The family in the machine

The family in the machine

Author: wanderingsmith
dec 2008
Summary: Giftfic for anuna_81 on this jan 11. Atlantis invaded and then it gets some very special help
Rating: PG13 - lotsa John!whump
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.

AN: so my self-imposed prompt was
-John, Atlantis, their connection.... Elizabeth as the part of Atlantis (post season 4). someone claims the city like the genii. the city saving him because the city is "Elizabeth*. situation similar like in The Storm and The Eye.
-and then, whoever it is, wrecks havoc on the city, doors lock... systems go haywire... Rodney is hurt and locked somewhere... there's water leaking
-John's injured, and then the city wakes up, let the city save him, he is almost unconscious and the city wakes him up
-what I want is her - and she is the city - helping him survive while he is injured bad and bleeding. And she protects him, so that enemies can't reach him

so I took that and ran with it. Now, a caveat. I haven't seen anything past lifelines. I've *heard* bits of Ghost in the machine, but I don't know the plot beyond the one detail.. so don't expect anything true to that

many thanks to the friends that lent eyes and expertise and encouragement!

Goto Chapter 2
Goto Chapter 3
Goto Chapter 4

Chapter one

It was amazing how fast things could go to hell, John thought. As he lay on the cold floor, feeling himself slowly bleed to death, he couldn't stop going over the steps that had taken an ordinary day, and led it to the end of his people, his city.

Six hours ago an unknown ship had arrived in orbit and started bombarding the shielded city without warning. The energy weapons the newcomers used began draining the shield immediately, and their own weapons didn't seem to have any effect, either Human or Ancient. With a chill of premonition, John had ordered the evacuation of non-essential personnel to the Alpha site. Which was just as well because they had no time to dial the gate to get anyone out when the shield suddenly dropped below its ability to keep the enemy from beaming in.

Unable to hold the too-open gateroom under the ground-attack, John had shot up the terminals as he and Ronon covered the retreat of the scientists back into the corridors, hoping that that would be enough to keep these damned advanced aliens from making use of the gate.

Who they were, where they came from and why the hell they decided to attack Atlantis, were all questions he'd had no time for, though how the makers of Predator could have come up with something so eerily close.. was as annoying to think of as naked little green men beaming bombs around from the deck of an Earth starship. The enemy fell to bullets, which was good; except that at least some of them had personal shields. Not to mention that some of their weapons punched through Atlantean walls like so much butter.

All of which was a far cry from the annoying but boring diplomatic mission he'd been doing last-minute reading up for this morning.

Trying to make his arm move as his back chilled and his thoughts slowed, John remembered how he'd been missing being in the field. From the time he and the boys had gotten their pilfered ZPM back to Atlantis and finally met up with the Apollo at their new home, he'd felt the responsibility for the soldiers and scientist that called the city home shackling him, tying him down to the paperwork, and to every wall and terminal of the city itself. He'd barely registered the shock when General O'Neill showed up and told him he was officially in command. His mind had been focused on fixing his damaged city; on who was dead, who was injured and who could fill their duties.

That focus had allowed the volcano of pain and guilt he was feeling to stay buried until it could crust over and whet into the rest of the regret that he lived alongside. When he finally rose out of the daze, he'd found himself in Elizabeth's -even in physical agony, the name and all the emotions it carried through him made him wince-. In Elizabeth's office. In her spot watching teams walk through the gate -into danger or returning victorious. Paying an attention to Rodney and the other scientists that John-the-soldier couldn't be bothered to attempt. John-the-administrator did everything he could to watch over Atlantis for the lost, waiting for the day when he could hand it back to its true keeper.

It was almost stranger to notice how his team had changed with him, taking on new responsibilities rather than trying to go on with a different team leader. Ronon had officially taken over training; from doc Heightmeyer to the most experienced marine, everyone learned how to fight off any attack and how to survive in the field -to Ronon's satisfaction, not to mere Air force requirements. Teyla had taken on even more of the day-to-day administration, filtering how much ended up in John's hands. And Rodney, Rodney spent more time doing research and actually leading the other scientist, slowly being taught by Teyla to get along with them enough to be an efficient leader in his own right.

It hadn't taken the men's tempers or Teyla's uncharacteristically sad silences for them all to know they weren't where they wanted to be. That they were settling for what was necessary. Even more so than usual.

As the weeks passed, John accepted that they weren't going to get their old life back; at least not soon. He continued to hope; would *always* hope, thanks to all the other wonders he'd seen. But he realized he couldn't survive if he was constantly waiting for his life to right itself; he had to accept that *this* was his life for now. He could not treat it as settling, lest he shortchange the people who trusted him to lead them. Shortchange *her* memory. It was a slow process, but he adjusted, taught himself to eat enough to be healthy, sleep enough to think straight. Ignore the pain that stabbed through every time a team returned without news of their leader or the IOA made some passing remark.

As the months started rolling by, Teyla was even teaching him to be a smoother negotiator; which was a good thing, since she had promised her dreadlocked husband to stop going through the gate at the end of her first trimester.

A bit of research before any meeting was one of her first lessons; know the culture - avoid the foolish potholes. Boring. Not as bad as listening to scientists rave about Ancient contraceptive techniques and manufacturing technology, but still the kind of inactive activity that made him *yearn* for the days of running through forests with an angry mob on his tail.

But fending off an attack within Atlantis itself was an entirely different story.

----

Running through the corridors from lab to lab, escorting Rodney and Zelenka, wunderkinds extraordinaire, as they scrambled to make a better alien trap, John was glad for the link his friend had helped him improve with Atlantis.

An evening of John touching Ancient widgets while the scientist explained the latest projects needing funding had gone quiet when they didn't have any more work to discuss; the ever-present grief and guilt that rose between them choked any chance at their old teasing. When John's twitching fingers had activated yet another workstation panel, Rodney had tried for an idle tone as he mentioned some sub-routines he'd found that he thought might be related to communicating with holders of the Ancient gene.

John knew he had to do something to maintain his friendships, however much he couldn't find it in himself to be his old cheerful self; yet. So he agreed. And when Atlantis started having more of a personality, started actually communicating with him -albeit like a toddler-, John realized that not only did it give them a hell of an advantage in figuring out the secrets of the Ancients, it could mean victory in a battle.

Or so he'd thought. Being able to control the doors of the city was of limited use when some of the bad guys could melt through them. Still, they at least had a way of tracking the invaders and knowing how they reacted to any new wunderkind action, not to mention tracking the other teams also hiding on Atlantis; also trying to beat off the invasion.

Until suddenly the connection was gone. For no apparent reason, Atlantis was gone from his mind. Not even the vague impressions of his early days in the Pegasus galaxy. It didn't take one of the geniuses to tell him this was *not* good. Advanced aliens that couldn't be stopped and a computer system that no longer talked to them; it was pretty basic math.

It didn't change what had to be done though. It was just another casualty; another of his 'people' lost. Of course, like any key player, Atlantis' loss hastened the end; they couldn't track the enemy any more, and then the Ancient terminals started shutting down and refusing commands. A huge *leap* into Hell.

Down to using their laptops to try to come up with some wild plan, and constantly trying to dodge patrols, John had split the team, not speaking the thought that it would double their enemies' targets. At this point, that hardly seemed enough to give any of them any particular chance at survival, but it was all he had to offer. As he watched Ronon shove Zelenka through a door that started to close for no apparent reason, he wished them godspeed and dragged Rodney in the opposite direction, getting a chill from the sudden flicker of the lights. The creak of materials under stress was getting louder, humming through the floors and walls. Something was happening to the city; something worse than shutting out the remnants of the expedition.

