Unexpected by Oparu
Author's Chapter Notes: Thank you to everyone who reads. It wouldn't be nearly as much fun to write without you (and pointless...). Thank you to everyone who feedbacks. It always surprises me what parts you find the most interesting. Thank you to Shannon for just being awesome.
Our team tries to work out the dynamics of their new city. Simon confronts Elizabeth. John meets Queen Mab.
Our team tries to work out the dynamics of their new city. Simon confronts Elizabeth. John meets Queen Mab.
"I will be assigning times for interviews for all of you," Teyla explained as she stood on a chair in the front of the cafeteria. "We know you all had jobs on Earth, and many of you have children who will also need to be taken care of. I know this is difficult for all of you, not only losing your home, but having to integrate into a new community, in a new galaxy. I want you all to know we are here to help you. Major Lorne and I are doing our best to make sure you fit in and are happy here."
She looked down at her list on her computer and winced when she pulled at the bandage on her shoulder. The wound from the Replicator mission was still healing. "Please make your way to the balcony and find out when you are scheduled," she instructed the crowd around her. "Sergeants Haley, Kinnonen and Renault will be waiting for you. Thank you again for your patience and cooperation." The group filed out and Teyla nodded to Ronon to send in the next group.
John winced watching her, glad he'd managed to avoid giving the same speech eight times to different groups of civilians. "Maybe we should give them colors," John teased Elizabeth across his plate of Athosian stewed rice, grains, and vegetables the cafeteria was offering as breakfast.
She poked at hers with disinterest and glanced up at him in confusion. "Colors?" she wondered.
"Yeah, civilian group red, blue, green, pink..." John said as he took a bite and glared at her unmoving fork. "That way we can send them places easier."
"Oh," Elizabeth responded softly, catching his look and taking a hesitant bite of her breakfast.
"It's really not bad," John offered with a shrug as he finished off the last of his. "Since you skipped out on the sauce, it should be really bland."
"It is," she agreed, still toying at it with her fork. "I just..."
"I hate to be the voice of reason," John started, leaning back in his chair with his coffee. "But, it's better to eat it and hope you keep it down than to not eat it. Didn't General O'Neill tell you his sister felt better when she ate?"
Elizabeth forced herself to take a bite and smiled as she tried to talk around her food. "How'd you know that?" she demanded with amusement.
"He told me to remind you," John conceded with a wink. "Speaking of the general..." He tilted his head, drawing Elizabeth's attention as he flagged down Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter as they made their way through the crowd. "Carson let you out?" He asked Sam as she sat down with great care.
"On good behavior," Carter grinned playfully as Jack took the chair next to Elizabeth. "I think he was just sick of the general moping around his infirmary."
"I did not mope," Jack corrected her indignantly. "I strutted pompously and looked concerned." He turned from John's empty plate to Elizabeth's full one and gave her a look that would have wilted flowers. "Something wrong with your rice?"
"No," Elizabeth said, embarrassed as Sam and John gave her sympathetic looks.
Jack elbowed her lightly in the side. "The sooner you finish the sooner you can get away from me bothering you," he suggested playfully.
"There's motivation for me," Elizabeth muttered as she looked away from all the eyes on her.
"It's a good motivation, really," Sam added as Jack reached across the table to squeeze her free hand. "He's had years of practice being really annoying."
'Why thank you, Colonel," Jack dropped her hand as if she had burned him and looked indignant. "I've worked hard to become such."
"So how does it feel to be the head of the military?" John teased, drawing the conversation off Elizabeth as she tentatively started to eat.
"Headish?" Jack replied without much thought. "I guess odd, I suppose. Probably about as odd as being head of say, everything..." He turned on Elizabeth, startling her as she took a sip of tea.
"I'm not..." she started to argue, but across the table John nodded.
"Yes, actually," Jack corrected for her. "You are the big cheese around here."
Elizabeth's knuckles whitened as she grabbed her cup a little tighter. Her rice suddenly seemed much less appetizing. She hadn't thought about it, but she'd been left guardian of the remnants of the entire culture of Earth. Beneath the table John's hand brushed her knee; which startled her so badly that she nearly dropped her fork.
"Finish eating," he instructed firmly. Promising with his eyes that she could handle whatever the universe had left for her. "Don't worry about it; we have a lot to do today."
~*~*~*~*~
Her computer screen hurt her eyes. Elizabeth rubbed at her temples, wishing that would help her focus. Dishes from her lunch, and dinner sat on the floor beside the crate she was using as a desk. Writing her speech was incredibly hard. She'd teared up twice trying to finish it and that was probably only adding to her headache. She stretched her arms, feeling the bandage from the blood Carson had taken. His wish for an actual appointment had been put off for another few days until she was less busy. She nearly hated herself for not making the time. There was just so much she needed to do.
Major Lorne knocked on the glass wall and waited for her to look up. A pleasant looking couple stood behind him, probably in their late fifties. The familial resemblance was easy to see in the jaw line of his father and the stunning eyes of his mother. "Doctor Weir?" he began politely. "I hope we're not intruding..."
"Oh no," she said immediately. Closing her eyes as she stood up, Elizabeth put on her best professional smile. "I've afraid I haven't met-"
"-my parents," Lorne introduced proudly. "This is Edmund and Colonel Catherine Lorne."
Edmund's handshake was firm and dry. He had a gentle smile that won her over immediately. Catherine took longer. Her blue eyes sized Elizabeth up, and she felt like she was being judged by her grip.
"You needn't worry about my wife," Edmund promised with that same smile. "The dragon retired from the Marines years ago. My son just likes to point out that he's about to pass her up in rank."
Lorne looked suitably embarrassed, but still beamed at his parents. "They requested a chance to volunteer their services," he explained as he stood behind them. "Mom was a logistics coordination and Dad was an elementary school teacher."
"Always found trucks easier to manage than children," Catherine added to her son's explanation. "I'm going to be helping Evan here keep everyone in order, that's if it's okay with you, Ma'am."
Elizabeth started slightly, unused to being differed to by a woman so much her elder. "I'm sure he'll be happy to have the assistance, thank you," she said graciously. "And you as well, Mr. Lorne, we haven't even begun to think of what we will do with the children of the city." The same cold knot that had taken up permanent residence in the pit of her stomach reminded her that, before she knew it, her child would need schooling.
"Then allow me to volunteer," Edmund said, breaking her out of her reverie. "With your permission, of course, I'll work with my son and the very capable Miss Teyla and come up with a plan."
Elizabeth just nodded; too overwhelmed to be anything but grateful her people were managing to take things out of her hands. "It sounds like a good idea," she replied gratefully. "I'll wish you all luck and let you get on with your work."
"Thank you, Ma'am..." Major Lorne nodded quickly, understanding immediately that she had to get back to her work. "Come on, we all have a lot to get done." He shepherded his parents out of his office, giving her a final embarrassed smile.
Creeping back to her chair, she dropped into it and recollected her computer. Setting aside her speech for the memorial service she tried to focus. What were they going to do? How could she feed eight hundred without constant supplies from Earth? The Athosians had already been so generous with food. How could she ask them for clothing as well? Carson had already mentioned rationing morphine and other precious drugs. The Daedalus had left him their entire supply, but it wasn't much.
Her eyes itched from the strain. The clock on her computer read a quarter after nine. It was so hard to keep track of the time without the sun outside her window. She should go to bed; her body already ached from the twelve hours she'd spent in her office. Her speech still needed work, but it was too hard to write. Closing her eyes only made her think of her mother. Elizabeth couldn't help wondering how she had died; if she had suffered when the fire came down from the sky. From what Caldwell had reported, Earth's demise had been quick.
It was in her dreams, burned into the back of her eyelids. Her mother stood over the stove in the kitchen, looking up just as the window exploded inward in a blast of heat. Her hair erupted into flame and her skin went black. Elizabeth couldn't hear anything except the roaring of her heartbeat in her ears, but her imagination saw everything.
When she shook it away, her hands were still trembling and her t-shirt was damp with sweat. Elizabeth forced herself to turn her attention back to her computer. If she couldn't focus on her speech, she could at least keep working on the manifest. Teyla and Lorne had been good about keeping track of everyone. Many of the refugees from Earth were elderly parents and children. There were significant numbers of younger people, many of the scientists and some of the military personnel had spouses. Most of them had careers.
Teyla and Lorne had already weeded out anyone with medical talent. Beckett had gained three doctors, including Simon. Beside Kate, Atlantis now had two other psychiatrists and a social worker. Some of the refugees had been teachers, even a few college professors. Lorne's father would have many people to organize into a school system.
Again her mind wandered, picturing the children of the city attending classes in some of the empty rooms on the lower level. Would her child have John's eyes? Would he or she like mathematics or art classes? John was very intelligent, no matter how well he hid it. Would that be an advantage? She couldn't picture her child. Elizabeth was still having a hard time getting her mind around the idea of her pregnancy. It was still so intangible. If she didn't know better she'd still be writing off her nausea as a lingering case of the stomach flu.
