Standing
on the edge
Author: wanderingsmith
start Mar 2008....end ....Mar 2009?? oy. hey, it ended at
least!
Summary: Giftfic! Rewriting the end of 4x02:Lifeline (read AN)
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
AN: sigh, I am made of fail, I'm afraid.. my mind has been, and is
still, so focused elsewhere.. I am terribly short and terribly late and
very draftilly rough.. but still.. hope it was a happy birthday
leave_me_light
I came up with this thought before I saw Lifelines and choose
to go with it anyway. So, this is an AU Lifelines. They found a
replicator
ship to steal ZPMs from instead of going to the planet.
yes I'm melodramatic. yes I like black and white emotions. Life is a
bitch of compromising and never really finding anything to make up for
those compromises; I *live* that, same as everyone else.. I just damn
well have no interest in facing it all over again in my head. so I
write a simpler world (I do *read* the others... but I don't want to
write it). duty and honour may come first, but they should not be
allowed to spiderweb you into the fraction-of-a-life that is reality.
die for those you love if you have to. die with them if you can.
'We'll find her.' Ronon's words were reverberating in his mind,
hope and hopelessness at the same time. When they turned the
corridor corner and he saw Elizabeth straining to hold Oberoth in
thrall, John had two seconds to choose the path to take. She
didn't look as though she could hold him much longer, and obviously, if
she let go, they would all die. And Atlantis would die. But
if she didn't..
"Go!" he shoved Ronon down the corridor, "Tell Rodney to hit the gas
and get you both to Atlantis asap!" When the man opened his mouth
to protest, John shook his head, turning to run toward Elizabeth as he
yelled, "We'll find another way off! Get the hell out of here!"
Suddenly aware of John's presence, Elizabeth stiffened, the agony in
his
eyes when she'd forced him to acknowledge her likely demise coming back
to her with with a premonitory terror even as she struggled to keep him
and the others safe, "Get *OUT* of here Jo-" Her furious shout stopped
as he put his free hand on her bare neck and the defences she was using
to hold Oberoth left her unable to stop her nanites from connecting to
him.
The distant reality of the danger he was putting himself in was
irrelevant; Atlantis was now in Rodney's hands. The path he'd
reconfirmed within himself in those two seconds was to keep Elizabeth
safe; whatever the cost to *him*. He had to trust that their
friends would protect Atlantis; and he would kill himself -kill
Elizabeth- before allowing either of them to be a danger.
But until that danger became real, he'd spend his last breath keeping
her alive; whether she wanted him to or not.
Without knowing or caring how, he found himself in a featureless, hazy,
dark room, standing next to Elizabeth as she fought to keep Oberoth
from driving his hand into her forehead. He knew this wasn't real; he
hadn't expected to be dragged into her mind, but there was no time to
wonder at the whys. He wrapped his hand around her wrist,
instinctively adding his strength to pushing away the Asuran.
"Ah. The self-sacrificing one."
"Not this time," he growled at the sneering machine, concentrating on
trying to give Elizabeth his strength through their skins' contact,
knowing that the physical struggle in this metaphorical vision wasn't
the real danger. He could feel Elizabeth's annoyance at the edge of his
mind now and tried to reach for her, the years working with Atlantis
and the chair coming in handy suddenly.
And then they were connected, unruly emotions -nothing like Ancient
software programs!- mixing with his own pain, terror, anger and
sadness; mixing, amplifying and struggling to both merge and stay
apart. They were both too angry about the situation, too focused
on their duty to the end of all else, to suddenly be able to
communicate easily. Had been hiding from themselves so firmly
that being exposed to another was twice the shock.
Still and all, the deadly danger was too real and the adrenaline
pumping too fiercely for basic clarity not to override their instincts
to protect, both each other and their people.
Oberoth's eyes went blank, unable to hold out against their
automatically combined strength, and John wrenched himself out of the
vision with a gasp, able to see the way to get in and out now, through
his connection with Elizabeth.
"That's it," he had to catch his breath, between the dislocation and
the actual physical weakness he felt as Elizabeth drew from him,
however unwillingly, "Let's go." He struggled to ignore as much
as
he could of the emotions and thoughts boiling next to and within his
mind, his years as a soldier clawing a desperate need for action at
him, and, shifting his grip to her hand, he tried to tug her to
move. They had to go; now now now!
Elizabeth's eyes opened, resisting his pull with strength that wasn't
hers, glaring hard at him even as her anguish at his choice writhed at
the edge of his need to save them, "No. I can't hold him-"
{Save yourself, for God's sake!}
But John only tightened his grip, glaring back just as stubbornly,
denying the terror that he wouldn't be able to convince her, "*We*
can. I am not leaving you behind but I don't really want to die
here," his glare faded into a silent plea, "Use my strength," {Use
*me*.}, "Together we can hold him long enough for the others to get
away, now lets *go*!" {I am NOT leaving you, no matter what you decide!}
{John-}
He shook his head at the pain and regret; hers or his, he was starting
to lose track. All their feelings -{God I love you.}- swirling
and mixing and taking far too much of his attention away from their
danger. He pulled sharply on her hand, gripping onto anger to
keep himself focused, {No! We *BOTH* live. You are not goddamn
expendable. Not to me. Let's GO!}
When she tripped at his sharp tug, he caught her against him to keep
her upright and whispered desperately, "I want to *live*. Please
'Lizabeth." {Just *found* you! Want to feel more of this..} He
had to convince her.. Swallowing thickly, John let the longing he felt,
the years-old loneliness and the half-denied, slowly-rising joy at
their mental closeness all free. Letting her *see* him, even
along with the terrible urgency to *move*, to get away, that made his
pulse pound.