Another hour on the run and Rodney was hit, a chunk taken out of his leg by some weapon that shot a wide beam of energy. John got the bad guys and dragged his buddy into a room, furious that he couldn't at least make Atlantis close the door behind him.

"Rodney-" John's voice choked, his hands shaking as he automatically reached for the med kit he wasn't carrying, his eyes fixed on the bloody dent in the other man's leg. If the ray gun hadn't seared the flesh as it passed through, it would already be too late.

"Forget it." Rodney was breathless and speaking through clenched teeth, clutching his laptop with fingers as white as his face. His head jerked to the side, wide eyes fixed on a bank of low cupboards. "There."

John followed the gaze, hoping for a miracle.

"Get me in one of those and then get out."

"Rodney-"

"There's at least a chance they won't find me," The scientist gave John a grim look, "If I can think of a way to get into the computers and access the damned self-destruct..."

They stared at each other in silence, not needing to admit that they'd given up the hope of winning. They just didn't have a choice but to keep fighting until their last breath; surrender to people who had not even tried to communicate before attacking.. seemed beyond futile. Rodney had been around military types too long; fighting to the end had overrun his native cowardice a long time ago.

John had finally nodded agreement -and permission-, jerkily getting up from his crouch and going to wrestle a door open. He'd helped Rodney to it and had given in to the reflex to give the man a quick hug and pat on the back before stuffing him in his hiding spot and closing him in.

Now, staring at a flickering terminal across the room, John tried to decide what to do. Their radios hadn't worked since the alien ship had appeared, so he had no way of knowing if anyone else lived after two hours without Atlantis' help. For all he knew, he and Rodney were the last. If only he'd had time, when this crazy game of hide and seek started, he would have set the self-destruct himself and at least kept the secrets of the Ancients out of enemy hands; but it had all been too fast. Only the fact that he'd felt ridiculously reassured with have a P90 strapped on, as he watched the shield get drained, had led to his being armed at all when the shield had finally fallen.

Now. Now he could sabotage Atlantis; spend his life trying to do enough damage to sink the city. Or he could keep trying to make it to the jumper bay and try to get out; although the way that orbiting ship had laid them low, he didn't hold out much hope for that scenario. If only he knew what these damned strangers wanted, he'd have a goal, something specific to destroy. Walking down the corridor with an ear trained for anyone approaching, he pulled out the memory of Elizabeth, fighting the need to beg forgiveness on his knees for this latest failure. Instead, he tried to imagine what she would order him to do. He couldn't negotiate with people who shot first and shot second. He'd already sent as much of his people to safety as he was going to manage.

She would want Atlantis protected. Saved, by preference... but not if it meant being left to murderers. John nodded unconsciously, deciding that she would hate, but in the end approve of, sabotage. Sink her, John. Let no one have her.

He took the next turn and headed for the armoury, detouring to one of their old power modules and rigging it to self-destruct after disconnecting it from the grid. Coming out of the room carefully, he nonetheless missed the lone alien that came around the corner and shot him with some sort of projectile weapon. John threw himself across the corridor, rolling and coming up with his P90 aimed at the guy's head. Unfortunately, the tuck and roll hadn't been enough and he was hit again before getting the alien.

Catching his breath on a sob, he wrestled his shirt off, adrenaline the only thing keeping him moving. He ripped a strip off to wrap around the hole in his calf and then rolled the rest around his waist, trying to ignore the knowledge that even a glancing blow to the stomach was *not good*. It wasn't as though he'd expected to survive, after all.

He shoved himself up by leaning on the wall and on his gun, just able to put weight on his bad leg; whatever 'bullets' that thing had shot, they were way too close to the size of his own ammo. A crutch was the first order of business. Getting Atlantis destroyed *fast* was the very close second.

He'd been rerouted by enemy patrols and had stopped by a weapons locker when he felt the concussion as the power module blew, sending a dazed mental apology to the now deaf city for the pain he was causing -oops, he was slipping into delirium if he was assigning a computer sensations...

Another half hour of planting C4 and setting another power module to blow and he'd gotten shot again. Just a graze this time, but to the temple. And as he fell backwards to the floor, the P90 firing wildly, the fever that had been slowly blinding him wasn't enough to hide the agony. No amount of adrenaline, even if he'd had any left, could keep the pain of trying to put his weight on a damaged calf muscle from overriding him. The burn of god knows what happening in his stomach. The red haze had finished covering his vision; he couldn't see through it anymore, couldn't move against the rush of pain taking over his nervous system.

All to hell in less than half a day.

Chapter two

AN: {} indicate communication through/with/within the Atlantis computer

{Joooh-ooonnnn. You have to get up, colonel. Please.}

He wasn't sure how long he'd been laying there when the foreign thought 'sounded' in his mind, when the familiarity of the feeling of urgency and entreaty registered. Atlantis? He sluggishly opened his eyes, confused. Name, life, location... there was a funnel of information trying to lock onto his utterly blank mind. John? Was that his name? Why did he need a name? Images came up out of nowhere; of cold. Of a hard floor and pain. Of invaders, a city, friends, the Air Force, father-brother-wife-childhood.... John breathed through the onslaught of strange thoughts until he accepted them as his own.

Still confused, still feeling detached, he could sense that another memory was there. Could feel it surrounding him like a dark cloud. When the others had come, letting them in had been natural; nothing but curiosity rising to meet them. But now.. now his heart pounded, his breathing hitched. His attention split between the dread in his thoughts and the physical pain beginning to register. He wanted to raise his arms to fend off the mental darkness; but he also wanted to wrap them around his belly to try to contain the agony and cold fire there. That he couldn't seem to move would worry him if he had attention to spare; but as it was, he just heard a whimper that must have been him. And even *it* made his pounding head hurt more.

{John. I'm sorry, but you have to get up. Please, John. We need you.}

This time he was aware of the thought, remembered Atlantis talking to him in this way. But these weren't the strangely primitive thought patterns of the city -*his* city, yes, he remembered... But what- {No John, I'm not Atlantis. It's a very long story, but it's Elizabeth.}

"Noooooooo." He barely heard that weak moan as his mind exploded with those threatening memories. Elizabeth! Smiles and care and touch and anger-fights-terror-hurt-loneliness-sadness... John couldn't focus on the images flooding him this time; the emotions were too powerful. A different agony; of regret, guilt, self-hatred, *loneliness*, overwhelmed him, overwhelmed the underlying love and unshakable faith that was also streaming at him. Every piece of identity he'd just accepted re-framed itself around the core that he'd tried to hide from.

He felt the tears burning down his fever-dry cheeks as his last sight of the woman who had redefined him almost four years ago now stayed locked in his mental vision. Regret and terror; in her eyes, in his heart. {John..} This time he felt a thread of emotion along with the word, both reaching for him so tentatively as he lay there, refusing to think beyond grieving. He was a dead man anyway, what was the use. He had failed, failed to protect his friends, failed to either save or destroy the city of the Ancients. Had failed her memory. He had to be on the edge of death now; too bad he had to wake up to go through it.

{No! You have to *live*, John! I know it hurts, but you have to live. We can't keep them from getting the information they want for much longer. You have to help us.} It was a shout now, the tone so familiar in its anger that he actually focused on it. {Yes! It's me, John. I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to get up. Please listen to me...}

When Atlantis 'spoke', the words just 'appeared', or their meaning did. There was no voice, no sound associated. Tone was a feeling without an identity in a way that John couldn't describe.

But this... this tugged at sounds he remembered so clearly.

Happy to drift away from the pain in his body, he turned inward, eyes closing again in relief as he pulled up the memory of how he'd learned to 'speak' to the city, {Atlantis?}

{No. Well, Atlantis is here too, if you'd rather speak to it..} This time he couldn't help but assign the dropping -half-hurt and disappointed- tone to the words.

