Atlantis Fic: The Remnant
Title: The Remnant
Author: Isabelle
Spoilers: season one through "The Siege, part 2"; also, anything up through "Moebius" in SG-1 is fair game
Pairings: Sheppard/Weir, Zelenka/Heightmeyer (trust me on this one?), implied Teyla/Ford
Warnings: angst, character deaths, dark apocalyptic doom
Rating: what's the equivalent of PG-13 these days?
Summary: The Atlantis mission has failed, and the remnant stumbles home.
Author's Notes: This story takes place approximately two years from the end of season one. It was inspired, in tone and subject matter, by cofax's SG-1 post-invasion series, This is Not Wartime, which I read with much enthusiasm as I was writing this. Also, while I really wouldn't call this a crossover fic, it does take place in the Stargate universe, and SG-1 characters appear. Many, many thanks to dm_lunsford for the beta!
***
Radek still dreams about Prague. They're rarely fond, nostalgic dreams anymore, though. Now he dreams of Wraith streaming across the Charles Bridge; and the Prague Castle, just before its self-destruct blows, invariably assumes the tall, spindly appearance of Atlantian towers. When the Wraith begin to feed on his family, Radek wakes up, sitting up and breathing heavily.
The fire has gone down considerably, but by its dim light he can see everyone sleeping-or pretending to-around him. Captain Jackson and Myan are near the cave's entrance, keeping watch. He can't distinguish the figures on the far side of the fire, but knows it must be Giles, Chi-Ming, Duncan, Bates, Ruiz and Lucas. Elizabeth coughs. Even in her sleep, Kate must have heard it because she rolls over, murmurs and reaches out to clutch at the jacket Radek has draped over his legs.
Elizabeth coughs again, and Radek hears Sheppard move her to what may be a more comfortable position.
"Drink a little water, Lizabeth," Sheppard whispers. They are cloaked in the shadows, but Radek can picture them, her head in his lap, his expression determined. On some level, Sheppard really must believe that if she "keeps enough fluids in her," she will miraculously get better.
Elizabeth Weir is still the strongest person Radek has ever known, but this last move may have weakened her irreparably. The last planet's resources weren't overly plentiful, but it was fairly warm and dry. But the Wraith bore down on them in the middle of last night with little warning, and they had to flee to this cold, damp place. Last night was too close-even Teyla didn't sense them as early as usual. The baby must have inherited the Wraith-sensing gene, though, because he wailed for a solid half hour before Teyla felt them. Ever since, they've all been on edge every time the poor kid makes a peep.
The new place has no man-made buildings, but they did find this cave near enough to the 'gate. And Sheppard and Myan said they saw some birds and small animals, so as soon as Myan can rig up some traps and make some bows and arrows, they might even be able to eat halfway decently. But it is wet and cold, and Elizabeth hasn't stopped coughing.
At least they didn't lose anyone this time. Fourteen people left, one of whom is only five months old; they could scarcely afford any more casualties. Many had died in the last stand defending Atlantis (again), before the evacuation and self-destruct. Then scores had been killed on the Daedalus when it was hit. In the long, nomadic months that followed, Wraith, illness, and injury picked off the survivors one by one.
A particularly violent coughing fit seizes Elizabeth, and the baby wakes with a weak cry. Kate had slept through the coughing, but she jerks awake at the baby's cry.
"Shh, it's okay," Radek whispers to her as he watches Teyla-resting on the other side of Sheppard and Weir-calm the child and begin to nurse him. The baby settles down immediately; no Wraith tonight.
Kate is officially awake now, though, and she is listening to Elizabeth cough. She sits up and leans in toward Radek. "The cough is much worse. Has she been doing that all night?"
"Pretty much," he admits, though he knows it will make her worry. Kate has felt the burden of being the only surviving medical doctor acutely. It has been too many years since her general rotations in med school, and even if she could better remember how to set a broken bone, deliver a baby, or treat pneumonia, she has no supplies left after all the planet-hopping. And even though she needs no supplies for her work as a psychiatrist, they are all so battered and scarred that she is scarcely stronger, mentally or physically, than any of the rest of them.
Elizabeth coughs again, Kate winces, and Radek wishes Carson were still here. Logically, he knows that Carson would be nearly as powerless as Kate, but under the circumstances, it's easy to fantasize about the Scottish doctor's miraculous healing powers. But Carson died in their last puddle jumper, along with Aiden Ford, who missed his son's birth by less than a month.
After a few minutes of restlessness, Kate gets up to check on Elizabeth. Radek can hear her voice and Sheppard's in muffled conversation; only Elizabeth's weak "I'm fine" is discernable.
"Her fever's up," Kate whispers as she returns. "There's nothing I can do." The firelight highlights the lines of worry on her face, lines that are always there these days.
"You're doing your best," Radek assures her. "Lie down. Go to sleep again."
He lies down as well and wraps an arm around her as she huddles close to him. This-relationship-with Kate Heightmeyer is in some ways the strangest outcome of the past few months. They had both been in love with Rodney, of course. Both had been in radically co-dependent relationships with him, and when he died, it somehow seemed natural that they would fill the void with each other.
That Rodney died for Elizabeth, and died professing his love for her, is something that Radek and Kate never talk about. To a certain extent, they are all in love with Elizabeth, the beautiful leader who has never wavered in the face of gravest trauma. They all hold their breath every time she coughs, and they would all die for her. But Rodney jumped in front of a Wraith that was closing in on her. Sheppard managed to kill the Wraith, but it was too late for Rodney, who died with an injunction that Sheppard scarcely needed: to take care of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth coughs again, and Radek prays to a God he doesn't believe in that somehow she would stop. She continues to cough, and he tries to shut out the sound, working equations in his head. As he grows more tired, he tries to match his breathing to Kate's. But in his last moment of consciousness, he still hears the coughing.
