Stargate Atlantis: Even in the Distance
by Reyclou

Chapter Thirteen: Welcome Dawn

It didn't surprise Elizabeth that some of the society's previous ruling class still remained in some form of power in the absence of the Protectorate. While Sheppard's team had thrown the planet's government system on its ear, Elizabeth did not think the ensuing revolution was as bitter and bloody as the now ex-nobles would have her believe. The villagers seemed a kind, compassionate people—people of tradition who did not idly throw aside their old ways. What shouldn't have surprised her was the sharp, shrill cry that echoed through the duplicate Gatetrium when her team wheeled in the battered body of John Sheppard. The colonel definitely had friends among the new ruling class—after all, John's team had inspired them to the very revolt that now empowered them. She just hadn't expected that he still had—how had McKay put it? Girlfriends in high places? Still, before Elizabeth could even sputter a rushed greeting, a woman with blonde curls and teary brown eyes scuttled away from the assembled confusion to stand at John's side.

At first, Elizabeth suspected the new ruling class of villagers, now led by Eldred and several other village elders, had let the woman remain on the sheer basis of her radiant looks. However, after spending time in the young woman's company, Elizabeth discovered Mara to be quite the kind, sociable young lady—if a little frail and wimpy at times. Whether this was her natural disposition or a result of her sudden social upheaval Elizabeth did not know, but Mara tended faithfully to the team's every whim, especially in matters directly concerning the colonel.

In fact, she and her people were more than willing to assist in the desperate struggle for the colonel's life. Most knew little to nothing of the city's capabilities—only what their history books had recorded of their former Lord Protectors. Without a charged ZPM, much of the technology that had made the Lord Protectors so feared and respected now lay dormant and silent. Even then, most of the inhabitants of Atlantis' sister city cared more about farming than Ancient technology. Some took it as a learning experience, working side by side with McKay, Zelenka, and the rest of the scientific team, but most stood back and marveled at the magic the scientists called forth from the ruins of the Ancestors.

On the other hand, convincing the Lantean team that they were not living out some morbid dream took a little doing. Carson, his rich brogue thickened with nervous confusion, spent the first few hours muttering to himself in utter shock. His medical team wanted nothing more than to rip open the Ancient stasis pod and wrap the colonel head to toe in balm and medical gauze. It took all of Elizabeth's skills to convince them to wait it out, that the stasis pod kept him in better health than their comparatively primitive means. Elizabeth understood their frustration—knowing their own medical technologies fell far short of the Lanteans' did not easily combat the instinct to do something, anything, to help their comrade. Watching the science team take charge of a medical situation, namely hooking up the stasis pod to the ailing city, was an exercise in anxiety for the medical team. For the most part, Carson's medical team waited on the sidelines as McKay and Zelenka strove to breathe life into the buried city.

The scientific team, in contrast, had their hands full just trying to get the city up and running again. Between centuries of dust, clutter, cobwebs and the eons without the protection of an energy shield, much of the city had fallen to the unrelenting siege of time. More than once, Rodney doubted his wisdom in dragging them all so far away from home. He never admitted these feelings—certainly not in front of his team—but Elizabeth had learned to sense the scientist better than most. Yet she still chose to believe in him and his skills and his will. When she learned of the rampant earthquakes that plagued the depths of the city, she chose to believe in him. When no wise Ancient artificial intelligence could be raised through the city's central command, she chose to believe in him. When Rodney's team expressed concern that their own lack of understanding of the intricate medical technology could damn the colonel as easily as it could free him, she still chose to believe in him. When Rodney told her he had to pull the colonel out of stasis in order to revive him, she had no choice but to believe in him.

When John's vital signs plummeted shortly thereafter, she had nothing else left to believe in, except that hers was the best team in two galaxies. Rodney's team worked tirelessly into the night. Night turned to day and day turned to night—the airman never waking from his silent rest.