{Elizabeth?} Between the confusion, mental fog and still-present physical pain, he actually managed to say the name without wincing.

{Yes.}

Mere words weren't enough to satisfy the hunger he had for her presence, the need to connect, in any way, with his closest friend. He mentally reached out, knowing it was futile but far too far gone to care, yearning for a comfort he'd given up on even before he felt the approach of death.

{John?}

{I just... can you read my mind?} He'd never stopped to really wonder how it worked for Atlantis, but now...

{..No. Just.. the thoughts you 'speak'; aim outward loudly enough. I would never intrude.}

{No!} The thought was a jerky reflex; the idea that she *could* be closer making him react. {No. I mean.. I *want* you to.} He tried to 'speak' the *feeling* of how much he needed to have her emotions, not just her words; not remotely caring that he was offering to lay himself utterly bare before her. Any wary defences that should have risen up at the unlikeliness of Elizabeth really being the voice speaking to him, or at letting anyone into his soul, was silenced by the haziness of his mind. He just wanted some ease...

{John..} When he actually 'felt' some hesitation at the edge of his mind, he reached for it, trying not to grasp greedily, trying to touch with the reverence it deserved. {I.. All right.} This time he *heard* the words, Elizabeth's voice unmistakable; the old confident tone of a decision made. {Is this better?}

The warmth in *those* words made his breath catch, thrown back to a hundred moments where she'd given him an indulgent look with that tone, made him feel as though he were a part of something. As though he was cared for, connected and useful; no longer alone. {Yes. Better. How did you-}

{It's a long story. I'm sorry, John, but we really need you to get up right now. I-}

His body pulsed with an extra shot of agony as he sighed and interrupted, {I can't. I'm dying.}

He actually *felt* the responding worry and stubborn anger, a smile cracking his dry lips as she *growled* -oh *damn*, he missed her!-, {No you *don't*, John Sheppard!! You are going to get on your feet, colonel! Even if I have to electrify the floor under you!}

He actually tried to move his arm, just because she wanted him to, but he was so weak... He didn't bother to say anything, not knowing *what*- {John. I know it hurts.} He moaned as he felt a mental hug, felt her regret and affection, wanted to weep like a child for the comfort it gave him, {I'm sorry. I wish I could make you feel better, but you are the only one who can fix this. Just try to move, John, I'll help you any way I can...}

The honest entreaty, the desperate need he felt under the words, were too much; he couldn't fail her *again*, not without trying with his last strength.

His arms still seemed the simplest thing to move and he concentrated on his hands; unaware, in the straining effort of trying to make a fist through the pain and weakness, of the low, soothing, encouraging whisper in his mind. {You never *failed* me, John. You've taken care of our people, our city, just like I always knew I could count on you to. I'm sorry I couldn't escape; couldn't come back to you...} The surge of feelings, his or hers, he wasn't sure, gave him the strength to close his hands, the movement sending messages of life, sending what blood he had left moving faster though his stiff body.

He wanted to deny that it was anything but *his* fault for not rescuing her, but the frustration he felt coming through the link was nothing to the longing. Longing for *him*, that acted like a siren's call on his body, making a current of strength run through him, waking both muscles and more pain in its wake.

{Elizabeth...} He could only hope she could read the wealth of feelings in him behind her name. The need to be near her that had never abated; the love that had split his attention between the city and the heavens. The one as the only concrete link to her, the other, the direction he automatically assigned her to be, and therefore where he sent his wishes, hopes, and calls for help with the unsolvable problems.

While the momentum lasted, he threw all of his focus on Elizabeth and made his muscles continue flexing, rolling to his better side with a sob, and then trying to push himself to his good foot. He got as far as his knees with a scream he couldn't even choke, losing all touch with any reality other than the tidal waves of searing agony crashing through him from his leg and abdomen being forced to move after so long laying still, and his head... his head was splitting apart, it had to be.

Who knew how long he'd been crouched there, whimpering, when Elizabeth's voice rose to a scream, her fear and the pain she felt from *his* agony momentarily spearing through his mind. {JOHN! You have to get up right now! They're coming toward you! Please, you have to get up, please!}

The voice was too close, he couldn't *not* obey, was shifting to his feet without thinking, and stumbling forward. {Where?} His eyes were still closed to try to hold the pain and he hoped she could tell him where to go for safety, because he was damned if he could think right now.

{Turn left. Stop, now go straight. Just a little further, that's it.. There, I've closed the door and locked it. They're not inspecting each room.. let's hope they don't get curious *now*; or notice the blood...} John leaned against the first wall he'd found, letting her voice smooth over him as he breathed shallowly and tried to resist the urge to just slide down and go back to sleep. It was warmer here.. {I turned the heat on earlier, thought it would help you un-stiffen a little, but I don't think the corridor vents worked. You can't stop now, John, I need you to help us.}

The thought of trying to do anything more strenuous than breathing seemed as likely as his spontaneously taking flight, right then. {Elizabeth, I can't fight these people. I tried. And now... what do you intend to do exactly?}

{There's an old self-destruct routine that could be enabled through the computer systems, but when Rodney rerouted the main controls for the city, he ran this one through the chair as a failsafe.}

John could just make sense of that, although he wondered why Rodney hadn't mentioned it before they separated. {Elizabeth?} He thought the name when she didn't answer his question right away; hadn't he said it loud enough?

{Yes?}

He frowned, {Thought you were going to be reading my mind?}

{John..} he could hear the hesitation, {I'm close enough to understand the feelings behind your words. If I get any closer, I don't think I'll have fine enough control to keep from taking over your mind...}

Well *that* woke him up. {*Take over*??}

{John-} He frowned as he lost the connection, painfully reminded of Atlantis no longer talking to him... which, come to think of it, was something he needed to ask about. Assuming- {Sorry. We really have to get moving John. Your corridor is free and I've increased the heat in all of Atlantis... though a lot of systems are down right now.}

{Elizabeth?} He 'spoke' the name more slowly this time, some time on his feet making his brain wake up and start to wonder. Although he did start to move toward the chair room; at this point it was as good a goal as any, he doubted he could pick up the kind of explosives that would do Atlantis any real damage right now, even if he made it to the armoury. {Elizabeth? How.. How do I know it's you?}

He could hear the silence, surprised to realize he could tell the difference between her not speaking, and her not being there. When she finally answered, it was very softly, {You don't. I don't know how to prove myself to you. Stop there.}

John automatically obeyed, listening and hearing footsteps echoing in the distance. {How did you get in Atlantis?}

{The Kirogen brought me. They attacked the Asuran ship where I was held, and destroyed it. The corridor is clear again, you might want to go left; it's a little longer, but the other way seems to have a lot of traffic.}

She was silent as John started stumbling forward again, the bent piece of pipe he was using as a cane wasn't nearly functional enough and every step jarred his leg; and his side. {Keep talking, please. I could really use the distraction.} And he really needed to convince himself this was Elizabeth so he could feel better about letting her into his mind, which he knew he was going to, risk of control or not. He couldn't pass up *any* chance to be closer if it really was Elizabeth...

{So my body was destroyed-} When she stopped again, John could only guess that she'd felt the stab of pain that those words had caused him. Maybe he'd even reacted out loud in the instant that he really accepted that Elizabeth -her physical self- was dead. That he could never hold her, never see her, hear her... *hold* her! {I'm sorry.. I didn't-} The thread of solace that he felt coming from her was mixed with bittersweet realization, {I didn't think that you...}

John was surprised to realize he'd kept moving as he dealt with the blow; maybe that was why he recovered so quickly. Or maybe it was the fact that he was *talking* to Elizabeth, which acted as a pretty strong counter to any feeling of complete despair... He cleared his throat, knowing it was silly but unable to forego the automatic response to discomfort, {-That I loved you?} How much easier those words were to say than he'd ever expected... After so many years hiding from even himself, he'd always assumed he'd be completely unable to say it to Elizabeth; even mentally.

