I write, I draw, I...compute, I do maths, blah blah. Focusing on that first point. I write. A lot. All the time I write. I'm not particularly great at it (spelling is pretty dodgy), and I have this HORRIBLE habit of starting and never finishing. So I feel if I post this one (incidently the first Atlantis fic I've done) then I might be in with a better chance of actually finishing it.
Rating: I'd say PG, but there is indications of some rather disturbing stuff later on.
Summary: Set a year or so after season 3, the team go on an away mission which changes Elizabeth's life forever.
Spoilers: None really, but I'll post warnings in due course.
Notes: If I ever post this anywhere, comments would be really great.
Fic: Started in my lecture 20/10/06, 9.10am-ish…shoulda’ been taking lecture notes…
“Elizabeth! Doctor Weir, can you hear me?...I can’t wake her, she’s out cold...”
She could feel a pair of warm hands on her arm. Only then did it strike her how cold she was. There were voices around her but in her groggy state, she couldn’t discern one from the other. Until…
“Elizabeth, it’s me,” whispered a voice softly beside her left ear, “it’s John…”
In that miniscule second, Elizabeth felt her heart drop. As things became familiar, the sinking feeling within her worsened and despite not knowing why at first, the moment she opened her eyes, she remembered it all.
“She’s coming around…”
John Sheppard looked up from the book he held in his hands. His eyes darted over towards Doctor Beckett, but quickly fell onto the woman lying in front of him. Her eyes were fluttering, and he could see her hands gripping the bed covers by her sides.
“It’s all right, Elizabeth. You’re in sick bay.”
When her eyes finally opened properly, she came to suddenly and pushed herself upright, though not having enough energy to do so; she instead slipped back down into her previous position. Seeing the pained look on her face, John leaned forward and quickly caught her under her arms.
“Whaw, take it easy there. You’ve had a rough day…”
Taking suggestion in his words – or whether she just didn’t have enough energy to fight back – Elizabeth lay back down and brought a hand up to her face. John realised then that he still had his hands wrapped around her sides and he pulled away coyly, but she didn’t seem to notice. At this point Carson came over and began busying himself with scans and readings, a task which John was only vaguely aware of him performing.
“Well, apart from some cuts and bruises, you seem to be fine, Doctor Weir. How do you feel?”
Beneath him, she stirred only slightly, hand still pressed against her forehead.
“I feel…fine, doctor, thank you.”
John never once took his eyes off of her as she retried for a sitting position: successfully this time.
“I’m glad,” Carson went on, though John wasn’t convinced. “But I want you to remain here until I’m sure you are perfectly fine.”
And when Elizabeth didn’t object, John knew there was something wrong.
The room was quiet when Teyla entered. "Doctor Weir?"
Moving slowly and unsteadily through the darkness towards the only source of visible light, she grasped the dinner tray which she carried closer into her body. On entering the bedroom - after having seen no signs of life in the main living area - Teyla came across a sight which almost made her drop her tray in her hands.
Elizabeth Weir was there in her bed as expected, except her demeanour was most certainly not that which Teyla had expected. She was sitting atop the bedcovers, knees at her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. She didn't look up as Teyla entered, which worried the Athosian even more.
Teyla's heart was in her mouth as she lay the tray on the shelf and quickly moved over towards her friend.
"Elizabeth, what is the matter?"
Reaching out, she took the woman's hand, but Elizabeth recoiled as she did so.
"Teyla! I didn't hear you come in."
As she spoke, Elizabeth swiftly moved out of her previous position, but her tearstained cheeks made it more obvious to Teyla that something wasn't right. While she stood up and straightened herself out, Teyla watched her with acute concern.
"You do not need to hide-" she began, but was cut off.
"How did you get in?"
Elizabeth's tone wasn't accusatory, but Teyla suddenly felt awkward; never having been used to seeing her friend so vulnerable. She glanced around the room momentarily, only briefly registering how untidy it was, before moving across to the meal tray and forcing a smile.
”Your door was unlocked, and I was sent by Doctor Beckett,” she added. Beckett had asked her to check in on Elizabeth, and take along a ”wee spot of dinner”, which at the time had seemed entirely sensible, though now seeing Doctor Weir’s expression Teyla felt she may have been better to display a sense of indescresion. For one of the only times Teyla had seen her looking this way, Elizabeth seemed to be torn somewhere between shouting and crying. It was unnerving.
But, as ever, her commanding officer's response was that of a cool and collected diplomat.
”Well thank you, Teyla,” she said kindly, taking the tray from Teyla’s hand and smiling gently, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, was happening, or was yet to happen.
”Doctor Weir, I am concern-”
”-this looks delicious.” Surveying the dish, Elizabeth gave Teyla another smile before climbing back into bed and laying it on the side table. ”Though to be honest I’m not very hungry at the moment. Tell Doctor Beckett I’ll eat it later, and I’ll stop by sick bay in the morning.”
Teyla stood stunned for a moment, with her mouth slightly agape simply watching Elizabeth who was acting as normal as ever.
”Very well,” she answered a few moments later, onced it was clear she had overstayed her welcome. ”I will see you tomorrow.”
With that, she turned and left. The fact that she heard the bedroom door lock behind her worried Teyla even more.