***
They have been on the planet for two days when they find it. Myan and Sergeant Lucas were hunting something that looked a little like a cross between a pig and a possum and chased it into one of the caves about half a mile from the one they had adopted as their home. The animal got away, but even as hungry as they are, no one really cares.
John is about to head out on some recon with Bates and Duncan when Myan dashes back into camp.
"Major Sheppard, Major Sheppard, come quickly!" cries the young Athosian. "We found one, we found one!"
"Found what?" John asks with some suspicion. Myan's expression, though, is clearly excited rather than afraid; John hopes this is a good sign.
"A ZPM."
He can't stop his jaw from dropping. A gasp behind him draws his attention toward the mouth of their cave. Elizabeth has come out to see them off and is leaning heavily on Kate Heightmeyer. He raises an eyebrow in question, and she rewards him with what, these days, is a rare smile.
"Okay, Lieutenant, Sergeant, change of plans. Let's check this out."
They jog briskly and within a couple of minutes reach the cave where Henry Lucas stands guard. It is an ordinary cave, but toward the back is a large chest that is clearly of Ancient manufacture; the lid appears to have been broken long ago, and a warm glow emanates from inside. John pulls away part of the lid, exposing the ZPM inside.
"Jesus," breathes Duncan from somewhere just behind him.
The chest is heavy, but between the five of them, even as weakened as they are, they get it back to camp without much trouble. All fourteen of them stand around it, staring with awe. Even Teyla and Ford's kid is captivated.
"So," Lt. Duncan says hesitantly, the first to interrupt the reverent silence, "does this mean we can go home?" Even the past year has not managed to break the energetic young officer entirely, and she is practically bouncing.
John feels Elizabeth's arm tighten around him, and her fingers clutch at the loose fabric of his jacket. She coughs once-it's usually a little better in the morning-and looks at Zelenka.
"Radek?"
The Czech runs a hand through his impossibly wild hair. "Assuming we can connect it to the DHD, I don't see why not. It may take a little while." He glances at Dr. Hwang for confirmation, and she nods her head.
"See what you can do," Elizabeth declares authoritatively, and when he looks at her, he gets his second smile of the morning before the coughing takes over again.
The physicists take the ZPM to the 'gate, and most everyone else hovers at a safe distance, watching. John takes Elizabeth back inside to rest near the fire. That small amount of effort-walking outside for a few minutes-has completely exhausted her, and he only manages to get a few sips of water in her before she falls asleep leaning against him.
They don't really talk anymore-talking has become so draining for Elizabeth in the past few weeks-but really, there isn't much of a need. They haven't even had sex for more than a month. But they're past talking and even-though John would never have thought this possible-past sex. They're just together, connected, a united front. They don't even have the leadership squabbles they used to be so notorious for. John knows that some of the more sentimental members of the team-April Duncan, Giles Dupuis, and Henry Lucas, especially-like to imagine Elizabeth and himself as the protagonists in a great love story. Yes, they love one another, but John is pretty sure it isn't love that binds them together. It's guilt. Together, John and Elizabeth can manage, barely, not to be entirely crushed by the burden of the thousands of people who are dead because of the decisions they've made.
Elizabeth coughs and shivers but doesn't wake. John wets an old, dirty cloth with some of the water and gently bathes her fevered face and neck. They are all dreadfully malnourished, and Elizabeth didn't have much extra body fat to begin with, but she has become alarmingly thin in the past few months. When John helps her bathe, he tries not to think about how much she reminds him of those pictures of starving people in Africa. Kate hasn't had the heart to tell them, but John knows that without help, Elizabeth will die soon. Maybe another week; maybe less. He tries not to think about what his life would consist of without her.
The majority of the crowd comes inside the cave when it starts to rain. Zelenka and Hwang stay with the DHD, and Duncan and Lucas volunteer to help them keep the equipment dry while they work. In all the frantic running, they have managed to salvage one laptop, which Zelenka can run off the power from the DHD. Sometimes John finds it ironic that they live like animals, scrounging for food, but carry around this computer and all its accoutrements. As time passes and the rain continues to fall, he tries not to doubt Zelenka and Hwang. He tries not to wish McKay were here.
Elizabeth is awake again when Zelenka comes in, sopping wet, about four hours later.
"Well, Radek?"
"I think it will work." Collectively, they release the breath they have been holding. "But there is one concern. If we leave a charged ZPM connected to the DHD and the Wraith come here, they surely will discover what it is used for."
John looks at Elizabeth and sees his own conflicting thoughts mirrored in her eyes. God, he wants to get out of here. He wants to get Elizabeth out of here and into a warm bed in the SGC infirmary. But images of the Wraith on Earth have been haunting his nightmares for too long to take this lightly.
"Chi-Ming thinks there might be another option," Zelenka continues. "She thinks we can deplete the ZPM until it only holds enough charge to dial home once. It's risky, but maybe it's better than the alternative."
Deplete the ZPM. It goes against every ounce of logic that they have all lived by for the past three years. Yet they've single-handedly destroyed Atlantis, deleted the Ancient database, and decimated the human population of the Pegasus galaxy by awakening the Wraith too early. What's one depleted ZPM in the grand scheme of things? Elizabeth looks at him, and he nods in agreement.
"Do it," she says. "But make sure you leave us enough to get home."
The depletion is finished at around the time the rain stops, early in the evening. They assemble around the Stargate as the sun sets. Zelenka uses the DHD to charge the battery on the GDO that Sheppard has hung onto all this time. They have no radio, so they have to trust that the SGC will still recognize his IDC. Zelenka dials Earth-the glyphs familiar, even though they've dialed them so seldom-and they hold their breath as the wormhole connects. Elizabeth clutches John's arm as he sends through his code. They wait. Zelenka checks his watch, estimating how long the power will allow them to maintain the wormhole. They wait almost a minute, and then the OK comes on the GDO.
