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"We could stay," he says, fidgeting with a little leather braid. One of the Athosian children gave it to him. It was in the 'go to Earth' pile, but it hasn't left John's hands.
"We can't," she says. Elizabeth hasn't started packing. She can't. She'll be ready to go when they need to be, but this is home. She can't leave.
"It wouldn't be Atlantis, hypothetically speaking, but we could stay."
They shouldn't. They have jobs. Everyone on Earth will want to give her a position.
Elizabeth doesn't want another position. This is home. Maybe she'd rather have the closest thing that some pointless job.
They turn in identical letters of resignation and leave before the SGC can reply. Elizabeth writes a letter for her mother that Carson takes. John sends one for his brother.
That's it.
She didn't have an apartment. John has a family home, but his brother will keep it. They're stateless, planetless, unemployed — all the barriers are gone. Their last names follow.
Ronon still calls him Sheppard for a time, but Teyla uses John, and Elizabeth slips in with them, falling into a routine. The morning Ronon calls her Elizabeth while they make tea in front of the tent, it hits her.
Really hits her - like she's walked through a new event horizon.
This is home. She might never send another email, and when her bra wears out she'll have to get used to leather.
"You won't really miss email," John teases her when she mentions it, sitting by the fire.
She misses the shower, but not enough to be back on Earth in some soulless apartment. The children teach her to braid her hair, so it's back out of the way, and it grows out, so does John's in the absence of a barber. Elizabeth runs her fingers through his hair, listening to the fire.
The barrier between them fell so quickly that all they had was the dust of the old ways.
John starts his book again with his head in her lap. One of the trading parties promises to bring him books if they see any. Printing presses aren't unheard of but Genii literature is full of spies and intrigue.
"It's not the light reading War and Peace was?" She teases him, blowing out the candles next to the bed.
"I took notes." He nestles into her shoulder. "Knew it would be a lot to remember."
"You could take notes on this one."
"Could." He mumbles something incoherent into the back of her neck. "Won't have wikipedia."
Elizabeth winds her fingers into his where they rest on her stomach. "We'll get used to it." His breathing is slow and steady, because he is. They are.
Maybe it's fate, or that it's been months and she hasn't done anything about her birth control. Carson used too- but he's gone. The Athosians have herbal ways, and they might work, but Elizabeth only thinks about it when she hasn't had to ask what Athosians use for menstration.
She might have noticed earlier if she wasn't so tired. That in itself is something, but she hasn't let herself think about it.
Of course, she's tired. They're always traveling, cleaning, cooking, reading—
She waivers on one of the trade missions. It's barely anything, her blood pressure must be low. That's happened before. John's hand is on her shoulder, then she's having half an argument with Teyla about sitting down.
Ronon threatens to lift her up, and the argument ends with her sitting against a tree near the 'gate. The wind rustles and the shade is cool. Teyla makes her eat and John holds her water bottle against the back of her neck.
"She does kind of look sick," Ronon says. "More pale than usual."
John looks at Teyla, who is too kind to say what she's thinking, but they've always been good at speaking without words.
"We'll give you a minute, Ronon and I can finish."
"Get the boots, those were nice."
"We will get your boots." Ronon leans in, touching Elizabeth's shoulder. "Don't throw up on his before we get the new ones."
"I'll try not too."
John sits beside her, hands on his knees. "Are you going to throw up?"
"He's exaggerating."
"There's grass there." He points to her left. "Aim that way."
"I'll try."
"I know aiming's really not your thing."
"Seems like it's yours."
John takes a deep breath, then chuckles. "Always been a good shot."
"What do we do?" She leans her head on his shoulder, curling into his arm.
"I'm sure Teyla knows something—"
Elizabeth's eyes sting. "I don't want to."
John's fingers wind into hers. "Okay." He traces his finger across her knuckles. "Not doing anything is kind of a choice here."
"I know."
"That's what you want?"
She hasn't thought about wanting in months. She wanted to go home to Atlantis. Being pregnant doesn't make that any less likely. Their kid might be old enough to turn on a jumper by herself by the time the Ancients decide to share Atlantis.
Their kid is a person then, dark-haired and green eyed, and she wasn't nauseated before but now.
"I don't know what I want."
"That's okay."
John's arm goes around her and pulls her in tight. "The Athosians have plenty of kids, and they're happy kids. Hypothetically speaking, of course."
"Is that a proposal?"
He chuckles again, kissing her hair. "Can do that to if you want, might take awhile to find a good ring, but I'm sure we can find one."
"I meant-"
"I know, I just wanted to joke about it."
"Before it's real." Elizabeth stares at their hands, wound together.
"Sometimes you just gotta dive in, do the reckless thing."
"That's what we've been doing."
"Not bad so far."
Elizabeth turns, half in his lap, trying to see his eyes. He's right, and she doesn't know how to say it because this is not how her life was ever going to go.
But here they are, together, staring at a future neither of them ever imagine in another galaxy.
Somehow, that's all right.