It was late one night when she found it. It was not part of her regular routine, she was not looking for it, but she found it nonetheless. Feeling that ominous lump she frantically cast her mind back to when she last did a breast exam, panicked when she could not remember. So much had happened during the last few months that mundane matters such as breast exams slipped through the cracks. After all, it was easy to become blasé about it when you never find anything; but it is a mistake to do so. A mistake that just may prove fatal.
Calm down, Elizabeth, she told herself firmly. There is no use in getting worked up over nothing. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to complete her nightly ritual, cleaning, brushing her teeth, combing her hair. Finally, standing in just a bathrobe in front of her bathroom mirror, she steeled herself to check again. Probing slowly and carefully it was not long before she found it again. It was undeniably there; small, hard, and oddly painless. Is that a good or a bad thing? she wondered.
Forcing the matter from her mind for the night, she lay down to sleep. A troubled sleep, broken by intermittent waking spells for staring into the dark for what seemed like hours at a time.
The next day was torture. As it so often happened here in the Pegasus Galaxy, everything seemed to go wrong at once, and everyone needed the attention of the indispensable Dr Weir. She tried hard to keep her mind on her work—Atlantis would not run itself, and there was the ever present threat of the Wraith to consider—but It would creep into her thoughts unbidden, demanding her attention. She had been in dozens of situations over the years where death was a likely outcome if her negotiations failed, and there were a couple of such situations here on Atlantis. But she had never felt her mortality then as much as she did now. Not even when Kolya had his weapon pointing at her and was telling Sheppard he was going to kill her.
Naturally, people noticed her distraction. For the most part she was able to shrug it off by saying she was tired or that she had a lot on her mind (which was true). These excuses were easy to accept, for no one envied Elizabeth Weir her role as leader of the Atlantis Expedition. The only person who seemed to be able to see through her façade was John Sheppard.
In a rather unusual move for her, Elizabeth decided to leave her reports and retire to her room early. She was in no frame of mind to be dealing with them, and she really needed to decide what to do. Logically she knew that she should speak to Carson and get it checked out as soon as possible. Yet she hesitated in doing so.
Having ignored her door chimes, she knew she should not have been surprised to be summoned by her comm. gear, but she started anyway. “Dr Weir.”
“It’s me,” Sheppard announced. “I’m standing outside your door; can you let me in please?”
“I’m really not in the mood right now Colonel, so unless it’s official…”
“It’s not, but I figured you needed to talk.”
“That’s really nice of you, John; but I’m rather tired. Perhaps another time?”
“You see, now that tells me there’s something wrong. If you want I can call McKay and get him to let me in. He owes me a favour or two.”
Elizabeth sighed. As much as she wanted to be alone right now, she knew that Sheppard would do as he threatened, and Rodney McKay would probably let him in. The rumour mill would love that little development. She should be able to get rid of him in short order—at least, that’s what she told herself as she got up to answer the door.
John held up two steaming mugs in greeting. “Peace offering?”
She took one and stood aside to let him in (it was better than an argument in the corridor). “What have you done this time, Colonel?” she asked in resignation.
“Nothing,” he affected an innocent, yet slightly wounded look. “I just thought you’d like some coffee. You seemed out of it today.”
Despite herself she perked up. “Coffee?”
He nodded. “The last of it until the Daedalus returns. I figured you could use it. And we don’t have to talk about whatever’s on your mind if you don’t want to. We can just have a chat about inconsequential things over coffee.”
A smile broke out unbidden on her face. “Have a seat.”
“I found a lump.” The statement slipped out, a non sequitur in the middle of anecdotes about Gate missions. She had not meant to say anything, but there it was, too late to take back.
“Excuse me?”
“I found a lump last night.”
Whatever you could say about John Sheppard, he was not stupid. He instinctually knew that she was talking about a personal thing, and not some general topic. He also knew what could be so potentially serious. “On your…” he trailed off, ineffectually indicating her breasts.
She nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I checked for any either. With everything that’s been happening lately…”
“Wow,” John put his mug on the floor and reached for her hand. “Have you seen Carson about it?”
She shook her head. “I only found it last night. I haven’t really had a chance to deal with it yet.
John knew a cop out when he heard one. “You shouldn’t put it off, Lizabeth. It’s better to just get it over with. Besides, it may not be that serious.”
Elizabeth frowned. “How can you say that, John? Surely you know that the statistics are…”
“Sure I do. My sister found a lump on her breast once. Gave us all a few bad weeks while she went through all these tests to see what it was. Turns out it was some hormonal thing. Chances are that’s all you’ve got too.”
“Chances are it’s more serious than that too,” she countered.
“All the more reason for Carson to check you out. The sooner the better. In fact, why don’t we go see him right now? I’m sure he won’t mind.”
She balked. “It can wait until morning at least. I don’t want to disturb him when he’s off duty…”
“And you’ll keep finding excuses not to see him until it’s too late,” John predicted, bringing his other hand up to his communications gear. “Colonel Sheppard to Doctor Beckett.”