Three months ago her biggest concern was imminent attack by the Wraith or Replicators. Then it was how to handle a moment's intoxicated indiscretion on an alien planet. Even being banished from Atlantis by the Ancients was easier than this. Remembering that reminded her of her aborted attempt at writing her memoirs. Carson had pointed out she'd never be able to punish them on Earth, but ironically now they were the last link she had. Earth had been her home, once, but the last time she was there all she'd wanted was to get away. Elizabeth fought with her eyes, looking through the screen as she opened her memoirs and started at the beginning. Not at the beginning of her time in Atlantis, but at her very first memory.
She'd been outside, in the garden, waiting for her father to appear over the side of the hedge. She knew his face would eventually erupt from the leaves to surprise her. With all the seriousness of her toddler's mind, she knew her father would appear more than she knew the sun would rise. There was something cathartic about writing down her goodbye to Earth.
~*~*~*~*~
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Simon called as he hurried down the hallway to catch up with the elusive Colonel Sheppard. John ignored him, dipping down a corridor and disappearing into one of those transporters. He'd only met the man briefly yesterday, but it was becoming obvious Sheppard had it in for him. He'd been running an errand for Doctor Beckett, picking up more sutures from the supply storage, the first time he'd passed him in the hallway. He nearly brushed it off when John shot him a glare that would have melted an ice sculpture.
Simon had only caught it out of the corner of his eye. When he looked, John was smiling quietly to himself. He would have put it off as an accidental misunderstanding, but he'd run into the colonel again at lunch. John was picking up two meals, carefully balancing one plate against the other on a silver tray. He'd been behind him in line, waiting for the other man to finish with the offering of sandwiches. John had tripped just at the end, managing to save his tray only by bringing his arm down on Simon's hand.
His plate had gone flying, landing on the floor in a pile. John had apologized very politely, even offered to get someone to help clean it up. He'd refused to do so himself, saying Elizabeth was waiting for her lunch. There was something about the way he said her name; how John lingered over it. He had smiled when he left. He knew something.
Simon found himself finding excuses to talk about Elizabeth. Looking for any excuse to hear what she'd been doing and how extraordinary her life had become. Doctor Beckett was only happy to oblige, sharing stories of heroism that surprised him. He'd known Elizabeth was brave, gutsier than he'd believe, but no one had ever been able to tell him what she did. Everything was always top secret.
"Suppose that doesn't count for much anymore?" Carson asked rhetorically. "No government, no reason to keep anything top secret is there?" He ran his hand thoughtfully across his head, ruffling his brown hair. "Let's see, where was I..."
"...the Genii tried to take over Atlantis," Simon filled in as he organized the pharmaceutical cabinet on the infirmary wall.
"Oh right, right," Carson turned back to his microscope, studying some blood sample he'd been working on all afternoon. "Rodney and Elizabeth were held hostage by this madman, Kolya, while Sheppard ran around killing Kolya's men. Got the bastard right pissed off and killed a full company of his soldiers." Looking up long enough to grin proudly, Carson continued. "So then Kolya tries to grab Elizabeth and take her through the gate. Ford and Sheppard took out most of the guys, but Kolya was left holding Elizabeth-" Carson mimed holding a person to his chest. "He kept going, betting John wouldn't shoot him..."
"...and?" Simon prodded, waiting for the end of the story.
"Bam!" Carson exclaimed proudly. "Rodney said he just shot him, missed Elizabeth entirely and hit Kolya right in the shoulder." He chuckled, remembering Rodney's rendition of the story. "It was a very nice shot." Still smiling, he returned to the microscope. "Damn...would you look at that?" Carson waved Simon over. "Ever done any work with retroviruses?"
"A little..." Simon admitted as he waited for his turn. "What am I looking for?"
"See the protein markers?" Carson coaxed as he brought up the microscope on the display. "The ones I've stained blue are normal, but these..." he indicated the bright green in the blood sample. "...these are the ones altered by the retrovirus. It's specifically changing her DNA, splicing in just this group of cells all over her body."
"That can't be natural," Simon pointed out as Carson showed him the DNA profiles. "The retrovirus would have to be specifically tailored to the subject's own DNA to be this effective."
"Well, you're half-right," Carson explained as he pulled up the fetal blood cells he'd been able to extract from Elizabeth's sample that afternoon. "The subject is nine weeks pregnant and this virus seems to have been generated by the fetus. The genes that are being spliced, here and here..." he indicated more bright green markers, "...were taken from the father's DNA."
"You're telling me someone wrote a virus that takes a specific gene from the father's DNA and writes it into the mother's?" Simon wondered incredulously. "Do you have any idea how complex that would be?"
"Aye," Carson whistled as he shook his head. "I'm setting up the machine to run a full sequence now. Maybe they left us a calling card."
"Or an instruction manual," Simon complained as he stared at the DNA. "Does she have any symptoms? Is this causing any problems for her?"
"Well, no, not outside the ordinary complaints from pregnancy," Carson said as he tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's possible the retrovirus is magnifying her symptoms, so far her nausea and exhaustion have been on the severe side."
"And this gene pattern," Simon folded his arms across his chest and tried to remember everything he had learned so far. "This is the Ancient gene? The one you call ATA?"
"Aye, that's it," Carson agreed, pleased Simon was catching on so quickly. "Whoever designed this, meant it to seed the mother with what we call ATA, or as Elizabeth found in the database, LK476. Now, if the mother has it, since ATA is a dominant trait it would be passed on to all her children. This virus seems to make sure the mother gets it..."
"...that way if she had children with another man, the gene would still be passed on, rather useful if the culture doesn't value monogamy," Simon continued for him. "Have you done any contagion tests? Is this virus being spread around the city? Sanitary conditions can't be the best with so many refugees."
"It doesn't seem to be able to spread..." Carson trailed off as he studied the results in front of him. "I'll try infecting a different blood culture and see if that does anything."
~*~*~*~*~
"Do you miss Earth?" Ronon asked him as he caught up in the hallway.
"Kinda," John replied, shrugging a little as he checked off the rooms that were occupied.
"Atlantis is your home," Ronon answered for him as he fell in step with him. "Earth was just were you came from."
"Don't get me wrong," John said, sticking a note with the name 'Stackhouse' on the room that housed the Colonel and his family. "Earth was a pretty fantastic place. Cars, football, jet airplanes, football, steaks you can't eat in one sitting..."
"...football?" Ronon teased, smiling knowingly. "I miss festivals on Sateda, going to a holiday and knowing why I was there."
"Super Bowl parties..." John added as he nodded in agreement. "Being part of a crowd that's all celebrating the same thing."
"It's pretty rough on your people," Ronon commented as he helped John stick a note with a last name on the next doorway. "Not knowing about the Replicators and suddenly being wiped out. On Sateda we went down fighting."
"I'm sure Earth did too," John sighed, wondering yet again how terrible that final battle had been. What had they done when the drones ran out? "We're not really the type to go quietly."
"Good," Ronon agreed as he took a glance down at John's list. "Any warriors?"
"A few..." John answered without much confidence. "Mostly families."
"Family can be an asset," Ronon pointed out as the corridor curved past the quarters John and Elizabeth made their home. Borrowing a sheet of paper from John's clipboard, Ronon wrote 'WEIR' in large block letters and stuck it on the door with a grin. "You know she's the head of your family."
John shook his head indignantly, starting to chuckle when he realized it was probably true.
"She doing all right?" Ronon asked as they headed onwards. "Throwing up less?"
Now John had to shake his head. "You know, she says she is..."
"...then she isn't," Ronon finished for him. "Weir's like Teyla. She can't stop. She could be dying and she'd drag herself up to help someone else. She's looking for trouble, doing that pregnant."
"I'm open to suggestions," John said helplessly and lowered his clipboard for a moment.
"Tell her you need her," Ronon sagely replied, tossing one of his knives into the air and catching it neatly. "Let her rescue you. Keep her close." He patted John the shoulder, nearly leaving a bruise behind. "Think of yourself as bait. Women love that."
John closed his eyes, rubbing his shoulder and trying to decide if there was merit in what Ronon had said. The guy had been married after all. Glancing down at his watch, he realized it was nearly midnight. She'd still be in her office. Elizabeth wouldn't leave until he carried her out of there, conscious or unconscious. He tucked his work under his arm and headed for the transporter. He was still turning over what to say as the transporter opened onto the control room.
Murphy was there, calm at his place at the console. Zelenka and one of the Japanese scientists were arguing about something at the science station. Neither of them looked up as he passed.
~*~*~*~*~
John was on the catwalk to her office when the voice stopped him. The world darkened around him, as if he was about to sneeze and his eyes were closing.
"It's a heavy burden, isn't it?" Queen Mab began from behind him. "Her shoulders seem a little slight, but perhaps together you're strong enough."
"Who the hell are you?" John snapped, turning around and pulling his sidearm. Even though the city had gone gray around him, she was in full color and obviously responsible.
