Time wavered, lost in the remnants of vast space and yet it still burned fiercely into Elizabeth Wier's prosthetic body. The tangible term should have meant nothing but her humanity still perceived every moment, collaborating the seconds and attributing them to nearly two months worth of guilt and regret. She had nearly destroyed Atlantis, everything she had once sought to protect with naively wasted breath, and it still haunted her.
John was right; she was no longer Elizabeth Weir. At least, not the one he remembered.
Perhaps her intentions had been honourable but it was only out of desperation that she'd sought the refuge of a human body. Given time and the opportunity to indulge in it, she knew the others as well as herself would never have accepted the form. Even the possibility of ascension couldn't compare to the suffocating walls of mortality. It was comparative to a square peg in a round hole, it simply didn't fit.
Now the irony hit her hard.
Instead of choosing a life with physical and timely limitations, she'd walked the remaining replicators to imminent death. Of course at the time she hadn't foreseen the outcome. By stepping through the gate, to her kind, it was merely a form of stasis. A means to an altered fate entirely out of their hands. She never could have anticipated the two Wraith cruisers in orbit or that the radiation from their destruction would erode her almost indestructible body, and that wasn't even the worst part.
To her surprise, it was the unsuspecting pain that came with finally letting go.
She had fought so hard; against the nanites, the other replicators, Oberoth and despite her mind being raped repeatedly, there was still a whisper of hope echoing faintly against the raging trauma. She could no longer decipher whether it was real, an imprint or perhaps a lasting memory from her former self but it lingered, craving nothing more than the simplistic view of an ocean surrounded by a warm breeze.
The thought started to slip away, drowned by a fiery pain that spread faster than the nanites trying to repair her. It hurt. But not nearly as much as releasing her grip on reality did and she closed her mind to the pain. Regardless of who she was, what she had become, there was still a place out there she called home and she held onto that thought with every last reserve.
All of a sudden she found herself freezing, encompassed entirely by the fading darkness. It was terrifying, pulling her a part in every direction and she wanted to scream, cry... anything but the sound never reached her lips.
Home, she wanted to go home.
Drawing strength from the notion even as it slipped beyond comprehension, she focused on the distant roll of waves. It had to be her imagination, in the very least a delusion but the sound seemed to be calling her, drawing her into it's warmth.
Her eye's snapped open.
Surrounding her was the familiar picture, the balcony that she'd long craved a return to and she gripped the rail. The clarity was overwhelming; everything and nothing, past and present, knowing all without so much as a thought. It was enlightening and she could feel the choice that begged no question pumping through her veins. The non-existent answer finding her with every breath.
Atlantis.
She was finally going home.
John was right; she was no longer Elizabeth Weir. At least, not the one he remembered.
Perhaps her intentions had been honourable but it was only out of desperation that she'd sought the refuge of a human body. Given time and the opportunity to indulge in it, she knew the others as well as herself would never have accepted the form. Even the possibility of ascension couldn't compare to the suffocating walls of mortality. It was comparative to a square peg in a round hole, it simply didn't fit.
Now the irony hit her hard.
Instead of choosing a life with physical and timely limitations, she'd walked the remaining replicators to imminent death. Of course at the time she hadn't foreseen the outcome. By stepping through the gate, to her kind, it was merely a form of stasis. A means to an altered fate entirely out of their hands. She never could have anticipated the two Wraith cruisers in orbit or that the radiation from their destruction would erode her almost indestructible body, and that wasn't even the worst part.
To her surprise, it was the unsuspecting pain that came with finally letting go.
She had fought so hard; against the nanites, the other replicators, Oberoth and despite her mind being raped repeatedly, there was still a whisper of hope echoing faintly against the raging trauma. She could no longer decipher whether it was real, an imprint or perhaps a lasting memory from her former self but it lingered, craving nothing more than the simplistic view of an ocean surrounded by a warm breeze.
The thought started to slip away, drowned by a fiery pain that spread faster than the nanites trying to repair her. It hurt. But not nearly as much as releasing her grip on reality did and she closed her mind to the pain. Regardless of who she was, what she had become, there was still a place out there she called home and she held onto that thought with every last reserve.
All of a sudden she found herself freezing, encompassed entirely by the fading darkness. It was terrifying, pulling her a part in every direction and she wanted to scream, cry... anything but the sound never reached her lips.
Home, she wanted to go home.
Drawing strength from the notion even as it slipped beyond comprehension, she focused on the distant roll of waves. It had to be her imagination, in the very least a delusion but the sound seemed to be calling her, drawing her into it's warmth.
Her eye's snapped open.
Surrounding her was the familiar picture, the balcony that she'd long craved a return to and she gripped the rail. The clarity was overwhelming; everything and nothing, past and present, knowing all without so much as a thought. It was enlightening and she could feel the choice that begged no question pumping through her veins. The non-existent answer finding her with every breath.
Atlantis.
She was finally going home.