"Okay, folks," he says. "Bates, help Elizabeth through first. Everyone else behind. I'll bring up the rear. Let's go home."
***
Sam is running some standard tests on the dialing program when the unauthorized gate activation happens. A moment later, an IDC she never expected to see again comes through. It has been almost a year since the Daedelus missed its scheduled return. When they found another ZPM, they tried dialing Atlantis, but the MALP they sent through plunged into the bottom of the ocean.
The General is behind her now. "Who is it, Carter?"
"It's…it's Atlantis. It's Major Sheppard's code."
He reaches for the radio. "Major Sheppard, this is General O'Neill. Do you read me?"
There is no reply.
"Major Sheppard?" he tries again.
"Sir?" Sam asks. It's been more than thirty seconds. "What do you want to do?"
"Open it," he says. She raises an eyebrow, and he just shrugs.
As the figures begin to stagger through, Sam follows O'Neill down into the Gate Room. In the past ten years with the Stargate program, she has seen people broken and abused. She has never seen anything quite like this. She scans the faces for people she recognizes, but even the faces she knows are unfamiliar.
Elizabeth Weir, terribly ill and frail, walks through first, mostly supported by a gaunt, angry-looking man that Sam thinks was a Marine here once. A fit of coughing attacks Dr. Weir on the ramp and doubles her over. Sam recognizes the Czech physicist but can't recall his name; he is pale, and his eyes are hollow behind his broken glasses. She doesn't know the blonde woman who clings to his hand. A lovely but sad young woman holds a crying baby. She scans the group for Rodney McKay and feels an unexpected knot in her stomach when she doesn't see him. All of them wear filthy, bedraggled clothes that barely hang on their emaciated frames. Several of them are soaking wet. They look stunned as they take in their surroundings; no one smiles.
Major Sheppard emerges and moves immediately through the small crowd to Dr. Weir's side. "That's everyone," he calls up to the control room. "Shut it down."
Sam counts quickly. Thirteen plus the baby. She starts to wonder how this can be all that remains of the Atlantis expedition and the Daedalus crew, but as she takes in their condition, she stops wondering. The surprising part seems to be that they have survived at all.
They knew this was possible, of course. Before the expedition left three years ago, most thought it would be a one-way trip. And then when the Daedelus didn't return, and the Atlantis 'gate was sunk, they assumed the worst. Yet Sam's curiosity always got the better of her when it came to Atlantis. She had begged to go, on the original expedition, on the Daedalus, even on the Prometheus's rescue/recon mission that got scratched when the Pentagon decided there was insufficient possibility of success. As Sam watches these people stumble down the ramp, she imagines herself in their shoes. And she wonders if any amount of knowledge is worth this.
Major Sheppard helps Dr. Weir to stand, and they exchange a look that seems to communicate an entire conversation before turning to face the General.
"General O'Neill. Thank you for letting us through. I wish we had better news to report from the Pegasus galaxy." Her voice is weak and ragged, but it still contains the quality of dignity that Sam remembers from this woman who led the SGC through one of its hardest hours.
"Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard." The General reaches out to shake their hands. "Welcome home."
Weir begins to cough again, and Sheppard is barely keeping her upright; O'Neill looks over his shoulder for the medical team he called. The baby is still crying, and Sam notices that a couple of the others-the blonde woman she doesn't know, and a man she thinks she remembers as a French linguist who once worked for Daniel-have begun to cry as well.
"Okay, let's get everyone to the infirmary, shall we? And Major, may I have a brief word?" To anyone else, perhaps, O'Neill might seem nonplussed, taking the latest unusual happening at the SGC in stride. Sam can tell, however, that he is shaken. She is too, and not merely by the trauma that these people have endured. Their despair is palpable.
Dr. Weir can barely speak for coughing, but she protests the gurney as Sheppard lifts her onto it, and she protests even more loudly being left out of any briefings.
"Hey," Sheppard says softly as he leans over her, warding off a doctor with a raised index finger. "I promise there will be no full briefing without you. I'll be up to the infirmary in a minute." She nods in resignation as he kisses her forehead gently. Sam and the General glance at each other, eyebrows raised, before looking uncomfortably down at their shoes; they have just eavesdropped on a very private moment. The Major watches as they wheel the gurney out after the rest of the refugees before turning back to face them.
"Sir. Ma'am." He actually salutes, and Sam recognizes the tactic of falling back onto the comfortable formality of Air Force hierarchy.
"Report, Major." Silently, Sam thanks O'Neill for Sheppard's sake. Sometimes it's just a lot easier when he acts like the General.
"The Atlantis expedition has failed, sir. About a year ago we were no longer able to withstand the Wraith. We evacuated Atlantis and activated the city's self-destruct and the virus to delete the Ancient database. Not long afterwards, the Daedalus was destroyed by a Wraith hive ship." He pauses and swallows before continuing. "Sir, they're everywhere-probably millions of them, all over the galaxy. We've been planet-hopping, trying to stay ahead of them and out of the way of whatever inhabitants are left in Pegasus. The Wraith have awakened too soon; the population isn't sufficient to sustain them. All the worlds are being decimated, and the people who are left don't like us much." He sighs and looks them in the eye. "I don't really blame them."
"Okay, Major. Report to the infirmary. We'll do a full debriefing when Dr. Weir and the rest of your people are feeling up to it." The younger man nods before turning and leaving the room.
Beside her, O'Neill exhales evenly and runs a hand through his hair. "Shit, Carter."