The Queen smiled calmly as he pointed his pistol at her chest. She'd chosen to appear to him in the simple black dress she'd worn into exile. Her gray and black hair hung heavily over her shoulders onto her chest. "I did so hope she'd tell you," Mab shook her head slowly. "I am Queen Mab, you conceived your child at my festival."
"Okay," John said warily, keeping his gun leveled at her chest. If she was an ancient, a bullet wouldn't hurt her, but it did make him feel safer. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to talk," she offered as she opened her palms in a sign of friendship. "I've already visited your Elizabeth, but I gather she didn't mention it to you."
"She didn't want me to worry," John guessed as he tossed a look back towards Elizabeth in her office. She had her eyes closed and she was clinging to the edges of the crate that served as a desk. As he watched she stood up weakly, her face strained. "Elizabeth?" He kept the gun pointed loosely in Mab's direction, but he backed quickly into her office.
Elizabeth didn't see him. When she opened her eyes, she looked right through him and there was pain in her face.
"Why can't she see me?" he demanded, straightening his hold on the pistol.
Mab walked right up to it, letting him rest the barrel on her chest. "You're out of sync with her reality at the moment," she explained lightly.
"She's in pain," John realized, giving up on the gun as he turned back to Elizabeth. She was still clinging to the crate, as if she couldn't stand on her own. Her eyes twitched and then tightened. "She's in trouble," he worried, whirling back to Mab angrily. "Let me go."
Shaking her head, Mab suddenly grew brighter, as if she had sucked the light from the rest of the room. "I need you to listen to me," Mab commanded, her voice growing deeper as she spoke.
John turned away from her, watching as Elizabeth's skin grew pale. There was sweat on her forehead, catching in her hair. Something was wrong; her knuckles were too white, and she was too unsteady on her feet. "Not now!" he shut her down, feeling something crackle in the air between them. "I need to be with her, so let me go," he growled as rationally as he could.
"Do you know what you're protecting?" Mab asked him softly, teasing him with her voice.
Rushing to Elizabeth, his hands passed through her shoulders. Glaring his fury at Mab, he watched her approach as Elizabeth started to bite her lip. "Let me go," he demanded slowly, feeling the words tear out of his throat. "She needs me."
"My presence causes her pain," Mab explained darkly, moving closer to Elizabeth to prove her point.
Immediately, Elizabeth's eyes widened and one of her hands left the desk to clutch her stomach.
"Then leave!" John lashed out, shouting as his fist slammed into her chin.
To her own surprise, Mab felt blood run down her chin. Staring at it with vague amusement, she smiled at John and backed up a step from Elizabeth. "You are truly intriguing John Sheppard," she said thoughtfully, backing up further to allow Elizabeth the chance to breathe. "And you have no idea what power you hold."
"Just say what you need to say," he surrendered, nervously pacing just behind Elizabeth. She rocked in place, trying to manage the sudden agony in her abdomen. "Dammit, get it over with," John hissed again, clenching his teeth.
"You'd give it all up for her," Mab foretold quietly, still rubbing a trickle of blood from her chin. "Losing Earth didn't faze you; in fact the rest of the universe could fade from existence as long as you have her..."
John ignored her and watched the droplet of sweat race down Elizabeth's temple to catch in a curl of her hair.
"...you value yourself most in service to others but you have no idea what that will demand from you," she continued, as her smile blossomed proudly. "Nor do you care, do you?"
"I need to touch her," John begged but there was an ultimatum in his voice. "Don't make me..."
"Oh my dear Sheppard," Mab replied, cackling with laughter. "How long it's been since I encountered a creature like you. Go, take care of her, but...remember this, if you recall nothing else from our conversation; you know why you were born and why your path has led you to this place. Be strong in your heart."
~*~*~*~*~
Elizabeth was seconds away from calling for help over the radio when the pain stopped. As quickly as it had manifested, it was gone. Bewildered and exhausted she just stood there, resting her weight on her desk until John's hands startled her back to reality.
"You okay?" he asked with deep concern. His forehead was furrowed, tight with worry.
"Where did you?" Elizabeth started to ask before she realized she didn't care. The sudden attack was over and all she felt was numb. "I didn't see you."
"Who's Mab?" John wondered, waiting for her to let him guide her back to the chair.
Elizabeth sighed, feeling the air take the strength to stand out of her body along with it. "She's an Ancient," she responded softly, still clinging to the desk as her muscles started to give out. "She did something to us, made us conceive on Ceol." His hands ran gently down her back, making sure she remained steady. "Did she?"
"Appeared in my head," John answered grimly. "Hateful bitch, isn't she?"
A smile tore at her lips, surprising her slightly. "She's insane, but she's trying to tell us something," Elizabeth explained patiently as she pulled herself up, letting go of the crate that served as her desk. "There's some truth in her ramblings..." She reached for his forehead, trying to smooth the worry with her hand. "I think she's mostly harmless."
"She hurt you," John argued back, unwilling to let the Ancient woman off so easily. "She said her presence causes you pain," he admitted trying to remember anything else Mab had said that was useful.
"That seems to be the case," Elizabeth agreed, groaning slightly as she let him lead her back into the chair.
"Elizabeth?" he warned, still wanting to whisk her off to the infirmary and let Beckett run all the tests he could think of.
"I'm just tired," she offered softly, not quite believing it herself. "It's been a long day." She ran a hand through the curls on her head, letting them fall onto her shoulders. "Hasn't it?"
"Yeah," he agreed with open eyes and a quick nod of his head. "Tomorrow will be better."
"How do you...?"
"I don't know," John teased with a grin. "But it sounds better than worrying tomorrow will be horrible, doesn't it?"
"That's almost sweet," she sighed, leaning her head back against his stomach. Elizabeth closed her eyes, taking in the grounding smell of his skin through his shirt. "I don't know if I can do this," she murmured to his shirt. The fabric was soft, washed too many times already. "How are we going to take care of everyone? Keep them all safe?"
John was quiet as he bent down to kiss the top of her head.
"We don't have any backup," she reminded him darkly. "Hell, John we are the backup. If anything happens now, to the Daedalus or the Odyssey, we have to save them. The Athosians, our trade partners, every village, every town full of innocent people..." overwhelmed by the idea, she trailed off, unable to think about it anymore.
"You know, I hate to ruin the moment," John said lightly, drawing her out of her melancholy. "But we were their best hope before, and if you look on the bright side, we have a flying city now." He pointed to the starscape hanging outside the window. "It took the Wraith hundreds of years to even get the Ancients retreat from this city. We can get rid of the Replicators in less time than that. Think of the tactical advantage, we have McKay, Zelenka, and Carter...with the three of them and a few more stolen Replicator ships we'll be a fleet."
Circling the crate, John shut her computer and balanced his elbows on it. "Just think, for once the fleet of powerful spaceships descending from the sky will be the good guys," he promised her hopefully. "When we first came to Pegasus, Teyla showed me drawings on the wall of the ruins. The newer ones were all about the Wraith, but some of the older ones showed the Ancients. Atlantis used to be a beacon of hope for this entire galaxy. We can do that. We have three ZPMs, we can fly the city."
Standing up, he looked down at the gate and pictured all the planets he'd been to through it. "You wanted us to set an example," he reminded her, still feeling the passion in her desire to peace. "We're going to be hope," he promised both of them. "Hope with drones and energy weapons."
"Hope with energy weapons?" Elizabeth asked with a smile. Bending down to rescue her dishes from the floor, she stood up. A moment was all she had needed to recover temporarily, at least enough to get to bed.
"I'll get 'em tomorrow," John tilted his head towards the dishes and told her to leave them. "I don't know about you, but I could sleep all day."
"Do you remember what it's like to get enough sleep?" she asked softly, knowing he couldn't answer any more than she could.
"You still doing okay?" John worried, hoping the dark circles beneath her eyes would disappear sooner rather than later.
"I think we could have picked a better time," Elizabeth conceded softly, squeezing his hand in an attempt to stop his worry. "If we, hypothetically, ever do this again, can we pick the part of our lives when no one's trying to wipe us out of existence?"
John pretended to be crushed, lowering his eyes to his boots and refusing to meet her gaze. "So you're saying you don't want another child?"
"No, not that," Elizabeth tried to explain.
He brought up his head, grinning wickedly.
"Someone's always trying to kill us," she realized gently. "Okay...can I have shorter days next time? Maybe an assistant?"
He caught her arm and kissed her cheek. "I know this is terrible, but I hope you know, no one's ever..."
Watching her smile at him slowly didn't help him find the words he wanted. In fact, it make it harder to think.
"...I never thought anyone would do this for me," he stuttered, trying to find a way to explain it better. "I know it's awful for you, I mean, I can't really understand what it's like to feel like you're going to throw up all the time..."
"...it's all right John," she concluded for him, patting his hand as he kept it on her arm. "I'm all right."
"You look like hell," he retorted, wrapping an arm protectively around her back as he started to lead her out of her office.
