It's the same dream he always has. The children are playing in the clearing of New Athos, Halling is to his right discussing the recent harvest with Teyla. Rodney is to Sheppard's left, slightly in front as he tweaks their latest gadget, something Sheppard has deemed a "Wraith Finder". All is pleasant, the air is lightly scented with the perfume of Teyla's favorite flower, he plucks a bloom to pass to her. Then Rodney is staring into the sky, screaming something unintelligible. For some reason, the words are lost in the ten feet separating them. Rodney points, and Sheppard knows what he will see before he turns around. Three wraith darts drop from the clouds, he hears their distinctive whine clearly. And Rodney is still silent. Teyla refuses to look as Sheppard runs for Torren, his heart racing. If he gets to his son, the boy won't be taken.
It's always the same, Torren is snatched away from him even as his hands close on the boy. Jerking awake, Sheppard is at Torren's bedside in under fifteen seconds and touching the sleeping child's chest, listening to the air move in and out until he is assured everything is well with his son. If he is honest with himself, he realizes that the five year old will one day follow in his footsteps. Until that day however, Sheppard will fight the monsters that threaten them all.
He is shaking uncontrollably as he pours a glass of scotch and downs it. Downs another. Pours a third and clips his earpiece in, listening to the mundane chatter for several moments before tuning in. "Sheppard here. Security teams one through nine report in."
"Lorne here, sir. Everything quiet on the East Pier."
"Gallagher. Everything copasetic."
"Munz, I have reports of high winds, but nothing out of the ordinary."
The reports assure him that nothing is coming to destroy them tonight. He doesn't care that they think it strange he asks for security reports at least three times a night. They all know he sleeps fitfully after the last culling on New Athos. Losing three members of the science team has shaken him to the core. He clings to Torren and Teyla if they make a trip offworld.
They're all he has left, really. Ronon and Jennifer are out there, somewhere, in the Milky Way Galaxy. The gate was bombed, preventing them from returning, stranding them on Earth. The Daedulus can't be taken away from Earth just to ferry the Atlantis Expedition home, so, they are stuck there. And Sheppard wouldn't change a thing.
Except, of course, having Jen and Ronon back. And maybe losing Woolsey. And the nightmares. Finding a safe place to hole up in, lock himself and his family in there until the Wraith are gone for good. That would be what he wants to do, what he dreams of doing. And yet, he knows that if he does that, he will lose her. He will lose Teyla, Torren, and the little one she carries. Lose them all. So, as always with the nightmares, he banishes them with the ever dwindling supply of alcohol he tries to hide from Rodney and Beckett. Because one day, one day very soon, Ronon will be back. And Woolsey will be gone. And Jen will be beaming her smile at him as he tries to escape from the infirmary.
Until that day, however, he will have to pretend that he is happy, that he is excited over being a father a second time around. He is, in fact. Just wishes that their baby will be born in safety, and not at the mouth of a Wraith den. If he could protect them all, he would.
Teyla touches his arm, has to peel him off the ceiling as she always does after the time when the nightmares come. She can smell the alcohol, but knows he has kept to his five drink limit. One day, he will drink a sixth. His limit used to be two.
She sees the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the hunger for his home that eats at her until she can't bear it. She knows that his wish is to hide them all away on another planet, but won't let himself run. Carefully, so as not to frighten him, she wraps him in her arms and just holds him, letting her presence heal him. He takes the comfort for only a few heartbeats, before stepping back reluctantly. In truth, he hasn't touched her for more than a few seconds since the night before the attack. The night their daughter was conceived.
He knows that their love didn't bring the Wraith down on them. Their mutual respect and admiration of one another's intelligence.
But he still can't shake the feeling that they have the worst luck ever. Murphy's Law? Hell, he wished he could live under Murphy's Law, rather than the fear of Wraith presence and attack.
And in some dim, animal corner of his mind, where only instinct remains, he believes he can't touch her or bad things will happen.
Some nights, she wishes he wasn't as strong as she tries to be.