"At least they're still alive, sir."
"Right. I've gotta go call the President. Go get the word from Carmichael on how they're doing."
Sam first stops in her lab to look up their names. When she arrives in the infirmary, it is a hive of activity. The woman with the baby sits on the bed nearest the door, alongside a man and woman who, by the way they jump to attention as Sam walks by, must be military. The linguist, Giles Dupuis, is curled up on the next bed, crying softly, whether from relief, or exhaustion, or pain, Sam can't tell. The Chinese-American physicist Sam remembers as Chi-Ming Hwang sits with him, stroking his hair as she stares blankly ahead of her. Dr. Carmichael is in conversation with the blonde woman, who, though she doesn't look much like her photo in the database anymore, Sam thinks must be Katharine Heightmeyer, a psychiatrist. Radek Zelenka, whose name she ought to have remembered, stands close, one hand on the small of Heightmeyer's back. Down at the far end, Major Sheppard is arguing with Dr. Brightman, who wants to examine him instead of allow him to hover by Dr. Weir's bedside. Weir is asleep and, mercifully, is coughing less than she was in the Gate Room.
Carmichael sees her, excuses himself, and comes over. "How are they, Doctor?" she asks.
"Dr. Weir is the worst. She has pneumonia that apparently set in almost a month ago. Frankly, it's a miracle she's still alive, with no medicine and the state her body's in. The next 48 hours are going to be critical, but I think she will pull through. Sergeant Ruiz is also fighting some kind of congestion, but it's nothing I'm too worried about. And the young Athosian man has a pretty nasty infection on one hand. Overall, they're exhausted and malnourished, but they'll make it. Physically, at least. I want to get some psychiatrists in here soon, though, partly on Dr. Heightmeyer's advice and partly because she herself seems to be just as much in need of one as all the others." He pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then looks at her. "I'm used to trauma, Colonel, but I can't imagine what these people have been through."
***
Teyla glances at her map and maneuvers the car through the small town streets. She has been on Earth for six months now, and every once in a while, she almost feels like she might get used to it. The first few weeks were spent at the mountain while people worked to get her "identity" straightened out. She is supposed to be from a small village outside Kabul, where Aiden Ford met and married her before he was killed while on duty in Afghanistan. Part of her is curious to visit this Afghanistan; another part of her is afraid of being exposed as a fraud.
Myan, the only other surviving Athosian, decided that he could not live on Earth, with its crowds and machines; he was relocated off-world, and Teyla feels his loss acutely. She is staying, partly because her former teammates are her family now, and partly because she wants her son to grow up in the home world of at least one of his parents.
Teyla and her son have settled in Colorado Springs, along with the rest of the Atlantis remnant; none of them wants to stray too far from each other or from the Stargate. Those of them who can work at Stargate Command or its environs. Drs. Zelenka and Hwang consult for the SGC, together making up a full-time physicist. Although Dr. Dupuis is the world's expert on the Ancient language, he still suffers from anxiety attacks and flashbacks whenever he tries to translate anything. Lieutenant Duncan and Sergeants Bates and Lucas have non-combat positions in the SGC or the Air Force Academy, but Captain Jackson and Sergeant Ruiz have quit the Marines; they won't go near a gun anymore. Just recently, Kate Heightmeyer has begun to work a couple days a week at the Academy Hospital. Teyla has talked with General O'Neill about joining an SG team at some point, but for the time being she wants to be with her son.
Major Sheppard's first act as Lt. Col. Sheppard was to resign from the Air Force. He and Dr. Weir haunt the corridors of Cheyenne Mountain occasionally-she holds some nominal title. They receive Teyla and baby Aiden graciously when they visit, but they've only come to one of Kate and Radek's cookouts. They are shells of the people she remembers from that first golden year in Atlantis, and it has been a long time since Teyla has seen either of them smile. She knows they blame themselves for everything that happened, and she imagines that they wake each other nightly from the dreamed terrors of the Wraith coming to this world.
Little Aiden babbles in his car seat behind her, and she knows he is getting restless. It has been a long journey, in an airplane and then across two hours of flat highway in a vehicle she has only recently learned to drive. Henry Lucas offered to come with them, but Teyla needs to do this alone. She has faced greater fears before.
She doesn't need to check the map again when she pulls up in front of the house; it is exactly as Aiden described it to her. Even though at the time she didn't know what he meant by "picket fence" or "front porch" or "rocking chair," somehow the house matches her mental picture. She parks the car and steps out into the hot, humid Georgia afternoon. It takes her a few minutes to make her son presentable after he has gotten crushed Cheerios in every sweaty crevice, and when she picks him up and turns around, the man and woman are standing on the porch. They, too, are exactly right-warm, kind, home.
"Oh, child, come in here out of that heat!" calls the woman.
Teyla walks toward the house, taking a deep breath and smiling. "Mr. and Mrs. Ford. I am Teyla, and this is Aiden." Suddenly she is enveloped in a soft, firm hug that smells like sunshine and lemon and somehow, a little like Aiden did on Atlantis, when he talked about home.
"Grandma and Grandpa. You call us Grandma and Grandpa, you hear?"
Grandpa takes the baby and Grandma leads her inside where it is cool from the air conditioning and warm from something cooking in the kitchen. Teyla smiles again, this time not out of strong will and determination, but out of genuine happiness. It feels unfamiliar after so long, but good. Mercifully, they don't ask about how she finds the United States or even how she met Aiden. Grandpa introduces the baby to the dog, and little Aiden finds her immensely captivating.
Grandma guides her into the kitchen and seats her at the table before stirring something on the stove. "Let me get you something to eat. You've had such a long trip, sugar. You must be exhausted."
"Yes, I am a little," Teyla finds herself confessing. Such a long journey to arrive at this place.
