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Five Conversations that Elizabeth Weir Never Had

Summary:

Elizabeth Weir sacrificed herself to save the Atlantis mission. Now she's going to save a relationship that never stood a chance before she goes.

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Carson

"Carson?" Dr. Carson Beckett startled to hear his name on the lips of the
Ancient woman they had found in a stasis chamber deep within Atlantis. "I
wasn't dreaming, then, was I? It worked, you're really alive."

"I'm sorry," Carson stopped fussing with the monitors, "should I know you?"

A sad, wistful look crossed her face as her hand reached out to touch his
fingers gently. "No, I don't suppose you should. Humor an old woman and let me
look at you for a bit?"

Carson stood quietly as her cool fingers traced his eyes, nose and lips. When
her palm cupped his cheek, he unconsciously leaned into it for a moment and her
eyes closed on a flash of loss. Before Carson could process it, the moment had
passed and she was staring at him once again.

"So," she said as brusquely as a ten thousand year old woman could, "did
everyone make it? Are they all safe?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking of me." Carson reached out and
took her hand, part of him missing the brief connection she had forged.

"The expedition team, did they all make it safely through the Gate?" Ignoring
Carson's small gasp, she continued. "Peter, Radek, the rest of the scientists,
Colonel Sumner's marines, they're here, safe?"

"Aye, but how --?"

"And John and Rodney? That was them I saw earlier, wasn't it?" Carson could
only nod in response. "Good, good. Did we," she seemed to think better of what
she was about to say, looking away from Carson for the first time since she had
opened her eyes. "I hope someone is helping them stay under Sumner's radar.
I've never met a man with less flexibility in my life." The last was muttered
under her breath, but Carson heard it clearly.

"Under the radar? I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself, but, I'm sorry,
I truly don't understand." Carson found himself rubbing the papery skin beneath
his thumb as he spoke. The motion was soothing, but he wasn't sure if he
intended that effect for his patient, or for himself. "John and Rodney got here
safely, yes, but Colonel Sumner --"

"Ah, as long as he doesn't ask, they won't have to tell. I know I certainly
won't." There was no mistaking the twinkle in her eyes when she said that.
"Like I said, I hope someone is helping them this time, too. Now," she
gave his hand a brisk pat, "you should contact Dr. Weir. I don't think I'll
have the time to tell this story twice."

Carson stepped away from the bed, releasing her hand reluctantly, and turned his
radio on. "Doctor Weir."

"Yes?" he heard.

"You'd better come to the infirmary."

"Is our patient awake?" He could hear the excitement and curiosity in
Elizabeth's voice.

"Aye," Carson said, glancing over his shoulder at his patient, "and she's saying
the most peculiar things."

Rodney

Rodney sat beside the infirmary bed, gazing at Elizabeth Weir, one of an
infinite number of Elizabeth Weirs who could conceivably populate the
multiverse. He wasn't sure whether he should be excited or dismayed, but he was
thinking maybe excitement was going to edge dismay out at the finish line. She
had fallen asleep part way through the fascinating story of her arrival
in Atlantis, and Rodney had opted to stay when his Elizabeth left. While
the older Elizabeth slept, he tried to work out the physics that would allow for
her existence.

"You're thinking too hard." The whispery voice dragged Rodney out a
particularly intense calculation. "What are you trying to figure out this
time?"

"Well, I was attempting to use my vast and varied knowledge of quantum physics,
multiverse theory and Einstein's theory of relativity to account for your
presence here without having to resort to a Delorean and a flux capacitor." One
side of Rodney's mouth quirked at Elizabeth's tired chuckle. "I have to have
some standards."

"Oh, Rodney, I never questioned your standards." Elizabeth reached out a hand,
and Rodney took it automatically. "So, how is John?"

"Major Sheppard? I ... he's fine, I guess." Rodney's puzzled look deepened as
Elizabeth chuckled again. "Why, Rodney, that may be the first time I've heard
you admit to guessing." Elizabeth squeezed his hand and smiled.

The confident, self-absorbed mask that normally occupied the face of Atlantis'
chief scientist quickly slid back into place. "Yes, yes. But remember,
Elizabeth, I am a genius; even my guesses have a more than average chance of
being right."

