Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

A short tag I felt i must write for "The Seige Part 2" – Elizabeth's thoughts as they stand and wait.

Spoilers: For all of Season one including Seige part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

Duty: What is right

His fingers punch in the codes as do mine, his hands trembling, his weary body shuddering to John' goodbye.

I think of what he'd said to me. The statement, accusatory, just before.
'You let Sheppard fly that jumper.'
It would have been a question but he wasn't looking for an answer.
And now I wonder whether I did the right thing.
Only I know I did.

We're all scared and John's our best hope, our last defense jetting off in the rigged puddle jumper.

Teyla isn't responding, nor does Ford from where ever they all are.
And now Everett can't be traced.
We might be saved if this works, whoever is left by then.

So here we stand next to each other, waiting for the word.
For what is half our salvation and our worst dream.
The price will be heavy and if it works I wonder who'll be the other sacrificed.
Miller? Carson? Rodney...?
The short list creeps in my mind, the decision had been John's but the next might be mine. Who to ask, who to order, who to send to their death.

There was the look John gave me as he hesitated on the stairs - letting me know he'd do it anyway, he just wanted to leave on good terms because he doesn't expect to come back; because he hopes to succeed.

And Rodney...he's just angry that there is no other way. That I let it be like his, that he couldn't have time to figure it out.

John said goodbye to me but not to Rodney. He didn't know what was going on for sure until he saw it on the sensors, he'd come rushing in not long after John left me, by then he'd figured it out more or less.

As to why?

Time is precious and I can only presume John knew Rodney wouldn't let it be, might have insisted on taking his place. Whoever went we'd have lost a man, though some guilty part of me is glad it's not Rodney and hoping the Major can pull it off and come out the other side. A slightly happy ending to this, if it exists.

Either way I can tell Rodney already feels guilty for it, feels guilty for everyone. For not getting that ZPM, for not getting Peter off the satellite, for so many things and so many people who thinks he should have saved.

He shakes at my side and I lean into him, clasping his hand in support. He's not slept for a week if he's been telling the truth. His body long overdue, mind crashing, barriers breaking; more than snappy but he carries on. Letting loose only when its ok to, when military men push him too far and when once again they undervalue the science that saves the day. The science that usually provides the solution is his product and if I know him well that will fuel his guilt further, that his science killed his friend – the instrument of destruction he finished with his own tired but somehow steady hands.

But still he's standing, right by me, waiting for a sign.He stares out into the gate room as Sheppard flies into the wraith fleet.
I'm scared for all of us. Glad we're here, holding on as humans tend to do, but not sure how long that will last. If it can.
I squeeze his hand again, uncertain how much is to reassure him and how much to comfort me. His hand shakes wildly beneath my own, palms sweaty with fear. Apart from that he shows little sign of caring, the usual barriers gone and new stronger different ones in place. Devoid of sarcasm but now nearly blank, letting through just enough to be human but the rest locked deep within.

And still he stands by me, looking to me for further orders, anyway to change this, anyway to make up for what he feels he's done.
The only other thing is in his eyes, the sadness that emanates I have to look away from.

He stands by out of duty but I'm grateful he's here. Someone left, someone to be sure of because when it comes down to it he gives everything, does everything he can. Such a shame this is the conclusion and that it turned out this way, for all his efforts there was little we could do to stop this.

All there is is limiting the damage, staving off our demise; at best preventing anymore loss of life.
There are of course those who might still have to sacrifice themselves, the causalities of war that are done for the hope that the rest will survive.
Survival is all we ask for, that I pray for for these good people and myself.
But there's the guilt that goes with it, for everyone of us. If we live or if we die, nothing will ever be right again.

At last I feel his grip tighten around my hand, a response to show he's there and not simply standing in, carrying on as he has to. He's here because this is the end and for all his holding us at arms length, we are friends and family. Everyone's together in this.