"You're really not big on the sweet talking, are you?" she teased, trying to turn the subject away from her health.
"Sorry," he replied, wincing playfully when she glared at him.
"Sheppard, can I see you for a moment?" Ronon's voice echoed deeply through the radio. "Teyla and I have something. We need you in the chair room."
John nodded as he replied; "Be right down." He paused, meeting Elizabeth's eyes before he started to apologize.
She stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Go John, I'll see you when you come to bed," she said, understanding completely. "I'm sure it's important."
"You are important," he muttered softly enough that only she could hear him. "I'll be quick."
~*~*~*~*~
"...you want to do what?" John repeated, dumbfounded by Ronon's suggestion.
"The Replicators were built to fight the Wraith," Ronon explained slowly, turning his knife over in his hand as he leaned over the back of the throne chair. "I'm just saying we let them."
"It would not take much to convince the Wraith to attempt to attack Earth," Teyla agreed with Ronon. "They will rush to Earth as soon as I feed them the information."
"Okay," John ran a hand through his hair and paced the perimeter of chair room. "Let me get this straight, you want me to let you tell the Wraith how to increase their hyperdrive, so they can reach Earth."
"Earth's been completely lost to the Replicators," Ronon reminded him firmly. Turning around, he leaned back on the chair lazily. "And the Replicators fight Wraith, so we let 'em. Any chance to diminish the number of Wraith in the galaxy is one we have to take."
"Earth is-" John started nervously, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening.
"Gone," Ronon finished for him. "Dead and gone. If it were Sateda, you wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't hesitate."
"He is right John," Teyla put herself in the way of John's pacing. "Letting the Wraith and Replicators fight it out will reduce the numbers of both of our enemies." Staring into his eyes, she realized how little of his attention was in the room with her. His mind was wandering and he was exhausted. "We will come up with a plan and present it to you and Doctor Weir in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep."
"She keeping you up?" Ronon teased, creeping up behind John so he was surrounded.
"No," he defended himself weakly. Taking the moment to think, John sank to the edge of the chair platform, sighing as he rested his hands on his black pants. "Not really..."
"...but she is sick?" Teyla prodded, bending down to touch his shoulder.
Fidgeting with his bootlaces, John sighed before he looked up. "I don't know how she does it," he said, staring at the floor as he thought. Earth was gone. Nothing he, Rodney, or anyone else could do would bring it back. Standing up, he looked from Ronon to Teyla and nodded.
"It's a good idea," John finally conceded, putting aside the idea that he was letting the Wraith get to Earth. Earth was a smoking ball of rock and all that matters was that he kept the city safe. "Come up with a plan, bring it to me and Elizabeth, I'll make sure we have a staff meeting tomorrow so you can present it."
~*~*~*~*~
She made didn't even make it down the stairs before people needed her. Rodney wanted her to approve Jeannie joining his science team, and let him put her in charge of getting the civilian scientists who had just joined them up to speed. She had just dispatched him, admonishing him for staying up so late when Stackhouse needed to ask about the military situation.
He wanted a listing of all the people still coming from the alpha site on both ships. Some of the SGC personnel had a lot of experience and would be useful on their exploration teams. Integrating them with Pegasus teams was his first priority. After Stackhouse, it was Sergeant Ketterman, who needed to know what kind of schedule she wanted meals to be on for the rest of the week. Her eyes were glazing over and she was so tired she wasn't sure who was talking to her when the next one arrived.
"Elizabeth?" Simon began tentatively. "I thought you'd be in bed."
"Working on it," she replied as she tried to decide if she wanted to listen to what he had to say or not. Leaning towards the latter, Elizabeth stood up. The room swam a little, threatening to leave her vulnerable in front of him. "Can I do something for you?"
"I just..." Simon stopped, realizing how pathetic he must sound. "I just wanted to see how you were. I've been spending time with your surgeon, Carson, and his mother, and I was wondering if your mother was here."
"No," she answered sharply. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Elizabeth sighed and forced herself to be civil. Simon had liked her mother. "She wasn't picked up by the Odyssey."
"God, Elizabeth, I'm sorry..." he exclaimed quickly, trying not to let the loss of yet another person destroy what little confidence he had left. "Are you?"
"I'm all right Simon," she took a step away from the crate holding her computer. "I just haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately." She couldn't tell him. That revelation was better saved for a day when she could tell him politely.
"Are you sure?" he pressed again, studying the greyish cast of her skin with professional concern.
"Though I appreciate it," she forced herself not to snap at him. "My health is really none of your concern."
"I know, I..." Simon started and then sighed heavily. "I just wanted to see someone I knew." He started to walk away, but turned back, testing his luck. "It was wrong of me, to tell you about her."
"I don't think the telling was the part you should be apologizing for," Elizabeth retorted, letting her words sting him. "Telling me about her, whoever she was, was the only right thing you did back on Earth."
"I never got to tell you," Simon began, changing the subject away from his indiscretions. "Your goodbye message..."
"Don't..." Elizabeth warned, raising her hand and trying to shut him down.
"...was beautiful," he finished softly. "I must have watched it, God, hundreds of times. And then, when I was sitting alone in the dark in our living room, I realized that I was in love with the video." Simon blocked the door of her office, keeping her from shoving him aside and ending the conversation. "For more than a year all I had of you were two video tapes. No letters, no phone calls, just two video tapes."
His head dropped and he stopped looking at her face. "I couldn't do that anymore," he offered as a poor excuse. "I wanted to touch someone, to come home and have someone be in my house." He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the shaggy curls. "That wasn't you, even when we were in the same galaxy."
"Now you're being unfair," Elizabeth corrected him mercilessly. "You can't blame this on me. If you wanted to break up with me, you had the chance the moment you saw me again, but you brought me into your house. You made me dinner, acted like nothing had changed-"
"I should have come with you," Simon interrupted.
She dropped her hands to her chest, wrapping them tightly around herself.
"I was afraid of leaving Earth," he admitted when she wouldn't look at him. "You tried to tell me how wondrous this place was. Show me how exciting your life had become, but I couldn't go with you."
"What are you trying to say?" Elizabeth demanded angrily, still feeling rage rush through her body.
"I'm glad I'm here now," he whispered to the floor, still unable to find the strength to meet her eyes.
Her entire body was tight with rage, muscles straining against her skin. Her delicate fingers dug into her arm, crushing the flesh against the bone. "What do you want?"
Simon reached for her, taking a step closer to touch her arm. She didn't retreat as he expected, instead she just stood there letting his hand brush across her cheek. Elizabeth's skin was cold and clammy with exhaustion.
"When's the last time you slept?" Simon asked softly, concern finally breaking through his own thoughts.
"Doesn't matter," Elizabeth replied curtly, slowly removing his hand from her arm. Instead of holding it, she released it, letting it drop to his side. "Are you going to say something?"
"Are you sick Elizabeth?" Simon demanded without listening to her. The signs were there in the glazing of her eyes, and the grayish undertones of her skin. "You're barely standing."
"I'm not sick," she snapped, biting her tongue to make her voice less caustic. He was so close she could smell his cologne and the hint of unwashed skin. Elizabeth held her ground, keeping him from advancing any farther into her office. The scent of him twisted her stomach. She'd gotten used to the practicality of military officers; none of them wore any cologne to offend her newly delicate sense of smell.
"You can't keep your eyes still," Simon corrected her as he watched her struggle to keep her gaze level. "I am a doctor, Elizabeth."
"I just need to go back to my room," she insisted, trying to convince him to let her out of her office. Elizabeth sighed and tried to get past him. Her head pounded as her body protested her abuse. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow?"
"Elizabeth," Simon worried, catching her chin as she tried to leave her office and him behind. Forcing her to meet his gaze, he studied the dark circles in the skin beneath her eyes.
Shuddering involuntarily at the contact, she stared back. "I'm pregnant," she explained finally, watching her revelation cut into his reality.
His hand dropped from her face as if she had suddenly gotten too hot to touch. Simon backed up, inadvertently running the doorway. He turned away, retreating to the catwalk as he tried to pull himself together.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to walk past him, already more than finished with the conversation. Her feet protested along with her legs and it seemed every part of her was united in displeasure.
"I thought you didn't want children," Simon called after her finally.
There was a harshness in his voice she recognized as suffering. Stopping just before she entered the control room, Elizabeth paused thoughtfully. A year ago she would have been pleased to hurt him, considering the way he'd torn her heart out when he'd refused to join the expedition. Turning around to face him, she managed to smile wistfully. "Things change," she answered as she left him on the catwalk. "Like you said, I'm the one who likes to explore new things."
"You're not being fair," Simon complained to the empty air where she had been.
Elizabeth hurried through the control room, more than ready to be out of his sight. Her stomach was threatening rebellion again, and the last thing she was going to let Simon see her be any more vulnerable.
"Wait," he begged, finally catching up to her as she ducked into the transporter. Simon caught the door, keeping it open as he stared her down. "He- Sheppard- he's the father, isn't he?"
Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, Elizabeth didn't have to acknowledge the question. Simon got his answer from the ice in her eyes.
"You were right," she conceded, enjoying the desolate look that overtook his face. "I was gone a long time." The door to the transporter hissed shut, leaving her alone and trembling inside. She had no excuse to behave the way she did. Dropping her head to her hand, she knew she'd regret it eventually, but right now it was something she needed to do. At least, that was what Elizabeth kept telling herself all the way to her quarters.
She looked down at her list on her computer and winced when she pulled at the bandage on her shoulder. The wound from the Replicator mission was still healing. "Please make your way to the balcony and find out when you are scheduled," she instructed the crowd around her. "Sergeants Haley, Kinnonen and Renault will be waiting for you. Thank you again for your patience and cooperation." The group filed out and Teyla nodded to Ronon to send in the next group.
John winced watching her, glad he'd managed to avoid giving the same speech eight times to different groups of civilians. "Maybe we should give them colors," John teased Elizabeth across his plate of Athosian stewed rice, grains, and vegetables the cafeteria was offering as breakfast.
She poked at hers with disinterest and glanced up at him in confusion. "Colors?" she wondered.
"Yeah, civilian group red, blue, green, pink..." John said as he took a bite and glared at her unmoving fork. "That way we can send them places easier."
"Oh," Elizabeth responded softly, catching his look and taking a hesitant bite of her breakfast.
"It's really not bad," John offered with a shrug as he finished off the last of his. "Since you skipped out on the sauce, it should be really bland."
"It is," she agreed, still toying at it with her fork. "I just..."
"I hate to be the voice of reason," John started, leaning back in his chair with his coffee. "But, it's better to eat it and hope you keep it down than to not eat it. Didn't General O'Neill tell you his sister felt better when she ate?"
Elizabeth forced herself to take a bite and smiled as she tried to talk around her food. "How'd you know that?" she demanded with amusement.
"He told me to remind you," John conceded with a wink. "Speaking of the general..." He tilted his head, drawing Elizabeth's attention as he flagged down Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter as they made their way through the crowd. "Carson let you out?" He asked Sam as she sat down with great care.
"On good behavior," Carter grinned playfully as Jack took the chair next to Elizabeth. "I think he was just sick of the general moping around his infirmary."
"I did not mope," Jack corrected her indignantly. "I strutted pompously and looked concerned." He turned from John's empty plate to Elizabeth's full one and gave her a look that would have wilted flowers. "Something wrong with your rice?"
"No," Elizabeth said, embarrassed as Sam and John gave her sympathetic looks.
Jack elbowed her lightly in the side. "The sooner you finish the sooner you can get away from me bothering you," he suggested playfully.
"There's motivation for me," Elizabeth muttered as she looked away from all the eyes on her.
"It's a good motivation, really," Sam added as Jack reached across the table to squeeze her free hand. "He's had years of practice being really annoying."
'Why thank you, Colonel," Jack dropped her hand as if she had burned him and looked indignant. "I've worked hard to become such."
"So how does it feel to be the head of the military?" John teased, drawing the conversation off Elizabeth as she tentatively started to eat.
"Headish?" Jack replied without much thought. "I guess odd, I suppose. Probably about as odd as being head of say, everything..." He turned on Elizabeth, startling her as she took a sip of tea.
"I'm not..." she started to argue, but across the table John nodded.
"Yes, actually," Jack corrected for her. "You are the big cheese around here."
Elizabeth's knuckles whitened as she grabbed her cup a little tighter. Her rice suddenly seemed much less appetizing. She hadn't thought about it, but she'd been left guardian of the remnants of the entire culture of Earth. Beneath the table John's hand brushed her knee; which startled her so badly that she nearly dropped her fork.
"Finish eating," he instructed firmly. Promising with his eyes that she could handle whatever the universe had left for her. "Don't worry about it; we have a lot to do today."
~*~*~*~*~
Her computer screen hurt her eyes. Elizabeth rubbed at her temples, wishing that would help her focus. Dishes from her lunch, and dinner sat on the floor beside the crate she was using as a desk. Writing her speech was incredibly hard. She'd teared up twice trying to finish it and that was probably only adding to her headache. She stretched her arms, feeling the bandage from the blood Carson had taken. His wish for an actual appointment had been put off for another few days until she was less busy. She nearly hated herself for not making the time. There was just so much she needed to do.
Major Lorne knocked on the glass wall and waited for her to look up. A pleasant looking couple stood behind him, probably in their late fifties. The familial resemblance was easy to see in the jaw line of his father and the stunning eyes of his mother. "Doctor Weir?" he began politely. "I hope we're not intruding..."
"Oh no," she said immediately. Closing her eyes as she stood up, Elizabeth put on her best professional smile. "I've afraid I haven't met-"
"-my parents," Lorne introduced proudly. "This is Edmund and Colonel Catherine Lorne."
Edmund's handshake was firm and dry. He had a gentle smile that won her over immediately. Catherine took longer. Her blue eyes sized Elizabeth up, and she felt like she was being judged by her grip.
"You needn't worry about my wife," Edmund promised with that same smile. "The dragon retired from the Marines years ago. My son just likes to point out that he's about to pass her up in rank."
Lorne looked suitably embarrassed, but still beamed at his parents. "They requested a chance to volunteer their services," he explained as he stood behind them. "Mom was a logistics coordination and Dad was an elementary school teacher."
"Always found trucks easier to manage than children," Catherine added to her son's explanation. "I'm going to be helping Evan here keep everyone in order, that's if it's okay with you, Ma'am."
Elizabeth started slightly, unused to being differed to by a woman so much her elder. "I'm sure he'll be happy to have the assistance, thank you," she said graciously. "And you as well, Mr. Lorne, we haven't even begun to think of what we will do with the children of the city." The same cold knot that had taken up permanent residence in the pit of her stomach reminded her that, before she knew it, her child would need schooling.
"Then allow me to volunteer," Edmund said, breaking her out of her reverie. "With your permission, of course, I'll work with my son and the very capable Miss Teyla and come up with a plan."
Elizabeth just nodded; too overwhelmed to be anything but grateful her people were managing to take things out of her hands. "It sounds like a good idea," she replied gratefully. "I'll wish you all luck and let you get on with your work."
"Thank you, Ma'am..." Major Lorne nodded quickly, understanding immediately that she had to get back to her work. "Come on, we all have a lot to get done." He shepherded his parents out of his office, giving her a final embarrassed smile.
Creeping back to her chair, she dropped into it and recollected her computer. Setting aside her speech for the memorial service she tried to focus. What were they going to do? How could she feed eight hundred without constant supplies from Earth? The Athosians had already been so generous with food. How could she ask them for clothing as well? Carson had already mentioned rationing morphine and other precious drugs. The Daedalus had left him their entire supply, but it wasn't much.
Her eyes itched from the strain. The clock on her computer read a quarter after nine. It was so hard to keep track of the time without the sun outside her window. She should go to bed; her body already ached from the twelve hours she'd spent in her office. Her speech still needed work, but it was too hard to write. Closing her eyes only made her think of her mother. Elizabeth couldn't help wondering how she had died; if she had suffered when the fire came down from the sky. From what Caldwell had reported, Earth's demise had been quick.
It was in her dreams, burned into the back of her eyelids. Her mother stood over the stove in the kitchen, looking up just as the window exploded inward in a blast of heat. Her hair erupted into flame and her skin went black. Elizabeth couldn't hear anything except the roaring of her heartbeat in her ears, but her imagination saw everything.
When she shook it away, her hands were still trembling and her t-shirt was damp with sweat. Elizabeth forced herself to turn her attention back to her computer. If she couldn't focus on her speech, she could at least keep working on the manifest. Teyla and Lorne had been good about keeping track of everyone. Many of the refugees from Earth were elderly parents and children. There were significant numbers of younger people, many of the scientists and some of the military personnel had spouses. Most of them had careers.
Teyla and Lorne had already weeded out anyone with medical talent. Beckett had gained three doctors, including Simon. Beside Kate, Atlantis now had two other psychiatrists and a social worker. Some of the refugees had been teachers, even a few college professors. Lorne's father would have many people to organize into a school system.
Again her mind wandered, picturing the children of the city attending classes in some of the empty rooms on the lower level. Would her child have John's eyes? Would he or she like mathematics or art classes? John was very intelligent, no matter how well he hid it. Would that be an advantage? She couldn't picture her child. Elizabeth was still having a hard time getting her mind around the idea of her pregnancy. It was still so intangible. If she didn't know better she'd still be writing off her nausea as a lingering case of the stomach flu.
Three months ago her biggest concern was imminent attack by the Wraith or Replicators. Then it was how to handle a moment's intoxicated indiscretion on an alien planet. Even being banished from Atlantis by the Ancients was easier than this. Remembering that reminded her of her aborted attempt at writing her memoirs. Carson had pointed out she'd never be able to punish them on Earth, but ironically now they were the last link she had. Earth had been her home, once, but the last time she was there all she'd wanted was to get away. Elizabeth fought with her eyes, looking through the screen as she opened her memoirs and started at the beginning. Not at the beginning of her time in Atlantis, but at her very first memory.
