Coup de
coeur
Author: wanderingsmith
May 2008
Summary: Alternate Coup d'état - sparky angst
Spoilers: 2x14 Coup d'état
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
AN: Coup de coeur = Hit to the heart. an old habit; taking an
episode and rewriting it to promote my ships.. I usually keep the
'writing' in my own mind cause I'm too lazy to actually write plot...
AN2: lol, this should be known as a companion piece for The Empty one..
except that's a different fandom ;) -hey, angst is a popular topic in
all 'doms
When the unscheduled offworld activation came through, Elizabeth was
there to listen as Dr. Lindsay's panicked voice spoke the words
'Colonel Sheppard' and 'explosion'.
"Drop the shield. Dr. Lindsay, come through the gate," her voice was
calm even with her adrenaline spiking. As it always did when John
managed to get himself in danger.
------------------------------------
When Ronon and Teyla walked back through the gate looking grim and
followed with one stretcher and none of the team John had accompanied,
Elizabeth knew it was going to be a bad day.
When they sat in the conference room and Teyla started speaking very
softly while Ronon sat on her other side and tried to look supportive,
she very deliberately stiffened herself. Knowing that the blows were
going to strike deeply.
They told her that Major Lorne's team, whom the colonel had led to the
planet since Lorne was in the infirmary, were all in a building having
a meal when Dr. Lindsay was led away by a villager. A few minutes
later, the doctor both heard and saw the building the men were in
explode. Teyla's voice softened even more as she spoke of finding a
burnt body near the edge of the explosion wearing Private Frobisher's
tags. Of finding John's dogtags -which she wouldn't let go of after
Ronon wordlessly gave them to her- near a trace of white powder, near
the heart of the damage. Of finding *all* the men's tags in the midst
of terrible fiery destruction.
Elizabeth's fingers jerkily spun the charred, twisted tags she held.
Trying, with almost two years of experience, to find the *hint* of hope
in the report. The flaw that would allow the possibility that...
That... The silence in the room stretched as she held herself still
through the waves of agony rising through her. Held herself together.
Her eyes were stinging with tears she would not shed here when the gate
started dialing again.
She rose mechanically, instinct guiding her to her post. Not even
noticing when Ronon and Teyla followed.
She'd never realized how much effort walking could be. Her legs felt
weighed down with lead, all the little joints that had to move with
every step were sore, if not outright painful. Her heart. Her heart
felt like a hot sword was twisting in it. Sharp stabbing pain with
every breath. She didn't let herself think about why. Had a protective
layer of obliviousness between her mind and the emotions waiting to
overwhelm her.
The first few times she'd had to protect herself to keep functioning;
those had been hard. Somehow a lifetime of self-control had not been
quite as much preparation as she would have thought. Nor the denial
she'd started this job out with.
But she'd learned.
Learned to admit to the fear and pain. Learned to breathe through it,
shield just enough of it away to *think* through it. To survive to find
the path; whether that meant saving him, or merely living on to lead
their people alone.
It wouldn't hold for long, that shield, not against the darkness that
attacked her now, but it would keep her able to work for the day. And
then she would build another. She had a job to do. He would never want
her to fail because of him.
-----------------------------------
Seeing Ladon again... was too much of a reminder of the man who had
protected them all for so long, adding another shard to the darkness.
As it billowed out against that shield of stubborn non-knowledge in her
mind, she could barely hold back from screaming at the man; to order
her soldiers after him. But she caught herself, with gritted teeth and
fisted hands, held the deathly fury in; glad they weren't sending
video, suspecting even her expression would have given away her
momentary weakness.
She didn't need J... She winced away from completing the thought.
Even alone, she knew that he was untrustworthy. She didn't *want* to
negotiate. Didn't give a bloody *damn* about the Genii. Or anyone else
but the people *he*'d died for.
----------------------------
But McKay's arguments for the ZPM were also sound; and her people must
come first. And so, Major Lorne was pulled out of the infirmary with
his healing arm so that he could take his place as Atlantis' military
commander right away.
And she ordered Ronon and Teyla to find who had killed her people, her
voice colder and harder than anyone in the room had ever heard from
her. Just this once, she *wanted* to carry a gun herself. Felt no
hesitation to going after whoever had done this with deadliest force.
Unfair to all the other dead they had losts, but there it was. For an
instant, a pair of hazel eyes shined through the darkness in her mind.
Deadly and intent, removed from their face by cold black metal. This
time, instead of wanting to comfort them, she *was* them.
