Update!
:D I'm closing on my new place tomorrow morning then moving. I'll try to be timely on getting the next (and might be last?) chapter of this story out. Thanks for the continued support and kind words :)
"Dr. Weir."
Elizabeth had no idea how long she'd been sitting in her office, wrapped in her own thoughts, faced away from the door and the world. So, the voice that suddenly broke her silent brooding startled her. She turned away from the wall to face her doorway and met gazes with Colonel Caldwell. She sighed. "Colonel. What can I do for you?" She held her expression carefully neutral as he stood still for a moment, before slowly walking into her office.
Caldwell gestured at the chair in front of her desk. "May I?"
Woolsey's words echoed in her head.
"It wasn't him…"
Elizabeth softened her expression and nodded slightly. "Please."
Caldwell settled into the chair with a heavy sigh. Elbows perched on the armrests, he folded his hands in his lap and stared back at her for a moment before speaking. "I assume you spoke to the IOA?"
Only a couple dozen times in the last week… Elizabeth nodded. She knew exactly what he was talking about. "Woolsey contacted me personally."
One side of Caldwell's mouth turned up slightly. "You do have some admirers out there, Dr. Weir." Something akin of respect flashed across his expression and as quickly as it appeared, the respect was replaced with a well-used neutral mask.
Elizabeth remained silent; observing the colonel, trying to gauge his mood but it was proving to be a daunting task. Somewhere along the way he'd learned to hide his moods well. A twinge of pain cramped her gut. So different from John…
Caldwell looked away from her. "Dr. Weir, the IOA is doing this against my recommendation. I know that doesn't change anything, but," he looked back at her, his gaze sincere, "I thought you should know anyway."
Elizabeth sighed deeply and sat back in her chair. "I already knew." She quirked an eyebrow at his questioning expression. "Off the record, Woolsey told me." She pushed out of her chair and stood. "In spite of the circumstances, I think congratulations are in order."
Caldwell stared up at her for a moment, before slowly standing. His expression was no nonsense. "I know you don't mean that."
Elizabeth resisted the urge to cross her arms defensively and instead settled for rubbing her brow; a vain attempt to tune out the headache that had plagued her for days. "I'd be lying if I said I was happy about this, Steven," she admitted plainly, "but I don't blame you. I blame those…" she looked up, "how did John put it? 'Paper pushing bureaucrats.'" Her small smile to him felt faint and pathetic.
Caldwell stepped around her desk and walked closer to her.
Elizabeth watched him silently. His gaze and demeanor felt very direct and straightforward, so she matched her expression to his.
Caldwell stopped a short distance from her. He was close enough to convey sincerity but far enough to remain unthreatening. "Dr. Weir… Elizabeth. I know we've had our differences. When I first came to Atlantis, I was convinced at least one of you was wrong for the job."
She felt one brow quirk slightly, and her gut clenched, but she remained silent and let him continue.
"Now?" Caldwell shrugged and his expression turned slightly challenging. "I'm still not entirely convinced, but I've seen things from Sheppard…," a hint of respect colored his expression briefly. "I'm willing to keep an open mind." He looked around. "This is…" after a moment his eyes caught her and his gaze narrowed slightly. "Premature."
Elizabeth drew in a silent, but deep breath as she quickly tried to process what he'd said and what he'd meant. At first she wasn't convinced his words and meanings were the same, but as she studied his expression some, she watched as he let down his guard slightly and, whether conscious or not, conveyed a hint of sincerity to her. In her gut she felt he was being honest, and that instinct had gotten her through too many diplomatic summits to ignore it. "Thank you, Steven," she said quietly.
Caldwell stepped back, turned and looked out the window at the inactive Stargate. "It might take some time to find the right person to command the Daedalus in my place." He looked at her. "I'll delay them as long as I can, but once the IOA and the Air Force have made up their minds…"
Elizabeth nodded and settled for conveying her thanks through her expression instead of words.
"That's the best I can do," Caldwell added quietly. He nodded once at her and silently took his leave.