She'd been outside, in the garden, waiting for her father to appear over the side of the hedge. She knew his face would eventually erupt from the leaves to surprise her. With all the seriousness of her toddler's mind, she knew her father would appear more than she knew the sun would rise. There was something cathartic about writing down her goodbye to Earth.
~*~*~*~*~
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Simon called as he hurried down the hallway to catch up with the elusive Colonel Sheppard. John ignored him, dipping down a corridor and disappearing into one of those transporters. He'd only met the man briefly yesterday, but it was becoming obvious Sheppard had it in for him. He'd been running an errand for Doctor Beckett, picking up more sutures from the supply storage, the first time he'd passed him in the hallway. He nearly brushed it off when John shot him a glare that would have melted an ice sculpture.
Simon had only caught it out of the corner of his eye. When he looked, John was smiling quietly to himself. He would have put it off as an accidental misunderstanding, but he'd run into the colonel again at lunch. John was picking up two meals, carefully balancing one plate against the other on a silver tray. He'd been behind him in line, waiting for the other man to finish with the offering of sandwiches. John had tripped just at the end, managing to save his tray only by bringing his arm down on Simon's hand.
His plate had gone flying, landing on the floor in a pile. John had apologized very politely, even offered to get someone to help clean it up. He'd refused to do so himself, saying Elizabeth was waiting for her lunch. There was something about the way he said her name; how John lingered over it. He had smiled when he left. He knew something.
Simon found himself finding excuses to talk about Elizabeth. Looking for any excuse to hear what she'd been doing and how extraordinary her life had become. Doctor Beckett was only happy to oblige, sharing stories of heroism that surprised him. He'd known Elizabeth was brave, gutsier than he'd believe, but no one had ever been able to tell him what she did. Everything was always top secret.
"Suppose that doesn't count for much anymore?" Carson asked rhetorically. "No government, no reason to keep anything top secret is there?" He ran his hand thoughtfully across his head, ruffling his brown hair. "Let's see, where was I..."
"...the Genii tried to take over Atlantis," Simon filled in as he organized the pharmaceutical cabinet on the infirmary wall.
"Oh right, right," Carson turned back to his microscope, studying some blood sample he'd been working on all afternoon. "Rodney and Elizabeth were held hostage by this madman, Kolya, while Sheppard ran around killing Kolya's men. Got the bastard right pissed off and killed a full company of his soldiers." Looking up long enough to grin proudly, Carson continued. "So then Kolya tries to grab Elizabeth and take her through the gate. Ford and Sheppard took out most of the guys, but Kolya was left holding Elizabeth-" Carson mimed holding a person to his chest. "He kept going, betting John wouldn't shoot him..."
"...and?" Simon prodded, waiting for the end of the story.
"Bam!" Carson exclaimed proudly. "Rodney said he just shot him, missed Elizabeth entirely and hit Kolya right in the shoulder." He chuckled, remembering Rodney's rendition of the story. "It was a very nice shot." Still smiling, he returned to the microscope. "Damn...would you look at that?" Carson waved Simon over. "Ever done any work with retroviruses?"
"A little..." Simon admitted as he waited for his turn. "What am I looking for?"
"See the protein markers?" Carson coaxed as he brought up the microscope on the display. "The ones I've stained blue are normal, but these..." he indicated the bright green in the blood sample. "...these are the ones altered by the retrovirus. It's specifically changing her DNA, splicing in just this group of cells all over her body."
"That can't be natural," Simon pointed out as Carson showed him the DNA profiles. "The retrovirus would have to be specifically tailored to the subject's own DNA to be this effective."
"Well, you're half-right," Carson explained as he pulled up the fetal blood cells he'd been able to extract from Elizabeth's sample that afternoon. "The subject is nine weeks pregnant and this virus seems to have been generated by the fetus. The genes that are being spliced, here and here..." he indicated more bright green markers, "...were taken from the father's DNA."
"You're telling me someone wrote a virus that takes a specific gene from the father's DNA and writes it into the mother's?" Simon wondered incredulously. "Do you have any idea how complex that would be?"
"Aye," Carson whistled as he shook his head. "I'm setting up the machine to run a full sequence now. Maybe they left us a calling card."
"Or an instruction manual," Simon complained as he stared at the DNA. "Does she have any symptoms? Is this causing any problems for her?"
"Well, no, not outside the ordinary complaints from pregnancy," Carson said as he tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's possible the retrovirus is magnifying her symptoms, so far her nausea and exhaustion have been on the severe side."
"And this gene pattern," Simon folded his arms across his chest and tried to remember everything he had learned so far. "This is the Ancient gene? The one you call ATA?"
"Aye, that's it," Carson agreed, pleased Simon was catching on so quickly. "Whoever designed this, meant it to seed the mother with what we call ATA, or as Elizabeth found in the database, LK476. Now, if the mother has it, since ATA is a dominant trait it would be passed on to all her children. This virus seems to make sure the mother gets it..."
"...that way if she had children with another man, the gene would still be passed on, rather useful if the culture doesn't value monogamy," Simon continued for him. "Have you done any contagion tests? Is this virus being spread around the city? Sanitary conditions can't be the best with so many refugees."
"It doesn't seem to be able to spread..." Carson trailed off as he studied the results in front of him. "I'll try infecting a different blood culture and see if that does anything."
~*~*~*~*~
"Do you miss Earth?" Ronon asked him as he caught up in the hallway.
"Kinda," John replied, shrugging a little as he checked off the rooms that were occupied.
"Atlantis is your home," Ronon answered for him as he fell in step with him. "Earth was just were you came from."
"Don't get me wrong," John said, sticking a note with the name 'Stackhouse' on the room that housed the Colonel and his family. "Earth was a pretty fantastic place. Cars, football, jet airplanes, football, steaks you can't eat in one sitting..."
"...football?" Ronon teased, smiling knowingly. "I miss festivals on Sateda, going to a holiday and knowing why I was there."
"Super Bowl parties..." John added as he nodded in agreement. "Being part of a crowd that's all celebrating the same thing."
"It's pretty rough on your people," Ronon commented as he helped John stick a note with a last name on the next doorway. "Not knowing about the Replicators and suddenly being wiped out. On Sateda we went down fighting."
"I'm sure Earth did too," John sighed, wondering yet again how terrible that final battle had been. What had they done when the drones ran out? "We're not really the type to go quietly."
"Good," Ronon agreed as he took a glance down at John's list. "Any warriors?"
"A few..." John answered without much confidence. "Mostly families."
"Family can be an asset," Ronon pointed out as the corridor curved past the quarters John and Elizabeth made their home. Borrowing a sheet of paper from John's clipboard, Ronon wrote 'WEIR' in large block letters and stuck it on the door with a grin. "You know she's the head of your family."
John shook his head indignantly, starting to chuckle when he realized it was probably true.
"She doing all right?" Ronon asked as they headed onwards. "Throwing up less?"
Now John had to shake his head. "You know, she says she is..."
"...then she isn't," Ronon finished for him. "Weir's like Teyla. She can't stop. She could be dying and she'd drag herself up to help someone else. She's looking for trouble, doing that pregnant."
"I'm open to suggestions," John said helplessly and lowered his clipboard for a moment.
"Tell her you need her," Ronon sagely replied, tossing one of his knives into the air and catching it neatly. "Let her rescue you. Keep her close." He patted John the shoulder, nearly leaving a bruise behind. "Think of yourself as bait. Women love that."
John closed his eyes, rubbing his shoulder and trying to decide if there was merit in what Ronon had said. The guy had been married after all. Glancing down at his watch, he realized it was nearly midnight. She'd still be in her office. Elizabeth wouldn't leave until he carried her out of there, conscious or unconscious. He tucked his work under his arm and headed for the transporter. He was still turning over what to say as the transporter opened onto the control room.
Murphy was there, calm at his place at the console. Zelenka and one of the Japanese scientists were arguing about something at the science station. Neither of them looked up as he passed.
~*~*~*~*~
John was on the catwalk to her office when the voice stopped him. The world darkened around him, as if he was about to sneeze and his eyes were closing.
"It's a heavy burden, isn't it?" Queen Mab began from behind him. "Her shoulders seem a little slight, but perhaps together you're strong enough."
"Who the hell are you?" John snapped, turning around and pulling his sidearm. Even though the city had gone gray around him, she was in full color and obviously responsible.
The Queen smiled calmly as he pointed his pistol at her chest. She'd chosen to appear to him in the simple black dress she'd worn into exile. Her gray and black hair hung heavily over her shoulders onto her chest. "I did so hope she'd tell you," Mab shook her head slowly. "I am Queen Mab, you conceived your child at my festival."