Still surprised at himself, he wasn't sure how to interpret the very quiet response he got, {Yes.}

{Did you really not suspect?} John hadn't thought he'd been *nearly* that skilled at keeping his feelings buried.

The strength of the feelings coming through from.. 'her' was greater now, as though she were letting herself come 'closer', {Sometimes I thought I knew.. but then I convinced myself I was imagining things.} The sadness of loneliness that came with the words was so familiar, it could have been his own, but he wasn't ready to let himself believe all this just yet.

He nudged the conversation back as he got in a transporter, assuming it was safe since his guide hadn't said anything to the contrary, {The Asuran ship was destroyed?} He silently held on tight to the link though, completely unwilling to let go of the connection, however tenuous.

{Yes. But the nanites that were inside me had absorbed my memories; *me*.. in some way or other. The Kirogen found a large number of them still functional and interfaced them to their computer. It's what they do, John, they steal information and use it to get more or sell it. And though they'd never- John!}

His leg had collapsed when he put just a little too much weight on it, the pain making him crumble against the wall, just barely holding himself up on the other leg; and now his stomach had been jostled and complained bitterly. He was trying to breathe through it, breathe past it; wishing like *hell* for a shot of morphine. Or three.

He felt her inch closer again; fear for him, and worry, rising through the connection, {I- I might be able to help hide the pain...}

{How?} He'd take anything at this point!

{If I reach deeper inside your mind, I might be able to shield you from some of the messages from your nerve endings.}

It took a few ragged breaths to work through that, {..Thought you were worried about taking me over?}

{About infiltrating you; yes, I am.}

He jammed himself back upright, his old field stubbornness reasserting itself, {Finish the story.} If he could just be convinced this was his Elizabeth...

{They interfaced the nanites into their computer and forced me.. *them* to hand over our secrets. I'm sorry, that's how they found you, why they even cared.}

{Not your fault. Asurans.} *Another* reason to hate those robots.

{In any case,} there was affection mixed in with the matter-of-factness, just like in the old days when she'd try to keep him in line in briefings, {Everything they downloaded off those nanites remained in their system. The same system they interfaced to Atlantis as soon as they got here. Atlantis fought them as much as it could, but it was losing until it detected me. It.. 'recognized' me, from the memories you'd shared with it, and it decided to free me,} she paused, the sense of an exasperated smirk coming through, {You really *are* a bad influence on everyone you encounter, you know that? Even Ancient computers turn into heroes...} The tease succeeded in making him grin a bit, liking the idea, just as she'd known he would. { Anyway, between us, we've been trying to keep them from getting anything out of the Atlantis archives. But we can't hold out forever. I believe if we enable the self-destruct, they'll leave rather than be killed. And once they're out, we think we can *keep* them out. But the only self-destruct left is the one routed through the chair, they've disabled the rest; or you did.}

John didn't answer, concentrating on turning a corner without falling down; thinking as much as he could through the once again growing haze of agony and confusion. {Okay.}

{What?} He heard the hope through the word and smiled.

{I want you to.. come in. I want you to know what I'm thinking. And I don't think I can take too many more steps without help.}

He could feel her hesitation, {And the danger?}

{I don't care. I believe you are who you say you are,} his lips twitched, {And I'm used to your being my boss and reading my mind...}

{John!} The reprimand didn't carry much weight with the smirk he felt through it.

{Unless.. *you* don't.} It wasn't just *his* thoughts that would be exposed after all, or so he was assuming....

{No. It's.. alright. Ready?} he heard the anxiety as he stopped and leaned back on the nearest wall; smiling now, wondering what this was really going to be like. 'Sending' his complete willingness and faith in her.

Chapter three

At first, the stream of thought was organized, memories of Elizabeth's time with the Asurans, of everything she'd learned of the Kirogen; but then, as though she'd hit an exponential data curve, or mentally stumbled when his own emotions and thoughts hit her, all of a sudden he felt more, more emotions, less order. Longing and sorrow and pain-loneliness-betrayal; affection and caring and love -god *that* felt good! How could feeling someone's...

"Elizabeth."

Somehow saying it out loud made it more real, gave substance and connection to the nebulous feelings and thoughts now hovering around his mind, just barely separate from him; the house next door, with every window and wall transparent and no more restraining than smoke.

{Yes. Hello John.} This time he could *see* Elizabeth's smile, could feel her indulgent affection all around him like the great arms of a hug, feel her respond to his own pleasure -he wondered if she was 'seeing' him grinning like a dope.

Along with the emotional downpour, he could see, skipping by, daisy-chained to each other and to some thought one of them brought to the fore, her mirror-memories of the hundreds of little moments they'd shared over the years, and hundreds where they'd been apart; a lifetime. It was almost overwhelming how much he wanted to bury himself here, sit and watch the stream of her memories and compare them with his; sit and *feel*, even though he felt anger and annoyance at *him* in some.. even *many* of those memories. Even though he responded with shame as he realized how he'd hurt her at times.

It was.. beyond strange to not feel panic of fear or worry at this change in his mind. But he discovered that, contrary to popular legend, *knowing* Elizabeth.. didn't make him love her less. Didn't diminish the sometimes-awe and deep respect he had for her. Didn't even make him feel less like his own self. And how could he worry about her thinking less of him when he was right there as she learned all that *he* was. And *loved* him..

{Hey-} Before she could 'verbally' remind him that they had work to do, he felt the floor shiver under his feet; and Elizabeth was gone.

{NO!} The panic was bone-deep this time, his mind almost gibbering at the sudden freezing loss; too many times loss, he *couldn't*-

{John!} The voice was there before he registered the return of her thoughts; and he was reaching, this time without restraint, trying, desperately trying, to hold on to her, knowing he didn't know *how* to hold *this*.. {John, please.} Love-worry-command, {We have to hurry, they're making a mess of the Atlantis computer with their attempts to take control away from us. I think I've got your pain pathways rerouted, try to walk.}

When John, all too automatically obedient of the woman he'd taught himself to listen to, made his mind focus outward again, he found the pain was indeed a lot less, but now the weakness was more obvious; lack of coordination settling in. He pushed off the wall carefully, his balance made even more iffy as his mind continued to cling to her; a child's terror not yet letting him think clearly on his own. Taking a step, he wished Elizabeth would *talk*; he couldn't focus on making his muscles move at the same time as truly reaching to see her 'mind', and the hunger for her had grown even more overwhelming with that moment of loss. He *needed* to have her within him; 'take over' sounded like heaven...

And then she was there again, giving him her image, in a never-seen red silk shirt and relaxed jeans, no less, to relate to, her 'arms' reaching around him and helping to hold him up; mental imagery at its best, he thought with a grin that she tried to return through her worry. He was too weak; they both knew it wasn't a good sign. {All right. I'm not sure what to talk about though.}

He tried to smile physically, but then switched it to the mental kind; moving his physical body was too taxing. {Anything; everything. What happened to you. What does it feel like to be inside Atlantis.} Do you really love me?

Primary in the wave of feelings that swept up through the presence around him was.. something he would have had a hard time understanding as a teenager. Now.. now he understood soul-deep love; he could barely contain a moan as he felt it rising, felt it as such a part of him. Not merely affection or attraction, but love for a whole person; a soul that you felt drawn to. To have that *aimed* at him... {Yes, I really do,} the feeling of sadness and her sigh were so timed he almost didn't catch the difference, {If I'd known how you feel, *felt*-}

He mentally smiled into her sad eyes, not strong enough to do the mental trick to hug her in his mind while continuing to walk in reality. {Nothing would have been different. They'd have destroyed your career.} And for him, that was the end of the story. He would never risk her career; or her reputation for that matter, for such a selfish reason.

