A/N: Well, an update has been a long time coming, and I wouldn't be surprised if there is little to no interest left, but here we go, the next chapter of my story. Sorry this chapter is so short, the next one will be longer.

Just as a reminder, this story takes place sometime mid-season two, and makes mention of a few early episodes, namely Intruder.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Elizabeth!" John called desperately, "Elizabeth!"

There was no answer. He slammed a fist into the stone wall, the subsequent pain in his hand barely registering.

"Colonel?" John could hear McKay's worried inquiry, but it seemed as if it wasn't directed at him.

He was completely numb. Icy fingers tightened around his heart as he stared, unseeing, at the ground in front of him. He hadn't been able to help her, to save her, and now he had lost her forever. "She's gone." His voice was cold, emotionless.

Rodney looked stricken, for once at a loss for words.

After a long silence the scientist choked out, "You mean she's dead? Are you sure?"

John didn't look at him. "She told me she had reached a dead end and when I tried to contact her, there was nothing, just static."

"But she could still…" Rodney trailed off, floored by the utter hopelessness he saw in the Colonel's eyes.

"That thing was still chasing her. She knew she was in trouble McKay. She said…she said, 'Goodbye.'" John uttered the last word softly, the power of its finality draining the strength from his voice.

Rodney, his face unnaturally pale, walked over and awkwardly placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Look, I'm really not that good at this kind of thing, but uh, well I know how much Elizabeth means, ah, meant to you and…"

John turned and walked away, effectively stopping McKay from saying anything else. He didn't want to hear any platitudes, not when his emotions were so raw, not when everything inside of him was aching with barely suppressed anguish.

He needed to get away, to breathe. He couldn't stop the heartrending questions that invaded his mind.

What was Atlantis going to do without her?

What was he going to do without her?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

After Teyla and Ronon contacted Atlantis and were assured that Major Lorne and his team, who had returned early from their off world mission, were on their way, they started the long trek back to the ruin.

"We have contacted Atlantis, Colonel Sheppard. Major Lorne is on his way and should arrive at your location within the hour."

Teyla frowned at the Colonel's quiet and distant tone when he replied, "Good work Teyla; we'll see you in a few hours. Sheppard out."

She sent Ronon a worried look before clicking her radio on again, "Is something wrong Colonel?"

"Elizabeth…she's gone." His answer was clipped, his voice reserved.

Teyla felt her heart sink. She and Dr. Weir had not been close, but she respected and admired the leader of Atlantis. The repercussions of her loss would be great indeed. She relayed the news to Ronon and watched as his eyes hardened in response.

I am sorry… John." She said with remorse, "She will be greatly missed."

He mumbled something in response and then signed out. Teyla bowed her head for a brief moment, grieving not only for Elizabeth Weir, but for the part of John Sheppard that would have inevitably died along with her.

Ronon moved closer to her and Teyla smiled gratefully as they continued walking, each drawing comfort from the other's proximity.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

When Lorne and his team touched down at the ruin, they were met by a very subdued Colonel Sheppard. John quickly briefed them, repeating the bad news.

Major Lorne visibly crumpled and then asked him, his voice wavering slightly, if he could try and contact Dr. Weir again. John, who had already tried to reach her on two separate occasions when hope had briefly touched his consciousness, and who was now without an ounce of that particular emotion, nodded numbly. Lorne's endeavors failed just as spectacularly as his own. Elizabeth was really gone.

The young major was taking the news hard, John noted, and wondered if Lorne had had more than a substantial crush on their expedition leader.

As soon as everything was unloaded and Lorne's team situated with various tools of all different shapes and sizes, they got to work hacking and chipping away at the bare wall next to the writing. There was no way John was just going to leave Elizabeth in there.

He himself picked up something resembling a sledgehammer and got to work, ignoring the heat of the afternoon and the strain on his arms as he swung, over and over again, concentrating only on the feel of the handle and the curve of her face, taking out his anger and grief on the hapless rock.