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The illness had spread pretty quickly throughout Atlantis. One of the teams must have picked it up offworld, and it had a long incubation period, so by the time Carson had realized there was a contagion spreading, they reasoned that everyone in the city had already been exposed. From there, the population of the city had been getting sick one by one.
Fortunately, it was manageable and treatable. Carson had likened it to a stomach bug - it was causing a lot of nausea and vomiting, as well as fatigue and in some cases, vertigo. But not much else. Most were able to recuperate in their quarters after a few nights rest with liberal applications of tuttle root soup. A few people had needed a little extra care in the infirmary.
Elizabeth was highly annoyed to be one of those people. She was laying on a bed - stubbornly staying in her regular clothes and laying on top of the blankets - while Carson ran some IV fluids for her. She had been feeling waves of dizziness which he had attributed to dehydration, and either she agreed to laying in the infirmary for a while and getting some fluids, or he was going to remove her from active duty. So, she begrudgingly agreed.
Unfortunately, she was also incredibly bored. Carson had ripped her tablet out of her hands the second he saw it, chiding her about needing to rest both her mind and body. Elizabeth laid on the stiff little pillow she was provided and stared at the ceiling, absolutely desperate to get out of there. She turned to look at her IV bag and saw it had gone down maybe 10%.
While she was busy contemplating squeezing the bag while Carson’s back was turned to make it run faster, there was suddenly a flurry of activity. She heard Carson barking orders and suddenly, there was a prone body being rushed into the room and onto the bed next to her. She shot up when she realized it was John, passed out, looking pale and damp.
Elizabeth tried to get up and a nurse appeared out of nowhere, a hand on her shoulder and giving her a stern look. She sat back down, frustrated, trying to look over everyone’s shoulders. “Carson, what’s going on?”
“Colonel Sheppard was found on the floor in his quarters,” he tossed quickly behind him before refocusing on John. Elizabeth didn’t press further, allowing the doctor to do his work. She’d grill him once she was sure John was stable.
They ran an IV and took his vitals. She could tell from listening to the conversation from the medical personnel that he was running a fever and his heart rate was through the roof. He’d been one of the few people who hadn’t been affected by the stomach bug so far, which they’d all attributed to his Ancient gene. But maybe that was a premature conclusion.
Eventually, after they’d got him going on fluids and injected him with a couple various medications, they got his heart rate down and Carson seemed to relax somewhat. He set his staff on various tasks of collecting and running diagnostics on John’s blood, and eventually they filtered away to various pieces of equipment, except for Carson. He turned to Elizabeth once all was said and done, ready to address her questions.
“How is he?” she asked, still perched on the side of her bed.
“Would you lay down please?” he asked, exasperated. “Honestly, you lot cause half your problems by never listening to doctor’s orders!”
Elizabeth ignored the outburst. She knew he was always affected whenever one of his patients was in a bad way. She complied with his instructions and then fixed him with a well? look.
“I’m not sure why he’s been affected worse than anyone else. I haven’t seen anyone’s heart rate skyrocket like this. I’m not sure if he overdid it somehow or if his body is reacting worse than everyone else’s.”
Elizabeth looked over at John’s face, and it was scary to think how easily this bug took him down. “He’ll be okay?”
“I hope so,” Carson sighed. “I’m doing what I can. All I can do right now is treat his symptoms, at least until I understand what caused this severe reaction. I need to go check in on his labwork. I’ll be back later.”
Carson shuffled out of the room, leaving Elizabeth alone with John. She sat back up as soon as he was gone, grabbed her IV stand, and slowly walked the few steps over to John’s bed. She felt a little lightheaded still, but the medicated IV drip was doing its job and already the world was a little less tilt-y than it had been.
She looked down at John. His hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly, as if he was concentrating very hard on something in his sleep. She hoped he wasn’t feeling any sort of pain. Elizabeth reached down to find his hand, gripping it in hers. His hand felt hot against her skin.
“You’ll get through this, John,” she said to him. “That’s an order.”