{Even if *I* loved *you*?} Since he felt honest questioning from her, a stillness of curiosity reaching for his real thoughts, he tried to bring to the fore the feeling that swept through him at the idea of being the cause of any harm coming to her.. Only realizing too late the proximity of his worst memories to those feelings. {John. That wasn't your fault..} He could feel her slipping deeper into him, feel his memories of horror and pain coming up to the fore, but also being stroked and shielded with her 'touch', {I *never* blamed you. Saving you, and Rodney, Ronon and Atlantis, was all I had left. I-} He was too tired to speak, but he could still pull out his own memories of denial. Could insist that they would have found a way... {-It doesn't matter. It's done.} The smile she wore was almost cheerful now, a strength he clung to as it wrapped around him, {This isn't so bad, you know. I'd given up hope of ever even *seeing* you again, but this...} He would never have believed that if he couldn't feel for himself how at peace she now was with her state of existence.

Before he could answer, she interrupted, suddenly less present, her attention split away from him, {Atlantis would like to talk to you,} she grinned, trying to cheer him up, {It says I've been hogging the line.} Then he felt the old childlike stream of ideas that was Atlantis, this time with Elizabeth still present. Guiding it, he thought, as Atlantis skittered through his awareness in its version of chatter, leaving the feeling of relief with having a new friend and eagerness to get rid of their attackers, to help. Fear at John's injuries and the pain he was unconsciously sending, even with Elizabeth deflecting.

{He'll be alright,} John heard Elizabeth soothing the computer, smiling at the strange image of a phantom Elizabeth holding an ancient piece of software by the shoulders to reassure it, {He's going to help us, and then we're going to make sure others come to help *him*. Why don't you go back to trying to keep our other friends safe?}

{Rodney?} John felt bad for not having even thought of the others in so long, wondering what else he was forgetting in this injured fog.

Elizabeth re-solidified in his mind, care again surrounding him tightly as she slipped under his uniform black shirt-clad 'arm' to hold him, bringing up her knowledge of everyone's location on a map of Atlantis, her knowledge of their health through memories of watching their encounters and analyzing, {They're.. okay. Some injuries, but all alive. We've been trying to herd them away from danger, but it's not easy when we don't have complete control over Atlantis anymore.} He finally recognized the door to the chair room in front of him and actually sighed in relief, stumbling to a halt as he tried to organize his thoughts to remember what he needed to do to power it. {This control panel,} he looked around for something that fit the image she sent with the words, {Should be th- yes, that one. You'll need to flip these 3 switches, then..}

It took a good 10 minutes to get everything powered and stabilized enough for use and John was feeling weaker with every second. By the time he dropped clumsily into the chair, he was clinging to Elizabeth's connection to stay conscious as his body failed to provide the strength; and instead tried to drag his mind down into unconsciousness. When the Ancient interface responded to his presence and linked him up to Atlantis even more deeply, half his mind couldn't resist the strengthened tug and buried itself in the foggy thought-stream that was Elizabeth, losing himself in her memories and thoughts, drifting in a world made of instants of life, and instants of imagination. He watched with the other half as she slipped in with a reassuring mental touch to his cheek and used his body to run the chair. He was just glad he was off the hook, glad that between his link to her computer-based thoughts and his body's link to Atlantis, she might be able to keep his body awake long enough to finish the job.

He was exploring her memories, taking them in and giving back how *he* felt and moving on to the next pulse of electrical life. Content to wonder if what he 'saw' was his own mind's interpretation of the information it was getting.. or if this really was some kind of 'reality'. He faintly heard the self-destruct activate at the same time as he found a section of memory that he couldn't simply slide into. {Elizabeth?}

She was distracted as she answered his confusion and he heard his own voice, feeling far detached from his thin link to that poor beaten body, going over the loudspeakers saying the city would self-destruct unless the invaders retreated. {They're.. personal, intimate thoughts. I-} In this odd mental imaging they'd developed to communicate, she gave him a slightly embarrassed look, {Fantasies. I tried so long to keep them out of the hands of the Asurans, that I must have.. automatically shielded them again..}

He was half tempted to nod and move on, not wanting to find out about the men she'd known, but another half of him.. couldn't care less. He was so weak now that he could feel himself losing strength, even here. Jealousy took too much energy; he wanted to know she remembered being happy, remembered pleasure, that was all. And he found that he didn't want to have any secrets; he'd always felt so alone that this was blissful, even when he'd stumbled into the mass of furious hurt she'd felt as he disobeyed her orders. She'd cared; and he could make it up to her now, he really could, as amazing as it was to feel her respond to his love with healing.

{..Okay.} He felt the terror she was feeling at his fading strength, {John? I love you, I really do. Please remember that...}

He couldn't lie about their chances, wouldn't, but he could tug on every memory of *his* love, every scrap of affection she'd ever made him feel. He knew she could reach for his memories on her own now, but she was busy fighting for Atlantis. If he brought the memories up she could feel them as she worked, and if he died before she had time to relax.. she'd know that she hadn't been alone either. She laughed a little at some of the silly things that had melted him over the years and he winked, resolutely reaching toward her still-hazed, but now accessible memories. Hoping she would live on after he died.. hoping she would remember him.. would remember she was loved. Regretting that he wouldn't be there to protect her.

He had travelled the land of her memories without her specific guidance up until now, but this time he felt her nudging him and he obeyed without hesitation, trusting her with everything that was left of him. Willing to take her hint; or was it a recommendation? he grinned at the idea before the memory she had tugged-up snared his attention.

And he decided that *this* was indeed a good way to die, if there was such a thing. He tightened the link to her actual -current- thoughts, wanting to feel the *life* there, the echo of her thoughts as she strained to keep his body moving, to get the enemy out of the city and his people organized. He wanted to be connected to her while he 'sat' and watched/felt her favourite daydream. He knew there were other ones right near, if he just shifted his attention ever so slightly.. but right now, sitting in an overstuffed armchair with Elizabeth siting in his jean-clad lap and learning him with her lips... was 'good'. Toying with the capabilities of the strange environment, he inserted how he thought *he* would feel into the daydream, melding it with her thoughts and thoroughly enjoying the thrill of responding pleasure he felt from her.

He hardly had even a thread of connection left to his body and faintly wondered what would happen when he died. Would he cease to exist.. or might Atlantis have stored.. *this*; maybe he'd *also* continue to exist within the city... that might not be so bad. Multi-threading, he could spend the day kissing Elizabeth *at the same time* as he both fixed Rodney's equations *and* set up pranks for him!

*If* he lived. If he didn't.. Oh well. Elizabeth kissing every inch of his jaw as he lolled in comfort was no bad way to fade away from this world.

Chapter four

{John?} Her voice was a tickling, inviting laugh in his ear, {I'd *really* rather continue this, but the Kirogen are out of the city and it looks like Ronon is hesitating to obey 'your' orders; I must not have your accent right.}

It took him a few seconds to drag himself away from being seduced and get back to work; not helped when Elizabeth didn't make any effort to turn off the memory either. He finally whined, {Elizabeth...} perfectly willing to have her laugh at his weakness. And he was suddenly back in a blank, white space with Elizabeth standing besides him, grinning and proud of herself for getting to him so successfully, happy to feel something so human as desire and pleasure.

He didn't even need to be reminded to get to work; it really *was* easier when he could keep half his attention here, pulling Elizabeth into a hug. Really focusing on his body though, made levity pretty much take a back seat. It was so weak that he didn't even try to open his eyes, concentrating on breathing and moving his mouth into words, glad Elizabeth kept the pain at bay and wondering if he could learn the trick to that too now...

