Heartbeat by AndromedaMarine

Beauty from Pain

It was almost three in the morning and John was just starting to nod off. He'd spent the whole day by Elizabeth's side, talking to her, telling her how everything was going. His hair was a disheveled mess and he hadn't bothered to groom it. It took only one sound for John to be fully awake. Elizabeth coughed.

Instantly he was completely awake and he held Elizabeth's hand. "Lizbeth?"

The leader coughed again and opened her eyes. Even in the minimal light John could see the green orbs search the room for familiarity. John smiled, grasping the woman's hand tighter, letting her know he was there. Her eyes moved to him and she tried smiling, but she coughed again. Coherent thought must have returned quite quickly, because she breathed, "Colonel?"

John's face fell nominally. "Yeah, it's me." He gripped her hand. "It's John."

She coughed again. "Where am I?" she whispered. She tried moving but her cast and splint dissented. "John, what's going on?"

John felt the woman's hand curl around his as a reflex and the huge knot in the middle of his stomach practically melted away. "You're in the infirmary, Liz. We got you out of Asuras." He reached out to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear but she shied away from him and pulled her hand out of his. "Liz? What's wrong?"

Having just seen an image of Oberoth's hand heading for her forehead she had recoiled, expecting pain and agony. "I...uh, it's nothing. I'm sorry. I'm fine."

"Liz, you don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault they hurt you." He rested his hand on the bed, just barely touching Elizabeth's. "I'm not going to harm you." He implored her green orbs in the dim light. And as she looked into his eyes she remembered every moment, every nanosecond that she wasn't being tortured. She remembered picturing John. "I'm unable to hurt you." He took her hand again and she didn't protest. She simply stared at him, memorizing him.

"I...I heard you. When I was sleeping. I heard you." Her voice was merely a whisper.

Instantly the colonel knew what she was talking about. His insides froze and caught on fire at the same moment. Suddenly he found himself looking for an escape, something he wouldn't have done had Elizabeth not brought it up. He became intently interested in her blanket.

"Did you mean it?" she breathed, still struggling to speak normally.

John realized his head was nodding – something his body hadn't commanded it to do – it was disobeying orders – and confirming Elizabeth's hope. "Yes."

Elizabeth relaxed and closed her eyes, gripping John's hand in return. But she couldn't say it back to him, not yet. She had to get her metaphorical ducks in a row. And there were a lot of ducks. The woman fell back asleep with a smile on her face, her hand entwined in John's.

--

John woke at seven and feared that he'd dreamt Elizabeth's awakening. But when he looked up and saw green eyes staring back into his he knew it was real. Dr. Keller was attending to the leader on the other side of the bed, giving disapproving glances in John's direction every few moments. "When did you wake up?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with his free hand (the other was still in a death grip by Elizabeth).

"An hour ago," Jennifer answered for Elizabeth. "And I'm disappointed you didn't wake me last night when she woke the first time."

John cleared his throat. "It was only for a few moments and I didn't want to leave her – or bother you."

Elizabeth smiled, her white teeth flashing. However, she grimaced when her arm twinged painfully. She looked down and saw Jennifer drawing blood with a needle that looked like it could kill an elephant, or whatever counterpart this galaxy housed. "Doctor?"

Jennifer smiled. "We're just double and triple-checking. The first screening said you don't have any nanites left in your body – but I want to make sure they're not hiding anywhere dangerous."

"Oberoth removed them."

"Why?" John asked, his expression concerned and curious.

Elizabeth rested before she answered. "He didn't want them healing me. I remember when he took them out – it was painful." She spoke in a whisper, her voice barely carrying to Jennifer's ears. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, revealing her pain and suffering. Boldly John wiped them away, getting a raised eyebrow from Jennifer and a mouthed 'thank you' from Elizabeth. Right then John decided that vulnerability didn't suit his leader. Then he realized vulnerability didn't suit any leader, so he decided that it didn't suit Elizabeth, for there was a distinct difference between the two. Elizabeth had a life. Leadership didn't.

Jennifer left with the phial of blood and allowed John and Elizabeth a quiet moment together.

"Why did you want us to leave you on Asuras?"

Elizabeth's eyes threatened to unleash more tears. "I wanted your team to live. I wanted Atlantis to safely return to a planet." It pained John to see Elizabeth struggle for the right words. Her next words were on a whisper of a breath, a sound so quiet John's ears strained to hear. "Because if you'd died I would have too."

John's mind conjured up the memory of what he saw as he left her. And just as he was about to leave her he saw it: a faint glimmer in her eyes, the one thing his subconscious needed to complete the circle. It was showing in her expression, in her tears, but in her eyes it was the strongest. The green irises and the deep black that was a doorway to her soul told John all he needed to know. It was at that moment their heartbeats synchronized, each running off the other, drawing energy and strength from the souls within. He had seen her heartbeat, her pain, her utter realization of what she had told him to do, and he had seen her love.

John didn't need Elizabeth to say it for him to know it was there. When she was ready, she would tell him. But now she needed to recover. Now, he needed to be close to her, help her through it. The one thing they needed was each other.

Beauty, as sometimes defined in a dictionary, is a quality or feature that is most effective, gratifying, or telling. Elizabeth's hardship, her pain, suffering, and near loss-of-life became her defining quality. Her pain became her beauty.