Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.
A short tag I felt i must write for "The Seige Part 2" – Elizabeth's thoughts as they stand and wait.
Spoilers: For all of Season one including Seige part 2
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.
Duty: What is right
His fingers punch in the codes as do mine, his hands trembling, his weary body shuddering to John' goodbye.
I think of
what he'd said to me. The statement, accusatory, just before.
'You let
Sheppard fly that jumper.'
It would
have been a question but he wasn't looking for an answer.
And now I
wonder whether I did the right thing.
Only I
know I did.
We're all scared and John's our best hope, our last defense jetting off in the rigged puddle jumper.
Teyla
isn't responding, nor does Ford from where ever they all are.
And now
Everett can't be traced.
We might
be saved if this works, whoever is left by then.
So here we
stand next to each other, waiting for the word.
For what
is half our salvation and our worst dream.
The price
will be heavy and if it works I wonder who'll be the other
sacrificed.
Miller?
Carson? Rodney...?
The short
list creeps in my mind, the decision had been John's but the next
might be mine. Who to ask, who to order, who to send to their death.
There was the look John gave me as he hesitated on the stairs - letting me know he'd do it anyway, he just wanted to leave on good terms because he doesn't expect to come back; because he hopes to succeed.
And Rodney...he's just angry that there is no other way. That I let it be like his, that he couldn't have time to figure it out.
John said goodbye to me but not to Rodney. He didn't know what was going on for sure until he saw it on the sensors, he'd come rushing in not long after John left me, by then he'd figured it out more or less.
As to why?
Time is precious and I can only presume John knew Rodney wouldn't let it be, might have insisted on taking his place. Whoever went we'd have lost a man, though some guilty part of me is glad it's not Rodney and hoping the Major can pull it off and come out the other side. A slightly happy ending to this, if it exists.
Either way I can tell Rodney already feels guilty for it, feels guilty for everyone. For not getting that ZPM, for not getting Peter off the satellite, for so many things and so many people who thinks he should have saved.
He shakes at my side and I lean into him, clasping his hand in support. He's not slept for a week if he's been telling the truth. His body long overdue, mind crashing, barriers breaking; more than snappy but he carries on. Letting loose only when its ok to, when military men push him too far and when once again they undervalue the science that saves the day. The science that usually provides the solution is his product and if I know him well that will fuel his guilt further, that his science killed his friend – the instrument of destruction he finished with his own tired but somehow steady hands.
But still
he's standing, right by me, waiting for a sign.He stares
out into the gate room as Sheppard flies into the wraith fleet.
I'm scared
for all of us. Glad we're here, holding on as humans tend to do, but
not sure how long that will last. If it can.
I squeeze
his hand again, uncertain how much is to reassure him and how much to
comfort me. His hand
shakes wildly beneath my own, palms sweaty with fear. Apart from that
he shows little sign of caring, the usual barriers gone and new
stronger different ones in place. Devoid of sarcasm but now nearly
blank, letting through just enough to be human but the rest locked
deep within.
And still
he stands by me, looking to me for further orders, anyway to change
this, anyway to make up for what he feels he's done.
The only
other thing is in his eyes, the sadness that emanates I have to look
away from.
He stands by out of duty but I'm grateful he's here. Someone left, someone to be sure of because when it comes down to it he gives everything, does everything he can. Such a shame this is the conclusion and that it turned out this way, for all his efforts there was little we could do to stop this.
All there
is is limiting the damage, staving off our demise; at best preventing
anymore loss of life.
There are
of course those who might still have to sacrifice themselves, the
causalities of war that are done for the hope that the rest will
survive.
Survival
is all we ask for, that I pray for for these good people and myself.
But
there's the guilt that goes with it, for everyone of us. If we live
or if we die, nothing will ever be right again.
At last I feel his grip tighten around my hand, a response to show he's there and not simply standing in, carrying on as he has to. He's here because this is the end and for all his holding us at arms length, we are friends and family. Everyone's together in this.