A/N: I own nothing and will put them all neatly back in the appropriate boxes once I'm done, promise.
A speacial thank you to everyone who reviewed, here is the next installment. And don't worry, I wouldn't dare hurt Elizabeth, she is just too awesome! And yes, this is all because you moved, Charlie. If you were here, you'd already know what was going to happen...
Carson looked over the test results for the third time and finally approached the woman leaning on the edge of one of the beds. She was meant to be sitting down but she was so used to being on the move that Carson assumed the stillness was stifling. He didn't smile as he reached her, closing the folder and holding it in front of him.
'I'm so sorry love,' he said, the words soft enough that no one else would hear.
'You're sure?' She looked up at him, the last measures of hope fading from her green eyes. He'd always hated giving bad news, now more than ever.
'Aye love, I'm positive, and at this stage, since we don't know what caused it, I don't know of a cure.' He could almost feel the weight of that knowledge falling on her shoulders and he silently cursed himself. Why did he tell her that? She had enough to deal with already.
'I understand,' she said, her voice hollow, 'is there anything else?'
Carson shook his head. 'Although, I'd strongly suggest you talk to-'
'I'll make an appointment.' She inclined her head slightly, the same way she ended conversations, and a moment later, she was walking out of the infirmary and back to the command centre of the Atlantis base. Carson sighed, the file against his chest. He knew that she wouldn't go and see Kate, she'd make the appointment and something would come up. Although if she did go, she'd give all the right responses and there would be nothing that anyone could do to help her. That had been a complaint he'd heard from the other doctor on and off since they'd arrived, really. It was a well-established fact that any kind of assistance with emotionally or mental issues was hampered by the patient being clever. Weir could manipulate words until they were still telling the truth, but they had no relevance at all. Shaking his head, Carson decided that it was definitely in the best interests of everyone on Atlantis if someone kept and eye on Weir. The real question was who…
On her way back to her office, a change seemed to settle over the leader of Atlantis, although it was a subtle thing at first. It began with the way she stood, her body curling in on itself slightly as though wounded, then her arms crossed defensively, her footfalls shifted from confident to wary. She lowered her head, the strands of dark brown hair falling across her face as she paused. It was only a moment, and there was no one to see that instant of vulnerability before it disappeared and she stood tall again. She walked back to the control room, her strides even and purposeful. Since everyone was busy, no one noticed the change immediately. It was her eyes that gave away the shift. Once they had been easy to read, they now resembled green slate, hard and still. Her normal warmth had been replaced with the sense of sun kissed marble, walls created without doors. And it would only be a fool who thought to tease her into a good humour, or test the limits of her orders. She picked up her data pad and started making notes.