***
The End
Author: Isabelle
Spoilers: season one through "The Siege, part 2"; also, anything up through "Moebius" in SG-1 is fair game
Pairings: Sheppard/Weir, Zelenka/Heightmeyer (trust me on this one?), implied Teyla/Ford
Warnings: angst, character deaths, dark apocalyptic doom
Rating: what's the equivalent of PG-13 these days?
Summary: The Atlantis mission has failed, and the remnant stumbles home.
Author's Notes: This story takes place approximately two years from the end of season one. It was inspired, in tone and subject matter, by cofax's SG-1 post-invasion series, This is Not Wartime, which I read with much enthusiasm as I was writing this. Also, while I really wouldn't call this a crossover fic, it does take place in the Stargate universe, and SG-1 characters appear. Many, many thanks to dm_lunsford for the beta!
***
Radek still dreams about Prague. They're rarely fond, nostalgic dreams anymore, though. Now he dreams of Wraith streaming across the Charles Bridge; and the Prague Castle, just before its self-destruct blows, invariably assumes the tall, spindly appearance of Atlantian towers. When the Wraith begin to feed on his family, Radek wakes up, sitting up and breathing heavily.
The fire has gone down considerably, but by its dim light he can see everyone sleeping-or pretending to-around him. Captain Jackson and Myan are near the cave's entrance, keeping watch. He can't distinguish the figures on the far side of the fire, but knows it must be Giles, Chi-Ming, Duncan, Bates, Ruiz and Lucas. Elizabeth coughs. Even in her sleep, Kate must have heard it because she rolls over, murmurs and reaches out to clutch at the jacket Radek has draped over his legs.
Elizabeth coughs again, and Radek hears Sheppard move her to what may be a more comfortable position.
"Drink a little water, Lizabeth," Sheppard whispers. They are cloaked in the shadows, but Radek can picture them, her head in his lap, his expression determined. On some level, Sheppard really must believe that if she "keeps enough fluids in her," she will miraculously get better.
Elizabeth Weir is still the strongest person Radek has ever known, but this last move may have weakened her irreparably. The last planet's resources weren't overly plentiful, but it was fairly warm and dry. But the Wraith bore down on them in the middle of last night with little warning, and they had to flee to this cold, damp place. Last night was too close-even Teyla didn't sense them as early as usual. The baby must have inherited the Wraith-sensing gene, though, because he wailed for a solid half hour before Teyla felt them. Ever since, they've all been on edge every time the poor kid makes a peep.
The new place has no man-made buildings, but they did find this cave near enough to the 'gate. And Sheppard and Myan said they saw some birds and small animals, so as soon as Myan can rig up some traps and make some bows and arrows, they might even be able to eat halfway decently. But it is wet and cold, and Elizabeth hasn't stopped coughing.
At least they didn't lose anyone this time. Fourteen people left, one of whom is only five months old; they could scarcely afford any more casualties. Many had died in the last stand defending Atlantis (again), before the evacuation and self-destruct. Then scores had been killed on the Daedalus when it was hit. In the long, nomadic months that followed, Wraith, illness, and injury picked off the survivors one by one.
A particularly violent coughing fit seizes Elizabeth, and the baby wakes with a weak cry. Kate had slept through the coughing, but she jerks awake at the baby's cry.
"Shh, it's okay," Radek whispers to her as he watches Teyla-resting on the other side of Sheppard and Weir-calm the child and begin to nurse him. The baby settles down immediately; no Wraith tonight.
Kate is officially awake now, though, and she is listening to Elizabeth cough. She sits up and leans in toward Radek. "The cough is much worse. Has she been doing that all night?"
"Pretty much," he admits, though he knows it will make her worry. Kate has felt the burden of being the only surviving medical doctor acutely. It has been too many years since her general rotations in med school, and even if she could better remember how to set a broken bone, deliver a baby, or treat pneumonia, she has no supplies left after all the planet-hopping. And even though she needs no supplies for her work as a psychiatrist, they are all so battered and scarred that she is scarcely stronger, mentally or physically, than any of the rest of them.
Elizabeth coughs again, Kate winces, and Radek wishes Carson were still here. Logically, he knows that Carson would be nearly as powerless as Kate, but under the circumstances, it's easy to fantasize about the Scottish doctor's miraculous healing powers. But Carson died in their last puddle jumper, along with Aiden Ford, who missed his son's birth by less than a month.
After a few minutes of restlessness, Kate gets up to check on Elizabeth. Radek can hear her voice and Sheppard's in muffled conversation; only Elizabeth's weak "I'm fine" is discernable.
"Her fever's up," Kate whispers as she returns. "There's nothing I can do." The firelight highlights the lines of worry on her face, lines that are always there these days.
"You're doing your best," Radek assures her. "Lie down. Go to sleep again."
He lies down as well and wraps an arm around her as she huddles close to him. This-relationship-with Kate Heightmeyer is in some ways the strangest outcome of the past few months. They had both been in love with Rodney, of course. Both had been in radically co-dependent relationships with him, and when he died, it somehow seemed natural that they would fill the void with each other.
That Rodney died for Elizabeth, and died professing his love for her, is something that Radek and Kate never talk about. To a certain extent, they are all in love with Elizabeth, the beautiful leader who has never wavered in the face of gravest trauma. They all hold their breath every time she coughs, and they would all die for her. But Rodney jumped in front of a Wraith that was closing in on her. Sheppard managed to kill the Wraith, but it was too late for Rodney, who died with an injunction that Sheppard scarcely needed: to take care of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth coughs again, and Radek prays to a God he doesn't believe in that somehow she would stop. She continues to cough, and he tries to shut out the sound, working equations in his head. As he grows more tired, he tries to match his breathing to Kate's. But in his last moment of consciousness, he still hears the coughing.