She stared at the gate, barely hearing him leave her office. The situation was slightly improved, but not enough to make her feel that much better. She truly believed Caldwell would do what he could to help her, but, while he had considerable influence, there was only so much he could do.
"We're running out of time," she muttered before abruptly turning and tapping her headset. "Rodney, this is Weir, come in." After a moment a response came back over her headset.
"McKay here."
"Can you please come to my office? It's important." She smiled slightly at the quiet but exasperated sigh that precluded Rodney's reply.
"On my way. McKay out."
Elizabeth's smile faded as she walked back to her chair and slowly sat.
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"Ach, what do ye think you're doing?"
John winced, finished tying his boot lace and slowly sat up, meeting the intense gaze on Carson's face. "Going for a walk," he answered bluntly.
"Again?" Carson walked closer to John. "I know you're anxious to heal, Colonel, and you're getting much stronger, but I don't want ye to overdo it."
John took a deep breath and stifled his frustration. He scooted back slightly on his bed and swung his feet back and forth. "Come on, Carson. A walk to Stargate Ops and back isn't going to kill me. I'm going nuts cooped up in here."
"By yourself, I suppose," Carson crossed his arms over his chest.
"Nope. I'm going with him," a deep voice replied.
John looked past Carson and smiled at Ronon as the big man walked up and looked at Carson, his expression smug. John's eyes travelled back to Carson who seemed less than convinced that Ronon's presence made any difference whatsoever. "See? Ronon will make sure I don't get lost," he quipped darkly.
"Right," Carson answered dryly. He stared at Ronon for a moment before looking back at John. "You're only a few days away from being released. Don't push it."
John smiled. "No way." He slid off the bunk and took a deep breath as he found his balance. Every day it took less and less time for him to equilibrate when he stood up, and that alone encouraged him. Now if I had the memories… he sighed and pushed away the thought. Passing Carson, his mouth quirked. "Thanks, Doc."
Carson's smile was genuine. "Aye, you're welcome. Don't be long."
John walked past the doctor. "Yes, mom," he answered.
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John paused as the infirmary doors closed behind him and took a deep, satisfied breath.
"Sheppard?"
John flashed a quick smile at Ronon. "Feels good to be out of my medical prison."
Ronon just chuckled quietly.
John buried his hands in his pant pockets and resumed walking down the hallway. "So, what have you been up to?" He glanced sideways at Ronon.
"Been off-world a few times with Lorne's team," Ronon answered. "Sparring with Teyla, helping the Athosians set up a hunting camp in the mountains. Not much else."
John looked directly at Ronon as the Satedan, seemingly on the verge of saying something, stared at him a moment before looking away. "What?" John asked.
Ronon shrugged. "Was just going to say I'm looking forward to our team going off world again." Ronon's gaze sobered as he looked back at John.
John sighed deeply and fixed his gaze forward as he continued down the hallway. He wanted to agree with Ronon, and somewhere in his gut, he knew leading his team was the bread and butter of his life, but the feelings weren't there. The sentiment, the bond. Sure, he'd re-made friends with all of them, but if there was one thing John had learned in his various tours of duty, is that there was nothing like a life or death situation to cement the bond between teammates. Facing death together forged a deep connection between people and actually made the team a more cohesive unit. It was still there for them. Ronon, Teyla even Rodney, but not for him. He knew it was buried somewhere, deep inside him, but shielded by his amnesia… and he keenly felt its absence.
"Sorry, Sheppard," Ronon finally spoke.
John flashed him a weak smile. "It's okay. Believe me, if I have my way, you'll get your wish." He returned his gaze forward as the east doors to the Gate room opened. Stepping through, he paused as his gaze fixed on the elegant blues and grays of the Stargate.
"Then you don't even know about the Stargate?"
"The what?"
"Sheppard?"
John could feel Ronon's scrutinizing gaze on him. He shook his head slightly, snapping out of his memories. "Nothing." He walked up the main stairs and into ops, freezing as a loud, demanding voice broke the relative quiet surrounding him.
"What? Of all the ridiculous, asinine… they're out of their damned, pea-brained minds!"