Elizabeth smoothed the hair back from his forehead and used the edge of his blanket to wipe the sweat off his forehead. It was disconcerting to see him so vulnerable. He’d been in a similar spot in the infirmary multiple times before, but generally it was due to an injury of some kind. Something definable and with clear parameters for healing. Carson being unsure why he was passed out like this was unsettling. Elizabeth let go of his hand long enough to drag a chair over to his bedside. It took a few minutes longer than she would have liked, due to running out of energy partway through, but eventually she made it back. She flopped into the chair and took hold of his hand again.
“You better not die, John,” she tried to joke to his sleeping form, but the words felt like acid in her mouth. Elizabeth unknowingly had spoken aloud her worst fear, and as soon as she said the words out loud, the fear followed, sending a shudder through her body. She had seen him just that morning, when he’d made a comment about her looking tired. He’d been concerned she was pushing herself, and it was at his urging that she went to see Carson that day for a check up. That had only been a few hours earlier. How had he gone from perfectly healthy and being concerned about her health, to being this ill, in such a short period of time?
“I can’t run this city without you,” she said quietly to him.
Her own words surprised her. It was more than just having a trusted military commander at her side, she realized. It was John, specifically, that she envisioned always being by her side. They worked together so well, like two notched wheels in a machine that turned simultaneously and kept the whole thing running. Maybe she could adapt without him, but she didn’t want to. It was a sobering thought.
Elizabeth took a breath and tried not to think about it. Instead, she stayed at a vigil by his bedside. She put her foot down about Carson trying to get her back in her own bed, and he fortunately gave up the fight with little effort. Better here than at your desk, at least, she thought she heard him mutter.
Eventually John’s team showed up and Carson allowed them through. When Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla filed in, she slid her hand from John’s, a little embarrassed. (Why am I embarrassed? she asked herself, but didn’t attempt to answer herself.) She fielded their questions, not that she had any real answers. Carson was running a genetic screening, which would take several hours. John’s team took their turns giving pep talks to his quiet form and then filing out of the room again to let them both rest. Teyla was the last out, and she placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“How are you?” Teyla asked, warmth in her voice. Elizabeth offered a half smile, one she didn’t really feel.
“I’m fine.”
Teyla nodded, her eyes slipping back to John. “Take care of him.” She nodded at Elizabeth and left the room as well.
Elizabeth ruminated over that. Take care of him. She wasn’t exactly doing anything. She supposed it was just a platitude. She suddenly yawned, and realized that interacting with John’s team had sapped what little energy reserves she had. She contemplated her own bed behind her, but the idea of standing up and walking over there sounded too exhausting to seriously consider. Instead, she scooted her chair closer to John and laid the upper part of her body down onto his bed. There wasn’t a lot of room, so she ended up with her head on top of his arm. She linked her hand back with his. In a way the warmth of his skin was comforting - his arm against her face and his hand in hers were radiating heat, and although she wasn’t cold, it felt nice. It reminded her that he was still alive, and that there was time to figure this out - plenty of time for Carson to solve the problem.
Maybe if her brain hadn’t been so addled by fatigue and dizziness, she might have been shocked to realize her concern for the rest of the city had dropped off dramatically the second John had been wheeled into the infirmary, and that suddenly, his wellbeing was the most important thing to her. Instead, her eyes dropped closed and she fell asleep, her hand intertwined with John’s.
***
Elizabeth woke up slowly, her awareness coming back in chunks. First was the sound of John’s heart monitor, beeping slowly and steadily. Good, no more racing heart, her half-asleep mind offered. Then came smell - antiseptics and the faint smell of the bleach laundry detergent they used for the infirmary bedding. Eventually, she opened her eyes. She was still laying on John. She saw her own arm on the bed next to his, their fingers lightly twined together. She’d fallen asleep holding his hand. Then she realized his skin - which was slightly stuck to her face - was no longer blisteringly hot. She untangled her hand from his and lightly touched the skin on his arm to confirm that he wasn’t running a fever any longer.