***
They have been on the planet for two days when they find it. Myan and Sergeant Lucas were hunting something that looked a little like a cross between a pig and a possum and chased it into one of the caves about half a mile from the one they had adopted as their home. The animal got away, but even as hungry as they are, no one really cares.
John is about to head out on some recon with Bates and Duncan when Myan dashes back into camp.
"Major Sheppard, Major Sheppard, come quickly!" cries the young Athosian. "We found one, we found one!"
"Found what?" John asks with some suspicion. Myan's expression, though, is clearly excited rather than afraid; John hopes this is a good sign.
"A ZPM."
He can't stop his jaw from dropping. A gasp behind him draws his attention toward the mouth of their cave. Elizabeth has come out to see them off and is leaning heavily on Kate Heightmeyer. He raises an eyebrow in question, and she rewards him with what, these days, is a rare smile.
"Okay, Lieutenant, Sergeant, change of plans. Let's check this out."
They jog briskly and within a couple of minutes reach the cave where Henry Lucas stands guard. It is an ordinary cave, but toward the back is a large chest that is clearly of Ancient manufacture; the lid appears to have been broken long ago, and a warm glow emanates from inside. John pulls away part of the lid, exposing the ZPM inside.
"Jesus," breathes Duncan from somewhere just behind him.
The chest is heavy, but between the five of them, even as weakened as they are, they get it back to camp without much trouble. All fourteen of them stand around it, staring with awe. Even Teyla and Ford's kid is captivated.
"So," Lt. Duncan says hesitantly, the first to interrupt the reverent silence, "does this mean we can go home?" Even the past year has not managed to break the energetic young officer entirely, and she is practically bouncing.
John feels Elizabeth's arm tighten around him, and her fingers clutch at the loose fabric of his jacket. She coughs once-it's usually a little better in the morning-and looks at Zelenka.
"Radek?"
The Czech runs a hand through his impossibly wild hair. "Assuming we can connect it to the DHD, I don't see why not. It may take a little while." He glances at Dr. Hwang for confirmation, and she nods her head.
"See what you can do," Elizabeth declares authoritatively, and when he looks at her, he gets his second smile of the morning before the coughing takes over again.
The physicists take the ZPM to the 'gate, and most everyone else hovers at a safe distance, watching. John takes Elizabeth back inside to rest near the fire. That small amount of effort-walking outside for a few minutes-has completely exhausted her, and he only manages to get a few sips of water in her before she falls asleep leaning against him.
They don't really talk anymore-talking has become so draining for Elizabeth in the past few weeks-but really, there isn't much of a need. They haven't even had sex for more than a month. But they're past talking and even-though John would never have thought this possible-past sex. They're just together, connected, a united front. They don't even have the leadership squabbles they used to be so notorious for. John knows that some of the more sentimental members of the team-April Duncan, Giles Dupuis, and Henry Lucas, especially-like to imagine Elizabeth and himself as the protagonists in a great love story. Yes, they love one another, but John is pretty sure it isn't love that binds them together. It's guilt. Together, John and Elizabeth can manage, barely, not to be entirely crushed by the burden of the thousands of people who are dead because of the decisions they've made.
Elizabeth coughs and shivers but doesn't wake. John wets an old, dirty cloth with some of the water and gently bathes her fevered face and neck. They are all dreadfully malnourished, and Elizabeth didn't have much extra body fat to begin with, but she has become alarmingly thin in the past few months. When John helps her bathe, he tries not to think about how much she reminds him of those pictures of starving people in Africa. Kate hasn't had the heart to tell them, but John knows that without help, Elizabeth will die soon. Maybe another week; maybe less. He tries not to think about what his life would consist of without her.
The majority of the crowd comes inside the cave when it starts to rain. Zelenka and Hwang stay with the DHD, and Duncan and Lucas volunteer to help them keep the equipment dry while they work. In all the frantic running, they have managed to salvage one laptop, which Zelenka can run off the power from the DHD. Sometimes John finds it ironic that they live like animals, scrounging for food, but carry around this computer and all its accoutrements. As time passes and the rain continues to fall, he tries not to doubt Zelenka and Hwang. He tries not to wish McKay were here.
Elizabeth is awake again when Zelenka comes in, sopping wet, about four hours later.
"Well, Radek?"
"I think it will work." Collectively, they release the breath they have been holding. "But there is one concern. If we leave a charged ZPM connected to the DHD and the Wraith come here, they surely will discover what it is used for."
John looks at Elizabeth and sees his own conflicting thoughts mirrored in her eyes. God, he wants to get out of here. He wants to get Elizabeth out of here and into a warm bed in the SGC infirmary. But images of the Wraith on Earth have been haunting his nightmares for too long to take this lightly.
"Chi-Ming thinks there might be another option," Zelenka continues. "She thinks we can deplete the ZPM until it only holds enough charge to dial home once. It's risky, but maybe it's better than the alternative."
Deplete the ZPM. It goes against every ounce of logic that they have all lived by for the past three years. Yet they've single-handedly destroyed Atlantis, deleted the Ancient database, and decimated the human population of the Pegasus galaxy by awakening the Wraith too early. What's one depleted ZPM in the grand scheme of things? Elizabeth looks at him, and he nods in agreement.
"Do it," she says. "But make sure you leave us enough to get home."
The depletion is finished at around the time the rain stops, early in the evening. They assemble around the Stargate as the sun sets. Zelenka uses the DHD to charge the battery on the GDO that Sheppard has hung onto all this time. They have no radio, so they have to trust that the SGC will still recognize his IDC. Zelenka dials Earth-the glyphs familiar, even though they've dialed them so seldom-and they hold their breath as the wormhole connects. Elizabeth clutches John's arm as he sends through his code. They wait. Zelenka checks his watch, estimating how long the power will allow them to maintain the wormhole. They wait almost a minute, and then the OK comes on the GDO.
