Fractured
AUTHOR: Shane Vansen
CATEGORY: Sheppard/Weir UST, Angst, H/C
SPOILERS: major for Epiphany, mild for The Storm/The Eye and Intruder
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: After his return to Atlantis, John turns to Elizabeth for stability. Epiphany post-ep.
DISCLAIMER: it's probably best that they're not mine. I'd screw it up.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I was scrolling through Gateworld a few months ago to see if there were any good pics of John and Elizabeth in upcoming eps and got sucked into reading all the available spoilers. The premise for Epiphany (even though I've already seen this ep on Voyager. Twice.) is just begging for a fic.
Short version: John gets trapped on a planet where time moves faster. From his point of view he's there for a year; from Atlantis' pov he's only gone a few minutes, hours at most.
Long version: http://www.gateworld.net/atlantis/s2/2x5.shtml (there are a whole lot more details here, but none of them have anything to do with the fic if you don't want to be spoiled any further)
Many many thanks to Ro for her lovely betaing job; she helped make the ending way better.
**
Elizabeth was dragged from a deep sleep by a persistent knocking at the door to her quarters. Distantly puzzled as to why someone hadn't just paged her if there was an emergency, she kicked aside her sheets and moved sleepily to the door.
It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the low light of the hall, but she knew who it was right away because he started talking before she could even make out the familiar silhouette of his perpetually tousled hair.
"I know it's late," John apologized, "but I can't sleep." He paused. "I woke you, didn't I?"
"It's fine." Now that Elizabeth was more awake, she could see how he was practically vibrating with energy. She knew him well enough to recognize his signs of a sleep-deprived adrenaline rush. Stepping aside, she palmed the light control, bringing her room to half-illumination. "Come in."
She made her way back to her bed, where she sat with her back against the headboard and her knees drawn up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She watched John pace restlessly around the room.
"It's weird, you know?" he asked. "I mean, for all of you the whole thing only took a couple of hours, but for me it was a year. Three hundred and forty-seven days, actually." He paused and turned around to face her, holding her gaze. "I counted." He turned away again and resumed pacing. "Relative to Atlantis time, of course," he added, sounding disturbingly matter of fact.
Elizabeth had a sudden image of John carving scratches into a rock wall or a block of wood to keep track of the days, like in the movies, and the thought made her stomach hurt. She wished she knew what to say or do to make it easier for him but she could only barely wrap her head around the situation; she had no idea where to start.
He was still pacing, his fingers tapping against his thigh in a rhythm Elizabeth couldn't quite catch. It was making her jumpy.
She half-knelt on the bed, one foot on the floor for balance, and caught John's shoulder on his next pass. When he not only stopped pacing but reached up and gripped her hand so hard it actually hurt, she knew exactly what to do.
Standing, she wrapped her arms around John's shoulders, not surprised in the least when he didn't hesitate in returning the gesture. He buried his face in her neck and she simply held him.
Their height difference made the embrace just that much too awkward to hold for very long, however, and Elizabeth could feel the fatigue creeping back into her body. Pulling away from John, she went to the panel next to the door to turn off the light. She took John's hand as she passed him on the way back to the bed and, shifting to the far side of the narrow mattress, tugged him down with her.
They'd done this once before, back when the Genii had tried to take Atlantis. For several days after the incident John had seemed reluctant to let her out of his sight, and Elizabeth had been sufficiently freaked out at the time to be grateful for his reassuring presence. The first night after the storm he'd followed her back to her quarters and held her until morning, and though she didn't think either of them got much sleep she'd felt better. They'd never spoken about it, but it was after that night that he'd stopped calling her 'Dr. Weir' and started calling her 'Elizabeth'.
Tonight it was her turn to hold him, although he had pretty tight hold of her, too. He had shaved off his beard sometime since getting home – that had been odd, seeing him with a beard – and she breathed deep, inhaling the scent of shaving cream and soap and him.
"It's strange," he said quietly, his breath toothpaste-scented and warm against her skin. "Being back on Atlantis after so long away. Almost everything feels different than I remember." His arms tightened around her and he repeated, "Almost everything," faintly, into her neck, and Elizabeth tried not to think of the possible implications of his words.
"Like when we went back to Earth," she guessed. It was strange how one's definition of 'home' could change, depending on circumstance. She hoped that despite everything – and she wasn't stupid; she knew there'd been a woman in his life on that planet – he'd be able to see Atlantis as home again before too long.
"Yeah," he agreed. He was silent for a long moment and then whispered, his muscles tensing, "A year, Elizabeth."
"I'm sorry," she whispered back, because there was nothing else she could say.
She pulled him closer, hugging him tightly, and felt him slowly relax. John's hand found hers in the dark and he brought it to lie palm-down on his chest, above his heart. She was already drifting back into sleep when he stirred. "Elizabeth?"
"Mmm?" It came out as barely more than a sigh.
"I missed you."
