Stargate Atlantis: Even in the Distance
By Reyclou
Chapter Eleven: Lay Down My Defenses
A subtle fury burned in John's eyes. He worked to cage what boiled beneath his stoic exterior—a cold rage. Elizabeth quickly moved to block him, placing herself between the colonel and the glass door. Anyone chancing to look toward her office from the Control Room would see only her back and some indiscernible figure—certainly not a specter of their late military commander. As much as she wanted to scream from the heights of Atlantis that John still lived, albeit confined to the sanctuary of the old medical sector, Elizabeth had made a promise that she did not intend to break. John needed time and cooperation, Rodney needed peace and undistracted concentration. Their 'invisibility' could give them that. She would wait until the scientist fixed the city and, by association, the pilot, before she gave them both a piece of her mind. Elizabeth promised herself she would be angry when John slipped out of that pod—roaring angry, in fact—though the anticipation of the heated frustration faded as she faced the colonel's expectant eye.
"When the hell were you going to tell me?" John hissed, glaring down at her.
Bristling, Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "Tell you about what?"
John took a step forward, narrowing his gaze. Elizabeth fought the urge to step back, to give him ground, but reminded herself that this John did not exist—at least not in the physical sense, anyway. "That I'm only here because you stonewalled Landry and the other brass into giving me the position," he replied. "Is that why Caldwell's been breathing down my neck for the last year?"
The fading anger surged back to the forefront of Elizabeth's thoughts. Only the men assembled within that SGC briefing room that day knew the details of the incident and she had expected it to remain that way—she certainly hadn't told anyone—but she should have anticipated the newswouldfind its way to the colonel's pointed ears. Elizabeth crossed her arms in stern defiance. "You're here because you're a valuable asset to this expedition and this command, Colonel. Contrary to popular belief, I kind of like having you around," she tapped her arms with impatient fingers. "Besides that, I didn't feel like breaking in another commanding officer. You were hard enough to train."
A sardonic smile spread across the colonel's features. "Contrary to popular belief, I like being around, but this is my career you're toying with."
"Your career, John?" she blurted. "You're laying in medical stasis and you want to talk about your career? What about your life?"
"My career is my life, Elizabeth," he replied.
Elizabeth shook her head slowly, green eyes stabbing daggers into his own, a wave of disgust ripped through her gut. "How dare you… Rodney's down there fighting for your life and all you care about is rank? If that's really what you think, I hope he pulls you out of this so I can boot you back to McMurdo myself!"
John flustered slightly at her threat. A cloud passed over his face, taking the gust of anger with it. Calmed, but no less frustrated, the colonel sagged—his defeated eyes searching the floor for answers. "I didn't mean it like that," he confessed softly. "My career was over before we even met. You went out on a limb requesting my transfer here in the first place," he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd picked up over the years. Again, Elizabeth could not help but wonder how one image could so mimic flesh and blood. "I wouldn't have a career to screw up—again—without you. I guess, in a way, I owe you."
A peace took her at the colonel's words, the anger of their past argument all but forgotten. He has to be frightened out of his mind, she told herself. Faced with his own death—again! Elizabeth promised herself she would be angry later—much, much later—but for now she would wallow in sympathy. "Then what are you here about? Shouldn't you be helping McKay?"
"Omnipresent, remember?" the airman smirked, though his demeanor lightened only ever so slightly. He always tried to make light of the lunacy. It wasn't until that moment that Elizabeth realized he had always been her guiding light amidst the madness. "Besides," he sighed. "McKay's almost done. It won't be long now."
Elizabeth nodded tightly. "Then I should get down there."
John bit his bottom lip. "Yeah," he said in a way that hinted he wasn't quite done with her yet. "Look, there's another reason I wanted to pop by, something I didn't get the chance to say last night. I guess I've always known it, but I didn't realize it until I talked to McKay just now," John fell silent, looking like he wanted to continue but feared her reaction.
"I'm listening," she stated in her best out-with-it tone.
"I lied about why I didn't want anyone to know about all this—about the whole coming back from the dead thing—specifically why I didn't want you to find out about all this," John began to stumble over his words, straining with the effort. "I guess I didn't so much lie as much as I didn't tell you the entire truth. I mean it when I said I didn't want anyone blaming themselves over this—you least of all," John's eyes looked up to meet hers. Something soft shone in his gaze. "I know you want to blame yourself for sending us out there. It was my operation, no one else's, though you might want to ask Lorne to consider utilizing Jumpers on any and all first-contact missions…"
"No," Elizabeth cut him off curtly. "You can tell him yourself, John, when Rodney gets you out of this."
He shot her a darting glare. "Elizabeth, this may be our very last argument. The least you could do is let me win."