"Okay, folks," he says. "Bates, help Elizabeth through first. Everyone else behind. I'll bring up the rear. Let's go home."
***
Sam is running some standard tests on the dialing program when the unauthorized gate activation happens. A moment later, an IDC she never expected to see again comes through. It has been almost a year since the Daedelus missed its scheduled return. When they found another ZPM, they tried dialing Atlantis, but the MALP they sent through plunged into the bottom of the ocean.
The General is behind her now. "Who is it, Carter?"
"It's…it's Atlantis. It's Major Sheppard's code."
He reaches for the radio. "Major Sheppard, this is General O'Neill. Do you read me?"
There is no reply.
"Major Sheppard?" he tries again.
"Sir?" Sam asks. It's been more than thirty seconds. "What do you want to do?"
"Open it," he says. She raises an eyebrow, and he just shrugs.
As the figures begin to stagger through, Sam follows O'Neill down into the Gate Room. In the past ten years with the Stargate program, she has seen people broken and abused. She has never seen anything quite like this. She scans the faces for people she recognizes, but even the faces she knows are unfamiliar.
Elizabeth Weir, terribly ill and frail, walks through first, mostly supported by a gaunt, angry-looking man that Sam thinks was a Marine here once. A fit of coughing attacks Dr. Weir on the ramp and doubles her over. Sam recognizes the Czech physicist but can't recall his name; he is pale, and his eyes are hollow behind his broken glasses. She doesn't know the blonde woman who clings to his hand. A lovely but sad young woman holds a crying baby. She scans the group for Rodney McKay and feels an unexpected knot in her stomach when she doesn't see him. All of them wear filthy, bedraggled clothes that barely hang on their emaciated frames. Several of them are soaking wet. They look stunned as they take in their surroundings; no one smiles.
Major Sheppard emerges and moves immediately through the small crowd to Dr. Weir's side. "That's everyone," he calls up to the control room. "Shut it down."
Sam counts quickly. Thirteen plus the baby. She starts to wonder how this can be all that remains of the Atlantis expedition and the Daedalus crew, but as she takes in their condition, she stops wondering. The surprising part seems to be that they have survived at all.
They knew this was possible, of course. Before the expedition left three years ago, most thought it would be a one-way trip. And then when the Daedelus didn't return, and the Atlantis 'gate was sunk, they assumed the worst. Yet Sam's curiosity always got the better of her when it came to Atlantis. She had begged to go, on the original expedition, on the Daedalus, even on the Prometheus's rescue/recon mission that got scratched when the Pentagon decided there was insufficient possibility of success. As Sam watches these people stumble down the ramp, she imagines herself in their shoes. And she wonders if any amount of knowledge is worth this.
Major Sheppard helps Dr. Weir to stand, and they exchange a look that seems to communicate an entire conversation before turning to face the General.
"General O'Neill. Thank you for letting us through. I wish we had better news to report from the Pegasus galaxy." Her voice is weak and ragged, but it still contains the quality of dignity that Sam remembers from this woman who led the SGC through one of its hardest hours.
"Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard." The General reaches out to shake their hands. "Welcome home."
Weir begins to cough again, and Sheppard is barely keeping her upright; O'Neill looks over his shoulder for the medical team he called. The baby is still crying, and Sam notices that a couple of the others-the blonde woman she doesn't know, and a man she thinks she remembers as a French linguist who once worked for Daniel-have begun to cry as well.
"Okay, let's get everyone to the infirmary, shall we? And Major, may I have a brief word?" To anyone else, perhaps, O'Neill might seem nonplussed, taking the latest unusual happening at the SGC in stride. Sam can tell, however, that he is shaken. She is too, and not merely by the trauma that these people have endured. Their despair is palpable.
Dr. Weir can barely speak for coughing, but she protests the gurney as Sheppard lifts her onto it, and she protests even more loudly being left out of any briefings.
"Hey," Sheppard says softly as he leans over her, warding off a doctor with a raised index finger. "I promise there will be no full briefing without you. I'll be up to the infirmary in a minute." She nods in resignation as he kisses her forehead gently. Sam and the General glance at each other, eyebrows raised, before looking uncomfortably down at their shoes; they have just eavesdropped on a very private moment. The Major watches as they wheel the gurney out after the rest of the refugees before turning back to face them.
"Sir. Ma'am." He actually salutes, and Sam recognizes the tactic of falling back onto the comfortable formality of Air Force hierarchy.
"Report, Major." Silently, Sam thanks O'Neill for Sheppard's sake. Sometimes it's just a lot easier when he acts like the General.
"The Atlantis expedition has failed, sir. About a year ago we were no longer able to withstand the Wraith. We evacuated Atlantis and activated the city's self-destruct and the virus to delete the Ancient database. Not long afterwards, the Daedalus was destroyed by a Wraith hive ship." He pauses and swallows before continuing. "Sir, they're everywhere-probably millions of them, all over the galaxy. We've been planet-hopping, trying to stay ahead of them and out of the way of whatever inhabitants are left in Pegasus. The Wraith have awakened too soon; the population isn't sufficient to sustain them. All the worlds are being decimated, and the people who are left don't like us much." He sighs and looks them in the eye. "I don't really blame them."
"Okay, Major. Report to the infirmary. We'll do a full debriefing when Dr. Weir and the rest of your people are feeling up to it." The younger man nods before turning and leaving the room.
Beside her, O'Neill exhales evenly and runs a hand through his hair. "Shit, Carter."
"At least they're still alive, sir."
