A/N: Yep, I knew this was coming sooner or later. For those who didn't read Factus Humana, you're going to want to skip this one. This a songfic set after that story.

This is from a song that has haunted me for years, and sometime still does, today. It hits home pretty hard for anyone who's ever lost a friend or loved one. So, of course, it's great source material for me. It's called "Breathe" by Seven Channels, if you wanted to hear it before you read.

Enjoy!


It's been so long since you've gone away

And I know things will never be the same

I break it all down so it will show to me clear

But all the while I'm wishing you were here

.

As Colonel Sheppard finished writing his final report on a mission that claimed two lives, he sat back in his chair leaning as far away from his laptop monitor as he could get. Over and over he read those clean, neat lines of straightforward text. And he just wanted to put his fist through the screen. Line by line he laid out the events, and they didn't do the reality justice.

They don't do her justice, he confessed to himself.

Nothing he wrote could possibly capture Alex. She had been special. And, now that she was gone, he felt the hole in his life. Half of him cursed her for ever having come into his life. The other half hated himself for hating her for dying. But, above all, he just wished she was there. He'd been through this before. Probably too many time before in his Air Force career. Yet, he still wondered when it would be that he would finally stop looking around the mess hall for her, expecting to see her in a sparring room, seeing her ghost march off happily with Major Lorne through the gate. God he missed her.

~o~o~o~

Watching the sparring partners pairing up, Major Lorne wondered why he had never really sparred with Alex in these classes. He'd had no problem sparring with her any other time. This being the first time back in a martial arts class since her death, it just didn't feel the same anymore. Apparently others could see something in his demeanor or body language, because they glanced at him, and then chose other partners. Across the room Instructor Glover caught his eye and cocked a questioning eyebrow.

Evan shook his head and exited the class.

Meandering through the corridors in the general direction of his quarters, he again rationalized. He'd dealt with death before. His father, his teammates, his friends…but Alex had been different. Maybe it was because she'd actually been inside his head during their telepathic link. But nothing he said to himself or thought through really made the fact that she was dead any easier. All these months later and he still held on to the wish that she was there with him, right now.

~o~o~o~

Having officially left his grief behind, Doctor Beckett was consumed by his work. Months had come and gone and he'd hardly noticed. He'd gone back to the female retrovirus and the exabytes of data he'd acquired. Bit by bit he analyzed every moment of her change. Somewhere deep inside he secretly hoped that thinking of her as nothing more than a test subject would ease the pain.

It didn't.

Everything had more or less gone back to the way it was before she'd come into his life. And yet nothing was the same anymore. He couldn't even think her name anymore without it hurting.

Heaving a sigh, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as if to stave off the tears that he no longer had the strength to cry. He'd convinced himself in all the ways that matter to the outside world, that he was back to being himself again. But nothing he did, or thought, or felt could erase just how much he wished she would be waiting for him in their quarters.


In my dreams I can see and feel your face

But next to me sits an empty space

Sometimes this life doesn't make any sense to me

I need some time to heal and some space to breathe

.

Carson dreamt. He always dreamt of her. He couldn't remember a single dream he'd had before her, but these he always remembered. Times like this he woke up still feeling her warm skin in his hands from where he'd cupped her face; only to have her disappear as their lips met.

For a while he just lay there in the dark. He wanted to believe she was there. He wanted more than anything to roll over and feel her there beside him. But she never was. And this time was no different. Feeling his world turned inside out, Carson rolled back over and buried his face in his pillow.

Would this wound ever heal?

~o~o~o~

Sheppard had never been a morning person. He usually left that to his far more amicable XO. But today seemed to be an exception. Five thirty in the morning and John found himself running. He ran the halls, the walkways, the piers, the stairs, anywhere he could. He wasn't sure anymore what he was running from or to, but he just kept running.

After waking from a dream with Alex's wide, staring, dead eyes, he gave up on sleep. Nightmares usually weren't much of a problem with him. Even this one had been out of the ordinary. But the disorientation he'd felt when he woke making him feel like he was back on that hive ship had been too much. Throwing on some clothes and running shoes, he'd vacated his room.

For a few minutes it had even felt like she was running beside him again. And then he had to remember that Alex would never run with him again. As his blood started pumping oxygen to his brain to clear the cobwebs of sleep, he tried to sort through it all. Sometimes running was the only time he could make sense of this mess.

