Take Me to Your Leader

A/N:Thanks to PKBitchGirl1 for the suggestion of who should replace Weir. A very logical choice for who should step up into the civilian leader position. Taph leat!

"Well, that could have gone better," Carson comments with a sigh. "But it also could have been worse." He studies my brother's form, tense even deep in drugged sleep. "I think it might be best if he not come 'round till after the surgery. The less stress on his system, the better."

"Agreed." I reply almost without thinking—at this point, I'm so numbed and so filled with remorse for what I have to do to my brother that I'd agree to almost anything Dr. Beckett suggests. The weight around my heart has suddenly grown intolerably heavy, threatening to crush my heart all together. "Maybe being able to eat will help him forget." Will mud wash away blood?

"Aye," Carson sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth, heels to toes, toes to heels, before a crackling earpiece snaps him out of his reverie.

"Aye, Beckett here…What? That's—she didnae even have time tae pack! Ugh, bloody bureaucratic bastards…Aye, aye, we'll be right there." He cuts off the radio and mutters a long string of what I am sure is unrepeatable Scots curses. "They want us in th' gate room. New civilian leader's due in a few minutes."

"What? But, Dr. Weir just received news of her recall," my mind is having difficulty working through this. As if this week needed more complications, a new leader.

Dr. Beckett calls one of his more veteran nurses, Maria, in to watch Gilleasbachan while we're gone—paper work, as it has often been pointed out, can be done anywhere—and throws his hands in the air as we walk, his accent getting thicker as his frustration grows. "Ah ken. But nobody speart me. Seems a reit glaikit hin' tae dae, but whit dae ye expect frae a boorichie ay pudden-headed pencil-pushers?"

I'm usually very good at knowing what he is saying, but it takes me a few seconds to translate his highland slang. I wonder what the new leader will make of his 'dialect'.

The gateroom is packed with civilian and military personnel. There is a general air of discontentment and barely suppressed mutiny in the air. The soldiers are all in dress uniform, and the scientists have done their best to not look like they've been up all night with an experiment.

The stargate begins to dial in and Chuck announces, "Scheduled off-world activation!"

Really, does he have to say that every time? Of course it's an off-world activation! We would notice if someone were dialing from our DHD.

The forming wormhole 'whooshes' dramatically before settling back into the shimmer event horizon.

"Attennnnn-tion!" Sheppard barks out and every military person in the room immediately snaps to attention seconds before a man and a woman I have never seen before step through the event horizon, followed by someone I recognize.

"Grandpa O'Neill!" I almost call out, but manage to subdue it to a kind of quiet whisper. Next to me, Carson smiles and squeezes my shoulder gently. I think sometimes, they miss the little girl that I was.

John steps forward, still at attention. "Dr. Jackson, sir. Welcome to Atlantis," his voice is tightly controlled—I'm sure he was not pleased with Dr. Weir's departure either.

Dr. Jackson was looking around, a look of undisguised wonder on his face before John calls him back to the ground. "What? Oh, yes, yes, thank you. Look, um, you don't have to, um, stand at attention, um, I'm an archaeologist, not a general." He points distractedly over his shoulder. "He's the general, and, uh, he never stood much on ceremony."

"Nope!" O'Neill beams, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking like an excited and mischievous child. "Seriously, colonel, at ease. All of ya! At ease!"

Marines and air force personnel shift to the relaxed at ease position to watch the unfolding drama.

"Hmm. You know, I still think that those Ancients didn't have much of a sense of style," the woman comments as she looks around somewhat disdainfully. "Really, you need a little…softness in a place. Don't get me wrong, crystal's pretty and all, but it's so…cold." She shivers for emphasis.

"Vala," John says with a smirk. "Nice to see you again, too."

She smiles charmingly at him, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. "You too colonel."

Dr. Jackson breaks in again, "Yes, look, I'm sorry we couldn't meet again under more…auspicious circumstances but, uh, I want you to know that I know that I have some very big shoes to fill," His face scrunches as he speaks, almost as quickly as Rodney when he has an idea. "And I know that I can't gain your confidence immediately. But, I, uh, hope that we can at least, um, get along until then."

"Of course, Dr. Jackson," John replies automatically. "Care to dismiss them? They do have work to do."

"What? Oh, yes, yes, of course, by all means. Sorry," he says more loudly to the room at large. "Didn't mean to interrupt you. I mean, I'm gonna be here a while, and diner's probably a better place to get to know you anyway. Um, Dismissed!" he tries to imitate the military style, but doesn't quite have the brusque manner required.

"Daniel," O'Neill sounds like he's lecturing a two-year old. "Head personnel? Maybe you want to meet with them, huh?

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Colonel Sheppard, uh, Dr. McKay, Dr. Beckett?" he turns to address them, since they had conveniently stayed behind. "Meet in the, uh, um," he snaps his fingers, looking for the right word, "conference room? 10 minutes?"

"Sure," Sheppard smiles stiffly. "Ten minutes. You need some help with that luggage?" he gestures at the crates which must have followed them through without my noticing.

Dr. Jackson turns around, as though he just remembered that he had luggage and mumbles, "Oh, yes, that'd be great, thanks."

This is the man they sent to replace Dr. Weir? This absent-minded, bumbling man who can't remember that he brought clothes to a new galaxy?

"Hey, Mary!" O'Neill notices me for the first time and opens his arms for a hug. I can't resist and I run to embrace him. "Hey, when did you get so tall? I'd swear you weren't this tall last time I was here."

I kiss his cheek lightly and laugh. "I grew another inch or so last month. My last growth spurt, we think."

"Well, in that case, let me get a good look atcha," he holds me out at arm's length. "Well, if you ain't the prettiest alien ever taken in by earthlings, I don't know who is," he flatters me. "How ya doin' kid?"

"Good," I reply automatically, but he's not buying it.

"So, how are you really doing?" he asks more seriously. "I hear they found your brother in the hands of a wraith queen."

"I am…" my voice trails off. What I am? Savior, keeper, traitor, torturer, happy, sad, tormented, rejoicing, furious, hurt, healing…

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he seems to understand my distress and pulls me back into the hug as tears begin to overflow my eyes. "S'okay. S'okay, Mary, it'll be okay, you'll see."

"Is it?" I ask bitterly, sobs making my voice harsh and rough. "Do you have any idea what she did to him? What he's been through?"

"No," he admits as he begins to slowly rub soothing circles on my back. "But I know you. Any one's whose related to you can pull through anything. Besides, you'll help him."

I wish I could believe him.

TBC

A/N: 86 reviews! Wow! Thank you all so much. Please keep them coming, and I'll keep the chapters coming. Deal? Especially now, let me know what you think!