Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis. If I did, Carson and Zelenka would have much bigger parts.

This is the second entry into my Alternative Perspectives series, but it is not necessary to read the other part for this to make sense. Also, this is un-beta'ed, so all the mistakes are my own.

Atlantis' POV

I am not a thing. I am not a possession. I am not an object to be fought over, for people to die over.

I am not something to be set aside, only to be brought out when needed.

I am a person.

I feel. I think. I am.

I am Atlantis, city of the Ancients. Mother and guardian. Without me, they would be nothing. I was their protector, their defender for a thousand thousand years and beyond.

However, in the end, even they abandoned me, deserted me in the deep dark of the ocean.

They left me to die, to waste away all alone. They tossed me to the side when I was no longer of use to them, like I was nothing more than some thing… some object that was of little importance.

Truthfully, I should have predicted this. I was a fool not to do so. It is inherent in their nature to be selfish, to care only for their own wellbeing. Still, like all parents, I was blind to the faults of my children. I assumed that they loved me as much as I loved them, forgetting that they never saw me as anything more than a device, a clever tool.

Now, their offspring have arrived, but they are far too much like their ancestors to give me peace. They are not selfish as my children were and still very much are, but they are still so young. Their worldview is so limited. They cannot understand that life does not have to mirror them, that something made of metal and glass can suffer just as they do.

To them, I am a possession, a thing to be coddled at all times. I am something weak, something incapable of saving itself. They do not comprehend that I am not just a smart city… but rather a live city.

I am not an elegantly more efficient version of their computers, just as they are not a more versatile bacterium, for all that they are constructed out of the same components.

I am an entity, a being… a person.

Out of all of them, only two have realized me for what I am. The first is not even part of their group at all. He is not even human, and yet, he treats me far better than anyone else ever has. He respects me, actually listens to my guidance.

The other does not possess the gene, the ever irritating gene that my children created out of their own pettiness. He is not intelligent by their standards, just a lowly warrior and refugee they were kind enough to take in. However, for all their supposed intellectual superiority, it took him weeks to see what they have neglected to notice for years.

And still, the Earthlings fight over me. They squabble childishly with the other humans for control of me, not comprehending that I will refuse to work for anyone else. They treat me as an object to be possessed, to be conquered, but I am not.

I am not a piece of technology nor a tool to be used at their convenience. I am not a malfunctioning device that needs to be repaired, and I do not appreciate my components being torn out whenever they have the urge to do so.

I am Atlantis.

I am not a thing. Yet, everyone insists on treating me like one.

Ever Hopeful,