John turned fast, his gaze fixing on Elizabeth's office just in time to see her raise her hand at an obviously angry Rodney.
"Rodney," Elizabeth's voice was only slightly quieter.
"Where's Ronon?" Rodney answered, turning his volume up more. "Can we just have him shoot those squabbling…"
"Rodney!" Elizabeth snapped loudly, her voice echoing through Ops. She did a double take as she spotted John and Ronon standing quietly next to one of the control panels.
Even from a distance, John could see her shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh, before she waved them to her office.
Rodney spotted John and his expression turned uncomfortable. "I uhh… yeah." He looked at Elizabeth. "Bad news is your department."
John stepped sideways making room for Rodney on the narrow walkway between Ops and Elizabeth's office, as the doctor breezed by him without so much as a glance. John arched a brow at Ronon. "This can't be good."
Ronon grunted and said nothing as John once more walked towards her office. He stopped in the doorway. "What's got Rodney so pissed?"
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His question was simple enough, but Elizabeth suddenly found she couldn't look him in the eye, as she turned away, she could sense him stiffening at her response. Elizabeth sighed. What did she expect? It wasn't like this moment wasn't going to happen. He'd been relieved of command… and sooner or later she'd have to tell him. She walked behind her desk, before sitting down and folding her hands on its surface. "Come in and have a seat you two."She looked up and right into John's narrowed gaze.
John walked in and slowly sat in one of the chairs, while Ronon took the other. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you have to say?"
Elizabeth looked away, wishing, in vain, that she didn't have to tell him what she was about to say. "I received a communiqué from the IOA today…" Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes.
After a moment, John broke the silence. "They relieved me of my command, didn't they?"
Elizabeth swallowed hard. John's resigned and quiet voice held no note of question and she nodded silently.
"They're crazy," Ronon grumbled.
"Rodney agrees," she answered. Slowly Elizabeth looked up and straight into the intense, dark eyes of John. "And so do I. We're still fighting this, John. Even Colonel Caldwell is on your side." She watched as he slowly stood and walked over to the window overlooking the Stargate.
"Great," he answered softly. He looked back at her, anger, frustration and sadness all shouting their injustices at her, but his voice remained quiet. "When do I leave?"
Elizabeth's fingers tightened around each other as she stared down at her hands. "The Daedalus is scheduled to leave for Earth in three days." She pulled her hands apart and reached towards his arm as she looked up at him. "John…"
He stepped back. "Don't." For a moment, his expression softened. "I know you tried. Thanks." He turned and swiftly left her office without another word.
Elizabeth's gaze fell on Ronon, who sat totally still in his chair. "Aren't you going to go with him?"
"Nope. Man needs some time alone." Ronon fixed her with a no-nonsense stare. "This isn't right."
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. "I know." She dropped her head in resignation. "But there's nothing I can do to stop it."
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John took the back stairs down from Ops two at a time, his growing strength fueled by anger. Damn it! Part of him could see the IOA's point, even if he truly believed they were jumping the gun, and having that part war with the rest of him only pissed him off more. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall as he stared around in vain, knowing who he needed to talk to, but not knowing where to go. A moment of dark humor passed through him as he envisioned himself with two bandaged hands, and that one thought was about all that kept him from denting the defenseless wall next to him.
He thought for a moment, before an idea momentarily chased back the dark cloud over his emotions. He smiled slightly and turned, making a beeline for his own quarters. Someplace, he thought with renewed frustration, he could actually find!
Stepping through the doorway into his quarters, John stopped, his gaze scanning the room until he zeroed in on the short table next to his bed. He walked swiftly to it and picked up the small radio that sat there. Fitting it over his ear, he tapped the call button as he headed back towards the door. "McKay, this is Sheppard, come in."
"Sheppard?" Rodney's voice immediately responded. "What are you doing with a radio?"
John abruptly halted and ground his teeth. "Never mind that. Where are you?"
"My lab. Why? What's going on? That is," Rodney stumbled, "I think I do know what's going on, but…" his voice trailed off.
"Rodney, shut up. I need to talk to you. In person. Now."