~o~o~o~

Evan woke with a start. Across the low-burning campfire, he could see her. She sat there smiling as if waiting for him to wake up.

"Morning, sunshine," Alex said with her usual impish grin.

"Alex?" he asked, struggling out of his bedroll.

"Who else would I be?" she asked pointing to her long, white hair. "With this hair you'd think you wouldn't be able to mistake me for anyone else."

"Alex…" squatting down beside her he reached out hesitantly. The moment his fingers touched her cheek, she disappeared.

Evan woke again; this time for real. The campfire he'd banked before rolling over had burned down to embers. Looking around, he confirmed he was alone. He was starting to feel like he was going insane. He had thought getting away from Atlantis for a couple of days camping on the mainland would help.

Obviously he'd been wrong.


I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Waking for the third, and final time that morning, Evan finally gave up on sleep. In the two days since his venture to the mainland, he'd been disappointed to learn nothing had changed. Too tired and depressed to even care about a cup of coffee or his usual morning run, he headed to the balcony where he and Alex had last talked. Leaning on the railing waiting for the sun to rise, he took a few deep breaths. Sometimes it helped to come here. Sometimes it was as if he could still feel her here.

For the first time in weeks, he smiled remembering how she'd tickled him by accident. And then intentionally.

Feeling minutely better, he turned his attention toward coffee and making himself presentable before Sheppard caught him and threw him back in Doctor Heightmeyer's office.


As I lay on the floor and I wonder why

The question lingers, Why did you die?

I thank God for you and the memories

But I still wish you were here with me

.

"Well, then. Do I need to guess, or is it the usual?" Rodney asked staring down at Sheppard laid out on the far end of the Northwest Pier.

"What do you want, Rodney?" Sheppard asked, still hugging his bottle of bourbon.

"Just wondering why the city sensors say there's someone out here getting shitfaced all alone."

"Ha!" John laughed. "Shitfaced…you said…shitfaced."

Yep, Sheppard was trashed. No, this wasn't the first time he'd seen his friend in this sorry condition. But usually there was an obvious reason. Typically the death of someone close to him. That was the usual Sheppard style grieving. Make sure no one knew where he was. Get trashed. Then get on with life.

This time, though, Rodney couldn't think of anything recent. He could only guess it was Alex again. Suddenly he wanted very much to hate that woman all over again. Instead, he heaved a sigh, and sat down beside Sheppard who was laid out staring up at the stars. For a while they just sat in the quiet. Rodney knew if John wanted to talk, he would. And if he didn't, no amount of participation on his part would change that.

"She loved the sky, y'know? Kinda stupid, really. What's up there? A bunch of nothing. Nothing," John slurred only slightly.

Rodney chuckled. "Then what's your excuse, flyboy?"

"That's easy. Speed. Height. But mostly speed."

"Why is that?" Rodney asked, not really interested, but willing to wait it out.

"Everything is too fast. Once you've flown at Mach Two in a Raptor, it seems to slow down. Life slows down. It's more…I don't know. Slow."

"Such profound wisdom you speak, your drunkenness."

"Why thank you, Rodney. Now why don't you take your asshole attitude and…and go back. Leave me alone."

"Because you may be one hell of a pilot, Sheppard, but you're a really lousy walker when you're toasted."

John just grunted and went back to his inspection of the stars for a while. After a while, Rodney started to suspect the man had fallen asleep. No such luck.

"You know, you had the right idea. Hate her. Hate Alex. It's so much easier when you hate someone."

"Oh please," McKay said, rolling his eyes. "You loved her. You said it yourself. She was the little sister you never wanted."

"Then thousand year old little sister," John slurred with a laugh.

"My point, exactly. You couldn't hate her any more than you could hate me right about now."

"Oh, I could."

"Right. And if flipping a mental switch from love to hate is so easy, then why are you out here?"

"Because I need…I need to remember," he said almost too softly to hear.

"Remember what?" Rodney asked incredulously. "You do realize that usually people drink themselves to oblivion to forget, right?"

John shook his head several times in denial. "No, I need to remember what it was like when she was happy."

"What?" Rodney asked, incredulous.

