Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or its characters…
Author's note: I wasn't sure about posting this yet. I edited it several times (for minor things) but it still doesn't feel right. Something about the way it flows…never mind. I guess we'll see how y'all feel about it…
"I'd like to talk to Rodney and Carson as well," Elizabeth informed Kate, hoping the woman would fulfill the request and she wouldn't have to negotiate a deal.
"We'll see about them paying you a visit later on," the psychologist replied. Elizabeth had never realized how frustratingly passive the woman's tone of voice could be. "But first, let's talk about how you're feeling."
"Maybe you didn't understand me," Elizabeth said, fighting the irritation she was feeling at being patronized. If she held any clout at all still, this would provide the test of it. "I want to talk to Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett right now."
Kate seemed slightly taken aback by the forcefulness with which she was being addressed. She knew that as the leader of Atlantis, Elizabeth was fully capable of displaying a commanding presence, but Kate had rarely witnessed that aspect of the woman before, and had never had it directed upon herself. The Dr. Weir she knew was the kind and gentle leader they all were familiar with. The appearance of this particular version of Elizabeth convinced Kate to the seriousness with which she held her request.
"Okay, Elizabeth," Kate conceded, alarmed by the dire look in the other woman's eyes. This was a woman who if not at the end of her rope, was very near it. "I'll see what I can do."
Dr. Heightmeyer rose from her seat and exited through Elizabeth's guarded door. The movement of the woman's delicate hand to her ear signaled that she was in fact attempting to contact someone; hopefully those Elizabeth had requested an audience with.
"This had better work," she hissed at her invisible companion, who had thankfully remained silent while she had been talking to the shrink.
"It will," John replied confidently from where he had been pacing at the other side of the room, waiting anxiously for Elizabeth to work her persuasive magic. The diplomat had seemed to lose her touch from before he 'died.' He smiled as he thought that it had been his presence which had kept her negotiating skills sharp, and his absence that had caused them to fall into disuse. She gave him a trusting but unsure look. He let his grin fall lopsided a bit. "At least, I think it will work."
She rolled her eyes at him. It was a gesture whose use she had lost since John had left her life. Sure, Rodney required the occasional eye-roll, but he had ceased to make her life as difficult without the presence of his juvenile flyboy friend to compound his adolescent behavior.
"Well, it's the only idea I've got," he continued to excuse his mediocre plan. "Besides you taking out the two guards and breaking into McKay's lab, stealing equipment and managing to elude detection long enough to fix me back right as rain."
She looked severely depressed at the suggested alternative course of action, so he smiled at her again.
Oh god, John. She thought to herself. What am I going to do with you?
---------------------------------------------------
Rodney didn't look pleased at being torn away from work, but he also looked concerned; Elizabeth wasn't sure which frightened her more. If Rodney was to the point of worrying about another human being, that individual was probably pretty badly off.
"Well, Elizabeth," the scientist began. "What's going on?"
She recognized it as one of the more gentle tones that McKay could muster, but it was obviously not satisfactory enough to the other two doctors. They gave him a critical look for supposedly being harsh with the sensitive, mentally disturbed former leader of Atlantis. Elizabeth ignored the reactions of Drs. Beckett and Heightmeyer. Their patronizing sympathetic looks were far more annoying than Rodney being his usual slightly-insulting self.
"I wanted you all here," she began her explanation but found it difficult to continue. Fear that they wouldn't believe her snuck up upon her rather quickly, although she knew it was a possibility when she had agreed with John to give it a try. "Because I think there is a way to prove to you that I am not crazy."
She avoided mentioning John's name at first, worried that it would only serve to shut them down and close their minds to her arguments. Studying their faces didn't reveal anything to the contrary and nothing the least bit reassuring. The likelihood that they might actually consider what she said next was minimal. But she had to go forward, attempt to convince them of the truth.
"Last night, you had a dream about fixing an alien device," Elizabeth told Rodney. The others looked confused over the statement, then turned their attention to the focus of Elizabeth's.
"Oh. I get it," Rodney eventually replied after a moment of perplexed shock laced with a little bit of terror, which always seemed to appear when the man didn't understand what was happening. "You've been practicing mind-reading tricks. Not very convincing, though, Elizabeth. I mean, something a little less predictable than me dreaming about alien technologies would be far more amazing, providing that your goal is to 'wow' the audience. Who exactly are you trying to impress anyway? Is there an Atlantis Variety Show that I haven't heard about? If there isn't, you really should think of more productive-
"Rodney!" Carson scolded. Elizabeth was surprised that they let him berate a supposedly unstable woman like that for as long as they did. Then again, she hadn't really minded it. It was nice to be treated normally again. Dr. Heightmeyer decided it was time to retake control of the conversation.
"What is this supposed to prove to us, Elizabeth?" Kate asked with sincerity and a forced look of understanding attempting to mask her blatant perplexity.
"John is alive," Elizabeth said firmly. She didn't especially care to study their responses. "He visited Rodney's dreams last night. And if you'll listen to me for just a few minutes, he'll explain them to me, and I to you."
The trio of concerned faces didn't budge from their seats across from her, so she decided to continue with the endeavor. She nodded to John who began to recount the story to her, and her to them.
"Of course I dream about Wraith murdering me horribly!" Rodney interjected as Elizabeth related the details of the scientist's dream with amazing accuracy. "If you haven't noticed, we are all about to die at Wraith hands most of the time!"
