John was frozen in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop staring at the lone figure sitting on a bench in a wild-looking garden. The dress she wore was the same one she’d worn the day she bade them all farewell and vanished through the Stargate, the one the color of wine.
How was this possible? How could she have returned? Why had she returned here of all places, on the planet of former Lord Protectors that was now ruled by a governing council of representatives of all the villages? Was it really her, or just a woman with a close resemblance?
It certainly appeared to be her. John would recognize those beautiful curls anywhere, falling loose from her head and below her shoulders, though they did lift slightly in the breeze.
He shook his head. Losing her had turned his life upside down. Now had she possibly come back to do so again?
His day had started off simply enough. The people of the Tower were due for a periodical visit, and even though John had little desire to have all the women of their court stand around and stare at him like he was their last meal, he volunteered his team to go. Maybe it was the desire to put a little distance between him and Atlantis after the whole alternate reality thing, or maybe he was just restless. He was even willing to put up with Rodney’s constant complaining at having to leave the study of several pieces of Ancient technology in Radek’s ‘barely-competent hands’.
When they’d arrived, the ruling council, including Sir Eldred and his cousin, Lady Petra, all looked quite startled to see them. They’d claimed that they were just about to activate the Gate to request their presence.
“Why?” Ronon asked, suddenly suspicious.
The two cousins glanced at one another for a brief moment. A silent communication passed between them, though what it was John couldn’t identify, before they turned back to them.
“Several weeks ago,” Petra began, “a woman unknown to us appeared not far from the Tower. She was found by one of the patrolling constables and though there was no obvious sign of injury on her, she would not awaken. The constable brought her here for our physicians to examine and they too could find nothing amiss.”
“Within a few days,” Eldred continued, sitting down in his council seat and motioning them all to take seats around the large round table, “she did wake, but had few clear memories of who she was or where she came from. We knew from her clothing that she was not of our people, for the fabric was unlike any we or our weavers have ever seen. Lady Mara was rather interested in her case and insisted that she remain here with us until she could regain her lost memories.”
For a few moments, there was silence and the team glanced at one another. “That is most unfortunate,” Teyla said at last, “but what does she have to do with us?”
The two council members didn’t look directly at them. Eldred took a sip from the goblet of wine before he took up the story again.
“Since the woman had no name that she could recall at the time, we gave her the name of Gretta until she or anyone who might know her could inform us otherwise,” he informed us. “As the days passed, she began to recall small things, such as what foods she liked.” He looked up at them seriously. “But it was at night, when she slept, that her memories came out of their slumber.”
“Lady Mara and her companions took turns watching over her during the night, and they all wrote down what they could hear Gretta mutter in her sleep,” Petra broke in. “They all found it to be mostly the same words, with but a few differences.” The young woman turned her gaze on John and he immediately stiffened under her firm gaze.
“Your name has been frequent among her dreams, Colonel,” she told him quietly. “Nearly every night she has said things such as ‘John Sheppard’ and ‘Atlantis’, and many other things. Most of them we do not recognize, but they are no doubt significant to someone.”
John stared at them. “How can you be totally sure she didn’t just hear about me during the whole mess with Otho? She could have fell and hit her head, lost her memory…”
“I assure you, Colonel,” Petra cut him off, “we did consider that. Until just yesterday evening, that is, when Gretta finally recalled several new pieces of her life before. She recalled a golden timepiece with a chain attached to it, which she was certain held some great importance in some way. And… she recalled her name. She said she was Elizabeth Weir.”
It hadn’t taken long for John to insist on seeing her, hardly daring to believe, to hope… Petra had led him to the entrance of the garden where the amnesiac spent much of her time. When he had laid eyes on her, he just froze. He didn’t even notice that Petra had excused herself and left.
He couldn’t believe it. It was her. No one could look so much like her. She had been away so long he had begun to believe she would never come back. That the lure of all she could learn as one of the Ascended would make life as a normal, everyday human would seem trivial and insignificant in comparison.
John watched her stand up from the stone bench she had been sitting on. He watched her glance around at the plants while running a hand lightly over the bodice of her dress. When she turned around to walk towards the doorway he stood in, it was she who froze as their gazes locked.
Now, for a single moment, neither of them could move. Until she took a single, unsteady step back, a flicker of fear crossing her features. That finally stirred him into action.
He moved forward slowly, reaching out a hand instinctively. “No, wait,” he called softly. “Don’t go… Elizabeth.”
John could hear her sharp intake of breath. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, clearly concentrating. “I… I know you,” she murmured so quietly he could barely hear her. Slowly, he inched forward.
“That’s right,” he assured her. “You do.”
“John… John Sheppard.”
“Yes, and you are Elizabeth Weir,” he added, suddenly feeling desperate. He wanted, no, needed to hear her confirm it. To prove that he wasn’t dreaming yet again of something he could never have.
But she didn’t, just kept gazing at him, her eyes almost vacant. “You… you’re important,” she whispered. “You can’t… must not walk alone… walk with you…” She then started blinking rapidly, as though trying to clear her thoughts, and she concentrated on him again.