Elizabeth's laughter flared briefly, then was eclipsed by a coughing fit that
should have brought one of the medical staff running. When it didn't, Rodney
scrambled to find a glass of water, some crushed ice, anything. In the scant
seconds left before true panic set in, he felt her hand on his again.

"Relax, Rodney, I'll be fine." The look on his face brought another grin to
hers. "Oh, I have missed you, Rodney."

"And I, well, I would have missed you, if you'd been gone, or at least not here
all the time, or --"

"I understand." Elizabeth chuckled again, and Rodney held his breath waiting
for those horrible, rasping coughs to start again, but they didn't. "You see me
everyday, but I've waited ten thousand years to see all of you."

Shifting in his chair, Rodney leaned against the bed. "Ah! But this is part of
what I was thinking about earlier. You haven't really been waiting to see
us, have you? You've been waiting to see the expedition team that you
knew." Eyes shining, Rodney starting gesturing with his free hand as he spoke,
not noticing Elizabeth's quiet grin grow wider. "If the multiverse theory is
correct, and I've been completely unable to disprove it but really, I haven't
had that much time, then your universe is parallel to ours. It diverged at some
point after you reached Atlantis, and we, while similar to the people you knew,
are not really them."

A gentle finger touched Rodney's lips, silencing him. "You are Dr. Rodney
McKay, brilliant astrophysicist, more than passable engineer," the finger tapped
the lips as they opened to protest, "ah, I said more than passable, and
one of my best friends. You are deathly allergic to citrus, fascinated by
Ancient technology and almost fatally attracted to smart, funny Air Force
majors. Have I missed anything?"

"Major." Rodney shook his head and drew back from Elizabeth's bed. "Major,
singular; Major Carter, she's pretty much it. And she's a lieutenant colonel
now anyway." His face drew in on itself. "Really, what other smart, funny
majors have I had a chance to meet?"

"Oh, Rodney." Elizabeth's voice said so much more than those simple words, and
Rodney could hear the exhaustion underlying every layer.

"You -- you should try to rest. I'm tiring you out."

"Tell him." Elizabeth's eyes drifted closed. "Tell him, Rodney. Don't miss
your chance like my Rodney did. You'll regret it, believe me." The final words
were a whisper, but Rodney heard them as he laid her hand back on the blanket
covered bed.

Silence reigned as Rodney sat at the bedside, twitching fingers the only sign
that he was thinking. The silence was finally broken by two sets of footsteps,
and he looked up to see Carson and their Elizabeth arrive.

"Still sleeping, is she?" Carson's voice had the hushed bedside quality Rodney
equated with off world missions gone bad.

"No. I mean, yes, she is now, but she was awake earlier. We ... spoke."
Rodney surged to his feet. "So, what's the plan? I assume you've come up with
a plan?"

Elizabeth answered while Carson was still processing the rapid change in
Rodney's tone. "We're going to administer a stimulant so she can tell us the
rest of her story."

Rodney blinked and straightened abruptly. "Yes, right, well, I'll let you get
to that then, shall I?" he said, and strode out of the infirmary.

"Did he seem a little -- off to you?" Elizabeth craned her neck to watch Rodney
leaving.

"Ah, that's just our Rodney; he's always a little off." Elizabeth returned
Carson's grin. "Now, what say we see what we can do for this dear lady?"

Elizabeth

Elizabeth Weir wheeled herself through the corridors of Atlantis, trying not to
boggle at the utter implausibility of it all. Then she remembered she was in
another galaxy, fighting for her survival and the survival of all her people
against life-sucking aliens, and wheeling her other self around didn't seem so
fantastic anymore.

"Oh!" The soft exclamation from the chair in front of her pulled Elizabeth to a
halt.

"What? Are you all right?" She dropped to her knees beside the chair, only to
see her older self's eyes alight with wonder.

"It's beautiful," the older Elizabeth breathed. "I never imagined it would be
this lovely."