{I'll take care of putting you on the city-wide speakers.} At the same time as she spoke, she also sent him a complete update on the tactical situation, letting him decide what to do for himself rather than telling him; letting him remain leader of the city, regardless of her presence and his automatic deference.

"Ronon, this really *is* Sheppard. I'm badly injured and in the chair room. You need to get to McKay in.. the room flashing on the console to your left. He's in the middle of crawling out of a lower cupboard and badly injured too. Atlantis has a shield up that should keep our 'friends' out of the city, but Rodney should probably look it over. Everybody converge... in the gateroom. I'm pretty sure I can operate the Stargate and.. get the folks from.. the Alpha site ov-" he had to stop as he ran out of breath and spit, feeling Elizabeth trying to feed him strength through the chair. And failing. His mind -thoughts- felt ok, clear and ready to run.. which was beyond odd when he felt his body so weak and damaged.

"If.. if the city.. seems to.. try to.. communicate, it's.. me.. just.. do as it- *I*, ask." {You'd better get the Stargate open so I can give the Alpha site their orders.} He didn't need to add that he wasn't doing well; they'd already had the 'I'm dying' conversation.

He felt her frustration as some system or other failed to respond to her and Atlantis' orders to operate the 'gate and he started wondering, again, even while he concentrated hard to keep his body calm, if there was a way to keep existing in the same state as she was. {Elizabeth?} Now that he thought of it, he was surprised she hadn't answered the question the first time he'd had it, but this time he could almost hear the resounding silence. Could feel her keeping herself from thinking.

The lack of response sent a shiver of uncertainty through him, making him literally shudder, and worry. She *knew* he didn't mean to imply anything about how she had landed here... knew why he wanted to stay.. why would she block him? He shivered, dizzy; damn it, maybe he'd been right the first time -he started puling back into his hollow shell of a body, making himself try to shield his thoughts away from her- he *wasn't* good enough, he always made a mess, angered her... A part of his own mind was trying to argue that her memories had said otherwise, but the wilful silence was too real and he was pulling back, feeling worse, sick and alone, overwhelmed with fear and pain, with every microsecond that he retreated into his dying body, almost gibbering with the nightmarish memories of his past that were now rising.

{JOHN!} The mental scream made him jerk, agony shearing up from his whole body, individual injuries long since made insignificant with fever and infection. {No! Stop! Just stop and let me explain! John!}

He was cold, even as the fire of pain flowed under his frozen skin. His body wouldn't move, but in his mind, he curled into a tight ball, into a dark corner that appeared just as he had the wish to hide. Something was wrong, he very faintly knew that, but it didn't matter. Pain was all that mat- {*Listen* to me. You have to let me in, John, you'll feel better, I promise you. Just let me in!}

He heard the words, but they just didn't make sense. Pain. Pain pain and more pain. Somehow he knew the voice was familiar, but that didn't mean anything to him. There had only ever been pain. There would only ever be pain... {NO! Damn it, you stubborn man. Let me in!} When the voice disappeared, the pain was greater, but at least he could lose himself in it without the constant jabbing at his attention, adapt to it, get used to it...

Then the presence was back, and twice as strong; a battering ram of thought slamming at the shell he hadn't known was around him. He didn't fight it, had no concept of it as he stayed curled in himself and existed through the pain.

Then he wasn't alone anymore. {John.. I'm so sorry, come back. Please, it's alright, come back.} Soft, that was the word for that feeling, he remembered.. love, that was that one, hug, protection, strength... He was pulled out of his ball in confusion, the dark corner vanishing and replaced with a soft armchair-

And Atlantis was tugging on John's pant-leg as he blinked, the pain gone, breathing deep, eyes wide, wondering what the hell- {You were pulled into your body-} He automatically held on to Elizabeth's waist carefully as she broke off and bent down from her seat on his lap. Bent down and pulled a toddler up; one with eyes as deep, blue and unfathomable as the event horizon of the gate and skin that immediately made John think of the city in the starlight, dark and glimmering mysteriously.

He could feel Elizabeth doing something to his thoughts, even as he tried to re-adjust to her presence there, to actually feeling a link to her and to.. Atlantis... The little boy in Elizabeth's arms, in a miniature of the uniform red shirt and black pants she used to wear, reached for him and he hesitantly shifted around until he had an arm free for him. Not saying anything, but feeling the mental hug full of blocky, childish emotions that had always been Atlantis; only stronger now, and coming from the small body stiffly holding him. He turned his eyes to the woman cuddling under his other shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his chest, calmly stroking the child-Atlantis' bare wrist. How this could feel so right, so like where he belonged, he wasn't sure, but it did. Feeling his thoughts and emotions sliding into place among Elizabeth's, John never wanted to move.

She nuzzled his neck gently, {You were right, your body *is* dying. What I didn't realize was that *because* it's your body, it has a lot more pull on you than.. than me.} He could feel her memories again now, and as she brought them up, could grasp for himself that the fever in his brain had affected his thinking; the blood-loss overruling reason. {I wasn't affected when I was using you because my.. 'base', my 'self', is here. But you-}

{I accepted it as reality.} He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, feeling how scared she'd been to feel him slipping away from her in terror.

She nodded against him, {And once you'd locked yourself in, I wasn't strong enough to get through, so I got Atlantis to help.}

He looked at the little boy, and fixated suddenly on his hair, {Is that...}

Elizabeth giggled a little and he loved feeling the relief that was coursing through her thoughts at his safe 'return', {He chose who he is. I think he understands that to us he feels like a child.. so that's what he made himself. And he *likes* you.}

John chuckled, knowing both 'people' in his mind felt how much it meant to him; how much the idea of a child with his hair, that looked up to Elizabeth as to a mother.. brought him a joy he knew wouldn't last.

{It can.} Elizabeth sat up so she could catch his eye, both of them used to the visual contact emphasizing conversations, {Atlantis *has* taken as much of a scan of your mind as it, and my knowledge of Asuran technology, can arrange. *If* it's really what you want, the instant your brain function ceases, it will make sure you have a memory core to be safe in.} He could feel the apology behind her words, knew now that she didn't want him choosing this 'life' simply because of her, even though she *did* want him. Missed him and desperately wanted the connection to her human origin.

He pulled them both tighter to him, hesitantly nuzzling Atlantis' spiky mess of shimmering hair and rewarded with a strangely 'wrong'-sounding childish giggle and a surprised happiness skipping through him. John closed his eyes and laid his head back, refusing to regret what he'd missed out on in 'life'. {I want it. And I am not 'settling', either. The two of you have been my life for a *long* time, now.} He'd regret the grief his friends would feel, but that was inevitable; at least this way he could still help them, still be a part of their lives. {Wait! What about the 'gate?} Part of him was still scrambling to clean the mess from his mind and he only now remembered the last thing they'd been doing.

{Only a few seconds have passed, John, it's alright. Atlantis is rerouting power away from those crystals you shot up when the Kirogen arrived, it won't take much longer.}

{And then?} He didn't want to get sucked in again...

{You won't,} He felt a grim determination under the words, {What you felt earlier was my tying a.. 'mental' chain between us. I won't let you go back in without me, *us*, to shield you. And if you get lost, I'll pull you back out.} She watched him steadily to confirm that this was what he wanted, and his lips twitched as he felt her *actually* reading his mind.. rather than his just *feeling like* she was doing it. She rolled her eyes at his humour and slipped a different fantasy into his mind.