“You are John… and I am Elizabeth.” Her gaze softened slightly. “I… missed you.”
John couldn’t stand it. Something inside him was wound so tightly that he had no way of stopping himself from reaching out to her almost blindly, frantically seeking her touch, to give him that one last confirmation that she was truly there.
She didn’t appear to mind. With an abrupt, wicked twinkle in her eyes reminiscent of her before this all had happened, she took his hand and permitted him to crush her against his chest and bury his face in her red-brown curls.
His first thought, strangely enough, was that she smelled of the salty, ocean air on Atlantis. He knew it was ridiculous, as she hadn’t been on Atlantis since… wait. She had been there at least once since her Ascension, that one night when she promised to sit with him until he fell asleep. A promise she had kept. He never even sensed or noticed her leave him. And there had been other times when he had felt the atmosphere within the city change, almost as though he was being watched…
A muted gasp and Rodney’s voice loudly demanding to know what was going on broke through his thoughts and John couldn’t help but laugh a little wildly. He pulled back slightly to stare down at her and found her smiling slightly.
“That voice,” she said, “I know who that is…”
John couldn’t help but grin. Clasping her hand in his own, he laughed. “Yeah, and you’ll probably be wondering why you missed it soon enough.”
He watched her stare up at him, her expression becoming serious. “John… some of what I already remember… it’s important. It’s about the Wraith and the… someone else… but I can’t -”
“You will,” he cut her off. “I’ll help,” he told her. “We all will.”
Rapid footsteps approached their position, but still neither moved. “Thank you,” she breathed, and then turned to face the incredulous group that now stood before them.
John watched as Teyla reached out tentatively toward Elizabeth, her face the very picture of awe. Rodney’s jaw was practically on the ground, and even Ronon’s normally inscrutable expression was an easy read.
He listened to his teammates speak to Elizabeth with growing excitement, watched Teyla do the most impulsive thing he’d ever seen her do when she reached out and hugged the other woman tightly. Elizabeth’s beautiful laughter sounded like the wind chimes on their balcony.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A figure in white, from what he could make out. And yet, when John turned to look more closely, there was no one standing against a backdrop of untamed greenery.
He blinked. He could have sworn…
“John?”
He turned back to see Elizabeth smiling at him quizzically. She and the others were starting to move back inside the tower. “Are you coming with us?” she asked.
Shaking himself, he brushed off what he’d thought he’d seen and focused on the one who was actually before him. “Yeah,” he answered, “I’m coming.”
He followed the rest of them, feeling as though a huge, crushing weight had just been lifted from his chest. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Elizabeth was coming home.
How was this possible? How could she have returned? Why had she returned here of all places, on the planet of former Lord Protectors that was now ruled by a governing council of representatives of all the villages? Was it really her, or just a woman with a close resemblance?
It certainly appeared to be her. John would recognize those beautiful curls anywhere, falling loose from her head and below her shoulders, though they did lift slightly in the breeze.
He shook his head. Losing her had turned his life upside down. Now had she possibly come back to do so again?
His day had started off simply enough. The people of the Tower were due for a periodical visit, and even though John had little desire to have all the women of their court stand around and stare at him like he was their last meal, he volunteered his team to go. Maybe it was the desire to put a little distance between him and Atlantis after the whole alternate reality thing, or maybe he was just restless. He was even willing to put up with Rodney’s constant complaining at having to leave the study of several pieces of Ancient technology in Radek’s ‘barely-competent hands’.
When they’d arrived, the ruling council, including Sir Eldred and his cousin, Lady Petra, all looked quite startled to see them. They’d claimed that they were just about to activate the Gate to request their presence.
“Why?” Ronon asked, suddenly suspicious.
The two cousins glanced at one another for a brief moment. A silent communication passed between them, though what it was John couldn’t identify, before they turned back to them.
“Several weeks ago,” Petra began, “a woman unknown to us appeared not far from the Tower. She was found by one of the patrolling constables and though there was no obvious sign of injury on her, she would not awaken. The constable brought her here for our physicians to examine and they too could find nothing amiss.”
“Within a few days,” Eldred continued, sitting down in his council seat and motioning them all to take seats around the large round table, “she did wake, but had few clear memories of who she was or where she came from. We knew from her clothing that she was not of our people, for the fabric was unlike any we or our weavers have ever seen. Lady Mara was rather interested in her case and insisted that she remain here with us until she could regain her lost memories.”
For a few moments, there was silence and the team glanced at one another. “That is most unfortunate,” Teyla said at last, “but what does she have to do with us?”
The two council members didn’t look directly at them. Eldred took a sip from the goblet of wine before he took up the story again.
“Since the woman had no name that she could recall at the time, we gave her the name of Gretta until she or anyone who might know her could inform us otherwise,” he informed us. “As the days passed, she began to recall small things, such as what foods she liked.” He looked up at them seriously. “But it was at night, when she slept, that her memories came out of their slumber.”
