Weakness by AndromedaMarine
A spark passed unnoticed between them. Glints in the deep recesses of their hearts – of their minds – flashed through their eyes and into the air, where only they could see it. Unspoken agreement that there was nothing they could do to avoid the inevitable. He could swear that seeing her every day was the one thing that kept him going. He would swear that his reason for being was always moments away. There was only one thing that frightened him – the nightmares that he would lose her someday.
Saying nothing took its toll on her. Eating away at her heart, the spark reminded her again and again that she couldn't put off love forever – that she was allowed to put off work for rest. For love. Those secrets could be the end of her sanity, and there was no escaping him or his smile. He was there every day, in her office with a cup of coffee from the commissary, an extra if it was morning. But he would inevitably be in her office when she arrived, refusing to let her ignore that spark.
Sometimes he wished they had a normal life. Sometimes he wished that there was no Pegasus galaxy, no Stargate, no SGC. He wished they'd met under normal circumstances – at a bar, or in a store. Sometimes he wished that he couldn't compare casualties in Pegasus with casualties in Afghanistan. He hated thinking about the fact that Pegasus had more. Sometimes he wished that they were allowed to have a relationship and, in tandem, a child. Sometimes he wished that he could give her that diamond ring that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the pocket of his fatigues.
There was something wrong about that morning when the rain battered the conference room windows. He sensed it; she sensed it. They sensed that they were the only ones privy to the feeling, because it was exactly like the spark. He didn't want to take her off-world. It was a diplomatic mission, and he knew he'd have to ignore the pounding of his heart when he knew her eyes were trained on him. He didn't want to take her because of that feeling – the spark only both of them felt.
She knew she had an obligation to go on the mission, but the spark told her something was horribly wrong. It was still well known that Michael was employing the Hoffan drug on many planets, and the colonel was horrified that something would go wrong.
The spark had never been voiced.
The spark never would be voiced. It was never given a chance to speak for itself, because the horrible feeling had been truth. John realized that the rain mirrored his heart, for it was still coming down in sheets when they returned, one person on a stretcher. One person came with no pulse and no spark. One person returned empty. Elizabeth was gone.
"The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're alive."
Author's Note: This story is based on my personal experience. I too have that deep fear that I'll lose someone – and I know I'm too afraid to admit the truth.