"Don't start talking like that!" warned the woman, worry mixing with command. What the hell is he thinking? McKay would get him out of this or… or he just had to. "You're not dead yet!"
"See! This is exactly my point!" the colonel slipped back into a forceful tone. "You're going to deny it every step of the way, right until the end, but you're only setting yourself up for disappointment."
"Of course I'm going to fight it!" Elizabeth retorted just as heatedly. She dropped her voice so as not to attract the attention of the crew outside, but she lost no strength in her speech. She leaned in close to drive home her point. "As long as there is a snowball's chance in Hell you can make it out of that capsule alive, we are going to do everything we can to make sure that happens!"
"Even if it means I'm bedridden?" he replied sharply, ice chilling his tone. "Or deformed? Or paralyzed for the rest of my life?"
Elizabeth took a step back. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "No, John. We are not having that conversation—not again, never again!"
John studied her for a quiet, intense moment. "Then I guess we're done talking."
"I guess so," Elizabeth conceded with a subtle sigh. She was not conceding defeat, but she saw no point in arguing. What good did it do? Everything depended on Rodney and the Atlantis program now. She could do nothing to sway the colonel's chances. John did not reply, but turned away from her gaze. She stared at the faux fabric of his back, tracing the path of his spine with her eyes when a soft chirp in her ear broke the still silence.
"Elizabeth," Rodney's voice called out. "It's done."
That was it. That was Rodney's signal to Elizabeth that he had completed the secret task assigned to him by the city of the Ancients. Rodney McKay now stood ready to activate the Lantean A.I. that had slept within the city for so very long. Only time would tell if Atlantis could now save the colonel's life.
"All right, Rodney. Thank you. I'll be down there shortly," she replied, trying not to sound as if a life depended on Rodney's work. Hesitantly, she moved for the door, but John turned to stop her. He held out a hand, forgetting for the moment he could not touch her. It passed through her shoulder like sunlight through a screen door. Again, frustrated, he pulled back his arm, tucking his hand into his pocket.
"There's one last thing I have to say before Rodney throws the switch and it's something I've been meaning to say for a while, so don't interrupt, okay?" John paused again, but Elizabeth only stared at him in response. The colonel smiled nervously, idly rubbing at his chest as if he felt an itch he could not quite scratch. "I just wanted you to know," he began, but seemed to lose command of his voice for a moment. The recessed lighting in Elizabeth's office flickered. Concerned, Elizabeth looked around. Something had happened out in the Control Room too, but no one raised a panic. She hoped it had just been a hiccup in the system.
John, too, paused to take in the moment, but when things remained calm for a good minute, he continued. He was sweating now. The itch at his chest intensified and John held the heel of his hand to his heart. He clenched his eyes shut, forcing his words out through sheer determination. "To know that, whether I make it through this or not…"
Lights both inside the office and the Control Room flickered wildly, circuits dancing between blackout and overload. A violent shudder shook the city and Elizabeth had to struggle to keep her footing. John's image warbled before her and the man fell to his knees.
"John!" Elizabeth shot forward to help, but her hands met only air. Worriedly, she stared down at the image of Colonel Sheppard—crumpled, panting and hugging his chest—yet trying with all his strength to speak.
"Damn it, not now," he begged so softly, Elizabeth could barely make out his words. He spoke not to her, but to someone else. "Five more minutes with her and I swear I'll go willingly." Another deep shudder shook the city.
"John?" Elizabeth called again helpless as John's form fizzled, warped and withered before her.
Through a strained and fading voice, John gasped her name. "'Lizabeth…"
The far door to Elizabeth's office, the door that led back to a transport, swished open and in stepped Dr. Carson Beckett, who quickly spotted Elizabeth alone on the ground. She stared in shock at the empty floor. "Elizabeth," he blurted. "What's going on? What are ye doin' down there?" he asked, fear and concern deepening his warm brogue.
Elizabeth looked up from where she crouched amid the tumult, begging tears not to flood her eyes. She knew by the heat on her cheeks she couldn't hide behind an emotionless mask this time. She put a hand to the floor where John had lain. Nothing lay there now except for the same Lantean floor that had rested there for eons—John Sheppard lost to the unknown of the Atlantis circuitry. Willing back the panic that threatened to crack her resolve, Elizabeth rose and quickly turned for the transport. "I need a med team standing by and ready to deploy within ten minutes," she ordered promptly before she dove through the door, leaving Carson the very picture of confusion.