“Aye Colonel?”
“Can you meet me and Dr Weir in the infirmary please?”
“Aye, there’s a lump there all right.”
Not the most comforting words to hear, Elizabeth mused, trying to lie still as Carson Beckett conducted his own breast exam. “I don’t suppose we have mammogram facilities here in Atlantis,” she quipped.
“Not exactly,” the Scottish doctor replied. “But the Ancients did have ways of checking these sorts of things out. We can do the scan now if you wish.”
“What, now?” Things were moving way too fast for Elizabeth.
“No time like the present. Besides, it’s not like back on Earth, when you had to make specialist appointments in advance.”
“That’s true.” Nervously she waited while Carson wheeled a tray over with what looked like a small CD player on it. Attached to this device was a long cord with a sensor on the end that looked like it belonged to an ultrasound machine. She commented on this as the doctor attached the device to his laptop.
“Aye, it does a little,” he replied. “It works a little like an ultrasound too, only it’s much clearer and you don’t need any of that goo. Now this will just take a few moments, and we’ll get the results straight away. You can watch it on the monitor if you wish.”
“Please. Ooh, it feels warmer than an ultrasound.” Carson made no reply to this, and Elizabeth busied herself watching the unfamiliar images play out on his monitor. Time and again he came back to the same spot that seemed darker than the surrounding area. “What is it, doctor?”
“Could be nothing.”
“It might not be, either. What are you thinking?”
“Well,” Carson hesitated. “It could be an intramammary lymph node, but it’s hard to tell. I’m gonna need to take a small tissue sample to be sure.”
“A biopsy?”
“Nothing as bad as that. It’ll just take a few more minutes, and then you can go to bed.”
Duly, a few minutes later, John turned to find Carson leading Elizabeth out of the infirmary. “I’ll have the results for you in the morning,” the doctor was saying.
Elizabeth looked at John in surprise. “You’re still here?”
“I wanted to make sure everything was all right. Is it?”
“We’re waiting on some results, but if it’s what I suspect, she has nothing to worry about.”
John let out a sigh. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“Now I’ve given Dr Weir a mild sedative to help her sleep. Could you see that she makes it back to her quarters all right so she doesn’t fall asleep in the corridors somewhere?” Carson ignored Elizabeth’s glare as he said this. He knew that John Sheppard cared enough about her to do this without a fuss, and he also knew that John would not listen to any protestations that she could get there on her own.
“Will do, doc.”
Elizabeth awoke the next morning in some confusion. She was lying in her bed, fully dressed, with no memory of how she got there. The last thing she remembered was leaving the infirmary with John Sheppard. Looking around, she found that man sitting in a chair by her bed, balancing a tray of pastries on his lap. “Have you been here all night?” she asked in a mildly rebuking tone.
John shook his head. “Nope. After leaving you here I went back to my room to get some sleep. I woke early and decided to get us some breakfast. I figured that you would want some privacy until you got the results back.”
“Thank you,” she reached for a pastry and one of the mugs of tea that was on the tray. “But you didn’t have to worry.”
“I know.”
They ate a while in silence, comfortable at first, but growing more awkward as the silence went on. “I’m fine!” Elizabeth snapped finally, when he looked at her in concern.
“Yes, you are,” John replied. “And when the results come back you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“One way or another,” she finished. Then, to her horror, she started crying.
To his credit, John took this in stride. He stood up, placing the tray on the chair he vacated, and sat next to her on the bed, drawing her into a comforting embrace. He gently rocked her back and forth, murmuring platitudes as he stroked her hair. “You okay?” he asked when she drew back.
She nodded. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s okay. The situation’s bound to have you worried. My sister spent a lot of time in tears while she was waiting for her results to come in.”
Elizabeth smiled wanly. “I feel like an idiot. I’ve been in situations where I’ve faced death before, especially in the last couple of years; but I’ve never felt so afraid before.”
“This is different. It’s a situation totally beyond your control, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it…”
John would have said more, but it was interrupted by Elizabeth’s comm. set going off. It was Carson. “Dr Weir, could you report to the infirmary please.”
She looked at John, fright suddenly appearing in her eyes. He nodded in conformation. “I’ll be right with you.”
“Thank you. But could you give me a few minutes to freshen up?”
“Sure.”
“I was right,” Carson said brightly as Elizabeth and John walked into the infirmary.
“Nothing to worry about?” Elizabeth asked, holding her breath.
“Just an intramammary lymph node, as I suspected. You have no cause for concern whatsoever.”
John and Elizabeth let out simultaneous sighs of relief. “Thank you, doctor,” Elizabeth said.
John swept her into his arms for a quick hug. “Told you that you had nothing to worry about,” he whispered into her ear.
“Thank you,” she whispered back before pulling out of the embrace. “We’d better get back to work,” she said in a louder voice, conscious of the fact that the infirmary was not empty. “Thank you again, doctor,” she spoke briskly before walking out.
“Anytime,” Carson called after her, a knowing smile on his face.
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