None of his team gave up hope for an instant. Even when duty called them back to Atlantis, dedication drew them back to the colonel's vigil below their sister city. Elizabeth always found the man in good company—Teyla, Ronon, Mara and a small host of the Lantean military took shifts at his side. Many even took to sleeping in makeshift cots and stretchers set up around the colonel's chamber. Out of some unspoken respect, Elizabeth was always granted the spot nearest the slumbering pilot. Tonight, she curled herself up in a large wooden chair that could have been a small throne at some point in its life, nodding between the conscious world and the world of blurred dreams. Her chair felt a little stiff and uncomfortable to sleep in, but the plush velvet seat beat the hell out of the little wooden stools the natives provided and the soft blanket around her shoulders kept the chilly night away. A subtle rumbling pulled her upright from the grips of sleep. Looking off across the room, she noted McKay and Zelenka slumped shoulder to shoulder, both unconscious and McKay snoring every so often. The woman held back a tired giggle. She wished she had a camera.

Sighing softly, Elizabeth shifted in her chair, trying to find a less uncomfortable position. As she adjusted the blanket about her shoulders, she caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye and, stunned, turned her eyes on the Ancient pod. Had something moved, or was her frazzled mind playing tricks on her? Elizabeth waited in the still of the night, watching the pod like a hawk.

Moments passed and John's face twitched at the corner of his eye. His shallow breathing startled, interrupted for a moment, and then returned after a coarse cough. The capsule deafened most of the sound, but the coughing could have been a hail of trumpets for all Elizabeth cared—it was the first sign of life she had seen from him since they had left Atlantis. Suddenly forgetting all inklings of sleep, the woman threw back her blankets and rushed to the pod. Dark, searing wounds still scarred his form but already they bore the pinkish tinge of mending flesh. Dark lashes parted and hazel eyes again dawned on the waking world. She tried to say something encouraging, but managed only a wide smile with trembling lips. Warm tears trickled down her face, but these were good tears, tears of joy after rivers of heartache. Elizabeth placed a hand on glass, unable to speak.

Slowly, rough hewn hands lifted from Sheppard's side to meet hers, nothing but a half inch of glass between them. "Liz…a…beth..."

She saw more than heard his whisper, but her reply mattered little. Another precious moment passed and he left again, pulled back behind the veil of slumber. He did not wake again that night, but it was all Elizabeth needed to breathe easier from that moment on.

oOo

Time wandered on and Elizabeth found herself more at ease with the new city, with its people. She often found herself enjoying the other city's vista alone almost as often as she sat with the others at John's bedside. He grew stronger every day. He no longer needed the pod to sustain his life—he could eat and breathe on his own now—and Carson felt confident what wounds remained would heal in their own in time. Life could begin again.

She had discovered the balcony shortly after that sleepless night beside his capsule. Now well into the spring season, the land sprawled out before her in shades of vibrant green. Elizabeth found it oddly refreshing to stand on that balcony and survey not the ripples of endless water, but an ocean of swaying branches and swirling drifts of chirping birds. The sun rose over the distant horizon, painting the sky with shades of miracles. It felt both new and strangely familiar. While she knew her team had to soon depart, she felt somehow loathe to leave all this.

The door to her back swished open softly and the sound of heavy boots alerted her to an airman's presence.

"Everyone is just about packed up," Lorne stated. "There was an incident off-world, some of our allies on M24-797 are requesting aide. I need to get back to the city right away."

"Why, what happened?"

"A Culling, ma'am," Lorned replied, then added a soft, "on 895." His eyes dropped as he explained. "Some of the inhabitants escaped to 797, but now they're causing trouble. It doesn't surprise me, really. Isolationist types don't usually play well with others. Still, I guess the sad part is they might have been okay if they hadn't already set their land ablaze. The firestorm might have covered their tracks in a Culling… but who's to say, really…"

"Thank you, Major," she said, dismissing him, but called to him again as he turned to leave. "Major, have we heard anything from Atlantis," Elizabeth asked, and at the major's confused look added, "I mean, Atlantis. McKay's program?"