Elizabeth didn't want to agree, he could feel that. But he wasn't
going to be budged. They could stand here together and die.. or
they could run together and at least try to survive. And she
couldn't fool herself into thinking he had any doubts, or that she
could change his mind. She *knew* his mind.
"What can we do?"
John's hands clenched on her shoulders, relief washing through him {Oh
thank god, Elizabeth!}. He pulled her into a tight hug,
scrambling for a plan, "Shuttle bay. These things have shuttle
bays, right?"
He stood quietly holding her the five seconds he felt her hunting for
the
data, rebuilding his awareness of their danger and trying to understand
enough of their connection to actively help her hold off the bad guys.
He felt the victory before she even spoke, "Yes! This way."
When Elizabeth started pulling him, he didn't say a word, letting her
guide them and keeping his attention on giving her strength to continue
holding Oberoth as they ran further and further, down a dizzying maze
of corridors.
They were only halfway there when they lost control and the Asurans
woke, immediately converging on them. Elizabeth shifted their
path
every chance she had, both of them running full tilt, even under the
growing mutual
awareness that they wouldn't make it.
Then she stopped, "It's too late. They're all around us."
Her voice was resigned, though she couldn't keep John from knowing that
she was still terribly angry that he was throwing his life away.
Ignoring the silent accusation that he should have lived, should be
watching their city, John continued looking around for a way -there
would be time enough for recriminations if they survived- and his eyes
were caught by the star field outside the window next to them, "Not
*all* around..."
Elizabeth didn't bother looking out, instead staring at him as though
he'd gone mad. {John??}
Turning to her, knowing that in less than a minute they were going to
be captured, he shrugged carelessly, "At least we won't be
prisoners." {We won't betray Atlantis.} A part of him wanted to
grin manically, feeling like a wicked child cheating fate... but he
felt too much grief over the lost future to be able to; was too aware
of the responsibilities he'd advocated on the slim chance of their
making it out of here.
"We'll die."
He shrugged again, clipping his gun to his vest and taking her hands in
each of his, "You won't. You'll go to sleep..." he hesitated,
knowing she could read why and knowing that hesitation lost its meaning
when you could read each other's thoughts, but needing that instant to
gather his courage. "And if you give some of your nanites..." his
jaw clenched, wondering briefly which of them was more terrified of the
thought, "Then I'll live a little longer too." {Just a few more
seconds together..}
He felt the enemy getting too close and couldn't wait any longer.
He
pulled explosives out of his pack and stuck them to the material
keeping space at bay, hoping that it would be enough to blow it.
Hoping that there wasn't some damned shield out there. He pulled
Elizabeth around the nearest corner to blow the charge, mentally
counting down the number of steps the nearest Asuran needed to get to
them.
He didn't notice Elizabeth's final acceptance of reality and he didn't
feel the nanites passing through his skin. But about the time he
triggered the detonator, the disjointed connection between them
solidified.
{I'm controlling them. They won't control you as long as I live.}
Ignoring the fleeting terror that crawled through him at the
realization that he now had nanites in his body, John let her pull them
in line with the gap he'd created into airless space, feeling
his lungs briefly shut down before something made him stop struggling
to try to use them. When the air differential sucked at them too
much even for her increased strength, Elizabeth let go the wall
protrusion she'd used and let them get blown out into the frozen
emptiness.
Knowing they were free of the replicators and feeling the overwhelming
cold start to sear his soft tissues, John watched his hand merge with
Elizabeth's, wishing he could have avoided comparing it to those mind
probes.
{You don't have enough nanites to survive. This is the fastest
way to transfer mine.}
In the unmoving space, their bodies locked -froze- with their eyes
focused on each other in that last serious moment. But her
thoughts were lighter, the Elizabeth he knew and loved having given up
on anger as they finally let themselves speak to each other rather than
clash and fight and strike out in anger as they'd been doing.
{You love me?}
John laughed mentally at the almost coy tone of the words, aware that
his body was dying, one cell at a time... Aware that hers was too,
enough human flesh left for the damage to happen. {Yes.
Didn't want you to die alone. Surrounded and slowly destroyed by
those...}
{Machines?}
Except that they were both machines too, now; by their own human
standards. Dying flesh and blood.. and robots. If John had
still believed in God and heaven, he'd have worried whether there were
still souls present here too. But the future didn't matter as
much as
the last chance to make peace with the woman who had given his life a
better path than lost wandering for the last three years.
