AU tag for The Return, part 1
Spoilers: Season 3 – Progeny and The Return, part 1
Warnings: character death
Body is something you need…you only get one.
And no matter which one you get, it will not
be satisfactory. It will not be beautiful
enough, it will not be fast enough, it will
not keep on for days at a time, but will
pull you down
-- excerpt from Living in the Body, by Joyce Sutphen
Elizabeth sits in her office in Atlantis, trying to ignore the distant throbbing pain of her face. Carson has assured her that once the wounds have healed, a skilled plastic surgeon should be able to make the inevitable scarring, at the very least, less noticeable.
She doesn't give a damn about her looks right now, and Carson knows that. Later, perhaps, she'll begin to care again about such niceties.
At the moment, other concerns are far more pressing.
Victory has come at such a high cost, she has to wonder whether it was worth it. It seemed like it when they were sitting in the Puddle Jumper, about to gate back to Atlantis. They'd all experienced pain and loss before, and were well aware of the risks they were taking…but now she thinks that perhaps they should have been content with what they had.
At some point in the next few hours, she'll have to contact Earth. She'll have to put the events of the last day into words, and she isn't sure she's capable of that. In fact, she really isn't certain what, if anything, she is capable of right now. But the report will have to be made, and maybe if she writes it now, she'll be able to tell Landry without breaking down.
Richard Woolsey is physically undamaged, but mentally and emotionally traumatized. From his semi-coherent babblings, they've figured out that the Asurans picked his brain clean of information. The procedure was swift and ruthless, and done with little concern for the sanity or health of the victim.
Jack O'Neill is missing. They've found no body, no evidence that he escaped or died…or anything. It's almost as if he never existed at all, except that Elizabeth keeps thinking she sees him out of the corner of her eye.
Ronon Dex didn't survive the fight with the Pegasus replicators. He died trying to defend Elizabeth, and while she'll always remember him with gratitude, the memories are tainted with horror. The best special effects can't convey the sheer awfulness of seeing a living human body torn apart, and she knows the sight will haunt every moment of the rest of her life.
Carson Beckett and Teyla Emmagan, miraculously, are unharmed apart from a few scrapes and bruises. There's a certain amount of comfort to be had from that. Elizabeth knows that she'll need Teyla's quiet strength and ability to endure in the aftermath of the reclaiming of Atlantis. The thought of someone deliberately hurting the gentle, caring physician is almost incomprehensible, and would be more than she could bear. Carson has his own strengths, and they'll be equally necessary in the days to come.
John Sheppard is lying in the infirmary, drugged into oblivion. His right hand is gone, crushed so badly that Carson had no choice but to amputate it. Elizabeth hopes she'll be able to convince him to stay on as a civilian consultant, and hopes that the Puddle Jumpers can be flown one-handed. She knows, though, that whatever he decides to do, the John Sheppard she knew is gone forever, lost in the effort to protect Rodney.
Because Rodney McKay is dead.
The realization that the Asurans had linked themselves into the Atlantis database had led Rodney to the idea of downloading a virus into the system. A frantic rewrite of the program he and Zelenka had developed to wipe the database itself if they were forced to abandon Atlantis to enemies yielded a way to attack the replicators while leaving the Ancient computers intact. It worked perfectly, but not before Rodney was infected by replicator nanites. They swarmed through his body with lightning speed and stopped his heart, killing the savior of Atlantis even as the Asurans dissolved into their component parts.
Fighting back tears, Elizabeth lurches out of her office, unable to stay in any one place for long without memories crashing in: this is where Rodney stood between her and Kolya's gun; this is where Ronon grinned at her before stepping through the Stargate; where O'Neill leaned on the railing overlooking the Gate and told her how lucky she was to live in such a beautiful place; where Sheppard wished her a happy birthday when she thought no one in Atlantis even knew when her birthday was.
She winds up back in the infirmary at John's bedside, staring at his face. The lines of weariness and pain are deeply engraved there now, making him look far older than his age. This time, those lines won't fade away like they've done in the past. She's already seen those same lines on her own face, catching sight of her reflection in a window.
It's harder to hold back the tears here, but easier to allow them to come, and Elizabeth buries her face in the edge of the blanket covering John, finally giving in to the choking sobs that have been trying to tear their way out of her for hours. That kind of crying is too strong to last for long, especially when she's already exhausted, and after a few minutes, she's gone past grief into a calmness that will allow her to go back to work without her emotions distracting her.
She wipes her eyes with the blanket and sits up. Glancing at John to make sure she hasn't disturbed him, she's hit with an almost overwhelming sense of familiarity. She has sat at John Sheppard's bedside before – except this is the only time she's ever done so alone. Every other time, some member of John's team has been here: Aiden, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney.
If she closes her eyes, Elizabeth can pretend that Rodney is sitting in the corner, about to make some smart remark.
"Well, I suppose this means I'll have to start calling him Luke Skywalker instead of Captain Kirk."
Elizabeth laughs a little before realizing who the voice belongs to. She jumps up out of the uncomfortable infirmary chair and spins around.
Rodney McKay is standing just a few feet away, large as life and smirking at her as if everything is fine. "Surprise!" he says.
"Rodney – how – you were –"
"Dead? Deceased? Shuffled off this mortal coil? Pushing up the daisies? Snuffed it? Yes, I was. But now I'm not. I'm all better, and Elizabeth…I can make everything better." He moves toward the bed and grasps John's heavily bandaged wrist. Before her eyes, the stump of John's hand twitches, elongates, flesh poking through the white gauze and slowly forming a whole, perfect hand. The sight is both breathtaking and nauseating.
Rodney's grin is triumphant. "See? I finally found the perfect solution, Elizabeth. We never have to worry about being sucked by the Wraith again. We don't have to worry about getting hurt, or being too tired, or about getting supplies from Earth. Who knows? This might even solve the problem with the Ori back in the Milky Way."
"Rodney…" It's hard for her to breathe past the revulsion climbing up her throat. "Rodney, what is this? What have you done?"
He reaches for her hand and she backs away slowly. "It's wonderful, Elizabeth. See?" He holds out his hand to her, and she watches with horrified fascination as it melts into a shapeless lump, then reforms. "You thought the nanites killed me, but somehow I managed to take control of them. And I know how to convert all of our people into replicators. We'll be practically invulnerable. We can…"
The look of utter horror and despair on her face makes him stumble to a halt.
"Elizabeth? It's still me, I'm still Rodney – there's nothing to worry about. I promise, I haven't changed – I'm still fundamentally me." He steps toward her, and she stumbles back, shaking her head wordlessly.
Behind him, John opens his eyes and sits up, gazing directly at Elizabeth, his eyes clear and sane and focused.
"He's right, Elizabeth," John tells her, his voice kind and reasonable. "This is the answer to all our problems. All you have to do is take Rodney's hand..."
fin