Understanding now, Lorne shook his head in remorse. "The science team we sent down found some blown circuits in the lab McKay was working in. If there was an artificial intelligence stored in that control cluster, they'll have a heck of a time setting it up again."

Elizabeth frowned. Atlantis did say it would tax her processes, but would she sacrifice herself to save John? "Thank you, Major." She nodded, sending the airman on his way. "I still have a few things to wrap up here. These people have been more than kind to us, I want to make sure we give them proper recompense."

"Alright, Ma'am," He grinned boyishly. "We'll keep the light on for you."

Elizabeth slipped him a modest smile before the Major turned and disappeared back into the city. The woman again looked over the sprawling landscape, envisioning where each spire used to stand. She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or laugh. It felt like an age of slow torture had ended as her tired team readied to depart for home. On the bright side, the ordeal had strengthened their friendship with their new allies, though she'd wished the treaty could have been tested on happier grounds. Still, she breathed in a deep sigh of chilly spring air and breathed out all the emptiness, worry, and anxiety that had twisted her nerves for the last few weeks. A strong breeze took her by surprise and Elizabeth bristled. She had left her jacket inside with the rest of her things and shivered involuntarily at its chilly touch.

She hadn't heard the door open, but knew she wasn't alone when she felt warmth encircle her. Someone wrapped a jacket over her slender shoulders. Elizabeth pulled it close, drowning in the heavy grey and black. She did not waver as John leaned on the rail beside her.

Elizabeth looked up to meet a flawless smile and, for the first time in a long time, actually chuckled. "You gave us quite a scare back there."

John scratched his ear. "I gave myself quite a scare," he replied, looking out over the rustling trees. "I mean, I spent my life fighting to stay alive, but part of being a good soldier is coming to terms with your own mortality," he paused for a time. "You could say I've already been there and done that, but it doesn't get easier."

"There's nothing wrong with holding onto the world, John," she soothed.

"The world?" the colonel questioned, raising a brow. "All this destruction, war, disease, chaos—who needs it?" He shook his head as he stared out over the rustling branches. "Nah. It wasn't the world I was holding on to."

Elizabeth cocked her head toward him. "Then what kept you?" She asked softly.

John gave her a puppy-like pout that held just a hint of deviousness. "I didn't get my five minutes."

"Oh really?" Elizabeth stuck her tongue firmly in check. "And what did you have to say that was so important?"

Cautiously, John looked around, as if to ensure no one was listening. He leaned toward her, dropping his voice so low she had to lean in to hear him. He waited for perfect silence to speak again. "First, I have to ask you something."

Elizabeth straightened, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

John continued in his normal, almost joking tone. "I shared a neural link with the city, but it wasn't exactly a fifty-fifty deal. I actually can't remember a whole lot of what went on outside of—how should I say?—my conscious being? Anyway, there was something about Atlantis invading your dreams or something?"

"Oh… That." For some reason, Elizabeth felt the urge to blush. "She was just trying to communicate with me," the woman explained quickly. "I guess she just couldn't talk to me like she could to you."

John searched her with his voice, sounding skeptical. "So, it was no big thing? She didn't, you know, put you through any undue stress or rewire your brain funny or anything?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly fine," she insisted.

"You're okay? You're sure?" John tested.

"Scout's honor."

"Good," John smiled, almost nervously, as he shifted his weight into hers. "Or else this would have been really awkward." The breeze blew Elizabeth's hair back as John leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Ripples of ecstasy ravaged her senses as she suddenly discovered every blessed muscle in the man's tongue. Surprised, she let his sweet warmth flow into her for a time, until shock and civility forced her to pull back from his embrace.

"John," she blurted, restraining her voice to a harsh, driving whisper. "We can't-"

"Do this?" He finished. "Of course we can't, not right now. I just couldn't have you thinking I'm a lousy kisser." He strode forward, again taking her into a close embrace. He spoke in hushed tones, his warm breath on her cheek. "You and I are going to go back to Atlantis like nothing happened. I'll go back to kicking Wraith ass, you'll go back to making Kavanaugh cry himself to sleep. We'll sweep it under the carpet, just like we've always done. But you listen to me! Someday, we are going to turn this galaxy upside down. We are going to put an end to the Wraith, once and for all. I will bring you the heads of every Hive Queen in this galaxy if I have to, but your city will be safe. You have my word, Elizabeth."