Heaving himself upright with a groan, John pushed the bottle toward his friend and away from himself. Sitting with his legs crossed and hunched over as if afraid he'd fall backward, he shook his head again squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Sometimes all I can remember is her screaming." Suddenly he didn't sound nearly so drunk to McKay. "She screamed when they used the cattle prod on her in the prison. She screamed when she was undergoing the conversion. She screamed when she went up against Holmes. She screamed when she was put in the tank after being burned. She screamed when she was turning back into a Wraith." Sheppard dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God, sometimes I just want to remember her happy."

Rodney felt sick. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. Shaking his head, he took off his radio and opened the bottle. This was going to be a long night. But he knew his friend needed it.

"So tell me. What was she like when she was happy?"

"What do you care? You hated her."

"I never said I was a saint. And, yes, I did. For all the wrong reasons. But that's my issue, not yours. So, what was she like, John?"

Sheppard was quiet for so long, McKay was starting to feel like maybe he'd pushed too far too fast.

"She had the craziest questions sometimes. One time when Evan was…"

~o~o~o~

Feeling the aches in his neck and back, Carson groaned.

Damn that hurts. When will I ever learn? he wondered.

He'd fallen asleep on The Balcony. Sometimes he thought of it as Her Balcony. It had been her favorite after she'd moved in with him. He hadn't come here it as often as he had in the past. But whenever he wanted to avoid his own bed, he would come out here. Sometimes he even fell asleep. And he always regretted it the next day.

Staring up at the pre-dawn sky, he knew he was going to be feeling this for a couple of days.

But it had been one of those nights. Having left his lab later at night than he should have, he found himself wandering the halls again. Inevitably that led to him avoiding his own quarters he'd shared with her. Which, of course, left him wondering yet again why she had died. It was one hell of a messed up universe they lived in that she would live ten thousand years in a form she despised, hundreds of years underground as a prisoner on the edge of starvation, survived the impossible conversion from Wraith to human, only to die so suddenly and—in his mind—unfairly after being human and happy for so short a time.

Not a day went by that he didn't think of her. She still found a way into his every waking, and often sleeping moments. So many memories…and not nearly enough. Staring up at the sky he both cursed and thanked God for all of it. Because, even had he known what was to come, he could not have helped loving her as he had. Her innocence had lured him in. Her strength had captivated him.

And he would give anything to have that back, right now.

~o~o~o~

His chest heaving, Evan flopped onto the mats.

He'd spent the last few hours beating the practice dummies until his hands and feet, and many other places, were numb. He knew he would pay for it later, but he just didn't give a damn right now. He'd come full circle. After half a night spent tossing and turning, he'd given up on sleep. He knew he was going to suffer later, since he had a full day ahead of him, but it just didn't seem to matter right now.

Something had triggered his memories. For the life of him, he couldn't think of what. One minute he'd been dozing off and the next he'd heard Alex laughing. Following that was a memory of the first time Krissy had had the bright idea of dying Alex's hair. The initial results had been nothing short of comical, but Alex had loved it. For whatever strange reason, the auburn red hair dye had come out carrot orange. Though everyone else laughed, Alex thought anything—literally anything—other than white was an improvement. Thankfully, it had washed out after a few days.

After giving up on sleep, he'd spent most of the night beating dummies, practicing forms, and just exploring those memories. He was tired of running. He was tired of hiding. And he was tired of having to put those memories away where they wouldn't hurt so damn much.

Laying there trying to slow his racing heart and heaving breaths, he couldn't help but wonder all over again. Why couldn't it have been him? Why hadn't she fed on him? Why didn't she try to save herself?

Closing his eyes, he groaned. It didn't matter anymore. It was done. She was gone. All that mattered now is how much he wanted her back.


I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

It was time.

He'd put this off way longer than he ever should have. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Still feeling the throbbing headache of his hangover, Sheppard found himself standing in Alex's old quarters. It seemed like no one even remembered she had once stayed in these rooms. But he hadn't forgotten. He still very clearly remembered the first time he'd seen the wall to wall photographs of the sky. The north wall was the night sky. The west wall was for sunsets. The south wall was daytime skies, cloudy and clear. The east wall was for sunrises. Hundreds of them stared back at him.

He should have taken them down months ago.