Elizabeth looked around, trying to see the control room with new eyes. Ancient
technology was married to Earth laptops, the combination creating a cascade of
sound that provided a soothing hum to the room. Light flooded through the high,
multi-paned windows that graced the staircase down to the Stargate, casting
shadows that danced with the reflection of the ocean, even this high up. The
doors to the balcony that framed both the control room and the meeting room were
open and the blue sky silhouetted towers while the salt smell of the sea
perfumed the air.

"It is lovely, isn't it?" Elizabeth wondered when she had lost that sense of
joy in the beauty of Atlantis. "You never got to see Atlantis on the surface,
did you?"

"No, but it was worth the wait."

Two versions of the same woman shared a warm laugh, neither of them concerned at
the passing of time. Elizabeth settled herself comfortably beside the
wheelchair and joined her counterpart in just experiencing Atlantis for a few
moments, their silent admiration complemented by the seamless functioning of the
control room team around them. The moment was broken by the sounds of rapid
footsteps and a rising voice.

"Let me remind you, Major, I control the water and waste reclamation for this
entire city. You wouldn't want me to get those systems confused in your room,
would you?" Rodney rushed up the last few steps toward the meeting room.

"Aw, c'mon Rodney, I only called you Doc Brown once. I told ya you could call
me McFly and we'd be even." Sheppard slouched along behind Rodney, covering
ground quickly with an easy, loping sprawl.

"I will not call you McFly, I will not discuss that movie with you, and I will
not, ever, ride in a Delorean." Rodney ended his short rant facing the Major
with his hands on his hips, chin jutting forward.

Both Elizabeths turned their heads to await Major Sheppard's reply. "But," they
both grinned at the way John cocked his head slightly, knowing this meant he was
going to do something that would drive Rodney crazy, "would you eat green eggs
and ham?"

Rodney sputtered for a moment as some of the control room techs snickered behind
their hands. "I was wrong Major, you are not twelve, you're a five year old,
trapped in a man's body."

"What? I loved that book."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Rodney turned and entered the meeting room,
muttering to himself. The Major threw a grin at the control room in general,
then followed the scientist.

"Have they told you yet?" The quiet voice from the chair startled Elizabeth and
it took her a moment to process the question.

"No," she answered slowly, "no, they haven't. Did they tell you?"

Sadness settled on the older version of her own face. "They never had the
chance. But I thought, surely, by now --"

"Yes, I had thought so too, especially after the scare with the nanovirus. But
then, well, they had some problems. There was a bit of an issue with an alien
priestess."

"Oh dear," older Elizabeth said dryly.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered just as dryly. "But things seem better now. Maybe
they'll tell me sometime soon."

"And until then, you'll continue to watch out for them, won't you?"

"Wouldn't you?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at her older self.

"Of course." The woman in the wheelchair turned her head to stare at the
meeting room door. "Now, don't we have a meeting to attend?"

John

John Sheppard gazed down at the frail woman on the infirmary bed. This
Elizabeth Weir wasn't their Elizabeth Weir, but there were enough similarities
to make him grieve for a woman he both knew and didn't know. Carson had said
she likely wouldn't last the night, and John could see how much her latest round
of story telling had taken out of her. Quietly pulling a chair forward, he sat
down to keep vigil over her.

Fluttering eyelids were his first indication that Elizabeth was awake, followed
quickly by a slight cough. "Here, this will help," John said, leaning forward
with a cup of water.

"Thank you." John watched Elizabeth settle back against the pillows, exhausted
by the simple act of drinking. "You don't have to stay here, you know, I'm not
going anywhere." The sly grin that accompanied the words was one that John had
seen many times before.

"Hey, I'm not security." John leaned forward to take her hand in his. "I'm
just the guy who wants to spend time with a lovely lady on her birthday."

"It's my birthday?" John was surprised to see a look of dismay on Elizabeth's
face. "Oh dear, you shouldn't be here with me."

Puzzled, John laid his hand over hers, hoping to reassure her. "There's nowhere
else I should be."

"Of course there is! You should be with Rodney on your anniversary," Elizabeth
said, like that settled everything. "No couple should spend their first
anniversary apart."

