A/N: To the few of you who are actually still reading this, thank you! Not that I blame those of you who aren't because of my inability to update. *Epic fail* Anyway, this is the last chapter, although if enough interest is generated I have an epilogue in mind. Again, thanks for reading!
It had been three days, fourteen hours and forty-one minutes since she'd woken up in the infirmary with a scratchy throat, a tube in her chest, needles in her arm and no clue how she'd gotten there. Dr. Keller had been there in an instant, explaining this and that; and Elizabeth learned the tube in her chest was there to keep her lung from collapsing, three of her ribs were broken, her right kidney bruised, and her left arm dislocated.
She didn't remember being rescued. It took another three hours for the memories to come flooding back.
It had been two days, ten hours and twelve minutes since her x-rays came back clean and her chest tube was removed. Keller presented her with the wonderful news that she would be staying in the infirmary for at least another week and a half. Teyla snuck her an electronic crossword puzzle and offered her a sympathetic shoulder if she ever needed a friend. It had taken every ounce of self control she had not to fall apart in front of the Athosian leader.
It had been one day, six hours and fifty-two minutes since Keller had pronounced her fit enough to consume regular food (or whatever passed for it in Atlantis). Rodney and a surprisingly upbeat Ronon had brought her spaghetti and jello from the cafeteria, making small talk while she attempted to eat the lukewarm pasta. She pushed away the half-formed thought that might have given her a craving for turkey sandwiches and even managed to contribute to the conversation.
It had been exactly nineteen hours since the swelling had gone down enough in her injured eye that she could open it all the way. She celebrated by crying into her pillow when the infirmary's night shift dimmed the lights and retreated to their office.
In all that time, John hadn't come to visit her once.
Closing her eyes against the harsh glare of the infirmary lights, Elizabeth tried not to let it get to her. She had a pretty good idea why Sheppard was avoiding her; and she could even understand his reasoning to a point. Still, it hurt in a way that he hadn't been responsible for in a long time.
She eyed her I.V. line with thinly veiled disgust; what she really needed was to get out of here. Then she could track him down and let him know exactly…
Someone cleared their throat and suddenly the object of her thoughts was standing there in front of her, looking like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Is this a bad time?" His boyish good looks were marked by cautious amusement.
Elizabeth certainly wasn't going to answer that; she motioned toward the chair Lorne had pulled over to her bedside earlier in the day, "Have a seat."
He looked hesitant, his hands shoved down the pockets of his uniform, but he did as she suggested.
"So I…"
"I know you're…"
They broke off at the same time, him with an awkward laugh, and her with the troubling knowledge that their normal rhythm was off. Usually they were so in tune with each other, but so far the only thing they'd managed to do with any kind of synchronization was to cut each other off.
John tried again, "I'm sorry I haven't been in to see you, Elizabeth; I just…"
She knew.
"Can I ask you a question?" It sounded like he was going to inquire about something benign, like the weather, not something that would rip her heart out and splatter it across the wall.
Elizabeth weighed her options in the length of time it took her to inhale. She knew John wasn't really looking for her permission; whatever question he had on his mind, he was going to ask her anyway. But he had left her an opening, one she could use to her advantage.
"All right, but only one; and only if you'll answer one for me." She wondered if he'd catch the loophole in her acquiescence.
He narrowed his eyes, "I'll answer your question if you answer mine."
Drat, he was quick on the uptake; either he'd been spending too much time with her or he'd taken a negotiation training course at some point in his career.
She sighed and nodded, not seeing any way around the inevitable. At least by setting some conditions she could pretend it had been on her terms.
"Did you really punch that guard in the nose?" John's tone held a touch of pride.
She breathed a little easier, "Yes." And it felt good too, she added silently.
He leaned in closer, "Ronon said he found a girl outside your cell…"
She flinched, then tried to cover it up by adjusting her gown.
John caught it anyway, "Whatever happened on that planet; none of it was your fault Elizabeth," his voice was soft and filled with concern.
"Who are you in this situation, the pot or the kettle?" The small smile she offered was wry.
"Touché," His grin was easy, but his eyes told her she'd hit a nerve, "So who was she?"
"Who?" She could play dumb with the best of them, and Umi was still too painful a subject to talk about, the catalyst to a breakdown.
"Elizabeth," He expelled her name like a sigh.
"Ah ah ah," she waved her finger at him like a mother scolding a child, "You said one question. Now it's my turn."
He shook his head ruefully, "Remind me never to get in a diplomatic dispute with you."
"Duly noted." She waited half a beat, swallowed hard, and then went in for the kill, "Why do you feel responsible for what happened to me?"