"Fine!" Annoyance colored Rodney's voice. "I'm in my lab."
John's tight control on his frustration slipped a little. " And where the hell is that?" He snapped forcefully.
"Oh," Rodney's voice was considerably quieter. "Right. Where are you?"
John took a deep breath and composed himself. "My quarters."
"Leave and turn left. I'll guide you the rest of the way."
"Copy that." John slammed his hand on the door crystal and stalked from his quarters.
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Rodney looked up from his laptop as Sheppard stormed into his lab. His gaze narrowed. It was safe to say that through this whole ordeal, Rodney had been less then comfortable with Sheppard's situation. Personal relationships had never been his strong point. Dealing with a man who's lost his memory? Way out of Rodney's realm of comfort. But standing in the doorway staring at him was someone he found familiar. Gone was the hesitation and shadow of insecurity that had shrouded the Colonel since his injury. The face that stared back at Rodney was the determined face of the same man that had saved all their skins more than once. "Sheppard? What's going on?"
Sheppard walked into the room and stopped on the other side of the counter Rodney stood at. Rodney felt like the colonel's eyes were going to bore a hole straight through him. "Words, Colonel," he snapped. "Words would be good here."
"I need your help," Sheppard replied quietly but intensely.
Rodney closed the lid on his laptop. "Elizabeth told you the IOA relieved you, didn't she?" He watched Sheppard's lips tighten as the colonel ground his teeth in anger and Rodney didn't need a verbal answer.
Sheppard placed both of his fists on the counter and leaned in close to Rodney. "The Ancient healing device. You figured it out yet?"
Rodney swallowed hard. Normally, this was the point where he'd proudly proclaim that he had, even if he wasn't a hundred percent he was right. But, the look on Sheppard's face alarmed even him. There was a hint of desperation intermixed in the anger and frustration he wore so prominently; the expression of a man backed in a corner and desperate. "Well," Rodney stammered, "maybe."
Sheppard arched a humorless brow. "Maybe? How maybe? Maybe I'll go to dinner with a Wraith Friday night, maybe, or maybe I'm the smartest man on Atlantis, maybe?"
"There's no maybe to it," Rodney answered immediately, "I am the smartest man on Atlantis."
"McKay!" Sheppard snapped.
Rodney felt his own irritation rise. "Just," he raised both hands in exasperation, "maybe! I don't know yet."
"Rodney," Sheppard's voice was low and dangerous, "they're taking me off Atlantis in three days. I may not have much going up here," he pointed at his head, "but I do know I… I don't want to, I… I can't leave." His expression softened slightly as pain took the dominant role in his expression. "That healing device is my only chance."
Rodney fidgeted uncomfortably. This was so far out of his realm of comfort that he was almost at a complete loss as to what to say. "There must be something… I mean, even if you're not on Atlantis… you… you're a… a good officer…" even as the words left his mouth, he could feel the hollowness of them. Sheppard wasn't buying it, and, if he was in the colonel's shoes, Rodney knew he wouldn't either.
"I'll get a desk job if I'm lucky," Sheppard replied quietly. "They're not going to trust a man who's got more holes in his memories than a moth eaten sweater, with a field command." He quickly looked away, but not before Rodney caught the hint of vulnerability that flashed across his face. "I… I can't take that." He looked back up, blunt determination once again dominating his expression. "I'm going to try to use that healer, with or without your help."
Rodney's mind raced. He knew Sheppard and was sure the colonel's words were not an empty threat. "Look, don't you think… that is, shouldn't you, I don't know, sleep on this before you do something… rash?"
"No."
"Right," Rodney sighed. "Well, I'm not going to just stand by and let you fry your brain…" he lowered his voice to something just above a mutter, "not if I can help it anyway." He reached behind his laptop and unplugged it from the network. He looked up and right at Sheppard.
The colonel smiled slightly in gratitude. "Thanks, McKay."
"Sure. If you can't trust your Chief Scientist to try to keep you from scrambling your brain, who can you trust?" Rodney quipped darkly as he grabbed his laptop, pad and scanner. "We'll have to take the back way in to avoid Carson."
