gaining his composure, before confronting his own private demons. "Well, it – it wasn't quite the same, I guess, but – but you remember that time back on the Jumper…? Those other thirty minutes, before he… before Carson brought me back…?"

As she stared back at him, John met Elizabeth's wide, stunned eyes with grim sympathy in his own.

"I know what he's going through, Liz…" he added softly, turning tired and worried eyes back towards the bed. "I know what he's going through... and I know how hard it's gonna be for him to come back…"