Even her old laptop was still sitting on the table as if waiting for her to come back. John wasn't even sure why he'd volunteered to do this. Maybe it was because Carson was still dealing with all her stuff in his quarters. Maybe because Evan had had a hard enough time working through his grief that he didn't need this. Maybe it was because he needed this for himself.

Whatever the reason, now that John stood there with a couple of boxes in hand, he almost didn't have the heart to do it. It was as if she was still there. As long as those pictures stood on those walls, a part of Alex still lived in Atlantis. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he started the packing.

He packed up everything but the pictures. Those he left on the walls, and then he locked the room.


Gone away and I pray for the strength to

Strength to carry on

As I am breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I still feel you though you're gone

.

"What did you do to yourself now, Major?" Carson asked seeing the man limping into the infirmary, bleeding from his left leg.

"Nice to see you too, Doc," Lorne grumbled, his foul mood all over his face. "I fell."

"Uh huh," Carson said. "I thought you were off world for the next few days."

"I was," Lorne replied, grunting as he hopped up onto a gurney. "Bad day."

"I see that."

Instead of putting on gloves, Carson shoved his hands in his pockets. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes Lorne hadn't seen in quite some time. It was almost worth the sutures just to see that look again.

"Doc?" he asked warily.

"Well, I'm sorry, son. I'm going to have to pass you off on Doctor Knightley."

"Excuse me?" Lorne asked, feeling his face flushing already.

"I'm meeting with Doctor Weir in a few minutes. Not to worry, Rebecca's quite good with sutures. A very deft hand, I hear."

He knows, Lorne thought with a sinking heart as pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. "If you say so, Doc. Have fun at your meeting."

Carson grinned one more time before walking away. Before he even had a chance to get out of sight, Doctor Knightley nearly collided with him carrying a tray of equipment. With a far more serious look than he had given Lorne, he told the doctor about her patient. Lorne watched from where he sat on the gurney not sure if he wanted to strangle the man or thank him. Guess he would just have to play it cool and hope he didn't make a total fool of himself in front of her.

"Hiya, Doc," Lorne greeted, trying for chipper and just hoping his racing heart didn't show.

"Good evening, Major," she returned with a rather severe look, not helped in the least by her hair being up in a French braid instead of something more casual. "Doctor Beckett tells me you were showing off for your new team and had an accident."

"He what?!"

Doctor Knightley chuckled as she broke into a grin. "Just kidding. Well at least you weren't up to something stupid, like half the people in this city."

Lorne chuckled at that. "Define 'stupid', Doc. There's a lot of room for interpretation there."

"Call me Rebecca," she told him with her back to him as she washed her her hands. "And 'stupid' can actually mean a lot of things. I reserve that judgment for my own interpretation of events."

"Well, in that case, I would hope you don't classify a clumsy slide down a rocky hill to be 'stupid'."

Pulling on a pair of gloves, she turned back toward him, "Not at all. You're safe, Major."

"Evan," he said, suddenly remembering that he hadn't extended the same courtesy to her and just barely managing to control his flush enough that his ears didn't glow.

For a moment, he could have sworn her cheeks were a bit redder than he remembered. But, then again, he knew he was crushing and was probably seeing what he wanted to see. Ever since Alex had told him she caught him staring, he'd gone out of his way to avoid the infirmary and her. Thanks to Carson, he wasn't going to get out of this one. Now if only his heart would slow down. Praying he didn't make a fool of himself, he smiled as she sat down and inspected his leg.

"I don't typically find deep lacerations needing sutures a reason to smile, Evan," she said told him, never having moved her eyes from his wound.

Now he was certain his face was red. "I suppose falling down a rocky hill just to get a date would be classified as 'stupid', right?" he very nearly did a face palm when he realized what he'd said. Yep, I'm an idiot. And I don't even have drugs as an excuse.

Rebecca blinked. It seemed to take her a moment to process exactly what had just happened. "Was that an invitation?" she finally asked, her face flaming red.

"You know what? That was stupid. Look, I didn't mean to make you feel...I'm sorry. I was just...I'm going to shut up now. But I'll understand if you want someone else to see to my leg," Lorne told her, finally managing to recover some of his composure.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you're discomfited?"

Evan blinked in surprise.