There was a pause, a strained moment of silence that had her questioning the wisdom in her choice of words.
He blew out a breath and the tension dissipated, "The last time the guards tried to "encourage" me to use the chair, things…got ugly."
That she remembered very well, and it was something she wasn't likely to forget anytime soon.
"They gave their little speeches, gave the same old threats," John hesitated, and his mouth suddenly evolved into a thin, grim line. She didn't miss the way his eyes briefly scanned her from head to toe. "Then they decided to try something new. One of them—well, he threatened you specifically." He stopped again, his gaze fixed firmly on his hands, and this time the silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity.
Elizabeth thought about prompting him, but she could guess what had happened next. Knowing full well how fiercely devoted he was to his team, it shouldn't have surprised her; and yet somehow she still found herself in awe over John's willingness to defend her. She was torn between annoyance and deep appreciation; and somewhere in the back of her mind there was a question surfacing about why he had put the emphasis on the threat to her.
"…didn't take kindly to me throwing punches," Elizabeth suddenly tuned back in to John, who seemed oblivious to the fact she'd ever tuned out.
He blinked and she realized his attention had been focused on something she couldn't see, something beyond the physical room they were in. "Anyway, I must have blacked out, because the next thing I remember was waking up in our cell."
Elizabeth waited, then shook her head in confusion when it became evident he wasn't going to divulge more, "John, I'm not sure…"
He was incredulous, like he couldn't believe she hadn't put the pieces together herself, "Don't you get it? I'm responsible! If I hadn't lost my temper you would never have been put in the position you were in."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Her entire body protested as she instinctively lurched forward.
"Why did you do it? Why'd you stay behind?" He was angry, but whether he was more upset with her or himself, she couldn't tell.
"You're not expendable, John."
"Neither are you!"
She shook her head, "It's not the same; what you are to this city, your Ancient gene…"
"You're right," John cut her off, "It wouldn't be the same, but you've got it backward. You are worth more to this expedition than I ever could be."
"I just make decisions and try to keep Atlantis running smoothly; it's a hard job, yes, but there are any number of people who could do it just as well…if not better."
"You really don't see it, do you?" John was incredulous, "You ARE Atlantis. You and the city are virtually interchangeable in most people's minds."
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, "I'm just a figurehead; that's all. It would be easy to find a replacement for me."
"No!" John spoke with such force that Elizabeth drew back unconsciously.
"You are the soul of this city," He continued in a tone that was softer, but no less passionate, "You care about everyone and go out of your way to make sure everyone feels appreciated. You work harder than anyone and you sacrifice so much of yourself for Atlantis. The people here would follow you anywhere, Elizabeth."
There was a fire in the depths of his eyes as he met hers, "and there is no way anyone could ever replace you."
A lone tear tracked its way down her cheek; and with the precursor to more brimming behind her lashes, Elizabeth reached for his hand, winding her cold fingers with John's warm ones.
She tried to say something, anything to thank him; but her throat had closed to the point where she couldn't speak. Luckily, nonverbal communication was their forte; and he seemed to understand her gratitude despite her inability to articulate it.
They just sat there in silence for a while, each drawing comfort from the other. The clattering of a tray and a nurse's muttered oath startled them both out of their reverie. Elizabeth jumped back, quickly pulling her hand out of John's grasp and hoping none of the infirmary staff had seen them; they were notorious gossipers. A second later, as the colonel graced her with his trademarked half-smile, she wondered why she cared what anyone thought.
She returned his smile, then yawned as a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over her.
"I'm sorry," The apology was punctuated by another yawn.
Standing up, John reclaimed her hand and gave it one last squeeze, "No, it's okay; I should go and let you get some rest. You look like you could use a little sleep."
Sinking back into her pillow, Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "Way to flatter a girl, Sheppard. You're not looking all that fantastic yourself."
"Well it just so happens I'm off to bed myself," he mimicked her expression, smirking when her eyebrow shot up even further, "All right, you win. I'll see you tomorrow, Elizabeth."
"Wait," Her softly uttered plea stopped him in his tracks. Her gaze, clear and intense, caught and held his, "I just want you to know that I am dealing with this, John. I just…I can't talk about it yet."
He didn't say anything for a long time, and for once, she had no idea what he was thinking. Finally, he nodded once, leaning in to brush away the lone tear track on her cheek. "When you're ready to talk, or if the nightmares become too much…"
Knowing her voice would come out sounding shaky, she opted to simply nod in return, casting her eyes to the floor when the level of emotion in his eyes threatened to undo her.
He placed a finger under her chin and gently tilted her face until she was once again looking at him, "Find me."