John started laughing a little breathlessly -and wondering how long he would continue to react as though he had a body- {You want to tie me up??}

Elizabeth smirked, {Sometimes-}

The laughter vanished as he felt all on his own the power grid change. {Time to go.} He pulled his family into a last hug before they all shifted environments and he found himself with Elizabeth; Atlantis back to being a thin presence in his 'mind'. {You've got me, right?}

She slid her hands behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss in response. They were just getting the hang of concentrating enough to actually, 'physically', kiss when they both realized that they had to get back to work for now. She smiled gently, {I've got your six, colonel. Go save the day.}

----

The Alpha site finally received their orders to return, in a whisper, and then John had to argue to make Elizabeth keep his thoughts awake, separate from his body as it finally fell into unconsciousness. {I don't care if there's a chance I'll live. The chance isn't changed by where my thoughts are and I'm not wasting another second alone!} If Keller made it to Atlantis in time to hook his body up to machines, who knew *how* long they'd be apart...

She was worried rather than angry as she stood before him, {The longer you spend here, the looser your link to your body. I'm not going to leave you, John, I'll come w-}

{No.} He gripped her shoulders gently and pulled her close. They'd done all they *needed* to; he reckoned they were allowed, due even, some downtime. His hands slowly slid to cup her jaw, holding her close enough that they would be breathing each other's air if this was the real world. Her *eyes* were his world, dark green gates full of love and sadness, {No. You said you can keep a link to it alive. That's enough. The rest of my life, *however* I live it, is going to be with you. If my body is more 'distant'-} he shook his head, smiling and bringing their foreheads together, {So be it. It's only going to live another 40 years or so anyway, whereas *I*...}

{John..} she was sad now, rather than insistent, {Your post here isn't permanent. We both know you can be recalled-}

His jaw tightened, {No, absolutely *not*! If the Air Force tries to reassign me, I'll quit,} he could hear the arguments rising and shook his head, {No. Whatever it takes, I'm not leaving you and Atlantis.} And if that meant hiding a stasis pod in the depth of the city, putting his body in it and sending his mind into a data core, then that was just *fine*.

{John!}

He shrugged at her appalled reaction, refusing to let her step out of his arms, {Elizabeth..} he sighed, {We'll deal with whatever happens, ok? I finally have you back and there is no way in hell I'm giving you, or the 'little one',} he grinned again as he thought of that spiky hair, {Up. I can be a sneaky sonofabitch when I'm pissed; no one is going to shift me from reach of the city, not without killing me.. and then I win by default.}

She stopped fighting him as she accepted his rock-hard, stubbornness on the topic, unable to hide the relief she felt in knowing she wouldn't have to let him go.

Their emotions swirled together, even as he felt the change in the link that signalled that the original argument had become moot as his body passed out and his thinking stayed within Atlantis. Grief and regret over the chances they'd both lost rose and comforted each other as Atlantis guided the people still in the city out of their foxholes and safely to the gateroom.

John dragged Elizabeth to their little world, where he decided he *really* liked that armchair, and she relaxed and teased him that there were things that it was a little small for, though they both resisted the temptation to test that theory right away. Fully aware that they *were* going to 'go there', but they didn't want it to be a rush. To let the fear of losing each other again guide them so far.

Relaxing and holding her, warm and soft in his arms, John found that if he closed his eyes and let is mind roam unformed, he could feel her memories as though they were his own.. but he retreated. He didn't want to *be* Elizabeth, he just wanted to know her; have her know him. Have her know he loved her.

{I do.} He grinned to feel the kiss on his cheek, coming back to focus on that armchair again. Kissing had been a different pleasure here, he remembered. Her lips brushed his as he had the thought, laughing together as he admitted she had much clearer memories of how to feel things here. How to focus on what skin and muscle felt like, how to fuse tactile memory with the touch they were creating, his and hers both- {Sure you want to exist in this forever? A lot of work for just one kiss.}

John grinned as she continued to drop nibbles on his lips, {Well worth the reward.} And it was; feeling the love in her every word and touch, the humour he'd only ever gotten to experience the edges of. Hell, maybe he'd learn to *enjoy* diplomacy, if *she* convinced him...

----

In the end, doc Keller *did* manage to pull his body through, though it was unconscious for a couple of days. And rather than start a long argument over consoles, once John and Elizabeth saw that he was likely to live, they laid low, letting Rodney order repairs from his own bed in the infirmary as Teyla organized the cleanup. Atlantis shielded the extra passengers in its computer system away from the scientists' view and they waited for John to wake and explain the new state of affairs to everyone.

When the day finally came, it was Elizabeth that felt the change first, the body at the other end of her thread healing enough to sustain itself. And as much as John wanted to continue his little holiday, {What? I haven't had a day off in eight months!}

Elizabeth smirked at him, bringing up every memory of his trying to make her rest, {Not so easy to just take a break when you're in charge of a city, is it?}

{I didn't *want* a day off, then. There was nothing...} For a second, he was lost in the memories, but then Elizabeth hugged him and he remembered that that time was over. He had a new life now. As an added reminder of that, Atlantis popped into being, clinging to both their necks and laughing at their surprise. John looked at him and grinned, {We're going to have to make a bedroom door, Elizabeth. One with a good lock...}

----

"So that *wasn't* you ordering the Kirogen out of here?"

John shook his head gently, his body feeling like hell warmed over, "No, Elizabeth was running my body at that point, I was.. feeling a little on the weak side."

Ronon looked at the doctor, standing by John's bed along with the rest of the command team, and asked bluntly, "How do we know it's him *now*?"

Keller pointed at one of the monitors scattered around, "Brainwave monitor. It doesn't match his old one *perfectly*.. but it's more than close enough. And if he's still 'hooked' to Atlantis in some way.. that would account for the small change." Though she didn't look all that reassured by her own words.

John watched the big guy frown, unconvinced and obviously under stress, probably worried about his wife working too hard with John out of commission and Rodney off his feet. {Maybe you should come out and say hi, Elizabeth, then they'd see the difference...} he pulled back as she agreed and 'stepped' passed him, both of them hearing their friends exclaiming at the changes in the monitor.

"Hi guys." John sat silently on the sidelines as she smiled at their friends, wondering if he looked different when she ran things, watching their reaction through her and hoping she could convince them of who she was, "John tells me some congratulations are in order, Teyla!"

----

{Well that went better than it could have.} The impromptu briefing had ended when Keller ordered John and Rodney both to get more rest, a much calmer Ronon dragging Teyla to her own bed, with the complete reinforcement of everyone else. John had been glad to see everyone start to relax when Elizabeth revealed a well-chosen secrets for each person, one that only she and they would have been aware of. Watching them change had once again driven home how much she'd been missed by *everyone*, not just him, and he knew it eased their minds to accept that it was really her, that she was once again watching over the city.

He hadn't even had to speak up for protecting her existence; Rodney had been the first to point out that the powers that be would almost certainly suspect Elizabeth of duplicity, of being a danger. Or, at best, they would want to study her. John had metaphorically tapped Elizabeth's shoulder and taken the reins again to agree with him, and to argue that they could easily hide anything she did as Atlantis waking up further from contact with John.

A few more plans made and updates shared, and everyone's obvious tiredness had led to easy agreement when Keller laid down the law for her patients. And now, John lay back uncomfortably, his body still a fevered mess, even if it was on the mend. And argued with the woman in his life about where he got to sleep.