"Rodney? Our anniversary?" John sat back in his chair, sure that his
shock was clear on his face. "Are you saying that Rodney and I are ... were ...
married in your timeline?"

Elizabeth craned her head to look at his left hand, his bare left hand.
"Oh, I guess some things are different then. I just assumed, when I heard the
two of you bickering, you reminded me so much of ... I'm terribly sorry." John
watched her turn her head away, and he reached out again.

"No, I'm sorry. You lost everyone on your team so you could save us. Tell me
about them?"

With a nod that could have been thanks or blessing, Elizabeth began. "Rodney
used to love to tell the story of how he captivated Major John Sheppard at their
first meeting with charm, wit and sex appeal. The truth is Rodney almost ran
him down with a snow machine at Williams Field in Antarctica. You," Elizabeth
paused, "John was our pilot to the outpost, and Rodney, well, you know Rodney.
Thankfully, John could see past the arrogance to the good man underneath. It
was difficult for them to find time for romance, but we all helped. We could
see they were made for each other; both so capable and devoted to doing what
they thought was right. When the Atlantis mission was proposed, they were the
first to volunteer. They were married in a quiet ceremony, on my birthday, a
month before we left."

John knew that Elizabeth had left a lot of things out, but he was sure it was
out of respect for the two men she had so clearly cared about. While he wasn't
certain he could believe that he and Rodney had ever been in love, Elizabeth
obviously believed it.

"Thank you for sharing that with me. I'm ... Rodney and I, we're not ...," John
felt himself beginning to blush at his stammering. "Not that there's anything
wrong with --"

"Relax, Major, it's fine." Elizabeth settled more comfortably on her pillows,
and John realized she would probably drift off again soon. "There's one last
thing I want you to know. When our ship was attacked, the last word I heard him
say was 'Rodney'."

The beeping of the monitors was the only sound in the room as John continued his
lonely vigil.

John and Rodney

Rodney walked quietly toward the bed that held Elizabeth's ten thousand year old
double. Major Sheppard was sprawled across a chair beside the bed, chin tucked
to his chest as he dozed.

"Major," Rodney whispered as he moved closer. Sheppard's head immediately swung
up, hazel eyes snapping open to freeze Rodney in place, hand still outstretched
to touch the other man's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Sheppard asked quickly, voice lowered in deference to Carson's
patient.

Rodney drew his hand back. "Nothing, nothing is wrong. I just, it's late, and
you need your rest. I'll sit with her for awhile if you'd like."

"You need your rest, too, McKay." Sheppard straightened up, cracking his neck
as he stretched his back. "You go ahead to bed, I'll be fine."

Rodney crossed his arms and looked down his sharp nose at the seated man before
him. "Oh, yes, I can see you're just fine. Did you manage to sneak a massage
therapist in as your personal item? Or were you just hoping that your back
would give up its struggles and accede to your wishes?"

"I said, I'll be fine, Rodney!" Sheppard crossed his arms as well, and glared
up at the other man from beneath his lowered brows. "Now, go to bed."

"Or, you could both go to bed, and let a poor, old woman get some rest." Two
heads snapped toward the bed comically fast.

"Ow!" Sheppard cried out softly, grabbing at the side of his neck.

"You were saying about feeling fine, Major?" Rodney asked snidely.

"Give it a rest, would ya, McKay?"

A happy sigh sounded from the bed. "I'm glad you two are still bickering; I
missed that."

"While you were," Rodney made a vague gesture with his hand, "in stasis?"

Elizabeth turned her head to gaze at the two men. "No, before that. You
stopped bickering when you decided that you couldn't both come to Atlantis if
you were together. You stopped arguing, you stopped bickering, you stopped
talking unless it was about the mission. I'm glad to see you didn't do that
this time."

Rodney and John stared at each when Elizabeth stopped speaking. "Together?"
they asked at the same time.

"You mean, together together?" John waved his hand back and forth
between Rodney and himself as he spoke, voice rising in disbelief. Elizabeth
simply raised an eyebrow in response.