"And, yes, I would love a date," she said, standing up to get some supplies out of a nearby cabinet. "I just never pictured you as the type to to be so nervous asking a woman out."

Certain his ears were glowing at this point, he wasn't sure he dared open his mouth again. "Sorry to disappoint."

Turning back around and setting a tray of supplies beside the bed she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Who said I was disappointed? If anything, it's endearing. Unexpected, but definitely not disappointing."

"Well, what were you expecting? I just march in here and ask you out on a date?"

"Good God no! That would have had me running away. I don't like public displays."

"Really?"

"Yes, so don't get any funny ideas about making out in hallways," she said holding up a syringe threateningly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Besides, Alex told me you were shy. I just didn't believe it," she said, turning the needle of anesthetic toward his leg.

"She did? Really?"

"Yes," she said, carefully making the first injections.

Evan bit his lip for a moment at the sting. "Wait, if you already knew, why didn't you say anything?"

Now Rebecca's face was scarlet to the ears, but her hand never wavered as she continued to inject the wound. She was quiet for so long he almost told her not to answer. But then she finally said, "Because I thought she was teasing me, at first. And then...I didn't think you were ready for something like that."

Now his grin was gone. Was he ready? He could remember a time not so long ago when he was certain he'd never go through that kind of pain again. Was he really ready for something more than just a few dates and a good time? For a while he just watched her work, considering these things.

"It's okay, Major. Maybe another time, then."

"Evan, remember? And...I don't know. I don't know that I'll ever be ready. Does that scare you?"

Rebecca shook her head slightly, the needle steady in her hands. Obviously she was using it as an excuse not to have to look him in the eye. But he could sense her disappointment. She must be thinking he was just out for another fling. "Not really."

He could almost hear Alex in the back of his mind threatening what she would do to him if he screwed this up. That made him grin. "Well it scares the crap outta me. Because I really don't want to screw this up. So, yeah, I'm game if you are. But don't laugh too hard when I fall on my face from time to time."

Finally meeting his eyes, she grinned in return. "Then it's a good thing I'm a doctor, isn't it?"

Thinking how beautiful she was when she smiled, he was certain this was more than a fling. And he hadn't been lying when he said he was scared of messing this up. But, as he watched her work, feeling his heart still racing, he could almost hear Alex cheering him on.

~o~o~o~

As Sheppard found himself slammed to the mats for the umpteenth time today, he didn't bother to even stop for a moment to breathe. He rolled smoothly to his feet. He'd been at this for nearly an hour with Ronon, and he wasn't slowing down. Both their chests were heaving as they squared off again. He smirked with the satisfaction of knowing he'd at least made the large man break a sweat this time.

Over the years he'd learned a lot from a variety of people. But he knew he'd never had a chance to beat Ronon, even on the big man's worst day with a broken leg. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying today. In seconds he was on his back again, this time with Ronon's hand holding him down by the chest. And, for some reason, he wasn't moving. The irritated look on Ronon's face said more than the lack of movement.

"We're done." And, with that, he grabbed Sheppard by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"We're done."

"Why?"

"I don't know what you think you've got to prove, but you're not using me to do it."

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Sheppard protested. "I just wanted a good work out."

"Fine. Use someone else."

"What? Not up for it?"

Ronon gave him a look that made him feel like he'd just grown another head. Okay, that was pretty stupid, John admitted to himself. But he wasn't in the mood to analyze his behavior. He just wanted to wear himself out and get some sleep tonight. "Fine. I'll see if Sergeant McClain is up for a round," he decided, heading toward his bag and radio.

Ronon, already standing over there, blocked his path.

"What? You said to use someone else."

"Having someone beat you up isn't going to bring her back."

Now Sheppard felt he'd been slapped. And, for some reason, slapping always hurt the worst to him; verbal or otherwise. So, now, of course he was pissed. "You're right. We're done."

For a moment, Ronon looked like he was going to take Sheppard to the mats again and maybe sit on him to keep him there this time. Then he stepped aside and crossed his arms as if daring Sheppard to go for his bag. Sheppard eyed him warily as he stepped up. Just when he had his back turned, of course, is when Ronon made his move.

"You need to stop feeling guilty about moving on. That's what we do."

John froze, his radio in hand. His back still to Ronon, he considered taking a swing at the big man. "What makes you think that—"

"Because I know you."

