Military brat

Title:Pandora's box
Rating:PG-13
Pairing: Elizabeth/Vala
Summary:It sucks not being in control of your own body, mh?
Note: for medie's annual Elizabeth Weir-drabble-a-thon


“It sucks not being in control of your own body, mh?” Vala’s question is phrased to match her trademark light tone, but Elizabeth knows, even without looking at her face, that her eyes are telling a whole different story. Much like the one her own eyes have been screaming for the past few months.

She hasn’t talked about this – not openly, at least – with anyone since she'd been rescued: not with her friends, and not with Vala. But she knows how hard it is for her to spend the night, not to run from any bonds that she feels are growing too tight for her own comfort. All Elizabeth can do in return is offer her the sincerity she deserves, no matter how much the notion of unleashing the memories scares her. Elizabeth thinks of it as a combined effort, and it gives her a bit of strength.

“I wasn’t strong enough to fight their influence. After a while, I started thinking like them. The more I used my abilities, the more I became one of them. I knew what was happening – I felt it happen, and I couldn’t stop it.”

Vala looks intently at her, her head propped upon a slender hand. She uses the other to draw circles on Elizabeth’s shoulder with slightly calloused fingertips.

“They assimilated you.” She says, tentatively. She’s still learning, about the Asurans, and about the Pegasus Galaxy. That even if the Goa’uld; the Ori; her daughter, are gone, there’s always another nightmare lying in wait just around the corner. “Set your consciousness aside.” She reiterates the concept with words that are more familiar to her.

“Yes.” Elizabeth’s voice is thinner than she’d like, and her hand trembles as she tucks a thick bang of raven-colored hair behind Vala’s ear, her thumb tracing the contours of the shell.

She knows what the next step is, but she’s reluctant to take it. The plethora of feelings stored in her own personal Pandora’s box are enough to overwhelm her body and soul, and she doesn’t know if, once opened, she would be able to replace all the evil inside, and seal it close.

Vala catches Elizabeth’s hand and tucks it close to her chest. Her heart is drumming wildly against her ribcage, and there’s a haunted look in her grey eyes Elizabeth has never seen before.

No one can hide forever, not her, and certainly not you, her mind whispers.

“Oberoth loved the smell of blood.”