Spoilers: None really
Summary: Response to the McKay/Weir Apologies challenge.
Warnings: Weird angst.
He was sorry.
He said so every day. It was still hard to stomach hearing the ache in his voice and see the uncertainty on his face as he waited for acceptance and forgiveness.
"Elizabeth?" he pleaded, voice breaking as he said her name.
She couldn't look at him, only nodding slowly in response, holding his hand gently.
He'd always been sorry before, for this and that, and inwardly at least for not being good enough - she'd known that was what he felt to be true. He didn't see his heroic actions as that, only zoning in on what and who he failed.
And now, he said it less, but at the start... he'd said it over and over, until they'd had to sedate him.
"I'm sorry, really... I am." he said again, as if nothing could clear his conscience.
She knew; she nodded and, breaking her contact with him completely, she left. Knowing full well it'd be the same tomorrow and the day after until finally maybe it would sink in and he'd be just as fine as everyone was pretending he was, instead of this apparition with his haunting words.