“Good morning,” came a mumbly voice from above her.
Elizabeth shot up and jerked her hand back, looking at John. Who was currently awake and staring at her.
“John!” she said, relief washing over her. “Thank God you’re awake.”
“What’d I miss?” he asked, voice light.
She laughed and rubbed at her face, feeling lines imprinted on her skin from her sleeping position. There was a crick in her neck, but she didn’t care. John was awake, and his skin had color in it again, and there was the sparkle of life in his eyes.
“Well, the stomach bug had it out for you,” she said. She sat up straighter, looking around the room for Carson. She wanted him to check John out and make sure he was doing okay. And her own IV stand was beeping an alert softly, out of fluids, her bag having run dry some time ago. “It was hairy for a minute there. You passed out and your heart wanted to burst its way out of your chest.”
“Huh. I feel great, actually,” John said. Elizabeth took him in, examining him from head to toe. He did look great - completely normal. Maybe a little rumpled from a night in the infirmary, not that it was a bad look on him.
Though, was any look bad on him? Elizabeth asked herself, then immediately felt her cheeks go warm. Yes, pale near-death! she answered herself. She cleared her throat.
“I’m going to go find Carson,” she said and stood up - then regretted it, a wave of vertigo hitting her so badly she almost fell over.
“Elizabeth!” John shouted and jumped out of his bed, grabbing her around the shoulders and easing her back down on her chair. “Take it easy.”
Her stomach roiled and she felt dangerously close to vomiting. Elizabeth gripped John’s arms until the nausea lessened and she felt safe enough to open her mouth again. “I guess I’m not as recovered as you are.”
“I’ll get Beckett,” he said, his concern for her visibly washing over him. He expertly closed off his IV and pulled it out. He’s done that a few too many times, Elizabeth thought, but she was amused more than anything, especially knowing how unamused Carson would be. He left the room, hospital gown flapping around him. He returned a minute later, Carson in tow. The doctor ran to Elizabeth’s side. He didn’t even bother offering an I-told-you-so. She was grateful for that, even as she felt apologetic for being one of his worst patients.
The two of them guided her back to her bed, and Elizabeth had to admit laying down felt good. Her head stopped swimming quite so violently when she was reclined. Carson got her a fresh bag of fluids, and John dragged her chair from his bed to hers and sat in it, taking up the same vigil she’d done for him 12 hours ago.
Once Carson had stopped fussing, he had answers for the both of them. “The Ancient gene turned out to be something of both a blessing and a curse, in this case. It seems like Colonel Sheppard’s body reacted to the virus by accelerating the immune response, in order to move it out of his system faster.”
“So sort of a one and done thing,” John offered.
“I guess so,” Carson shrugged. “But you’re on the mend now. I need to go check on everyone else with the gene. I suspect they may react the same way you did and I want them here in the infirmary when it happens.” Carson started to leave, then turned back, looking between the two of them. “Can you please stay out of trouble for a couple of hours? Elizabeth - if you get out of that bed one more time then I’m going to sedate you.” And with that, he was gone.
“He was joking,” John said, offering her a half smile.
Elizabeth chuckled - then regretted it, as her stomach lurched from the movement. “I don’t think he was, John.”
He watched her closely, in an unreadable look.
“What?” she eventually asked.
John grabbed her hand with his, mirroring Elizabeth’s actions from the previous day. “I just want to be sure you’re okay.”
Elizabeth’s stomach flipped again, this time unrelated to the nausea. She wanted to ignore the feeling, but it was a feeling she’d been having a lot lately. She had been in a few relationships and knew exactly what it was. She was attracted to John, but even more than that, she cared about him - a lot. Much more deeply than just a coworker-you-have-faced-death-with kind of situation.
She wondered how he felt about her. Obviously, she knew he cared about her a lot too. But in the same way? Elizabeth had seen his flirtatious side come out with other members of the expedition, and with many attractive denizens of the Pegasus galaxy. Occasionally he was a little flirtatious with her, but she’d always thought it was just his playful nature in general. He’d always been professional with her; had never come close to crossing any lines.