"Yes, Major, she means together together. Really, what other kind of
together is there?" The words were right, but they lacked their usual snap.
Rodney himself looked like he could use a chair, as if the weight of the
conversation was wearing him down. Instead, he leaned against Elizabeth's bed,
his hip almost brushing the major's shoulder.

The smile on Elizabeth's face was full of genuine affection as she looked at
them. "That's the Sheppard and McKay I remember; always in one another's space,
never without a comeback, covering up deep feelings with charm and wit. It was
a blow to the team when we lost that." Elizabeth's face clouded over as she
spoke. "It's reassuring to see you've gotten past that."

"But we haven't, we aren't --" Rodney began, but Sheppard cut him off.

"We aren't out in this timeline." John felt Rodney jerk, one of his hands
flailing wildly toward John's shoulder. Without looking, John reached up and
grabbed it, holding it tightly against him, trying to calm Rodney with his
touch. "But we certainly wouldn't deny anything to a ten thousand year old
woman who gave her life to save us all, would we, Rodney?"

Although not known for his people skills, or his ability to pick up on subtle
cues, Rodney managed to understand what the major was saying to him. Rubbing
his thumb over the seam of the black shirt under his hand, he settled more
comfortably between the bed and the chair. "No, no, we wouldn't, Major, uh,
John."

Sharp eyes tracked the two of them, noting the hands that still lingered on
Sheppard's shoulder, almost without the knowledge of their owners. Elizabeth
nodded to herself and sighed again. "They weren't out in my time either.
But anyone who had eyes could see the tension there."

"Anyone?" Rodney almost squeaked.

"Well, I could," Elizabeth answered with a wry twist to her lips. "And when
they needed someone to help them, they came to me."

John stared at the woman on the bed. "Help them, or cover for them?"

"Both, and I was proud to do it." Rodney and John both recognized the
expression on Elizabeth's face; it was the saucy grin that said she would do
whatever it took to protect her people. "I arranged for Rodney to do all the
new personnel briefings at McMurdo. If anyone asked, I would have told them it
was a warning of what they were in for, but it was really a chance for the two
of them to spend time together."

"Hey!" Rodney blurted, but John's fingers tightened on his hand warningly. "Oh,
okay, maybe I can be a bit --"

"Overbearing?" John tossed a grin up at the other man. "Frightening?
Egotistical? Megalomaniacal?"

"Really, Major, multisyllabic put downs? I'm impressed. I must be rubbing off
on you."

The laughter from the bed stalled the byplay. Both men turned their attention
back to Elizabeth. "So," John asked when she had finally stopped laughing,
"what changed it?"

"The chair," Elizabeth said quietly. "When John was flying back and forth
between McMurdo and the base, they were able to pursue a relationship because
they weren't under scrutiny. Once it became obvious that John was needed for
the Atlantis mission, they realized that things would change. Colonel Sumner
didn't want John along, and too many people had grudges against Rodney. They
decided the mission was more important; I think they were wrong."

John felt Rodney's fingers digging into his shoulder, but he knew his own
fingers had gripped Rodney's wrist tightly enough to leave bruises. Taking a
deep breath, he loosened his grip, then shook his shoulder to loosen Rodney's.

Elizabeth watched the two men communicate silently, then continued with her
tale. "By the time we left for Atlantis, John and Rodney were barely speaking
to each other, and they never looked one another in the eye anymore. I
sometimes wonder if things would have been different if they had been able to
talk to each other --" Elizabeth trailed off, her eyes shadowed with memories
of her fateful arrival in Atlantis.

"Promise me something." Elizabeth's words rang in the room.

John looked up at Rodney and answered for both of them. "If we can."

"Don't waste this chance." Fierce eyes held both men in place. "Together, you
can do so much more than you think you're capable of." With that, Elizabeth
closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep again.

Long moments passed before Rodney thought to reclaim his hand. "I'll just, uh,
maybe I'll just go lie down over here on this table, then. Okay?"

John listened to the sounds of Rodney making himself comfortable, smiling at the
quiet grumbling about his back and his neck. "McKay ... Rodney?"

"Yes?"

"When this is all over, I think we might need to talk."

"I think you might be right."

"Okay. G'night, Rodney."

"Good night, Ma -- John."