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Part 11/24

-Chapter 11-

Fragile Understandings

Long past midnight, John stood on the pier Daedalus used as a landing site, now dark and vacant. His hands in his pockets, he gazed up at the incredible vista of Atlantis's spires and towers, soaring in undamaged splendor against the brilliantly starred sky. Some people, he knew—like the higher ups back on Earth—would damn him for what he was attempting. But this was the way it should be, the way, he vowed, it would be—no matter what it took.

His whole body ached with tiredness. He reentered the city, intending to make himself finally get some sleep. But when he stepped into a transporter, his hand automatically went to the destination control he'd touched so often over the past three-plus years. A heartbeat later, he stepped out into the hallway leading to the control room. Elizabeth's office, just off the other side of it, pulled his reluctant footsteps in its direction.

The few techs running night ops nodded to him as he passed. John imagined he could hear them thinking, Wonder which one he is? Halfway across, he was able to see Elizabeth sitting at her desk with her laptop open in front of her. She didn't seem to be doing anything but staring at it, though.

This is probably a really bad idea, John told himself as he paused outside her office door. Memory suddenly washed over him; so many of his days in Atlantis had ended right here as he and Elizabeth recapped their days. It had become almost a ritual; and for John, no day ever felt really complete without it.

Just as he decided to retreat the way he'd come, something broke her reverie. She looked up and saw him.

"Colonel Sheppard," she said, with that little sideways tip of the head he'd thought he'd never see again. "Please, come in."

John approached her desk almost warily. "So, 'Colonel Sheppard' is it? How'd you know it was me? I haven't found a different jacket yet."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, studying him through slightly narrowed eyes. John got the uncomfortable feeling that she was seeing right past his flippancy. "I suppose," she said slowly, "the extra three months you've lived through have marked you. There's definitely a sadness about you. . ." She slid a glance towards the glass wall separating her office from the control room. After the very briefest hesitation, she stood and came around her desk. "Come, walk with me."

John stepped aside to let her precede him. Okay, so this was absolutely a really bad idea! Nevertheless, he fell into step with her, keeping a determined silence as she led the way to the staircase leading down from the control room to the Gate level. At the bottom she turned left, entering a corridor whose lights were dimmed to night-time levels.

Eventually, Elizabeth spoke. "This has been very difficult for me to accept. Please believe me when I say I know you did not come to your decision lightly. Having said that," she paused her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown, "and meaning no offense, I still can't shake the feeling you're hiding something from me." She slanted a look up at him as they turned a corner. John put on his best deeply hurt "Who, me?" expression. She shook her head slightly and said, "Tell me again why you came back in time."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Like I told you in the briefing: the Wraith pounded Atlantis into rubble and killed nearly a third of the expedition." John was deliberately, brutally blunt. "McKay gave us a chance to keep it from ever happening, so we grabbed it." He put all the finality he could into his tone.

Elizabeth stopped and turned to face him fully, her green eyes intensely probing. She was so close. All he had to do was take one step and raise his arms for her to be within their circle. Just one step--John swallowed hard, his resolve beginning to shred.

"Please, John," Elizabeth said softly. She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "You're carrying some other burden, a terrible burden, and I can see how it has worn—is wearing—you down. If you would just share it with me, perhaps I could help."

"Elizabeth, don't." He closed his eyes, forcing back the burning in his throat and behind his eyes. The words choked out of him. "I can't--" An image in his mind, Elizabeth lying dead in his arms-- Unconsciously, he clenched his fists. "I can't, I can't."

She was so close he could feel the warmth of her. He opened his eyes. Elizabeth was peering up at him, and the look of concern on her face pierced the last of his defenses. He knew his heart was in his eyes when he raised a shaking hand to brush her cheek ever so lightly.

"You're the burden I carry," he whispered. "Guilt over not being there to save you, guilt for never having the courage to tell you I love you. If Atlantis had survived intact, and you had been the only casualty, I still would have come back, Elizabeth—just to save you."

The instant after he'd spoken, John wished he'd found the strength to hold the words back as he saw something very like panic flare across Elizabeth's face. She took two quick steps back from him, holding up her hands as if to hold him off, even though he was making himself stand rock still.

Footsteps sounded in the intersecting hall behind him. John knew those footsteps: they were his own. Uh-oh. He glanced over his shoulder as Sheppard rounded the corner into view and came to an abrupt halt. In the split second his attention was diverted, Elizabeth bolted. He jerked back around to see her run down the corridor and vanish around a curve.

"What the--" Sheppard closed the distance between them, not running but with a rush, his gaze focused down the hall.

John stuck out an arm to bar him from going any farther. "No use following her," he said. "There's a transporter just beyond the curve."

"I know that." Sheppard pinned him with an angry glare. "So what was going on here? Why'd Elizabeth run away like that?"

John knew he had a quirky sense of responsibility; he didn't shirk it now. He met the other man's eyes without flinching and said simply, "I told her the truth."

Hazel eyes strove with hazel. Sheppard's expression altered subtly. "Oh, crap," he breathed. "You didn't—tell me you didn't-- You told her that?" The anger started building back.

John decided it was time for some more brutal bluntness. "Yeah, I told her; and you want to know why? Because for the last four months of my life I've had to live with the consequences of the bad choices you're still making. The irreverent flyboy pose, the whole Captain Kirk thing—lies to keep you from admitting to Elizabeth or yourself how much you love her."

Sheppard looked ready to deck him. "Well, thank you so much for coming back to straighten that out for me. I'm sure Elizabeth thanks you, too."

John's shoulders slumped tiredly. He suddenly felt four decades instead of four months older than this earlier self. "Let's just lose the sarcasm for a minute, can we? All I'm saying is I wish someone had knocked me out of my comfort zone before it was too late and I'd lost my Elizabeth forever. I came back to give you a chance for the life you should have with yours."

Some of the anger left Sheppard's face, but he still looked plenty ticked. "You had no right--" he started to say, before closing his mouth hard against the words. He all at once looked confused.

John nodded. "I see you're finally getting it: you're arguing with yourself. So listen to yourself, and don't keep making the same mistakes you've made in the past. I'm telling you, the tough loner image isn't worth the price you pay to keep it. I blew my chance. Don't blow yours."

He turned and walked away, leaving a very disturbed looking Sheppard standing and staring after him.

To Be Continued. . .