"Right. I've gotta go call the President. Go get the word from Carmichael on how they're doing."
Sam first stops in her lab to look up their names. When she arrives in the infirmary, it is a hive of activity. The woman with the baby sits on the bed nearest the door, alongside a man and woman who, by the way they jump to attention as Sam walks by, must be military. The linguist, Giles Dupuis, is curled up on the next bed, crying softly, whether from relief, or exhaustion, or pain, Sam can't tell. The Chinese-American physicist Sam remembers as Chi-Ming Hwang sits with him, stroking his hair as she stares blankly ahead of her. Dr. Carmichael is in conversation with the blonde woman, who, though she doesn't look much like her photo in the database anymore, Sam thinks must be Katharine Heightmeyer, a psychiatrist. Radek Zelenka, whose name she ought to have remembered, stands close, one hand on the small of Heightmeyer's back. Down at the far end, Major Sheppard is arguing with Dr. Brightman, who wants to examine him instead of allow him to hover by Dr. Weir's bedside. Weir is asleep and, mercifully, is coughing less than she was in the Gate Room.
Carmichael sees her, excuses himself, and comes over. "How are they, Doctor?" she asks.
"Dr. Weir is the worst. She has pneumonia that apparently set in almost a month ago. Frankly, it's a miracle she's still alive, with no medicine and the state her body's in. The next 48 hours are going to be critical, but I think she will pull through. Sergeant Ruiz is also fighting some kind of congestion, but it's nothing I'm too worried about. And the young Athosian man has a pretty nasty infection on one hand. Overall, they're exhausted and malnourished, but they'll make it. Physically, at least. I want to get some psychiatrists in here soon, though, partly on Dr. Heightmeyer's advice and partly because she herself seems to be just as much in need of one as all the others." He pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then looks at her. "I'm used to trauma, Colonel, but I can't imagine what these people have been through."
***
Teyla glances at her map and maneuvers the car through the small town streets. She has been on Earth for six months now, and every once in a while, she almost feels like she might get used to it. The first few weeks were spent at the mountain while people worked to get her "identity" straightened out. She is supposed to be from a small village outside Kabul, where Aiden Ford met and married her before he was killed while on duty in Afghanistan. Part of her is curious to visit this Afghanistan; another part of her is afraid of being exposed as a fraud.
Myan, the only other surviving Athosian, decided that he could not live on Earth, with its crowds and machines; he was relocated off-world, and Teyla feels his loss acutely. She is staying, partly because her former teammates are her family now, and partly because she wants her son to grow up in the home world of at least one of his parents.
Teyla and her son have settled in Colorado Springs, along with the rest of the Atlantis remnant; none of them wants to stray too far from each other or from the Stargate. Those of them who can work at Stargate Command or its environs. Drs. Zelenka and Hwang consult for the SGC, together making up a full-time physicist. Although Dr. Dupuis is the world's expert on the Ancient language, he still suffers from anxiety attacks and flashbacks whenever he tries to translate anything. Lieutenant Duncan and Sergeants Bates and Lucas have non-combat positions in the SGC or the Air Force Academy, but Captain Jackson and Sergeant Ruiz have quit the Marines; they won't go near a gun anymore. Just recently, Kate Heightmeyer has begun to work a couple days a week at the Academy Hospital. Teyla has talked with General O'Neill about joining an SG team at some point, but for the time being she wants to be with her son.
Major Sheppard's first act as Lt. Col. Sheppard was to resign from the Air Force. He and Dr. Weir haunt the corridors of Cheyenne Mountain occasionally-she holds some nominal title. They receive Teyla and baby Aiden graciously when they visit, but they've only come to one of Kate and Radek's cookouts. They are shells of the people she remembers from that first golden year in Atlantis, and it has been a long time since Teyla has seen either of them smile. She knows they blame themselves for everything that happened, and she imagines that they wake each other nightly from the dreamed terrors of the Wraith coming to this world.
Little Aiden babbles in his car seat behind her, and she knows he is getting restless. It has been a long journey, in an airplane and then across two hours of flat highway in a vehicle she has only recently learned to drive. Henry Lucas offered to come with them, but Teyla needs to do this alone. She has faced greater fears before.
She doesn't need to check the map again when she pulls up in front of the house; it is exactly as Aiden described it to her. Even though at the time she didn't know what he meant by "picket fence" or "front porch" or "rocking chair," somehow the house matches her mental picture. She parks the car and steps out into the hot, humid Georgia afternoon. It takes her a few minutes to make her son presentable after he has gotten crushed Cheerios in every sweaty crevice, and when she picks him up and turns around, the man and woman are standing on the porch. They, too, are exactly right-warm, kind, home.
"Oh, child, come in here out of that heat!" calls the woman.
Teyla walks toward the house, taking a deep breath and smiling. "Mr. and Mrs. Ford. I am Teyla, and this is Aiden." Suddenly she is enveloped in a soft, firm hug that smells like sunshine and lemon and somehow, a little like Aiden did on Atlantis, when he talked about home.
"Grandma and Grandpa. You call us Grandma and Grandpa, you hear?"
Grandpa takes the baby and Grandma leads her inside where it is cool from the air conditioning and warm from something cooking in the kitchen. Teyla smiles again, this time not out of strong will and determination, but out of genuine happiness. It feels unfamiliar after so long, but good. Mercifully, they don't ask about how she finds the United States or even how she met Aiden. Grandpa introduces the baby to the dog, and little Aiden finds her immensely captivating.
Grandma guides her into the kitchen and seats her at the table before stirring something on the stove. "Let me get you something to eat. You've had such a long trip, sugar. You must be exhausted."
"Yes, I am a little," Teyla finds herself confessing. Such a long journey to arrive at this place.
***
The End