"And then what?" Elizabeth asked in jest, her stubborn conscience refusing to play to the colonel's delusions, no matter how wonderful they were starting to sound.

He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then you will have to hire a personal army if you think anything is going to keep me away from you."

"John!" she hissed softly. There could be no 'we'. Ever. Rules and responsibilities would keep them apart. The Wraith would keep them apart. She had already accepted that when he rose from the pod.

John took a pained step back, pulling himself away like he was tearing the Earth from its moon. "But until that day, I'll bide my time."

She sighed, still unsure if she should even be having this conversation. "Doing what?"

"Sleeping in freezing ice water, more than likely," he replied.

"John!" she barked, though something within her wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go. I hate it when he does that, she hissed inwardly. This is serious! She wanted to wring his neck and nibble on it all at the same time.

No. She admitted to herself. I love every minute of it.

"Do you want an all out confession? Is that what you want?" the colonel questioned at her resistance. He strode forward, again invading her personal space with his seething intensity. "Well here it is—Elizabeth, I love you—at your side, from afar, or even in the distance. I will always love you."

"John!" This had gone on long enough. She couldn't bear to hear another word. She had to shut him up.

"What else is there to say?" he questioned again, confusion in his tone. He made a list, ticking off the items on his fingers. "I've promised to slay the bad guys, help the disenfranchised and spit out some of the most frightening things a guy could ever say, what more-"

Elizabeth slipped an arm around his and pulled him toward her, their lips catching each other once again. This time several soul-mending minutes passed before the two pulled apart, both breathing heavy when the embrace finally broke. Never before had she felt such a shockwave of desire pulse through her being.

"You know," John panted, their breaths tickling each other. "I'm technically on medical leave until Beckett's clears me for the whole coming-back-from-the-dead thing. I think I'm looking at a good two weeks vacation coming up…" He gave her a coy smile. "Think we could accidentally drop their gate into a lava flow or something?"

The sun cleared the distant horizon and day returned at last to the tattered city. Elizabeth slipped back into her business demeanor. "You have ten minutes before I'm supposed to meet with Eldred and the Council, Colonel," she stated coolly. "Make 'em count."

Sheppard smirked. "Yes, ma'am."

oOo

Elizabeth let Carson and Rodney flank the colonel when they lined up to return through the Stargate at the edge of the village settlement. Teyla and Ronon had insisted on leaving with Lorne's group, after having been thanked profusely for their roles in helping the villagers throw off their shackles of slavery. The woman figured the two were tired of the hero worship and just needed to get back on familiar soil. Elizabeth didn't mind, the last few days on this planet had been pleasant enough, but she wanted to go home and so did her team. A few of the villagers-turned-scientists called chipper farewells, to which Rodney muttered something uncivilized under his breath. A heavy-hearted Mara stepped from the crowd to give John a parting kiss goodbye. Elizabeth felt relieved when John turned and the woman's lips met his cheek, not his mouth. She smiled as the raging bubbles of the forming wormhole slurped back into a waiting pool of sparkling blue and John pulled away from Mara's pleading eyes. The team waved their final goodbyes to the others gathered under the bright sunlight of day.

"Well," Rodney sighed, adjusting the straps on his backpack as the group started forward. "Are you ready to go home, Colonel?"

"I'd say I've had my fill of near-death experiences for the week."

"Good, because according to my calculations, you owe me at least three 'Escape Certain Death, Free' cards. If I have to do something like this again, I'll have to charge a fee."

John laughed and slipped through the Stargate. Rodney paused, staring at the event horizon. "I'm serious," he added, before stepping through himself. Shaking her head to hold back a laugh, Elizabeth followed.