-------------------------------
Hours later, Elizabeth watched expressionlessly as Ladon's Genii walked
through the gate without a ZPM. She ordered Lorne and his men to carry
on with the raid on Ladon's suspected hideout, as planned.
"Yes ma'am. We'll be in touch in about 3 hours, Lorne out."
She watched as the gate shut down and the Genii were escorted to the
perimeter to be guarded until she heard from Lorne again. When one of
the women passed out, she ordered her taken to the infirmary, wondering
faintly what that was about. Trying to make herself care.
Half an hour later, Carson showed up to tell her that their hostages
were all dying of radiation but refusing to talk. It was too much to
hope that it was a coincidence and Elizabeth leaned her elbows on her
desk, massaging her temples as the tension of keeping everything inside
increased to headache state.
"Elizabeth..."
She lifted a hand to silence the doctor, knowing he would want her to
rest. "We have to wait until Lorne reports in anyway. I'll get word to
Teyla about what we're doing. And *then* I'll take a break. I promise."
He nodded and left her to dial the planet where... Where Teyla and
Ronon were trying to find out who was responsible for... for... She
couldn't bring herself to finish the thought; reminded that Carson was
at least partially right. She needed to be alone for a while to rebuild
her shield. Her strength.
-------------------------------
When Evan Lorne woke up from the gassing, it was to his supposedly dead
colonel bent over him, "Rise and shine, major. I'd really like to know
the details of your rescue plan, right about now."
"Sir?!!"
John's brows rose at the complete shock in the man's tone. The worry
that had been spinning through his mind, about Elizabeth, about his
missing man, about how long it was taking to be rescued, turned hard.
It was never good when your own people were surprised to see you. "So.
*No* rescue plan?"
"You... We... We thought you were dead, Sir!"
John's jaw clenched and he felt a cold sweat flow over his skin. He got
up abruptly, turning away from the men around him, not seeing how they
moved to give him what privacy they could. He knew they'd been here at
least 24 hours, and Lorne was completely shocked at his being alive.
'*We* thought'. Which meant Elizabeth thought...
Hurting, guilty fury overran him and he punched the chainlink wall
before gripping it tightly with both hands and leaning on it for a
minute. Damn it! To be stuck in this weak, unguarded bloody prison
while...
He finally stepped away from it, hands fisted, closing his eyes and
trying to get control of himself. Bastards. Bastards for hurting her.
And him along with them. Bastards for hurting her.
He never meant to make her worry. Hated seeing the anguish in her eyes
when he was in trouble. Hated knowing it was there when he was stuck on
some planet, or moon, or ship and couldn't even see, couldn't give her
so much as a reassuring grin. And now she thought he was dead. He knew
what that would do... *had done* to him. He needed to get home.
------------------------------
It took more than an hour to walk back to the gate after Ronon and
Teyla convinced Ladon that his sister could be saved. All he had to do
was take the soldiers of Atlantis out with him rather than blow them up
with Cowen and his people.
If he could have come up with a reason, John would have run, or at
least jogged, but there was no real rush. Atlantis wasn't in danger and
wasn't going to do anything different just because they were a little
longer getting back at this point... So he stayed quiet, forcing
himself to let Ronon set the pace. Trying to convince himself that
Elizabeth would deal with losing him just fine. Would be at her post
and nothing more than sad; maybe a little angry.
But after 3 years, there were too many memories between them for him to
really believe that. She *would* be at her post, that much he did
believe. But she would be hurting and... damn it, he'd passed Ronon
again.
-------------------------------
When he was finally through the gate, his eyes started scoping for
Elizabeth without stopping to respond to any of the shocked welcomes.
Worry spiked when he didn't see her anywhere. "Rodney!" he shouted at
the man gaping at him from Elizabeth's lookout, "Whe..." he stopped
himself at the last second, swearing as he stalked away from the
welcoming committee, this time using his earpiece, "Rodney! Where's
Elizabeth?!"
"What? Oh! Carson made her go get some rest a couple of hours ago. Are
you"
"Not now Rodney, Teyla can give you a rundown. Debrief can wait 'till
tomorrow."
Rodney's frowned in confusion for a second, but then he caught a glance
of the man's face among the crowd. The stark worry there made him
remember *why* Elizabeth had needed rest. Oh. Yeah.
------------------------------
John resisted the urge to call Elizabeth, not sure how she would react
and wary of upsetting her if he wasn't there to deal with the damage.
At least now he could *run*.