{It would be better for your body if you-}

He followed his link back out to her, this time keeping his own thread to his body; to prove that he meant to be responsible. He found the memory pocket with their chair and pulled her into it with him, cuddling into a familiar position with a sigh of pleasure, glad to leave his body behind, {It would be better for *me* to spend my nights with *you*. Just like we have up until now.}

{Umm, you mean exploring through the Ancient database?}

She was trying for an idle tone as she willingly relaxed in his hold, the fingers of one hand playing in the hair at his nape, but he knew very well she was teasing him, trying to get a reaction. He sighed dramatically, happy enough to play along, {What? *You* of *all* people know I like math. And some of the things they explored...} He'd greedily absorbed every bit of knowledge she had of Ancient just so that he could dig into the archive he'd found, full of fractionally-familiar math symbols; and then Atlantis had bopped him over the head with the language, whole and unabridged, making both he and Elizabeth feel silly for not asking. But then he'd lost himself in a long-abandoned passion for wild theories.. that turned out to not have all been so wild after all.

And Elizabeth had snickered at him every time she took a break from the histories *she'd* gotten stuck in. He could take the laughter; it was only when she started comparing him to Rodney that he tackled her back to their couch for a break. {Why did you *think* I brought him up?}

He smiled at the thought, {You know, you *could* have just walked up and kissed me if you were feeling frisky...}

She poked his stomach, snorting, {More fun the other way, colonel. Wouldn't want you to turn into a *complete* stick in the mud.}

{Hey!!} Sliding his hands into Elizabeth's hair and pulling her close for an instantly possessive kiss filled him with a feeling of glory, strength, power and cherishing passion; the attention to detail needed to maintain skin and touch were second nature now, as natural as dancing. Sometimes they did this slow and sensuous, leaving themselves utterly open to each other, feeding off each other's need for ever more closeness; but not this time. The relief of knowing he would live, of speaking with their friends and being believed, and seeing *their* relief and joy, had left them both a little high on the good side of life; John wasn't allowing his job of administrator and his reawakened passion for numbers to damage his image as the brash flyboy, not with that wonderful high to feed off of.

Neither a game of pretend nor a physical exercise of sensation; sliding his tongue around teeth and wet, wanton tongue was a last-stand flag to humanity. To the difference between artificial intelligence and preserved organic thought; their unapologetic grasp at the one part of what had drawn them together that didn't automatically translate here. They remembered, between them, the attraction that had made them gravitate together until they came to know each other and discovered other attractors. The trick of physical characteristics and nature's magnetism that made sex a part of how they thought and saw each other was not something either was willing to abandon on the simple premise that the material link was gone. They each remembered both themselves and the other, and between those templates, they could create a satisfying facsimile of life in their own little world.

And so they maintained the self-knowledge to know when they were 'out of breath', and John lifted his head, pleased with the little moan of complaint Elizabeth gave as he held himself an inch over her parted lips as she laid across his lap, head on his arm, hands fisted in his t-shirt. His heart was pounding, even only aware of the edge of her reaction; they definitely couldn't do *this* while wide open to each other, they'd go up in smoke. He grinned, watching her eyes open slowly as his free hand snuck to the bottom of her red shirt. He brought his mouth back to hers, nudging her lips apart and suckling her tongue into taking him while his fingers found access to warm, shivering skin, and slid slowly upward.

Even partially shielded, he still felt how much she wanted him; and what he was making *her* feel with his need. By the time he wrapped his palm over a silk-covered breast, Elizabeth's hands were buried in his hair, holding him close as he nibbled his way to her throat. {John?}

He felt the questioning poke at his thoughts and spared a hum of acknowledgement before suckling at the pulse-point he'd found, thinking as she moaned so needily that there was only Atlantis to notice if he gave her a hickey...

{John... Wait, listen... Stop.}

He really didn't want to.. and she really didn't want him to... but he could feel urgency rising in her now and made himself focus on her words; on her un-shielding thoughts... {Your body.}

He blinked, {Uh? What about it. I'm keeping a grip on it.}

Elizabeth stroked a finger along his nape, smiling happily, {I know you are. That's the problem. You are in the middle of the infirmary..}

He followed the train of her thoughts, literally, and swallowed hard, straightening and bringing her up to sit more decorously as he cleared his throat. Ignoring the carefree giggle Elizabeth choked down; ignoring, too, the heat he could feel on his face. {Maybe we'd better play at 'old married couple' until the doc lets me go somewhere a little more private.}

{Ummhumm, maybe we'd better, my brash colonel.}

With a grin, John laid his head back and closed his eyes, cuddling her close; letting his thoughts drift, feeling Elizabeth do the same. A quiet evening at home by any other name.. complete with a toddler wanting to sleep with mom and dad. He laughed as they shifted themselves to accommodate the little body in sleeping-flannel.

It was good to laugh again; to *love* again.

----

A few days later, released from the infirmary but still on very light duty, John was trying to explain the way Atlantis and Elizabeth existed, hesitantly explaining the city's taking on the appearance and place of a child. With Elizabeth watching over his shoulder, feeling cheerful and energized from having contact with her friends again, he actually felt that he could get to appreciate his job; between his own satisfaction at protecting his people, even if in a different way than he used to, and Elizabeth's love of the challenge of keeping the peace... Yeah, this wasn't settling anymore, it was discovering a new skill, a new place where he could belong.

Now he just had to make their friends understand what was really going on; just why and how answers were suddenly appearing on terminals in the instant that scientists posed questions. Sometimes even *before* they thought to ask, which was even harder to dismiss from geniuses. "Atlantis was always aware of us, of everyone, but its understanding just wasn't up to interpreting most of what we needed, even with the Ancient gene. Elizabeth is teaching it to understand more. You have no idea how much information in still in there." He almost hated to give away how much he could be interested in scientific data, after all the times he'd enjoyed poking fun at all the geeks...

Rodney interrupted with a frown, "That's all fine, colonel, but the last time that Ancient computers were treated like children, we ended up with replicators trying to destroy us!"

John blinked slowly, replying very mildly, "Rodney, are you implying that Elizabeth would allow our child to become a monster?" So much for avoiding making a point of his considering Atlantis his son, but he was concentrating on more important things, suddenly.

He knew it didn't take seeing his hands fist for his old team to know he was pissed, and he stared at the scientist hard as the man scrambled a jerky reply, "No, no of course not! But-"

"Rodney. Drop it," John snarled, losing some of the fight with his control, "We will *destroy* the city before we allow that to happen; *as you damned well should know!*" Clenching his teeth to keep from shouting, he stared at the rest of his people, glad to see they weren't doubting him; he looked back at his friend and used the calmest tone he could with Elizabeth still snarling in his thoughts and half-heartedly trying to take control to do her own yelling, "Rodney, I think you should apologize. Right now, and very sincerely. Otherwise, believe me, Elizabeth has ways of getting even..."

It only took the man a few seconds to get his meaning and stare at the nearest Atlantis console as though it were a poisonous snake, "But that's just it! If anyth-"

"RODNEY!"

John's brows rose at Teyla's shout. Well *that* was rare. {She was up and walking around late last night, I think Rodney just caught the heat for her son..} John grinned at the vindictive words, catching a hint of a bittersweet thought about the league of mothers and making a note to question her later, for now turning to listen as Rodney split his wary attention between the console, Teyla and John himself.

"Okay, fine. I apologize. I'm sorry that I have *no* idea how a parent keeps a ten-thousand-year-old child from developing a human-hating ego. But I will hereby trust that Elizabeth can manage it."

It took a second to catch the implication of that and grumble, "Hey!!" John definitely didn't appreciate being made into an absentee father by the scientist, "If you're implying that I'm not going to be involved in keeping my son on the straight path, Rodney, I'll have you know I'm a lot meaner with pranks, so..."

AN: There's one SG-1-ish reference in all that.. eheh, anyone catch it? How about.. Voyager? Enterprise? the Vorkosigan series? no? dang.

well I hope you at least enjoyed ;), I have this feeling its nothing like what you had in mind, way back when... but I've discovered.. that's the name of the game

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