An answer to Camy's challenge on GW "Write a letter regarding JT from anyone's point of view".

My thank to Camy, and Steph also known as Love Conquers, for betaing it for me. And all those on Gateworld who offered up some encouragement.

Spoilers - Season 3, Sunday.

Return to Sender

It was not only the events of the last week that found Colonel Sheppard sitting behind his desk pen in hand, regret dominating his mind. Though returning to Earth with Carson's body, witnessing the sorrow in the eyes of his family and friends, and not being able to tell them the half of it, it would seem enough, but no, it was not indeed all. Not for John, not today.

Deeply religious John Sheppard wasn't, though he had a ritual to observe this day.

Dearest Ma,

I have nowhere else to turn, no one, I can turn to, well though that does not change with these words, it is how my life has it.

So much has happened, too much pain and regret, more than I can bear it seems some days, but i must, bear it. If not, all should surely be lost; hope, home, mine and that of people I care more for than they could ever know, and why I do. Dad would have had no time for such thoughts I know; my face keeps to his stoic code, the outside world oblivious.

No that's not true, Teyla is all too aware I think, more than I would like sometimes.

Men and women have died, they shouldn't have, not just soldiers, friends and close ones. Their only concern, the well being of those around them, forever selfless in what they did. Like Carson. Right to his stubborn, dignified, glorious end, I doubt self-preservation was ever on his mind. Waste, WHY?

I could die tomorrow, at the hand of an enemy whose regard for life could make Taliban captivity seem nearly pleasant, can you imagine that. And yet it is none of these things which now haunt my thoughts day after day, when I wake, when I sleep, never has my soul felt so cursed. But I am powerless to prevent it, it can be so very awful, and you would think I'd gladly rid myself of it, however I don't think I can. I don't think I want to.

Why, why why, is it so difficult?

You never reproached me, never openly judged me after "we" separated. Now that's a joke isn't it, separated? Were Julia and I ever truly together?

Oh I know, you warned me, about it all, about her. You said take it slowly; there was no rush, was I sure? You knew the mistake it could be, what it might lead to, but I was so certain I thought, so stubborn, so wrong.

I say all that, and I wouldn't' change any of it. Not if that meant my life taking me away from where I stand today. It can seem a place without hope, the tremendous responsibility and what we face. I sit down and think about it all sometimes, like what I wanted to say to you and now never can and I know, that I surely would have succumbed beaten to the cold harsh existence, alone, if not for her life to warm it.

I would be lost without her, more desolate than I can possibly imagine. I have come as close to the absolute horror of it possible, while hope and life yet remains, it was all I could do to maintain even the remotest semblance of self control.

But how do I tell her? How can I be certain after Julia, well no that is wrong, unfair on Teyla to compare her with….with her. Still I am terrified, fearful that she doesn't feel something for me, more than just something.

The time I spent at dead-end posts at the edge of the world, oh how I lamented my fate, and to think it brought me here, to somewhere I can call home, people I would call family. I would never have dreamed it, not in a lifetime.

From the faith and kindness and compassion she showed when she so easily could have hated me, others would have. Her vision and her judgment; how her friendship alone has enriched my life beyond where I thought possible before.

To take such a risk I have spurned as madness all these years, but to continue on and to walk such a cursed path each day, the images of her near death that constantly haunt him, the thought that I might be powerless to keep her safe, the turmoil I feel within, the questions I should always ask myself otherwise, if only?

What should I do? Is my happiness that important? And what of her, what does Teyla think? Could I forgive myself if a gamble, for love, took this away and was lost to me forever?

Always your loving son,

John

Sitting back in the chair, all of a sudden so very tired, John threw the pen across the room, clattering off a far wall. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, wondering if he achieved anything at all. He also wondered if he was crazy, writing a letter, revealing his worries and fears like this, why only on this, the anniversary of his mother's death, which he tried to forget every other day of the year, did he act so?

Oh Heightmeyer would have a field day, if only she knew, which she never shall.

All of a sudden his self-critique was interrupted by the chime of his door and a concerned voice.

"John, are you there?" Teyla asked tentatively.

John screwed the letter into a ball and threw it in a trash can by his feet with a temper, letting out a short sharp laugh at his own expense.

Fool, you'll have to act sooner or later; speak to her about some of this at least, but not yet, not yet.

Thinking who was at the door and why, some of his worries and problems were silent once more, but some remained, though they he would battle without question for the happiness he might one day reach.

"Er yeah Teyla, hold on one second, be right there."

fin

So, there you have it. It is a rather middle of the road, simple thing, but i hope you got something out of it. Reviews, criticism and any tips gladly welcome.