When, moments later, Elizabeth materialized in the bright of the Atlantis Gatetrium, she had to stop and stand in silent awe. She had expected something of a greeting party to meet the colonel at the Gate, but she had not expected the crowed that sprawled out before her. Assemebled with in the Gaterium stood nearly as many souls as had attended the man's funeral; though, surprisingly, they seemed in no higher spirits than they were then. Pushed close, shoulder to shoulder, the eyes of the scientists, soldiers, airman and all other members of the Expedition glowered on the dark haired colonel. At the head of the crowd stood Teyla and Ronon, each bearing an expression of sincere disdain.

Clearly thrown off by the dismal greeting, John tried to reconcile with a shaky greeting. "Hey… guys…?"

Frowning, Teyla and Ronon stepped forward, hands held firmly behind their backs. Even Elizabeth's brow furrowed in concern, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong after all they had been through.

"Colonel Sheppard," Teyla began coldly, as if speaking for the whole of the room. "We have told everyone what you have done," she said, motioning with her head to the assembled crowd. The collective mood seemed to darken in judgment. "How you intended to let yourself wither away without giving your friends a chance to help you."

Biting his lip, John took the words like a prick to the heart. "Look, Teyla," he tried to defend. "I'm sorry—I really am—but you have to understand…"

The woman cut him off without listening to his argument. "We have all discussed this and have decided on your punishment."

John startled. "My punishment?"

Still confused, Elizabeth and Rodney looked to each other before locking eyes with the Athosian. Elizabeth caught just a hint of a smile on the woman's lip.

"I believe you call it payback," she replied then, with a silent nod to the crowd, pulled her arms from behind her back. Ronon did the same, drawing out a curious metal cylinder. Elizabeth recognized it in a heartbeat, but a heartbeat too late to avoid what came next. John winced instinctively, but nothing could save him from the spray off icky goo that sprouted from the canister.

Elizabeth tried to back out of the line of fire, but to her light-hearted horror, no less than thirty of her top knotch science team members raised similar cans in her direction. "You too, Dr. Weir!" they shouted with smiles, and then let fly sticky strings of vibrant color. Within moments, Elizabeth, Rodney, Carson and John were buried in an inescapable web of bright, sticky goo. Rodney flailed about to the cheers and laughs of the science team, trying to rip the soft stuff from his person, but the stuff only clung to him harder. Laughter and shouts erupted from the crowd and their attackers turned their toys on other prey. Suddenly, sticky shoots burst into the air, from all directions, coating the assembly like neon spiderwebs.

"What the hell?" Rodney blurted from beneath a pile of pink mush, vainly attempting to wipe the bright webs out of his hair. "Where did all this come from?"

"The arms locker," John gasped between laughs as Teyla and Ronon emptied their cans.

"The arms locker? What does the military need with sixty cans of silly string?"

John scraped a tangle of glop from his eyes, the roots of which clung determinedly to the ruffles of his hair. Having taken the brunt of the attack, John stood piled in the stuff, "Helps when checking for trip wires." Elizabeth thought he almost resembled some sort of regal swamp monster, with a cloak of bright goo woven of every color. She couldn't help laughing at him, long and hard. The colonel turned to her and, finding the sight of her just as hilarious, turned red with raucous, uncontrolled laughter.

Even Carson, the innocent bystander caught in the mayhem, chuckled at the wild frivolity. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the one solemn face in the whole crowd. Above the cheering, above the gleeful abandon, Dr. Kavanaugh stood on a balcony overlooking the triumphant return, his face shocked pale. The medical doctor leaned toward John as the colonel tried to shake off the robes of sticky string.

"I don't suppose they made a drink strong enough to put the rose back in his cheeks," Carson smiled.

John smiled through the layers of stickiness as those gathered in the Gaterium cheered for the return of their friend and commander, and for the moment's bright respite from the desperation of their time. He leaned in too, shouting to be heard above the commotion. "If the ocean was whiskey, Carson."

The Scotsman threw his head back and laughed.