A/N: Standard disclaimer. See previous chapters.

A/N: This is another 'tween chapter, completed while I was on vacation. Sorry about the delay. Thank you for all the kind reviews!!

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Vigil

Though she was headed to her own office, Dr. Elizabeth Weir found herself outside the office of Kate Heightmeyer. The door opened at her knock.

"Elizabeth! Hello. Did we have a meeting I forgot?"

"No, Kate, I was just wondering if you had a little time now."

Pausing to consider a mental schedule, Kate nodded, and motioned the leader in. "I have a couple of hours free now. What can I do for you?"

Sitting once again in the chairs by the windows, Elizabeth smiled. "Something I hope won't take two hours."

Kate grinned back. "Agreed." She paused, then, to let the silence encourage Elizabeth. After a few more moments, it worked.

"Kate, I'm getting tired of the constant reminders to eat. Is there any way to cut them off?"

"I take it Carson has been nagging again?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Yes, and Teyla, too. John even left me a muffin this morning before he . . ."

She stopped, realizing that was the last communication she had had with him.

Kate tactfully ignored the awkward break and considered the question. "Well, Carson and I are both worried at your lack of appetite and habit of skipping meals."

Elizabeth threw up her hands, stood up and began to pace. "I don't understand what the problem is. I'm eating. I've gained four pounds this week."

"Yes, but you're still under weight. Have you really looked at yourself, Elizabeth? In a teenager, I might worry about anorexia." She held up her hands as Elizabeth spun toward her. "I know, I know, that's a disease about body image. Still, your lack of eating had you fainting in the gate room and looking starved."

Elizabeth looked at the floor then walked back over to the chair and sat down, looking out the windows. "I'm sorry, I'm just not hungry."

"I understand. Actually, Carson and I have different theories about why."

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow. "Care to share?"

Kate smiled then looked more serious. "Carson thinks your lack of appetite is due to stress. He's right that eating habits can change when the body is under stress for an extended period of time."

"But . . . ? What do you think?"

"I think your eating habits changed due to depression. You were worried about your people, not knowing if they were alive or dead. You couldn't move forward. I think you got depressed and just didn't eat. I was hoping that with the return of Colonel Sheppard's team you would start eating again. To a certain extent, I was right."

"Why to a certain extent?"

"Well, you still aren't packing away the calories."

"This is ridiculous. I've never been a big eater. Why is it becoming an issue now? And why has Carson started using John to 'guilt' me into eating?"

"He has?"

"Yes, I was treated to a 'you need to be strong for him' speech this afternoon."

"Hmmm. First of all, realize that Carson will do anything to help a patient, even play dirty."

Elizabeth almost snorted. "Yes, I think I have witnessed some of his questionable tactics with a certain colonel."

"Well, he has seen your, what -- interest? Concern? Affection for? John. And he has decided to use John as a way to get you to eat."

"Can you get him to stop? I don't like what he's insinuating. I also don't want others to pick up on his, uh, observations."

Kate gave a half-smile. "I can see that. Look, I'll talk to him and try to get him to cut it out. Keep in mind, though, that with Colonel Sheppard once more injured, he's worried that your stress will kill your appetite again."

"Any suggestions?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure you'll want to hear them."

"I'm open to almost anything right now."

"OK, let me prescribe you a mild antidepressant." As Elizabeth began to shake her head, Kate held up a hand. "Wait until you hear me through. If, as I suspect, your lack of eating was due to depression, the antidepressants should gradually correct the problem. I will prescribe an SSRI, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. All it does is increase the serotonin available to your brain. In a few weeks, we'll consider how you feel and how you're eating. If it's working, we'll keep going for awhile then taper off. If it isn't, we'll try something else. Either way, I'll talk to Carson and tell him we're working on the eating problem and he should back off for awhile."

"OK, that sounds fair. We'll reassess in three weeks or so?"

"Right. Now I want to change the subject some. How's the writing assignment coming?"

Elizabeth grimaced. "I started. It was turning into a 'Dear John' letter of sorts." She looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. "Then, suddenly something changed."

Kate's eyebrows went up. "Oh? What?"

"Have you had a chance to read the new policies from the SGC? I emailed copies to everyone."

"I noticed them, but I haven't read through them. Is something there?"

"You could say that. I would be interested in your interpretation." She stood up. "That's all I had, Kate, and I need to get back. Regular time next week?"

"Yes, but before you go, here's your prescription," said the psychiatrist, handing Elizabeth a small pill bottle. "Take one a day. You should probably start in the morning until you know if they make you sleepy or wired."