“Lady Mara and her companions took turns watching over her during the night, and they all wrote down what they could hear Gretta mutter in her sleep,” Petra broke in. “They all found it to be mostly the same words, with but a few differences.” The young woman turned her gaze on John and he immediately stiffened under her firm gaze.
“Your name has been frequent among her dreams, Colonel,” she told him quietly. “Nearly every night she has said things such as ‘John Sheppard’ and ‘Atlantis’, and many other things. Most of them we do not recognize, but they are no doubt significant to someone.”
John stared at them. “How can you be totally sure she didn’t just hear about me during the whole mess with Otho? She could have fell and hit her head, lost her memory…”
“I assure you, Colonel,” Petra cut him off, “we did consider that. Until just yesterday evening, that is, when Gretta finally recalled several new pieces of her life before. She recalled a golden timepiece with a chain attached to it, which she was certain held some great importance in some way. And… she recalled her name. She said she was Elizabeth Weir.”
It hadn’t taken long for John to insist on seeing her, hardly daring to believe, to hope… Petra had led him to the entrance of the garden where the amnesiac spent much of her time. When he had laid eyes on her, he just froze. He didn’t even notice that Petra had excused herself and left.
He couldn’t believe it. It was her. No one could look so much like her. She had been away so long he had begun to believe she would never come back. That the lure of all she could learn as one of the Ascended would make life as a normal, everyday human would seem trivial and insignificant in comparison.
John watched her stand up from the stone bench she had been sitting on. He watched her glance around at the plants while running a hand lightly over the bodice of her dress. When she turned around to walk towards the doorway he stood in, it was she who froze as their gazes locked.
Now, for a single moment, neither of them could move. Until she took a single, unsteady step back, a flicker of fear crossing her features. That finally stirred him into action.
He moved forward slowly, reaching out a hand instinctively. “No, wait,” he called softly. “Don’t go… Elizabeth.”
John could hear her sharp intake of breath. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, clearly concentrating. “I… I know you,” she murmured so quietly he could barely hear her. Slowly, he inched forward.
“That’s right,” he assured her. “You do.”
“John… John Sheppard.”
“Yes, and you are Elizabeth Weir,” he added, suddenly feeling desperate. He wanted, no, needed to hear her confirm it. To prove that he wasn’t dreaming yet again of something he could never have.
But she didn’t, just kept gazing at him, her eyes almost vacant. “You… you’re important,” she whispered. “You can’t… must not walk alone… walk with you…” She then started blinking rapidly, as though trying to clear her thoughts, and she concentrated on him again.
“You are John… and I am Elizabeth.” Her gaze softened slightly. “I… missed you.”
John couldn’t stand it. Something inside him was wound so tightly that he had no way of stopping himself from reaching out to her almost blindly, frantically seeking her touch, to give him that one last confirmation that she was truly there.
She didn’t appear to mind. With an abrupt, wicked twinkle in her eyes reminiscent of her before this all had happened, she took his hand and permitted him to crush her against his chest and bury his face in her red-brown curls.
His first thought, strangely enough, was that she smelled of the salty, ocean air on Atlantis. He knew it was ridiculous, as she hadn’t been on Atlantis since… wait. She had been there at least once since her Ascension, that one night when she promised to sit with him until he fell asleep. A promise she had kept. He never even sensed or noticed her leave him. And there had been other times when he had felt the atmosphere within the city change, almost as though he was being watched…
A muted gasp and Rodney’s voice loudly demanding to know what was going on broke through his thoughts and John couldn’t help but laugh a little wildly. He pulled back slightly to stare down at her and found her smiling slightly.
“That voice,” she said, “I know who that is…”
John couldn’t help but grin. Clasping her hand in his own, he laughed. “Yeah, and you’ll probably be wondering why you missed it soon enough.”
He watched her stare up at him, her expression becoming serious. “John… some of what I already remember… it’s important. It’s about the Wraith and the… someone else… but I can’t -”
“You will,” he cut her off. “I’ll help,” he told her. “We all will.”
Rapid footsteps approached their position, but still neither moved. “Thank you,” she breathed, and then turned to face the incredulous group that now stood before them.
John watched as Teyla reached out tentatively toward Elizabeth, her face the very picture of awe. Rodney’s jaw was practically on the ground, and even Ronon’s normally inscrutable expression was an easy read.
He listened to his teammates speak to Elizabeth with growing excitement, watched Teyla do the most impulsive thing he’d ever seen her do when she reached out and hugged the other woman tightly. Elizabeth’s beautiful laughter sounded like the wind chimes on their balcony.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A figure in white, from what he could make out. And yet, when John turned to look more closely, there was no one standing against a backdrop of untamed greenery.
He blinked. He could have sworn…
“John?”
He turned back to see Elizabeth smiling at him quizzically. She and the others were starting to move back inside the tower. “Are you coming with us?” she asked.
Shaking himself, he brushed off what he’d thought he’d seen and focused on the one who was actually before him. “Yeah,” he answered, “I’m coming.”
He followed the rest of them, feeling as though a huge, crushing weight had just been lifted from his chest. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Elizabeth was coming home.