Keep up a brave front. Keep up a brave front. Smile. You're positive they'll come back all right. You don't doubt your decision. You don't doubt any decision. As John might say, 'Never let them see you bleed.' What movie was that from? Dr. Elizabeth Weir allowed herself one small world-weary sigh, looking around the command center to see if anyone had noticed. It was taking all her willpower not to pace right now.

She knew people saw her as the strong type, a natural leader - when in truth it was all learned behavior. Elizabeth had grown up fascinated by politics, by the sheer wonder of the intellectual possibilities presented by political science. She had come to negotiation as a means to put those theories into practice, disillusioned by an academic community that preached broad sweeping changes and intellectual utopias, but never did anything to make these theories reality. Maybe she had been wrong to believe that the world could be a better place, but she'd be damned if she sat on the sidelines when she had something to contribute. So she had worked hard - learned to be a good leader when it took every effort of will not to break down.

And sometimes, she still did. She made the mistake no military commander would ever make a day after they arrived in Atlantis - allowing Rodney to see her second-guess herself. Elizabeth knew that she was only human, but true leaders were supposed to be superhuman - collected and charismatic. Something John Sheppard seemed to do with ease. He was the only person she felt she would be justified in expressing her fears to - he seemed unflappable, but her fears were about him and the very fact that he wasn't here, so she couldn't.

She hadn't wanted to send Major Sheppard out into the field with pending medical tests, but he assured her it was just a headache. But do you believe him? She doubted she could trust John Sheppard when it came to matters of his own health - not when he saw other things as more pressing.

Elizabeth had seen his type before: the silent hero. Well, John was far from actually being silent, but he was not one for self-aggrandizement either. He thought so little of himself that he would gladly sacrifice his life for others. He was one of the few people she had met that actually bought into the military line - the idea of fighting for something greater - that the individual soldier was somehow far beneath the fight and those who dictated it. John didn't want to play the hero, but he wanted to preserve what he felt to be right. She wondered: what could have happened to a man with so many obvious talents to make him think he was expendable?

Elizabeth had never approved of that particular part of military operation - soldiers were still individuals, yet she fell into the trap of admiring Major John Sheppard, even when she disagreed with him. In fact, if she allowed herself to admit it, it was a little hard to avoid hero-worship. She didn't think she could stand to lose him, not on some futile rescue mission, not before she could show him how valuable he really was.

No, Elizabeth, you can't let him become another one of your projects. You're a sucker for hard-luck cases and it always comes back to get you. You think you can change them - repair the little bird's broken wing, even when you know that as soon as you do, it will want to fly away. John needed a friend, not a mother.

He must enjoy life as the lone ranger - otherwise he wouldn't live it. God knows he doesn't have to. She was astounded that he had a master's in mathematics, and had been a childhood chess champion - the stuff only background checks for high-clearance projects like this one could dig up. Yet, how did someone with so much potential end up ferrying military higher-ups around down at the end of the earth? That was a question she still couldn't answer. The still-ambivalent but playful spiritualist in her suggested that perhaps fate had guided him there. After all, what were the chances of the General's chauffeur being the most natural operator of Ancient technology any of them had seen?

Then again, maybe she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop - perhaps when she found the 'why' even the government's most thorough background checkers couldn't, she'd regret she ever requested him in the first place.

Of course, she hadn't expected the other shoe to drop so soon, or in the form of a large and rather expressive Scotsman.

Doctor Carson Beckett arrived in the command center panting and distressed. "Where's Major Sheppard?" he gasped urgently.

"He's off-world." Elizabeth tried to calm herself, but the concerned and slightly angry expression in the doctor's bright eyes worried her more than she could say. "Why?"

Carson appeared to be attempting to restrain his anger. "You ... you're telling me you let the Major off-world?"

Elizabeth nodded guiltily. Her first instinct had been to keep him here, but he had made her question herself. It would be so easy to let John take control. He knew how to run military operations. He believed so fervently ... she couldn't help but get swept up in it. She couldn't help but believe him when he said everything would be okay.

"Mary, Mother of Jesus," Carson swore quietly, accent thickening. "Well, you need to get him back here."

And she wanted to. If John's life were at stake ... . But she needed to think of the risks to the rest of the team, use the cost/benefit analysis that was so easy employed sitting at a negotiation table when people were numbers and figures dancing across the page or in a classroom where moral choices were nothing but a 'thought experiment.' "Back up, Doctor. What did you find on the scan? What kind of risk to the Major's health are we talking about?"

"A major one." Beckett almost winced. She could never tell if he was actually trying to joke or if it just came out that way. "First glance, I didn't notice a thing ... but when the bloodwork came back, and the Major's neurotransmitter levels were all over the board, I took another gander and ... Well, in short, there's a shadow on his brain."

Elizabeth had read and reread all the relevantly groundbreaking reports from the SGC, and she knew this could mean a myriad of things - visions of the future, possession, the presence of a Goa'uld, and so many others, none of them good.

She took a deep breath. This is not the end of the world. We can fix this. "How immediate a problem is this? Can you give me an estimate of how much time until his condition becomes critical?" He did think they were just headaches, after all.

"I don't think you're understanding me, Dr. Weir. His condition is critical. I have no idea how long until this worsens -if it hasn't already- but I do know that I need as much time as possible before it does, just to figure out exactly what's going on. I don't even know what is happening, let alone why."

Costs/benefits. Costs/benefits, not what you want to do. John had specified no radio contact until a sixth-hour check-in. She could give away their position, alert the Wraith to the activity from the gate. She had two teams out there now. John wouldn't want you to contact him. And even if she did, what were the chances of him coming back? Slim to none. "I'll alert him at our scheduled check-in time."

"But ... Dr. Weir ..."

Only years of practice allowed her to iron the uncertainty out of her voice. "We can't afford to compromise his mission. There are so many things at risk, the major's life among them." Only then did she allow her features to soften. "Do all you can until then."

"Yes, Ma'am." Beckett didn't look happy. But Doctors had it easy - the Hippocratic oath gave them a single and supreme goal: the well-being of the patient. The rules were simple and direct. But people like her couldn't afford to focus on a single life. How could she be expected to determine what's best for the inhabitants of a city, let alone the entire societies that stood to lose or gain from her actions? No amount of training could have prepared her for this.

Dr. Elizabeth Weir finally allowed herself to pace, but she did not yet hang her head in defeat: John Sheppard had already proven that he could beat the odds. And she could hope that he would continue to do so.