He knocked on her quarters' door and then anxiously got Atlantis to
open it when there was no answer. The empty room made him freeze in
momentary panic before he made himself think; put himself in her
shoes... where would he...
He spun around and took off again.
--------------------------------
Leaving Rodney to watch Atlantis and contact her when Lorne called in,
Elizabeth walked to her quarters. After the first few sympathetic
glances she caught, she avoided paying anyone any attention, hurrying
as much as she could, feeling the pain cramping her breathing more with
every step. She wasn't thinking; was very deliberately NOT thinking.
Held her face in its mask and spared no attention for anything else,
trusting her feet to lead her home.
When the door she ended up facing wasn't hers, the first shudder shook
her and she accepted her subconscious' demand. Waved the door open,
praying Atlantis would let her in his quarters. The moment she was in
the dark room, she wrapped her arms around herself, carefully releasing
the control over her features and her emotions.
It was disorienting; when she smelled John this strongly, she was
usually *safe*. So safe... She stumbled forward, feeling the grief
overtake her completely; her arms no comfort at all. Forcibly keeping
her eyes open and her breath even, she was unaware of when she sat down
on the floor, hard.
Staring forward, making herself concentrate on everything she had to be
doing. Personnel evaluations, food requisitions. The search for
*John*'s killers. John! Letting the pain flow through her,
acknowledging it without focusing on how badly her heart hurt, how cold
and sick and broken her whole body felt.
In amongst making herself think of what she *had* to do, she started to
think of -accept- what death, his death, really meant. That she would
never see him again. He would never stroll into her office to tease
her, reassure her, vent to her. Never hang at her shoulder pestering
her for something. Never smirk, grin or give her that silent smile. She
would never hear his voice; no more rushed anger, or whispering
softness, or that jerky stutter when she managed to throw him. She
would never feel that rare, hesitant touch.
The warm, clean smell of leather, metal and man, the man she *loved*,
damn them all, would fade even from here; would never again serve to
remind her of the support standing behind or beside her when the world
attacked. Sweaty, dirty, exhausted John would never again be rescued.
She would never again fall asleep with her head on his hospital pillow,
faded pine shampoo, coppery blood and antiseptic infirmary leading her
to troubled rest.
Oh god. She had to dig her nails in her palms to control a runaway
shudder, straining to keep breathing silently through the pain. To keep
focusing on what would have to be done through the barren loneliness
she could already feel lurking behind the grief.
No one to talk her through grief. Or sorrow, or guilt, or worry.
Truly alone now. To face the Genii, the wraith, the IOA. To face every
day of the future.
She was years past pretending to herself that he was no more than a
friend. That she would mourn and then continue her life as she had
before they met.
If she had only figured out, in all that time, how she *would* bear the
long years.
--------------------------------
John waved the door to his room open, still trying to tell himself she
would be fine, that he would find her quietly packing up his things.
At first he thought the room was empty but then his eyes adjusted to
the darkness and he heard the uneven breaths from next to his bed.
"Shit," he whispered, hurrying forward, using the pale light from the
small window rather than risk startling her. When she didn't react, he
slowed, coming to a crouch a few inches in front of the bent knees her
arms were wrapped around. He could see now the tears tracking down her
cheeks. Tried to meet her eyes. But she looked right through him, her
breathing disturbed but controlled. Too controlled. "Elizabeth," he
kept his voice soft, seeing her shudder and hug herself tighter, but
otherwise ignore him. "Elizabeth." This time she reacted, actually
focused on him jerkily, eyes widening.
"John?" her voice was choked, disbelieving.
He went down on his knees to be steadier, slowly brought his hands to
rest on her ankles. However much he wanted, right now, to pull her into
a tight hug... he didn't want to make it any harder to deal with his
sudden return. Instead he murmured steadily, "It's OK. I'm home. It was
a setup. I wasn't in that explosion. I'm ok. It's alright Elizabeth.
You're ok."
Her hands had risen slowly as he spoke, finally hesitating less than an
inch from touching his face. He smiled reassuringly, taking the
initiative to bend his head until her hand cupped his jaw. "Elizabeth,"
he whispered again, keeping his hands where they were and waiting for
her next cue.
She'd been so lost in her own mind, thinking of him... he was *dead*.
She was imagining this... even the touch to her legs... but it was a
comfort even to *see* him and if she touched him... then he would
disappear. But when he leaned into her, his skin was real and warm.
When she felt his jaw move, Elizabeth finally accepted the reality.