"Okay," John said warily, keeping his gun leveled at her chest. If she was an ancient, a bullet wouldn't hurt her, but it did make him feel safer. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to talk," she offered as she opened her palms in a sign of friendship. "I've already visited your Elizabeth, but I gather she didn't mention it to you."
"She didn't want me to worry," John guessed as he tossed a look back towards Elizabeth in her office. She had her eyes closed and she was clinging to the edges of the crate that served as a desk. As he watched she stood up weakly, her face strained. "Elizabeth?" He kept the gun pointed loosely in Mab's direction, but he backed quickly into her office.
Elizabeth didn't see him. When she opened her eyes, she looked right through him and there was pain in her face.
"Why can't she see me?" he demanded, straightening his hold on the pistol.
Mab walked right up to it, letting him rest the barrel on her chest. "You're out of sync with her reality at the moment," she explained lightly.
"She's in pain," John realized, giving up on the gun as he turned back to Elizabeth. She was still clinging to the crate, as if she couldn't stand on her own. Her eyes twitched and then tightened. "She's in trouble," he worried, whirling back to Mab angrily. "Let me go."
Shaking her head, Mab suddenly grew brighter, as if she had sucked the light from the rest of the room. "I need you to listen to me," Mab commanded, her voice growing deeper as she spoke.
John turned away from her, watching as Elizabeth's skin grew pale. There was sweat on her forehead, catching in her hair. Something was wrong; her knuckles were too white, and she was too unsteady on her feet. "Not now!" he shut her down, feeling something crackle in the air between them. "I need to be with her, so let me go," he growled as rationally as he could.
"Do you know what you're protecting?" Mab asked him softly, teasing him with her voice.
Rushing to Elizabeth, his hands passed through her shoulders. Glaring his fury at Mab, he watched her approach as Elizabeth started to bite her lip. "Let me go," he demanded slowly, feeling the words tear out of his throat. "She needs me."
"My presence causes her pain," Mab explained darkly, moving closer to Elizabeth to prove her point.
Immediately, Elizabeth's eyes widened and one of her hands left the desk to clutch her stomach.
"Then leave!" John lashed out, shouting as his fist slammed into her chin.
To her own surprise, Mab felt blood run down her chin. Staring at it with vague amusement, she smiled at John and backed up a step from Elizabeth. "You are truly intriguing John Sheppard," she said thoughtfully, backing up further to allow Elizabeth the chance to breathe. "And you have no idea what power you hold."
"Just say what you need to say," he surrendered, nervously pacing just behind Elizabeth. She rocked in place, trying to manage the sudden agony in her abdomen. "Dammit, get it over with," John hissed again, clenching his teeth.
"You'd give it all up for her," Mab foretold quietly, still rubbing a trickle of blood from her chin. "Losing Earth didn't faze you; in fact the rest of the universe could fade from existence as long as you have her..."
John ignored her and watched the droplet of sweat race down Elizabeth's temple to catch in a curl of her hair.
"...you value yourself most in service to others but you have no idea what that will demand from you," she continued, as her smile blossomed proudly. "Nor do you care, do you?"
"I need to touch her," John begged but there was an ultimatum in his voice. "Don't make me..."
"Oh my dear Sheppard," Mab replied, cackling with laughter. "How long it's been since I encountered a creature like you. Go, take care of her, but...remember this, if you recall nothing else from our conversation; you know why you were born and why your path has led you to this place. Be strong in your heart."
~*~*~*~*~
Elizabeth was seconds away from calling for help over the radio when the pain stopped. As quickly as it had manifested, it was gone. Bewildered and exhausted she just stood there, resting her weight on her desk until John's hands startled her back to reality.
"You okay?" he asked with deep concern. His forehead was furrowed, tight with worry.
"Where did you?" Elizabeth started to ask before she realized she didn't care. The sudden attack was over and all she felt was numb. "I didn't see you."
"Who's Mab?" John wondered, waiting for her to let him guide her back to the chair.
Elizabeth sighed, feeling the air take the strength to stand out of her body along with it. "She's an Ancient," she responded softly, still clinging to the desk as her muscles started to give out. "She did something to us, made us conceive on Ceol." His hands ran gently down her back, making sure she remained steady. "Did she?"
"Appeared in my head," John answered grimly. "Hateful bitch, isn't she?"
A smile tore at her lips, surprising her slightly. "She's insane, but she's trying to tell us something," Elizabeth explained patiently as she pulled herself up, letting go of the crate that served as her desk. "There's some truth in her ramblings..." She reached for his forehead, trying to smooth the worry with her hand. "I think she's mostly harmless."
"She hurt you," John argued back, unwilling to let the Ancient woman off so easily. "She said her presence causes you pain," he admitted trying to remember anything else Mab had said that was useful.
"That seems to be the case," Elizabeth agreed, groaning slightly as she let him lead her back into the chair.
"Elizabeth?" he warned, still wanting to whisk her off to the infirmary and let Beckett run all the tests he could think of.
"I'm just tired," she offered softly, not quite believing it herself. "It's been a long day." She ran a hand through the curls on her head, letting them fall onto her shoulders. "Hasn't it?"
"Yeah," he agreed with open eyes and a quick nod of his head. "Tomorrow will be better."
"How do you...?"
"I don't know," John teased with a grin. "But it sounds better than worrying tomorrow will be horrible, doesn't it?"
"That's almost sweet," she sighed, leaning her head back against his stomach. Elizabeth closed her eyes, taking in the grounding smell of his skin through his shirt. "I don't know if I can do this," she murmured to his shirt. The fabric was soft, washed too many times already. "How are we going to take care of everyone? Keep them all safe?"
John was quiet as he bent down to kiss the top of her head.
"We don't have any backup," she reminded him darkly. "Hell, John we are the backup. If anything happens now, to the Daedalus or the Odyssey, we have to save them. The Athosians, our trade partners, every village, every town full of innocent people..." overwhelmed by the idea, she trailed off, unable to think about it anymore.
"You know, I hate to ruin the moment," John said lightly, drawing her out of her melancholy. "But we were their best hope before, and if you look on the bright side, we have a flying city now." He pointed to the starscape hanging outside the window. "It took the Wraith hundreds of years to even get the Ancients retreat from this city. We can get rid of the Replicators in less time than that. Think of the tactical advantage, we have McKay, Zelenka, and Carter...with the three of them and a few more stolen Replicator ships we'll be a fleet."
Circling the crate, John shut her computer and balanced his elbows on it. "Just think, for once the fleet of powerful spaceships descending from the sky will be the good guys," he promised her hopefully. "When we first came to Pegasus, Teyla showed me drawings on the wall of the ruins. The newer ones were all about the Wraith, but some of the older ones showed the Ancients. Atlantis used to be a beacon of hope for this entire galaxy. We can do that. We have three ZPMs, we can fly the city."
Standing up, he looked down at the gate and pictured all the planets he'd been to through it. "You wanted us to set an example," he reminded her, still feeling the passion in her desire to peace. "We're going to be hope," he promised both of them. "Hope with drones and energy weapons."
"Hope with energy weapons?" Elizabeth asked with a smile. Bending down to rescue her dishes from the floor, she stood up. A moment was all she had needed to recover temporarily, at least enough to get to bed.
"I'll get 'em tomorrow," John tilted his head towards the dishes and told her to leave them. "I don't know about you, but I could sleep all day."
"Do you remember what it's like to get enough sleep?" she asked softly, knowing he couldn't answer any more than she could.
"You still doing okay?" John worried, hoping the dark circles beneath her eyes would disappear sooner rather than later.
"I think we could have picked a better time," Elizabeth conceded softly, squeezing his hand in an attempt to stop his worry. "If we, hypothetically, ever do this again, can we pick the part of our lives when no one's trying to wipe us out of existence?"
John pretended to be crushed, lowering his eyes to his boots and refusing to meet her gaze. "So you're saying you don't want another child?"
"No, not that," Elizabeth tried to explain.
He brought up his head, grinning wickedly.
"Someone's always trying to kill us," she realized gently. "Okay...can I have shorter days next time? Maybe an assistant?"
He caught her arm and kissed her cheek. "I know this is terrible, but I hope you know, no one's ever..."
Watching her smile at him slowly didn't help him find the words he wanted. In fact, it make it harder to think.
"...I never thought anyone would do this for me," he stuttered, trying to find a way to explain it better. "I know it's awful for you, I mean, I can't really understand what it's like to feel like you're going to throw up all the time..."
"...it's all right John," she concluded for him, patting his hand as he kept it on her arm. "I'm all right."
"You look like hell," he retorted, wrapping an arm protectively around her back as he started to lead her out of her office.
"You're really not big on the sweet talking, are you?" she teased, trying to turn the subject away from her health.
"Sorry," he replied, wincing playfully when she glared at him.
"Sheppard, can I see you for a moment?" Ronon's voice echoed deeply through the radio. "Teyla and I have something. We need you in the chair room."
John nodded as he replied; "Be right down." He paused, meeting Elizabeth's eyes before he started to apologize.
She stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Go John, I'll see you when you come to bed," she said, understanding completely. "I'm sure it's important."