Smart ass attitude firmly in place now he turned around. "Do you now?"

"Yes, I do."

With that, Ronon grabbed his own bag and headed out. For half a second Sheppard had the urge to throw something at his friend and teammate. Trying to figure out exactly what it was he was feeling, even if not the why, he just stood there, staring at the door. Feeling something crunch in his hand, he groaned aloud while silently cursing himself. The earpiece was cracked. Rodney was going to be pissed. Maybe he could pass it off as an accident or something.

But, instead of heading for Rodney's lab to fix his radio, he leaned back and then slid down the wall. He wasn't worried about his introspection being interrupted. This had been Alex's favorite sparring room because no one really used it. And now it was his favorite sparring room for the same reason.

But was that really why he was here? Was there actually something to what Ronon had said? Was it something else altogether?

His racing heart slowing bit by bit, he starting coming down from the workout high. He remembered the last time he'd been in here with Alex. It had been right after the rest of her team had disappeared in a Wraith dart and they were both fairly certain they were all as good as dead. Was that why he'd come here? Because he could still feel her presence?

His introspection lasted all of maybe five minutes. Sitting there in the quiet of the sparring room, he knew. He knew he was over it. He knew he'd moved on. He knew Ronon was right. He knew his misplaced sense of guilt was just that, misplaced. But her presence just wouldn't go away, and he was just going to have to live with that.

He also knew that he was badly going to regret this match in the morning. Time for a hot shower and a good night's sleep.

~o~o~o~

It was too much. He should have asked someone to come with him.

Carson stood just inside the door to the quarters he'd shared with Alex. He was just done. He was done trying to pretend she was still with him. He was done trying to convince himself he would be okay. He was done looking at her stuff. He was done trying to fight back the memories. It was time to pack up her stuff.

Now that he was here, though, with a couple of boxes, he just couldn't do it. Besides, what would he do with it all? Throw it away? It's not like she had a next of kin. For a moment he just stood there, not even really sure what he could do with it all. Maybe he should just pack his stuff and move out, instead. Yeah, that would work.

The door chime had him nearly jumping out of his skin. Forgetting the box in his hands he turned around and opened the door. Sheppard caught sight of the box.

"Bad timing, huh?"

Remembering the box, Carson blushed and tossed it aside. "Not at all, Colonel," he said trying to cover himself and refocus. "I was just…Can I help you?"

"Look, I know you're off duty. I was going to ask you something. Never mind that, though. You want some help? I packed up her stuff in her old quarters not too long ago. I can…"

Carson blinked. Did Sheppard really just…

"No, thank you, Colonel. What did you do with it? If I may ask."

Now it was Sheppard's turn to look sheepish. "I didn't know what to do. So I left most of it in boxes in her quarters and sealed the door. I turned in any Atlantis-issue stuff. But, yeah, I figured you weren't ready to deal yet."

Carson seemed to consider this for a moment. "Can you unseal the door? I will have some more stuff to add."

"Sure thing. Look, Carson, we both know I'm not very good at this stuff. You want me to call Evan, or someone else? Y'know, moral support and all that," Sheppard asked uncomfortably.

He couldn't help but chuckle. No, Sheppard wasn't very good at this, but it was nice of him to offer. "No, thank you, John. It is appreciated."

"Right. I'll catch you tomorrow, then, Doc."

"Good night, Colonel."

For a moment after the door closed, Beckett considered things. It would appear everyone else had moved on. He didn't really feel bad for taking so long to let go. It would probably still be months yet before he could let go. But he had to start somewhere, and this was just as good as any. Turning back to the room, he set one box on his side of the bed, and one box on Alex's side of the bed. He was going to pack up both. It was time to move out.


I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Heaving a sigh of relief and feeling like he'd just dodged a bullet, Sheppard headed down the hall away from Carson's quarters. He genuinely felt bad for his friend, but he'd had enough of this whole mess. He'd already moved on. He might have some lingering issues from time to time, but that he could deal with. Watching Carson pack up Alex's stuff, likely crying the whole time…nope. Just nope. For a moment he toyed with the idea of calling in Evan, or maybe even Daniels anyway.