"OK," said Elizabeth, taking the bottle. She looked into the doctor's eyes and smiled. "In case I don't say it enough, thanks, Kate."

Kate smiled and ushered her out of her office.

Dr. Elizabeth Weir spent the next several hours in her office dealing with the endless paperwork of the expedition. She closed her laptop a few minutes before midnight and rubbed her eyes. She was just about caught up, again, but knew she would be behind tomorrow. Leaving her office, she nodded to the night shift and made her way to Edward Sheppard's quarters.

She knocked softly but got no answer. Finally, after knocking harder, the door was pulled open by an obviously sleepy colonel.

"Oh, Dr. Weir, right, Elizabeth. I must have fallen asleep," he said, rubbing his face.

"That's OK, I don't mind watching alone."

"No, no, I want to come. It will take me a few minutes to get ready, so why don't you go ahead."

"OK," said Elizabeth, moving away from the door.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I was going to pick up some coffee. Can I get you some?"

"That would be nice, thank you," she said, smiling, and turning once again toward the infirmary.

The infirmary was quiet for the night, the lights low. The soft beeping of the monitors was comforting, in a way, reminding her that everyone still lived. She walked up to the bed in the corner. Ronon uncoiled from a chair, nodding to her as he left. She approached the head of the bed and looked at its occupant.

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard still lay unconscious. The heart monitor reflected his continuing life, the ventilator continuing his breath, but his face was pale and lax. Carson Beckett, seeing Elizabeth, walked up softly to stand next to her.

"He's holding his own, love."

"But he's not breathing on his own."

"Actually, the ventilator is just a precaution. The scan we did prior to surgery revealed bruised ribs, and breathing can be affected by anesthesia. As soon as he wakes up, I hope we can dispense with it." Carson squeezed her shoulder. "I'm going to get a wee nap, but the staff knows to call me if needed. Be sure you get your own rest, Elizabeth," he finished and walked back to his office.

Elizabeth grabbed the chair left by Ronon and moved it closer to John's right side. Reaching out, she squeezed his hand. "Hang in there, John, and come back to us."

She lowered her head to the bed, resting her eyes. The smell of coffee and a soft footfall had her sitting up.

"I wasn't sure how you liked it, so I brought some cream and sugar."

"No, black is fine," said Elizabeth, gladly taking the cup from Edward Sheppard. The man moved up to the side of the bed, staring at his son.

Quiet once again descended on the infirmary.

Finally, Elizabeth moved. "There's another chair here."

"No, I'm good."

Elizabeth smiled at the phrase. She wondered what else John had received from this man.

Clearing her throat, she kept her voice down, but said, "So, what was John like as a boy?"

Edward appeared surprised by the question, but he saw that she was serious and he eased back into the chair beside her.

"Well, he was always into trouble of some kind."

Elizabeth gave a wry smile. "Well, at least some things haven't changed." She looked over at him. "Why don't we trade stories. I'd like to hear some about his early life, and maybe I can come up with some things that weren't in the reports."

Edward gave a half smile, turning back to the figure on the bed. "He will probably want to kill us when he wakes up. Want me to go first?"

"Yes, please, but we have to keep it down so Beckett doesn't come after us. So, warn me if it's too funny."

"Point noted." With that he paused, then began.

The rest of the night passed in storytelling. He related John's first experience with flight, a hot air balloon at a fair; she told him about meeting John when he accidentally sat in the Antarctica chair. He described the first car, she described him trying to tell the Athosian children the story of Friday the 13th. He explained about the family fascination with Ferris wheels, she described how John tried to explain football to Teyla and Ronon. He explained about the family's many moves, she described how John had created a family on Atlantis. In the darkest hours before dawn, he described the loss of his wife, John's mother. She provided the background on Sumner and Ford.

As night turned to day, the two fell silent, comfortable with each other and with a common concern for the silent patient. That was how Beckett found them the next morning, not asleep, but quiet, pondering some of the things they had learned.

Beckett quickly took a set of vitals, reassuring them that nothing was worse, but nothing was better either. Soon after, Teyla came to relieve them.

"How about some breakfast?" said Edward, motioning toward the mess hall.

Elizabeth hesitated. She still wasn't particularly hungry, but she nodded and followed him through the line to a table occupied by Rodney and Ronon.

"Any change?" asked Rodney, stopping with his spoon halfway to his mouth.