{I am so sorry I didn't stand by you.} He neither hid nor tried
to force on her the anguish he'd felt as he saw her position endangered
and forced himself to play Judas; that he might retain just enough
access and power to help her somehow. He wasn't made for
double-dealing and knew now that in trying, he'd messed it up from both
ends.
{Is that why-}
The question was utterly gentle, searching for confirmation rather than
accusing; a tender care he'd only imagined he was reading in her eyes
and smile now sliding into his thoughts. Nothing could make him
forgive the existence of the nanites. But having this knowledge,
even here at the end, had a sweetness he'd be hard-pressed to
refuse. As much as he wanted to
be able to make love to her all night.. at least *neither* of them died
alone and
abandoned. {No. I faced losing you when I had to; when it was the
better alternative that I knew you would demand. I wasn't going
to allow it to happen when I had a choice!} Even if the choice
was to die together.
{I wanted to be angry with you.}
{Weren't you?} He thought he'd burned that bridge back then...
{No. Not really. I felt foolish for thinking you should
stand by me even though you didn't agree-}
{I *would* have!}
{That's not the point anymore. I didn't blame you. I
accepted that it was the end of my time on Atlantis. And when I
tried to sleep... for once I didn't let myself feel guilty for
dreaming...}
The ghostly images that he saw then made John mentally grin foolishly,
faintly
aware that his life was fading but unwilling to let that matter.
They floated peacefully, both weakening; choosing to spend their last
moments exchanging quiet, almost-innocent fantasies rather than
continuing to struggle through the deep dark secrets of their
soon-to-end troubled lives... {John?}
His mind jerked, {I.. think I'm dying..} He refused to be sad in
his last moment of life, instead focusing on the love he felt, on the
feeling she was sending him; clinging to every last instant and
praying that, when he was no
longer there, she wouldn't begin to regret what had been his choice...
Their eyes had stopped focusing so neither saw the Apollo drop out of
warp, all they knew, was that suddenly they were laying on the
floor of a warm cargo hold; surrounded with cocked P-90s.
John was just barely aware of Elizabeth's hand un-merging from his, and
then of the
guns shifting ever so slightly, their aim suddenly more on her and more
menacing, un-reasoning fear flashing in the soldiers' eyes. He
threw his barely responsive body over to cover hers, yelling, "I asked
her to! Don't shoot, damn it!" It wasn't that he didn't
understand the fear of replicators, but he was damned if he was going
to
watch her die at the hands of their own people.
With his lips at her ear, he scrabbled for her hand with one of his
and
whispered, soto voice, "Merge them again, that way they can't just
beam you away from me." He hoped, anyway.
As she did, he heard a new set of footsteps enter the room and Colonel
Carter ordering the marines to stand down. The adrenaline (and
the bloody nanites probably) was doing quick work of the frost damage
to his body and he managed to get to his feet, keeping their hands
connected and shifting slowly until Elizabeth's back was to a bulkhead
as he stood in front of her, only their hands showing. {They
won't shoot me so easily. And don't even think of letting me
go. You *know* I won't let them hurt you. If you let them
separate us they'll just kill me as I try to get to you.}
"Colonel Carter."
"Colonel Sheppard, I need you to step away-"
"No. Sorry ma'am, we don't mean anyone any harm but I'm not
letting anyone separate us."
"Dr. Weir?"
"He means what he says. I'd just be making things worse to try to
be the heroine."
{Think you can make one of those shields around us like the Asurans
use?}
"Look colonel, just-" he stopped as he felt Elizabeth's
satisfaction and saw a shield shimmer to life around them, "Just let us
off at the first planet with a stargate.. we won't hurt anyone.. you
have our word."
"Colonel-"
John shook his head, "I resign, by the way. And it's no use
negotiating. You can't get to us... may as well let us off.. or
do you really want to hand us to your scientists to take apart?"
He'd heard enough stories of the various members of SG1 being
threatened to be treated like guinea pigs... he doubted she'd do it..
even more so as Elizabeth correlated his estimation.
{Do you really want to go on the run, John?}
{It's not my first choice, but compared to the alternatives?
Yeah. Exile is better.} They'd *both* be treated like
prisoners and dissected for their nanites if the government got a hold
of them.
Colonel Carter left without another word, though the marines refrained
from
re-cocking their weapons at least. When she came back, less than
an
hour later, John and Elizabeth were sitting on the floor, within their
shield but otherwise at ease, discussing what they could do, what they
*had* to do for safety, what-
"Okay."
They both stood, facing her side by side, hands still merged -though
more out
of automatic wish for connection than anything else-. Wish that
had
already resulted in John hesitantly refusing Elizabeth's offer to pull
her nanites back out. {I'd rather we kept in contact... and we'll
need every advantage to survive...} He hadn't tried to hide that
he'd have preferred to know he was free of the critters.. but then he'd
far rather Elizabeth was free too. Life wasn't being kind this
week.
"We'll be at a planet in two hours."
{Well.. Maybe not kind.. But not without hope either, John.}
AN: ..exile, for no other motive than ease - that would be to
give up all
hope of honour. The last defeat, with no seed of future victory in it.-
Lois McMasters Bujold, Shards of honour
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