"Sounds like a plan," Sheppard responded, "I'm overdue to return to the infirmary anyway."
"Oh wonderful," Rodney sighed, "you do realize Carson will send out the cavalry to find you?"
"Yep," Sheppard paused and looked around as the door to the lab opened. "That's why we need to hurry." He looked back at Rodney expectantly. "Back way?"
Rodney nodded. "Right. This way." He quickly started down the hallway, Sheppard right behind him.
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"Elizabeth, this is Carson, come in please."
Elizabeth looked up from her laptop, her gaze narrowing at the note of concern in Carson's voice. She tapped her headset. "This is Weir. What is it, Carson?"
"Have ye seen the Colonel?"
Quiet but insistent alarms went off in the back of her head. "Not recently, no. Is there a problem?"
"Maybe," Carson answered. "He was supposed to come straight back here from Ops. He's not back yet. Do ye know where he went when he left there?"
Elizabeth sighed and stood. "No. I do know he was pretty upset though."
"Upset?" Carson questioned.
"Yes. The IOA…" she sighed, "relieved him of duty."
"Bloody hell!" Carson swore. "Was Ronon with him?"
"No," Elizabeth unconsciously shook her head. "John left alone."
"Damn it," Carson sighed loudly. "Is Ronon still there?"
"No," Elizabeth looked out the window towards Ops. "But if you think it's necessary, I'll start a search for John."
"Aye, it's necessary," Carson answered.
"Understood," Elizabeth walked out of her office towards Ops. "We'll start a search immediately. Weir out." She stopped next to the communications tech and nodded. "Colonel Sheppard is missing and we need to find him. Call Major Lorne to Ops along with McKay." She turned and faced the inactive gate, her thoughts racing as behind her, the technician started his hails.
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Nearly to the infirmary lab, Rodney stopped in his tracks as a hail came across Atlantis' communication system.
"Dr. McKay, please report to Ops immediately."
He exchanged worried glances with Sheppard. "Uh oh." Rodney scratched the back of his neck absently as he searched for an answer. "What do I tell them?"
"Well, don't tell them you're with me," Sheppard answered immediately.
"Oh thank you!" Rodney snapped. "That's so incredibly not helpful!"
"Well I don't know!" Sheppard's voice was equally exasperated. "Just… stall 'em!"
Rodney tapped his headset. "This is McKay. What's going on?" He demanded. He listened to the reply in his headset before tapping it and closing the channel. "They're calling in the troops to look for you."
Sheppard grimaced. "Great. McKay…"
Rodney waved. "I know, I know… stall them." He tapped his radio again. "I'm in the middle of something…" he glanced at Sheppard, throwing the colonel an irritated look, "unusual. I'll be there in a few minutes, McKay out."
"A few minutes?" Sheppard stared incredulously at him.
"Well, I couldn't tell them an hour!" Rodney snapped. "Come on." He walked the rest of the short distance to the infirmary lab before quickly entering it. He waited until Sheppard passed through and the doors closed, before he quickly removed the panel and pulled two crystals from the door controls.
"What are you doing?" Sheppard watched intently.
"Locking it." Rodney answered. He turned an annoyed look on Sheppard. "Just how long do you think it'll take them to put two and two together and know what you're going to try to do?" He stared at Sheppard's frustrated look for a moment. "Never mind," Rodney waved. "Just… trust me, they'll figure it out soon enough." Rodney walked past Sheppard and up to the device's control panel. He connected his laptop and pad, before looking up expectantly at the colonel. "This isn't going to work unless you lie down on the thing."
Sheppard eyed the device for a moment before he sighed deeply. "Right." He slowly sat down on the edge of the platform and looked up at Rodney. "Look, Rodney," his brows furrowed slightly. "Even if this doesn't work… thanks anyway." He smiled slightly.
Rodney stared at him a minute, trying to quell his discomfort. "Right uhh… you're welcome." He waited a moment until Sheppard had laid down on the platform before issuing the command for the lid to slide shut. "God, I hope this works," he muttered.
Cliffie!! Bwahahahaha!!!