"Then why was John there?" Elizabeth asked quietly and calmly, contrasting the mercurial scientist's manner. "Why would you dream of him, if he has been dead for months?"
"The question should be 'why wouldn't he be there?' Every time I was about to die a terrifying and painful death, Sheppard was there."
"Calm down, Rodney," Kate tried to soothe the scientist, but without any avail. Instead the worked up man rose to his feet and made to leave the room. She tried again to retain his attention, only a little more harshly. "Rodney!"
He turned to face them before he walked out the door. The look upon his face was no longer one of anger, but one of sadness and frustration. "I can't bear any more of this…"
And with that he was gone. And they all knew what he meant. Elizabeth's perceived condition, his inability to do anything about it, was tearing him up inside. He had already lost one of his closest friends, someone who was practically family to him, without being able to do a single thing about it. And now he was losing another.
"What now, John?" Elizabeth asked. She no longer cared about how she looked talking to what appeared to be nothing in front of the others.
"I wandered around for a little while after I tried Rodney last night," he said. Unsaid was that it was after he had watched her sleep for several hours. "Dr. Heightmeyer was drinking tea. Chamomile, I think. Two sugars, one cream."
Elizabeth sighed. With the luck they were having, it wouldn't work. It probably wouldn't even place the seeds of doubt-or belief, as it were-in the others' minds. But she couldn't give up. She could never give up. If John hadn't conceded defeat in all those months, then she couldn't either, no matter how long it took.
"Last night, John saw you drinking tea, Kate," Elizabeth relayed. "He thinks it was chamomile. Two sugars, one cream."
"Elizabeth," Kate began, the strain of dealing with the disturbed woman finally beginning to show on her face. "You know how I drink my tea. We've had breakfast together many times. You have to let this go."
"Anything else?" Elizabeth asked John. He held up a hand, signaling that he wanted her to give him a minute to think.
"You need to let him go, Elizabeth," Kate continued. "It's not good for you. Isn't that right Dr. Beckett?"
"Pardon?" he said, drawn away from the thoughts he had been lost in for the majority of the conversation. He didn't like seeing Elizabeth like that, and welcomed any thought that would take him away from witnessing it, and especially those that might lead him to an explanation of her behavior, of the coma she had suffered. "Oh, right. Very true, Dr. Heightmeyer. It's already begun to take a physical toll upon you, lass. Or did you forget about the inexplicable coma you just came out of less than a week ago?"
"I saw Beckett working on something in the infirmary," John spoke over the others. Elizabeth had stopped listening to the doctors as soon as she learned that they remained unpersuaded. She nodded her head to tell John to continue. "I'm not sure what it was besides it involved lots of equipment and a microscope…"
"That's not going to be enough, John, but I'll try," she told him. Beckett and Heightmeyer had stopped trying to coax her and stared at her instead as she so easily and unselfconsciously conversed with air. "Carson, he also saw you working on something in the infirmary late last night…something with a microscope. He doesn't know what the other equipment was. But someone came in with a burn…on their hand…a scientist…female."
"That's uncanny, Elizabeth," Carson conceded, but he remained unconvinced. That could have been a number of different nights during any week, including last night. However, maybe there was something to it, but he doubted it was as she insisted. It was more likely that Elizabeth had been exposed to something, something that made her fall into that coma, something that activated some strange sort of latent telepathic abilities. "But it's not proof of anything besides your ability to guess and read people well."
It was his turn to rise to his feet with a look of sadness lining his features. "I've got work to get back to, but I'm sure that Dr. Heightmeyer won't mind talking to you for a little while longer. And I'll check in on you later. Okay?"
Elizabeth didn't respond. She was too upset. If she said anything, it would only serve to exacerbate that situation. And that was something she didn't need. Carson seemed to give up on any response from her and left the room.
So it was down to just Dr. Heightmeyer, herself and the invisible plague on her existence. And oddly enough, she felt like choosing the company of her ethereal friend over all those who were 'living.'
"I don't feel like talking anymore," Elizabeth said, cutting the doctor off before she began her psychobabble again. The blonde woman simply nodded her head. She had had enough of talk as well. She felt like she was getting nowhere with Elizabeth.
"I'll see you later, Dr. Weir," she said before leaving. "Please try to get some rest and please consider what I've said."
"I'd ask you to do the same if I thought it would do any good," Elizabeth responded. Kate frowned and deciding there could be no response, left Elizabeth alone, or so she thought.
-----------------------------------------------
After everyone left, Elizabeth sighed heavily and lay back on her bed. She felt like crying. The whole ordeal had gotten them nowhere further. If anything it had worsened the situation. But she had to stay strong. She couldn't let John see her crack for fear that he would lose hope as well. That didn't mean the urge wasn't there. What were they going to do? What was she going to do?
Elizabeth sat up and perched on the edge of her bed, her back to John, placing her head in her hands. She heard him walk over to her and sit down next to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she answered, lifting her head from her hands. She stared at the wall for a moment, trying to make a decision before she turned to face him. "It's just that…now what do we do?"
They both knew what their only other option was…her only other option, John corrected himself. It would all be on her. It was all on her. But he couldn't let himself think about the advantage he had been taking of her, the horrible burden he had placed upon her. She was his only hope.
"It's your decision," he informed her, hoping that he wasn't pressuring her into anything she didn't feel she could do. She seemed to gaze off into space for a little while longer before she faced him again.
"Okay. What do I have to do?"
A/N: Next time…Elizabeth finally takes action, but will she succeed?