--end--
AUTHOR: Shane Vansen
CATEGORY: Sheppard/Weir UST, Angst, H/C
SPOILERS: major for Epiphany, mild for The Storm/The Eye and Intruder
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: After his return to Atlantis, John turns to Elizabeth for stability. Epiphany post-ep.
DISCLAIMER: it's probably best that they're not mine. I'd screw it up.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I was scrolling through Gateworld a few months ago to see if there were any good pics of John and Elizabeth in upcoming eps and got sucked into reading all the available spoilers. The premise for Epiphany (even though I've already seen this ep on Voyager. Twice.) is just begging for a fic.
Short version: John gets trapped on a planet where time moves faster. From his point of view he's there for a year; from Atlantis' pov he's only gone a few minutes, hours at most.
Long version: http://www.gateworld.net/atlantis/s2/2x5.shtml (there are a whole lot more details here, but none of them have anything to do with the fic if you don't want to be spoiled any further)
Many many thanks to Ro for her lovely betaing job; she helped make the ending way better.
**
Elizabeth was dragged from a deep sleep by a persistent knocking at the door to her quarters. Distantly puzzled as to why someone hadn't just paged her if there was an emergency, she kicked aside her sheets and moved sleepily to the door.
It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the low light of the hall, but she knew who it was right away because he started talking before she could even make out the familiar silhouette of his perpetually tousled hair.
"I know it's late," John apologized, "but I can't sleep." He paused. "I woke you, didn't I?"
"It's fine." Now that Elizabeth was more awake, she could see how he was practically vibrating with energy. She knew him well enough to recognize his signs of a sleep-deprived adrenaline rush. Stepping aside, she palmed the light control, bringing her room to half-illumination. "Come in."
She made her way back to her bed, where she sat with her back against the headboard and her knees drawn up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She watched John pace restlessly around the room.
"It's weird, you know?" he asked. "I mean, for all of you the whole thing only took a couple of hours, but for me it was a year. Three hundred and forty-seven days, actually." He paused and turned around to face her, holding her gaze. "I counted." He turned away again and resumed pacing. "Relative to Atlantis time, of course," he added, sounding disturbingly matter of fact.
Elizabeth had a sudden image of John carving scratches into a rock wall or a block of wood to keep track of the days, like in the movies, and the thought made her stomach hurt. She wished she knew what to say or do to make it easier for him but she could only barely wrap her head around the situation; she had no idea where to start.
He was still pacing, his fingers tapping against his thigh in a rhythm Elizabeth couldn't quite catch. It was making her jumpy.
She half-knelt on the bed, one foot on the floor for balance, and caught John's shoulder on his next pass. When he not only stopped pacing but reached up and gripped her hand so hard it actually hurt, she knew exactly what to do.
Standing, she wrapped her arms around John's shoulders, not surprised in the least when he didn't hesitate in returning the gesture. He buried his face in her neck and she simply held him.
Their height difference made the embrace just that much too awkward to hold for very long, however, and Elizabeth could feel the fatigue creeping back into her body. Pulling away from John, she went to the panel next to the door to turn off the light. She took John's hand as she passed him on the way back to the bed and, shifting to the far side of the narrow mattress, tugged him down with her.
They'd done this once before, back when the Genii had tried to take Atlantis. For several days after the incident John had seemed reluctant to let her out of his sight, and Elizabeth had been sufficiently freaked out at the time to be grateful for his reassuring presence. The first night after the storm he'd followed her back to her quarters and held her until morning, and though she didn't think either of them got much sleep she'd felt better. They'd never spoken about it, but it was after that night that he'd stopped calling her 'Dr. Weir' and started calling her 'Elizabeth'.
Tonight it was her turn to hold him, although he had pretty tight hold of her, too. He had shaved off his beard sometime since getting home – that had been odd, seeing him with a beard – and she breathed deep, inhaling the scent of shaving cream and soap and him.
"It's strange," he said quietly, his breath toothpaste-scented and warm against her skin. "Being back on Atlantis after so long away. Almost everything feels different than I remember." His arms tightened around her and he repeated, "Almost everything," faintly, into her neck, and Elizabeth tried not to think of the possible implications of his words.
"Like when we went back to Earth," she guessed. It was strange how one's definition of 'home' could change, depending on circumstance. She hoped that despite everything – and she wasn't stupid; she knew there'd been a woman in his life on that planet – he'd be able to see Atlantis as home again before too long.
"Yeah," he agreed. He was silent for a long moment and then whispered, his muscles tensing, "A year, Elizabeth."
"I'm sorry," she whispered back, because there was nothing else she could say.
She pulled him closer, hugging him tightly, and felt him slowly relax. John's hand found hers in the dark and he brought it to lie palm-down on his chest, above his heart. She was already drifting back into sleep when he stirred. "Elizabeth?"
"Mmm?" It came out as barely more than a sigh.
"I missed you."
--end--