"You are important," he muttered softly enough that only she could hear him. "I'll be quick."
~*~*~*~*~
"...you want to do what?" John repeated, dumbfounded by Ronon's suggestion.
"The Replicators were built to fight the Wraith," Ronon explained slowly, turning his knife over in his hand as he leaned over the back of the throne chair. "I'm just saying we let them."
"It would not take much to convince the Wraith to attempt to attack Earth," Teyla agreed with Ronon. "They will rush to Earth as soon as I feed them the information."
"Okay," John ran a hand through his hair and paced the perimeter of chair room. "Let me get this straight, you want me to let you tell the Wraith how to increase their hyperdrive, so they can reach Earth."
"Earth's been completely lost to the Replicators," Ronon reminded him firmly. Turning around, he leaned back on the chair lazily. "And the Replicators fight Wraith, so we let 'em. Any chance to diminish the number of Wraith in the galaxy is one we have to take."
"Earth is-" John started nervously, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening.
"Gone," Ronon finished for him. "Dead and gone. If it were Sateda, you wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't hesitate."
"He is right John," Teyla put herself in the way of John's pacing. "Letting the Wraith and Replicators fight it out will reduce the numbers of both of our enemies." Staring into his eyes, she realized how little of his attention was in the room with her. His mind was wandering and he was exhausted. "We will come up with a plan and present it to you and Doctor Weir in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep."
"She keeping you up?" Ronon teased, creeping up behind John so he was surrounded.
"No," he defended himself weakly. Taking the moment to think, John sank to the edge of the chair platform, sighing as he rested his hands on his black pants. "Not really..."
"...but she is sick?" Teyla prodded, bending down to touch his shoulder.
Fidgeting with his bootlaces, John sighed before he looked up. "I don't know how she does it," he said, staring at the floor as he thought. Earth was gone. Nothing he, Rodney, or anyone else could do would bring it back. Standing up, he looked from Ronon to Teyla and nodded.
"It's a good idea," John finally conceded, putting aside the idea that he was letting the Wraith get to Earth. Earth was a smoking ball of rock and all that matters was that he kept the city safe. "Come up with a plan, bring it to me and Elizabeth, I'll make sure we have a staff meeting tomorrow so you can present it."
~*~*~*~*~
She made didn't even make it down the stairs before people needed her. Rodney wanted her to approve Jeannie joining his science team, and let him put her in charge of getting the civilian scientists who had just joined them up to speed. She had just dispatched him, admonishing him for staying up so late when Stackhouse needed to ask about the military situation.
He wanted a listing of all the people still coming from the alpha site on both ships. Some of the SGC personnel had a lot of experience and would be useful on their exploration teams. Integrating them with Pegasus teams was his first priority. After Stackhouse, it was Sergeant Ketterman, who needed to know what kind of schedule she wanted meals to be on for the rest of the week. Her eyes were glazing over and she was so tired she wasn't sure who was talking to her when the next one arrived.
"Elizabeth?" Simon began tentatively. "I thought you'd be in bed."
"Working on it," she replied as she tried to decide if she wanted to listen to what he had to say or not. Leaning towards the latter, Elizabeth stood up. The room swam a little, threatening to leave her vulnerable in front of him. "Can I do something for you?"
"I just..." Simon stopped, realizing how pathetic he must sound. "I just wanted to see how you were. I've been spending time with your surgeon, Carson, and his mother, and I was wondering if your mother was here."
"No," she answered sharply. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Elizabeth sighed and forced herself to be civil. Simon had liked her mother. "She wasn't picked up by the Odyssey."
"God, Elizabeth, I'm sorry..." he exclaimed quickly, trying not to let the loss of yet another person destroy what little confidence he had left. "Are you?"
"I'm all right Simon," she took a step away from the crate holding her computer. "I just haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately." She couldn't tell him. That revelation was better saved for a day when she could tell him politely.
"Are you sure?" he pressed again, studying the greyish cast of her skin with professional concern.
"Though I appreciate it," she forced herself not to snap at him. "My health is really none of your concern."
"I know, I..." Simon started and then sighed heavily. "I just wanted to see someone I knew." He started to walk away, but turned back, testing his luck. "It was wrong of me, to tell you about her."
"I don't think the telling was the part you should be apologizing for," Elizabeth retorted, letting her words sting him. "Telling me about her, whoever she was, was the only right thing you did back on Earth."
"I never got to tell you," Simon began, changing the subject away from his indiscretions. "Your goodbye message..."
"Don't..." Elizabeth warned, raising her hand and trying to shut him down.
"...was beautiful," he finished softly. "I must have watched it, God, hundreds of times. And then, when I was sitting alone in the dark in our living room, I realized that I was in love with the video." Simon blocked the door of her office, keeping her from shoving him aside and ending the conversation. "For more than a year all I had of you were two video tapes. No letters, no phone calls, just two video tapes."
His head dropped and he stopped looking at her face. "I couldn't do that anymore," he offered as a poor excuse. "I wanted to touch someone, to come home and have someone be in my house." He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the shaggy curls. "That wasn't you, even when we were in the same galaxy."
"Now you're being unfair," Elizabeth corrected him mercilessly. "You can't blame this on me. If you wanted to break up with me, you had the chance the moment you saw me again, but you brought me into your house. You made me dinner, acted like nothing had changed-"
"I should have come with you," Simon interrupted.
She dropped her hands to her chest, wrapping them tightly around herself.
"I was afraid of leaving Earth," he admitted when she wouldn't look at him. "You tried to tell me how wondrous this place was. Show me how exciting your life had become, but I couldn't go with you."
"What are you trying to say?" Elizabeth demanded angrily, still feeling rage rush through her body.
"I'm glad I'm here now," he whispered to the floor, still unable to find the strength to meet her eyes.
Her entire body was tight with rage, muscles straining against her skin. Her delicate fingers dug into her arm, crushing the flesh against the bone. "What do you want?"
Simon reached for her, taking a step closer to touch her arm. She didn't retreat as he expected, instead she just stood there letting his hand brush across her cheek. Elizabeth's skin was cold and clammy with exhaustion.
"When's the last time you slept?" Simon asked softly, concern finally breaking through his own thoughts.
"Doesn't matter," Elizabeth replied curtly, slowly removing his hand from her arm. Instead of holding it, she released it, letting it drop to his side. "Are you going to say something?"
"Are you sick Elizabeth?" Simon demanded without listening to her. The signs were there in the glazing of her eyes, and the grayish undertones of her skin. "You're barely standing."
"I'm not sick," she snapped, biting her tongue to make her voice less caustic. He was so close she could smell his cologne and the hint of unwashed skin. Elizabeth held her ground, keeping him from advancing any farther into her office. The scent of him twisted her stomach. She'd gotten used to the practicality of military officers; none of them wore any cologne to offend her newly delicate sense of smell.
"You can't keep your eyes still," Simon corrected her as he watched her struggle to keep her gaze level. "I am a doctor, Elizabeth."
"I just need to go back to my room," she insisted, trying to convince him to let her out of her office. Elizabeth sighed and tried to get past him. Her head pounded as her body protested her abuse. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow?"
"Elizabeth," Simon worried, catching her chin as she tried to leave her office and him behind. Forcing her to meet his gaze, he studied the dark circles in the skin beneath her eyes.
Shuddering involuntarily at the contact, she stared back. "I'm pregnant," she explained finally, watching her revelation cut into his reality.
His hand dropped from her face as if she had suddenly gotten too hot to touch. Simon backed up, inadvertently running the doorway. He turned away, retreating to the catwalk as he tried to pull himself together.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to walk past him, already more than finished with the conversation. Her feet protested along with her legs and it seemed every part of her was united in displeasure.
"I thought you didn't want children," Simon called after her finally.
There was a harshness in his voice she recognized as suffering. Stopping just before she entered the control room, Elizabeth paused thoughtfully. A year ago she would have been pleased to hurt him, considering the way he'd torn her heart out when he'd refused to join the expedition. Turning around to face him, she managed to smile wistfully. "Things change," she answered as she left him on the catwalk. "Like you said, I'm the one who likes to explore new things."
"You're not being fair," Simon complained to the empty air where she had been.
Elizabeth hurried through the control room, more than ready to be out of his sight. Her stomach was threatening rebellion again, and the last thing she was going to let Simon see her be any more vulnerable.
"Wait," he begged, finally catching up to her as she ducked into the transporter. Simon caught the door, keeping it open as he stared her down. "He- Sheppard- he's the father, isn't he?"
Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, Elizabeth didn't have to acknowledge the question. Simon got his answer from the ice in her eyes.
"You were right," she conceded, enjoying the desolate look that overtook his face. "I was gone a long time." The door to the transporter hissed shut, leaving her alone and trembling inside. She had no excuse to behave the way she did. Dropping her head to her hand, she knew she'd regret it eventually, but right now it was something she needed to do. At least, that was what Elizabeth kept telling herself all the way to her quarters.