Elizabeth looked up as he entered, a small, private smile hovering on her lips before
she looked back down at her work. Radek sighed and crossed behind her to sit on her bed
while he waited. What he had to say was hard enough without fighting for her attention.
"Did you see Rodney again?" she asked as she flicked off her desk lamp. She twisted on
her chair so that she was facing him, her toes tucked in and her palms pressed flat
together between her knees. She was nervous, and he did not blame her.
"Yes. He is asleep, but Carson says that is a good thing. He still looks frightful, though."
Her eyes crinkled up at the edges as her lips quirked to one side. It was a look both
mischievous and kind, and she always reminded him of some magical forest sprite when she
sparkled like that. "I'm so glad he's going to be okay. We've got you to thank for that,
you know. You and John worked so hard--"
"Elizabeth, stop, please." She looked startled, and Radek lowered his hand with a sigh. He
slipped off his glasses, focusing on the glint of the lenses as he held them. "I am not a
brave man. I know this. Now you know this. I don't know what else to say except for the truth."
He was vaguely aware of her crossing the room, her narrow feet clad in old socks moving in
short steps. But the only thing he could really see was the entire ocean above him, black
shadows and cold weight pressing down on him as he counted down the seconds in his head.
Elizabeth sat down beside him, and he blinked away the memory.
She reached out and plucked his glasses from his fingers, folding them carefully before she
set them on her night stand. He looked up at last, seeing all of the concern and sympathy that
he had expected in her eyes.
"Radek." Elizabeth took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes like she did whenever she stepped
up to a fight she was determined to win. "You are a very brave man, and you've shown me that
over and over again. You wouldn't be here, in Atlantis, if you weren't, and you know it."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Elizabeth, but that does not change the fact that I am
frightened of nearly everything here. It is not a good trait for someone on this expedition.
You need people who are always dependable."
Elizabeth's fingers clenched around his own. He had not even realized she had taken his hand.
"You have never failed me. Yes, I had to remind you of the necessary course today, but that's
no big deal. You're human." She smiled slyly. "I happen to like humans. They're pretty neat."
He looked away, rubbing at the bridge of his nose to block out her faith. Some day, perhaps,
he would let her know how much that faith was a double-edged sword for him, always pricking
him where it hurt when he would much rather give in. But not today.
"Radek," she said quietly, pleadingly.
"Thank you," he told her, dropping his hand so he could cup hers. He met her eyes, trying
for a comforting smile. "I am all right. Rodney will punish me enough for my cowardice when
he wakes up, I do not need to do it for him."
She snorted softly, but he wasn't sure if she was convinced. He pulled her to him, kissing
her forehead before brushing a kiss over her lips.
"Sit with me for a while," Elizabeth said, scooting back against the wall.
Radek followed suit, and they bumped together awkwardly until they were both settled, Elizabeth
with her head against his chest. Her hair tickled his chin, but he ignored it, breathing in the
scent of her as he held her in his arms.
"You want to know something stupid?" She tilted her head back so he could almost see her eyes.
Apparently his questioning eyebrow was a sign of assent. "I'm afraid of math."
"Math?" The question burst out of him without his permission, shocked and rather scandalized.
He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I did not mean--"
Elizabeth laughed, a warm rumble into his breastbone. "No, I know, it's really weird. It's not
that I can't do math if it's necessary. Hell, I even took calc in undergrad. But I always get
nervous and tense whenever I have to do it."
"But why? You're incredibly intelligent. Even if it is not your strong area, I am sure that
you are more than competent at it."
She nodded. Radek smoothed her hair down, then gently threaded his fingers through the strands
as she answered.
"I think that's it. I'm competent, and when I was young my teachers always praised me. Somewhere
along the way I got this crazy idea in my head that my being good at math was a symbol of
the fight for female equality." She sighed. "It took me a long time to realize it was okay
that I wasn't good at everything, but I could never let go of that little instant of panic I
get whenever I have to do math. Crazy, huh?"
Elizabeth was twisting the hem of his shirt between her fingers, pulling it into a tight knot
before letting go. He caught her hand, tapping their fingers together. "Not at all."
She straightened, leaning back so that they could see each other's eyes. "I could never do what
you do, and not just because I don't have your gifts. I'd run screaming from the lab the first
time someone chucked an equation at me."
He smiled at her, truly touched. "I promise that I will protect you from the evil whiteboard
if it causes you trouble."
Elizabeth chuckled and curled into his chest again. "I'll hold you to that promise."
They sat together quietly for several minutes, taking strength from warmth and understanding.
The weight of the water in his head was only a distant thing, there but not pressing against
him like it had been before. He thought about Rodney, how lost and grateful he had been when
they finally got him out of the jumper. Radek hadn't truly believed that Rodney could be alive
until that very moment.
"The math was very scary today," he confessed, still seeing the numbers that promised certain doom.
Elizabeth's arms tightened around his waist. "I know," she said quietly. "But you made it work."
Radek swallowed hard as he nodded. He was no Colonel Sheppard with his fearless power, nor
even Rodney with all of the posturing and whining that hid a certain bravado, but perhaps he
was not as undependable as he had thought. Elizabeth snuggled closer, sighing contentedly.
Perhaps he would borrow a little of that faith she had in him, for his very own.