"Elizabeth!"
oOo
Rodney, far too intent on the spastic readings he now received from the Lantean terminal, barely looked up as Elizabeth half stumbled into the Ancient control room that had been the scientist's home for several days. The terminals blared and fizzled wildly as systems all over the city suddenly blinked on and off. The whole city, it seemed, had suddenly experienced one massive surge of conflicting commands—like two people wrestling for control of the same steering wheel.
"What the hell is going on?" Elizabeth demanded. Rodney did not need to ask why she seemed so upset. A blind man could see could see it a mile away: she ached for the Colonel—always had and probably always would. The lucky bastard, McKay sniffed, but meant no menace.
"I don't know!" replied the scientist, frantically dialing aging controls. "Everything was fine up until a few moments ago. It's like the city just went nuts or something—none of these readings are making any sense."
"Does it have anything to do with your repairs to the Atlantis program?" she asked in a way that begged him to snap his fingers and make it all go away. "Maybe you short-circuited something somewhere?"
The city shuddered, nearly knocking the two from their feet. Rodney grasped the control panel to steady himself while Elizabeth shifted her weight to keep her balance. Something shook the city to its core, and she dared not admit what she feared it was.
"No, no, no. It can't be." Rodney defended. "I haven't initialized anything yet. By all rights this should be happening," Rodney's eyes widened as a dark thought struck him. He looked up toward the smaller chamber that held the stasis chamber. "Unless…" he trailed off.
"Unless what?" Elizabeth asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer herself.
"Sheppard," he whispered, grabbing his tablet PC off the control console then dashing for the door to the smaller chamber wherein lay the Colonel. Elizabeth followed on his heels, halting only when she caught sight of the stasis pod and the white clad figure attending it.
Atlantis—Anne—stood beside the Ancient pod calmly, almost lovingly, stroking the glass lid. Even as she did so, the rumbles in the city slowly calmed to dim roars, then dull whimpers, and then subsided all together. Stable light returned to the small chamber. Within the Lantean pod John still slept in peace, but Elizabeth knew that did not mean all was fine. Anne looked up as the two entered the room and Elizabeth could have sworn she saw tears in the woman's eyes.
"It is all right now, Dr. McKay, Dr. Weir," Anne soothed, stepping away from the colonel. "The city is fine, you need not worry."
The Canadian looked to the pod, fighting back a mist in his own eye. Damn allergies. He scolded himself. "What about…?" he began, looking to the pod, but could not bring himself to finish.
Anne straightened. "Colonel Sheppard's heart has failed him and in so doing caused great stress on his body, his conscious and, in turn, his link to the city. He has fallen into a coma," She explained calmly. "I had no choice but to forcibly severe his connection or he would have taken the city with him."
"Forcibly severe?" McKay blurted, panic rising in his tone. "Couldn't that cause brain damage?"
"Most definitely," Anne nodded. "But I had no choice. Doctor, we have no time to lose. Even now he begins to shut down—his heart falters, his mind wanes and his spirit loses the will to endure. Dr. McKay, we must act now while he still clings to hope or there may be nothing left of him to salvage."
"Yes, yes." Rushed the physicist, returning his attention to the tablet in his hands as the woman spoke. He tapped a few controls. Lights within the room flickered, and then seemed to brighten. "That should do it," he added, looking up cautiously.
Atlantis paused for a moment, eyes darting wildly as if reading a great volume of text. She breathed in sharply, like a swimmer returning from the depths of a great lake. A light smile touched her face and she closed her eyes, reveling in a waking sensation after centuries of slumber.
"Well?" Mckay prodded, unable to hide the worry in his voice. "How does it look?"
"Extensive damage still disrupts core of the medical sector," Atlantis informed flatly. Her soft smile began to fade. Elizabeth's heart sank with that smile. "Much of my former functionality still remains lost."
"Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth questioned. "Can you still help Colonel Sheppard?"
Atlantis nodded slowly. "Yes, though chance does not favor him."
"Can we do better than three percent?" McKay asked, almost on the verge of begging. "He has to have better than three percent."
Surprised, Elizabeth looked to the acerbic scientist, but she had no voice to speak. Is that what John had come to say? He had three chances in one hundred to live? Was that why he was so dead set on death?
Atlantis looked to McKay before falling silent for a few moments, calculating the airman's chances. Elizabeth hoped that Rodney had bought them another miracle, another life, another chance. She listened breathlessly as Atlantis announced her answer.
"I believe he has a chance of one in twenty."
Silently, Elizabeth looked to the pod, watching as the colonel's skin seemed to pale before her. One in twenty. That meant one man in twenty would walk out of that room alive. She didn't have nineteen Sheppards to risk. Heaven help me if I did, she though. But no, she had just the one. Just one would go under, and only one could return. But was the man laying there before her the one who could rise from the dead—again?