She woke all in one rush, bolting
upright. Slipping her feet from the covers, she strode to the
windows, flung open the shutters so she could stare out and
down.
She watched the spires of the sleeping city, mostly dark this
time of night, and sagged against the windowsill. Reassured the
city was still here - she was still here - she turned
once again to contemplate her bed. The thought of sleeping made
her tremble, and she dressed quickly in the dark. She skipped
shoes, she wouldn't need them, and left the room in a silent
glide of doors.
Moving swiftly, she made her way to the balcony on the
easternmost tower, away from the day-to-day activity of
Atlantis. There she stood, staring out, smelling the salt of the
ocean, listening to the sound of the waves breaking against the
walls.
"Elizabeth?"
She turned at the voice. "John."
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
Her mouth twisted and she turned back to contemplating the
endless deep.
"Still having nightmares, then." He came and stood next to her,
resting his arms on the balcony.
"Yes."
"Carson said you would for awhile, right?"
She nodded. "Yes. He said something about trauma and memory.
Transference, maybe? I must admit I wasn't listening all that
closely."
John smirked. "Carson's good at the technical medical terms that
put you to sleep." He grinned over at her. "Rodney didn't help
either, I suppose?"
She chortled low, shoulders unknotting. "No, not really."
He stood up from his slouch. "Come on."
Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow at him.
He held out an arm to her. "We have a chance to get to the
coffee before Rodney."
She burst out laughing. "Alright."
She tucked her arm in his, her savior, the voice in her head
that hadn't let her give up, then smiled. She peered over her
shoulder as they left, one last look out at her real world, and
watched as dawn's gray light began to filter across the edge of
the ocean.
Later that morning, when she returned to her quarters to clean
up and find the shoes she'd forgotten, she found a wooden disc
with an intricate carving of Atlantis resting on her desk.
Underneath it lay a tiny slip of paper.
To remind you.
She smiled, feeling something unknot inside, and slipped the
disc into her pocket.