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SGA fic: The Traveller 1/1 K+ (Weir angst)
Title: The Traveller
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: K+
Spoilers: All Season 2
Warning: Implication of addiction
Summary: Who is Elizabeth Weir? She's not sure these days. Allies Spoilers. Elizabeth character angst.
A/N: Betaread by Fanwoman & fififolle
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She doesn't know what she's still doing here, fighting a war as if she knows how. She doesn't want to know, but she's beginning to. And who is she becoming in the process? In the darkness of the night, she sees that it's not someone she can often bear. The pills make the ghost of her old self go away, or at least they hush her conscience. Her concern is confined to slips by her subconscious, for it's in her dreams that she can't escape herself. It's never as blunt as to tell her plainly what is wrong – how to fix it.
So she carries on because she is only fractured, fissured, and in times like this, you don't mend what's not actually broken. She'll carry on until she falls. Someone else will pick her up, piece her back together as the woman they know, because she doesn't know herself well enough anymore to be able to do that. She has to hope she won't shatter completely; she has to be Elizabeth Weir in some recognizable form to be able to go back to what she once was. She hopes she will still be able to when this is over, but in the darkness, right now, she fears this is what she should be, her true form. She wonders if this is someone she won’t be able to walk away from, but instead, someone she’s been journeying towards becoming her whole life without ever knowing it.
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: K+
Spoilers: All Season 2
Warning: Implication of addiction
Summary: Who is Elizabeth Weir? She's not sure these days. Allies Spoilers. Elizabeth character angst.
A/N: Betaread by Fanwoman & fififolle
###
She doesn't know what she's still doing here, fighting a war as if she knows how. She doesn't want to know, but she's beginning to. And who is she becoming in the process? In the darkness of the night, she sees that it's not someone she can often bear. The pills make the ghost of her old self go away, or at least they hush her conscience. Her concern is confined to slips by her subconscious, for it's in her dreams that she can't escape herself. It's never as blunt as to tell her plainly what is wrong – how to fix it.
So she carries on because she is only fractured, fissured, and in times like this, you don't mend what's not actually broken. She'll carry on until she falls. Someone else will pick her up, piece her back together as the woman they know, because she doesn't know herself well enough anymore to be able to do that. She has to hope she won't shatter completely; she has to be Elizabeth Weir in some recognizable form to be able to go back to what she once was. She hopes she will still be able to when this is over, but in the darkness, right now, she fears this is what she should be, her true form. She wonders if this is someone she won’t be able to walk away from, but instead, someone she’s been journeying towards becoming her whole life without ever knowing it.
poor Weir
Lovely fic, very evoking. bravo, my friend.
and now, to (mis)quote a cool movie: "So long and thanks for all the fish, Elizabeth."
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