"John!" The sudden complete joy made everything, every other thought
utterly disappear. She literally threw herself at him, arms probably
strangling him. Her eyes burned but she was laughing, choking back sobs
but laughing. Hearing his voice soothing her, his hands stroking her.
Holding her.
Metal; man. Stiff vest and soft voice. Support. And love. LIFE!
She was warm again but the waves of relief still left it hard to
breathe, the grief still too recent for her body to recover and stop
aching.
John's eyes were closed as he fought to keep his touch no more than
friendly. She felt so shaky and cold, and sounded lost, adrift. His
instincts cried to press his lips to her skin, remind them both that
they were alive and together. But he made himself just hold her,
feeling her grief as his own. Knowing, *knowing* that sooner or later
one of them would be here again. Holding on to her while he could.
The emotions finally started to let up and Elizabeth was able to find
the control that had been spun out of her hands. She released her
stranglehold on John; caught a few more deep breath -John, safety- with
her forehead on his shoulder to steal herself for whatever emotions
might rise when she looked at him again. Aware that he'd gone still
when she changed her grip. That he hadn't released her. That she still
felt too much. Still shivered with loss. With un-looked-for relief.
He met her gaze when she lifted her head; watching, hoping she was
going to be alright. Trying to see what she needed from him. Lips
tightening with worry at the lost edge in her eyes. Even more than a
year later, he remembered that feeling. And he hadn't had to hide his
pain from a city-full of subordinates...
"What are we doing to ourselves, John?"
"Surviving," he answered equally quietly.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this." He was scared by how
discouraged, broken she sounded; ready to give up. He'd never allowed
himself to imagine Atlantis without Elizabeth... couldn't let himself
be the reason for it.
His voice was soft but firm, "Yes, you can. You are the strongest
person I've ever known Elizabeth," he frowned, sharply regretting his
ever-present lack of ability with words, fearing he would never make
her see, make her feel safe and herself again, but she interrupted him.
"I don't want to be strong. I," she hesitated, knowing she had a
tendency to overreact when she was so relieved. Wondering if *he*
preferred to keep the status quo... But he radiated support. Not
distance; support. 'I'm here, whatever you need me to be, I'm here'.
Her breathing stuttered as she chose the fire. She couldn't stay in the
pan any longer, was too aware of the drop waiting to swallow her.
Nothing would make the fear and nightmares less... but if she could
have... could hold onto him, feel him hold on to her. She could have at
least *some* moments of peace. And so could he. He was too alone; she
had always hated that he had to face the demons and the pain alone. As
alone as she was.
She reached out, touching the corner of his eyes, reassured by the
affection there, gently closing his unresisting lids, then raising
herself on her knees to face him, her hands sliding into his hair
-pine, sweat; John-, holding his head.
And *kissing* him. Finally. Feeling his startled breath. Then his arms
wrap around her, waist and nape. And pull her tight -safe-, deepening
the kiss himself. Life. Heat. Desire. Faintly familiar, soft lips.
Demanding possession she'd never felt, invasion that left her weak and
shivery; returning the favour and feeling him shudder...
When she finally pulled away to breathe, they stared at each other. "I
don't want to be strong alone anymore," her *voice* was stronger now,
closer to what it usually was. She kept it even to leave him the
choice. Her decision did not have to be his...
But he never hesitated, made her squeak in shock when his hands were
suddenly behind her knees and shoulders, lifting her as he rose. Her
arms grabbed onto his neck, laughing at the oddly thrilling move.
Knowing that was relief behind the smirk on his face as he took the
step to his bed and laid a knee on it before lowering her. "I take it
you'd like to change the 'alone' part rather than the strong, colonel?"
His lower body came to rest on hers, the weight of his shoulders on his
arms. "Without question, doctor," The humour drained out, a shaft of
brighter light across her face reminding him that this had already been
an emotional day, "Losing you was never a viable option." He leaned
over to kiss a stray tear away from the corner of her eye, "I'll always
fight to get back to you, I swear." He grinned weakly, "I'll even try
to ascend if it comes to that, on the off chance I can pull a Jackson
and get back. Hopefully in your bed rather than your office..."
Elizabeth took a breath, chasing the pain away for the moment, and gave
him a fierce frown, gripping his shoulders and shaking as hard as she
could; if he wanted strength... "See that you do. You let someone kill
you and *I*'m going to find a way to ascend just so I can whup your far
too cute butt!"
Letting her move him while keeping his weight from falling on her, he
was suddenly laughing, reassured that his Elizabeth was going to be
fine; and then some. "Cute? Why Dr. Weir, I never knew!"
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