Why was that frustrating to her suddenly? Before, she’d appreciated it. It meant she could keep her own feelings at arm’s length, and she could focus on the city and the both of them could do their jobs. But now, after seeing him laid out in a bed, pale as a ghost… she was taking it as a sign.
“You only have one life to live,” Elizabeth said aloud, her thoughts coalescing into a decision.
“What?” John asked, alarmed at the seemingly random comment. He gripped her hand tighter.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Just thinking about regrets. Or, more accurately, not wanting to have any.”
He didn’t know where she was going with that. He looked nervous. “Do you have a fever, now?”
She was acting a little out of character, she supposed. But Elizabeth wasn’t getting any younger, and the past 24 hours was a reminder that life situations could change drastically at any moment. That someone you counted on to be there for you every day could be gone the next. Did she want to spend her whole life ignoring her feelings, only for one of them to die by Wraith or old age or an alien stomach bug, never having laid it out in the open?
“I think I need to tell you something,” Elizabeth started, haltingly. She met John’s eyes and attempted a steadying breath. But she suddenly found it very hard to say anything. Was she really about to do this? Tell her colleague, her friend, her confidante, that she had romantic feelings for him?
John leaned forward. “Elizabeth. What is it?”
“I think, I - uh - “ Elizabeth shook her head at herself. Just say it already! “I think I love you.”
John’s mouth sagged open a little, and it wasn’t often she made him speechless, so she felt that if nothing else, at least she’d surprised the hell out of John Sheppard today.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” Elizabeth said. She felt lighter for having shared it, but also suddenly very nervous. Those were the kinds of words that changed your whole world, whether for the better or not. “I just wanted to let you know.”
“Elizabeth,” John said, a smile breaking across his face. It was a full smile that lit up his whole face, one she rarely saw on him. “Of course I feel the same way.” He said it as if she’d said something incredibly, incredibly stupid. “Shit, I think I’ve loved you since our first week in Atlantis.”
Elizabeth would have sat up at that, if she didn’t think she’d puke directly on John’s lap in the process. “What?” she asked, completely confused.
“Elizabeth, you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know how anyone could not fall in love with you.” John leaned forward, getting into her personal space. “I just… never would have expected you to feel the same. Are you sure?”
She laughed. That was such a John question. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“I never wanted to undermine you by complicating things,” John offered by way of an explanation. Elizabeth looked into his eyes, the same old John eyes, but she could now see the raw emotion in them. Had it always been there and she’d just ignored it? Or maybe she hadn’t really understood what it was.
“I appreciate that,” she said softly. And she did. She appreciated everything about him, from the way he pulled her chair out at dinner to the way he challenged her when they argued over a leadership decision. He just complemented her. “But I think I’m ready for a little more complication in my life.”
John pressed his hand against her cheek, thumb stroking softly. Elizabeth’s stomach did the fluttery thing again, and she was starting to like it. “Hell, everything in my life is complicated, so I’m fine with it if you are.”
Elizabeth was unable to form words. His face was dangerously close to hers. She felt sick and needed a shower, but he didn’t seem to care about that, and all she wanted in that moment was for him to kiss her. She nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for John to take it as the invitation it was. He closed the distance and kissed her gently, pressing his lips lightly to hers. Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed him in. His lips just felt right against her own. John pulled away frustratingly quickly.
Elizabeth wanted more. She leaned up on one elbow to pull him back to her.
And then she nearly fell onto him instead as a fresh wave of dizziness shot through her from her sudden movements. John laughed as he laid her back down on the bed. She covered her eyes with her arm, willing her brain to stop moving of its own accord.
“Later,” he said. “When you’re better.”
“Promise?” Elizabeth asked, and she peaked one eye out from under her arm.
“Promise,” John replied, grinning. “And you know I always keep my promises.”