Facing the Operative Word by AndromedaMarine
Coming to Terms with Reality
Elizabeth Weir was jostled awake by a rather disgruntled Carson Beckett. She'd fallen asleep at John's infirmary bed, her hand entwined in his. "I told ye to get some rest of your own. He'll be here in the morning, don't ye worry about that. I must insist." The doctor helped Elizabeth get her bearings as she stood. "I'll keep an eye on him for ye. If anything happens ye'll be the first to know, I promise. Get some sleep and real rest, lass." He escorted Elizabeth to the door of the infirmary and watched until she was out of sight. The doctor sighed. "I swear to Alastir she'll run herself into the ground over him."
Elizabeth was groggy; but it was almost one in the morning. She'd sleep in, she decided, but immediately revoked it because she would spend her day with John. It didn't matter what Carson said – Elizabeth would stay with John. She stumbled into their quarters and suddenly she felt too alone. There was no John sitting at the table working on a mission report, no John there to welcome her with a smile and a heart-melting kiss, no John to keep her warm at night. No, her John was in a coma he might not survive. This was reality. And it hit her like a ton of bricks.
She made a mess on the floor around the table as she shoved piles of paper and miscellaneous things off. "Where is it?" she kept muttering, until she found what she was looking for. John had ordered it from earth maybe a month ago – and had used it every day since. She knew because she'd almost walked in a couple of times but stopped just to hear it.
The woman slipped under the covers of their bed and held it against her ear. The pressed the button and the small tape-recorder issued the melodious voice of John Sheppard. He sang a'cappella the songs he'd written himself. Love songs, they were, by the strange happening of John's ever-creative muse. And they were beautiful.
How can I tell you that I love you?
How can I tell you how I feel?
How can I show you what I'd do for you?
How can I be the one you love?
--
I've been across the universe and back,
But I'll never understand how this works.
Love is something everyone feels
I'm wondering now if love can hurt.
--
If I'm gone and I can't hear you
I'm sorry for whatever caused it
But you should know for every reason
That I love you and I'll never quit.
--
So here I am, I'm waiting for you
And I'm telling the whole world I love you
Sometimes those words are overrated,
But oh, clichés can be so true.
--
My actions tell you that I love you
My touch will tell you how I feel
My record shows what I would do for you
But I can't answer – How can I be the one you love?
--
Only you can answer that
But I know one thing:
I'll always love you, 'Lizabeth.
The song ended – the beautiful song – and tears were streaming onto the pillow. She'd migrated over to John's side of the bed. The worry once again took up residence in the reserved corner of her brain with a new emotion. Realization. The song John had written and sung was a revelation that showed Elizabeth the reality of the situation. If I'm gone and I can't hear you / I'm sorry for whatever caused it / But you should know for every reason / That I love you and I'll never quit. John certainly couldn't hear her. Perhaps he'd meant for Elizabeth to eventually find the tape recorder.
Elizabeth Weir cried the entire night, finally falling asleep at five-thirty in the morning. She had come to terms with reality.