"No," said Elizabeth, stirring some oatmeal and adding sugar. "But Beckett said he's still holding his own."

Rodney grunted and returned to the laptop he was reading from.

Ronon looked at Elizabeth. "He's strong. He'll get through it."

Elizabeth nodded and returned to her breakfast. All of them finished quickly and went their separate ways, Rodney to his lab, Ronon to the gym, Edward and Elizabeth to their quarters.

"Let me know if the SGC has trouble with me staying on," said Edward as he opened his door.

"Of course, but I don't anticipate any problems," replied Elizabeth. She then continued down the hall to her own quarters where she showered and changed for the day.

Once she got to her office, she began to prepare the report for the SGC. As she was reviewing her list, Dr. Daniel Jackson knocked on the door.

"Dr. Jackson, come in! I had almost forgotten you were here."

"I knew you were on light duty, so I've been keeping myself busy with the anthropologists. I have a good collection of images of ancient writings that you haven't had time to translate yet, and I was able to spend some additional time looking through the ancient database. I think I have plenty of data to keep me busy for awhile. As I translate it, I'll send it back to you during the weekly reports."

"Thank you. By the way, Colonel Edward Sheppard will not be returning with you today. I'm going to inform the SGC that he will be staying another week. Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard was injured on a mission and has not yet regained consciousness. I thought it would be somewhat cruel to make him leave now."

"OK, I'll put in my support if it comes to that. I don't think Landry will have a problem, though. What happened?"

Elizabeth told him what she knew of the mission, and Daniel shook his head. "First the Go'auld wanted us as hosts, now the inhabitants of the Pegasus galaxy want our genes."

"Don't forget the Ori want our worship."

"And our freedom of thought." He sighed and stood up. "When are you planning on making contact?"

"In about two hours. It should be around 1pm at the SGC."

"Fine. I'll get my stuff and be ready to go." Giving her a little wave, the scientist hurried back to his guest quarters to get packed.

Elizabeth finished checking with each department on material to be sent and collecting the data. A file of emails was also prepared for upload. She just managed to finish in the two hours she had allotted.

When Daniel returned to the gate room, Elizabeth nodded to Chuck. "Please dial Earth."

Daniel came up to the control room while the gate was dialing.

As the wormhole engaged, Elizabeth sent the Atlantis IDC and her laptop link came up.

"SGC, this is Atlantis."

"This is the SGC, Atlantis, Landry here." General Landry was smiling.

"Hello, General Landry. I'm sending our files now. I also have a scientist waiting to come back."

"The iris is open. Tell him to come when ready."

"Thank you, once again, for your great hospitality," said Daniel, turning to Elizabeth and extending his hand.

Elizabeth shook his hand. "Thank you for participating in the most entertaining debriefing I've ever received. Give my best to everyone."

"Will do," said Daniel, and with a wave, he went down the stairs and through the now engaged wormhole.

"He's on his way, General."

"And he's here. We've also received your files. Where's Colonel Sheppard?"

"Colonel Edward Sheppard has requested we delay his departure. Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard has been injured and has not regained consciousness. We are hopeful he will in the near future. I've agreed to him staying for another week."

"Acknowledged, Atlantis," said Landry. "Tell him we'll see him in a week. Is that all, Dr. Weir?"

"That's all, General. Atlantis out."

"SGC out."

On Earth, Landry closed the link and worried again about the injury-prone colonel who carried the most powerful instance of the ancient gene.

Dr. Elizabeth Weir, meanwhile, reviewed the files that came through from Stargate Command. Nothing critical jumped out at her, so she excused herself from the control room and went to the mess hall to pick up some lunch. Skipping the lunch room, she went back to her quarters to eat and take a nap before another meeting at 3pm. The news from Beckett earlier suggested she faced another night in the infirmary.

In the infirmary, Beckett had just taken the latest round of vitals. Though nothing was worse, the colonel seemed no closer to waking up, and Beckett was beginning to worry about the man slipping into a coma. So far his brain function appeared normal on the EEG, but his continuing unconsciousness was of major concern.

That was still the case when Elizabeth Weir and Edward Sheppard again appeared in the infirmary to keep watch. The same sounds of the monitors kept them company, but the mood was more somber. They shared a few more stories, and Edward asked about some details left out of reports, but the conversation was punctuated with long silences as each considered the object of their vigil.