He didn't realize he'd been so deep in thought. Next thing he knew he was in his quarters. The crystal he'd removed to seal her quarters was still in his bedside table. He wasn't even really sure why he kept it there. Half of him had wanted to throw it off the side of the city so no one would ever invade that space again. But, if anyone deserved to spend time in a place that held so much of Alex, it was Carson.

And, of course, now that the doctor knew about it, he would probably be making regular trips there.

For a moment he tossed the crystal in his hand considering. But he already knew what he was going to do. That place was not his alone. It never should have been. He should have told Carson and probably even Evan and the others sooner. Again he was lost in his thoughts too deeply to realize where he was going or even what he was doing. He stood in front of the door just long enough to brace himself. Putting the crystal back in place, he opened the door.

The wall to wall pictures stared back at him. It was still a beautiful sight. And, though her presence was still strong in this room, he was happy to note, it didn't hurt so much. Now he could see her happy. He could remember her smile. He could hear her laugh. He could clearly see the side of her so few ever really saw. Here, he could do that. Thinking to himself that this was probably a lot less painful than the hangovers, he smiled. He left the room and left the door unlocked.


I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Carson very nearly dropped the box in his hands when the door opened. The pictures were still there. She had even continued to gather more after she had moved in with him. He wondered what she had done with them. It didn't even occur to him that she was still bringing them here to put up on the walls. But the night sky near the bottom with the six moons he had taken for her, after they were living together.

With numb hands he set the box on the floor just inside the doorway. One box. That's all there had been of her in his quarters, realistically. It felt like there should be so much more. He didn't even notice the other boxes across the room. He was again captivated by the photos. There were so many. He'd forgotten how every wall had been almost completely covered, ceiling to floor.

For a moment, he stood in the center of the room taking all of it in. His heart raced and he could feel the lump forming in his throat already. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. He'd been so emotionally exhausted for all these months that he just didn't have anything left. As he breathed through the pain now, he was amazed to feel himself smiling. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled.

"Oh, Alex…" he heard himself say her name for the first time in months.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he just took it all in. A part of her was still here. And it was happy. She had been happy here, too.


I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

This is stupid, Evan thought to himself.

Yet, as he stood outside the door to Alex's old quarters he couldn't deny his racing heart and sweating hands. Part of him was terrified. It felt like he was about to reopen an old wound. But after John told him that Carson was packing up all her stuff and confessed that her old quarters were still virtually untouched, he knew he had to see it for himself. He was carrying two canvasses, if only to justify to himself the visit.

He wondered if anyone ever really "got over" the death of a loved one. He knew, despite his attitude and discussions with shrinks that he still hurt over his father's death. Alex was just the most recent. Most painful, definitely, but there were plenty more. He'd come to terms with the fact that she was gone. He'd even dealt with the sense of unfairness. The hardest had been dealing with the fact that, sometimes, he could still feel a part of her in his mind. It was as if a part of himself had died with her; and he had no doubts it had something to do with the brief telepathic connection they had shared.

Glancing down at the canvasses, he very nearly turned around. He was unspeakably glad this area was fairly unused, because if anyone else had seen him standing there staring at her door, he would have felt even more foolish. Finally, he made up his mind.

Opening the door, he already knew what to expect. He'd seen the pictures enough times when swinging by her quarters to invite her to a run, or dinner, or something else. He'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was the sense of her in there. She was still there. He could feel it. This was a part of her she'd left behind, knowingly or unknowingly. He took a deep breath as he stepped through the door. Yes, it still hurt, it probably always would. But, at least for the moment, it felt more like meeting up with an old friend. For one, brief moment, he entertained the idea of holding a one-way conversation with her. Then he shook it off and turned back to why he was here.

Much as Alex would have loved to hear about how he'd finally managed to work up the courage to ask Rebecca out on a date, that was not why he had come. To justify this visit, he'd brought two canvasses. One was the night sky he'd painted for her that Carson had given back when they returned to Atlantis. The other was an image of her from the shoulders up, smiling and looking up to the sky. He shook off the feeling that this room was quickly becoming some kind of shrine, and propped the two paintings on the bed. Stepping back, he took a moment to take in the whole room.

Then he smiled, knowing he was going to be okay, and headed for the door.

"Good bye, Alex," he whispered to the air, imagining her giving him one last wave as he left.