John remained hooked up to monitors, with tubes delivering and removing fluids. His beard was beginning to grow in, and Elizabeth wondered if she should mention it to Edward in case he wanted to shave him. She knew the nurses would do it if one of them did not. His arm was still immobilized against his chest, but the surgical dressing had been changed and the drain removed. He looked vulnerable, lying in the bed, his face relaxed and almost as pale as the sheets.

Elizabeth had taken John's hand soon after arriving, needing that contact and hoping to feel an answering squeeze. As the night progressed, Edward, too, seemed to need more contact with his son, and moved his chair closer to the bed so he could rest a hand on John's leg. The morning shift change found them both dozing, resting their heads on the bed next to the healing soldier.

Edward stirred in response to the sound of a blood pressure cuff being inflated. He opened his eyes to find Dr. Beckett once again taking the early set of vitals on his patient.

"Morning, Colonel," whispered Beckett, nodding toward Elizabeth who was still asleep.

"'Morning, Doc," replied Edward, easing himself upright and stretching to relieve the stiffness in his shoulders. "Any change?"

Carson shook his head as he recorded the data. At that point, Teyla walked up quietly and shook Elizabeth.

"Dr. Weir, you can go back to your quarters now."

"What?" murmured Elizabeth, slowly realizing where she was. She looked up quickly at Beckett who shook his head.

"Why don't you get something to eat then some rest? I'll call you if there is any change."

Elizabeth nodded and looked over to Edward. Getting an answering nod from him, she stood up, and the two left the infirmary.

"I'm too tired to eat," she said, as they walked in the direction of the mess hall.

"I'm thinking of just grabbing something and leaving. You?"

"That sounds like a good idea," said Elizabeth as they reached the mess hall. They both picked up some pastry and fruit and headed back to the residential area.

"I hope he wakes up today, but if not, same time tonight?" asked Edward, palming open his door.

"Yes, I'll be there," answered Elizabeth, wearily giving a slight wave as she moved on to her own quarters.

She tried to rest, she really tried. After a shower and some pastry, she lay down and composed herself for sleep, but it wouldn't come. Her concern for John was growing with Beckett's unchanging reports. Finally, she gave up, got dressed, and returned to her office to look over the new information from the SGC.

That night found her with Edward Sheppard once again sharing a vigil. There was no talking, now. They gravitated to their positions of the night before: her hand in Johns, Edward's on John's leg. At one point, she laid her head on the bed next to their clasped hands. Seeing her, Edward reached over and set his free hand on her shoulder, trying to give some comfort where there was none. So they sat in shared silence and shared concern.

Two more days passed in much the same way, and Edward was beginning to fear that he would never see his son wake up. As they kept vigil for the fifth night in a row, he could see Elizabeth's shoulders shaking where she had, once again, laid her head next to John's hand. Wishing again he knew more about their relationship, he moved his chair over so he could provide some comfort, even if only in the form of a grip on her shoulder. She reached back to take his hand, a silent acknowledgement of his concern. And so another night came to an end.

As Beckett took John's vitals, Elizabeth stood up from the chair, stretching her stiffened muscles, rubbing her eyes, and reaching over to give John's hand one more squeeze. This time, however, she felt an answering pressure.

"Carson!" she said, looking carefully at John's face.

Dr. Beckett came around the bed and also looked at John's face for some sign of consciousness. He motioned to a nurse to bring some ice and to be prepared. Edward Sheppard moved up beside Elizabeth, sure that he could see a twitch in John's eyelids.

"Colonel Sheppard, John," said Beckett, glancing at John's father, "Can ya hear me, lad?"

"He squeezed my hand again, harder," said Elizabeth, just as John seemed to begin struggling against the ventilator.

"Easy, lad, you know the drill. Let's see some eyes, then I'll get that thing out of your throat."

John opened his eyes, then they seemed to open even wider in panic. Beckett quickly prepared to remove the ventilator.

"Give me a good cough to speed it out, John." The cough wasn't strong, but it got the tube out with a minimum of gagging. After handing off the tube to the nurse, Beckett tested John's pupil reaction.

"Aye, do you know where you are? How do you feel?"

"C'rson?" His voice was raspy, and Beckett quickly gave him some ice chips.

"Better?"

"Yes," in a slightly better voice. "But why is it dark in here?"

Suddenly the lights in the infirmary brightened to an almost painful degree. Beckett looked around, thinking them dim, then looked more closely at John's eyes. "Dark? What do you mean?"

"I can see only shadows, and I can't seem to make the lights come up. Is something wrong?"

Beckett just looked at Elizabeth and Edward, sharing their look of dismay.

TBC

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