"Sinners and Saints"
Show: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen/Angst
Pairing: Shep/Teyla friendship
Rating: K+
Summary: AU – The Siege didn't go as well as they had hoped. Forced to evacuate to Athos after the destruction of Atlantis along with the other survivors, Sheppard is taking the loss as a personal failure.
Disclaimer: I own nothing aside from my goldfish and textbooks.
Author's Note: I'm finally getting around to catching up on posting a bunch of fanfic from my LJ account, so some of you may have read this before...
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More than once over the past four days John had mentally called up the image of the Alamo, which Rodney had been gracious enough to mention during their briefing right before the siege. It had been a simple Rodney-ism then – something funny and whiny and amusing.
Frightening how apropos that comparison had become in the previous days.
The plan had been a decent one at the time. Giving up Atlantis was a last-ditch option, and when Colonel Everett had come through the gate with a plan – with hope – they'd leapt at the chance to defend the base. Holding down the station for four days hadn't seemed like an impossible task, but it became a matter of simple logistics; they were outnumbered and outclassed, even with the supporting troops and new rail guns. The situation went from bad to worse to disastrous, and they were finally forced to throw in the towel.
A few pressed buttons, a few entered codes, and the self-destruct was enabled. Considering how much planning and research and time had been spent getting to Atlantis, it was sobering how quickly the city had been destroyed.
John eased himself off of the boulder on which he was sitting, stretching briefly before beginning his slow walk back through the woods to their camp site. Time to himself had proven rare over the past few days, and even though Elizabeth forced him to take breaks from the busy work he found to do, he didn't like staying away for any extended periods of time.
The alpha site had been furnished to the best of their ability given the short amount of preparation time, but nothing would ever be as comfortable as Atlantis. Deciding what to take and what to leave had been a nightmare given the unique and priceless quality of most of the bits and pieces of the station. Still, they'd managed to save quite a bit – a few puddlejumpers, lifesign detectors, and a chunk of the Ancient database included.
The choice of the site itself had been another issue, at least for John. Several of their very limited options hadn't panned out, and, strapped for a final choice, they'd settled for the planet of Athos. The Wraith believed the planet to be abandoned, so it was as safe a hiding place as any they were likely to find. The charred, destroyed remnants of Teyla's old village remained from their disastrous encounter with the Wraith nearly a year ago, and the expedition members had been sensitive and thoughtful enough to not construct base camp within a short distance of the ruins.
Being on Athos was just another reminder of his mistakes, his waking of the Wraith, his failed leadership in Atlantis, the people he had lost, and the ones who still might not make it back home.
The attack, failed stand, and retreat was just the final capper in a long, long list of his errors, many of them fatal and most of them glaring.
They'd lost Ford in the attack, which made what happened even more jarring. Though all of the losses were personal, that one stung more than the rest, maybe because he was young, maybe because he was a friend. He'd died alone, afraid, and in pain, and even though losing someone at the hands of the Wraith never got easier, Ford's death seemed even more of a waste.
Their resistance had failed, and Atlantis was gone. His death had meant nothing, had saved no one.
As the brush and forest cleared, John couldn't help but wince at the sight of their makeshift camp. The loss had become too personal, and as a military man, he knew that such a lack of detachment from their situation was unhealthy and unproductive. Somehow, intrinsically knowing that didn't translate into actually being able to do it.
He could see Beckett walking back and forth between the medical tents some distance away, and he felt another painful jolt of guilt. Among the other two dozen wounded Athosians and military personnel, John knew that Teyla was still in there.
It was wrong to be so selfish and to care more for one's teammates simply because they were friends, but having lost one of his team and coming very, very close to losing another was only compounding the total loss of Atlantis.
Ford had been fed upon, a slow, agonizing death if there ever was one. Teyla had avoided that fate, barely, and at a bloody price. One of the other strike teams had found her at the base of one of the piers with the Wraith she had killed lying beside her. Sheppard hadn't even known she was injured until they'd been ready to start the self-destruct sequence, and he'd gone to the infirmary to help move equipment and patients. Upon seeing his frozen expression, Carson had, of course, filled him in on her condition – fractured wrist and dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, three broken ribs, concussion, and internal ruptures and bleeding that had only been stopped with nearly two hours of surgery.
He'd helped carry her stretcher through the gate and hadn't been back to see her since. It was easy to convince himself that he was too busy to visit, and he'd managed to always delegate check-ins with Carson to somebody else.
She was one of the people that he least looked forward to seeing at this point. In many ways, she embodied so many of his mistakes and so much of the trust and respect he had lost. It was easier to avoid than to acknowledge, to forget than to face her, and John quickly set his sights on the central complex where Elizabeth undoubtedly had things to discuss with him.
Distractions were all he had left.
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"According to Rodney it'll take the Daedalus at least three more days to get here, and that's assuming that the distress call actually reached Earth before the gate shut down." Elizabeth pushed a cup of watered-down coffee across the table to Sheppard before pulling over another notepad from the cluttered stack.
Sipping at the coffee, he grimaced and set the cup aside. "If Rodney says it'll take that long, it's a good estimate. There's plenty here to last us for weeks, and the Athosians lived here for years before – if we get desperate, I'm sure they know where to find food and water."
"Actually, they've already started going out on their own in scouting parties," she said.
"Guess they're settling in for the long haul."
Nodding, she acknowledged, "Maybe, but from what Halling told me they aren't quite sure what they plan to do. I doubt they'll want to come back to Earth with us, abandon their home for a second time."
"Oh, I don't know. Sure, it's a big move, but the idea of living in a galaxy without Wraith might not be so bad, and some of them have gotten pretty friendly with the team," he noted. "If they can't find a good place to stay in Pegasus, Earth won't be such a bad option. Plus, Beckett's still got Athosian patients to take care of, and it'll be easier to get them all cleaned up somewhere else."
Elizabeth sat back, considering that. "That's true. Still, it's a decision that's going to have to be made sooner rather than later. Have you spoken with Teyla about it?"
Sheppard flicked his eyes up to hers, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Haven't quite gotten around to talking with her about it." It wasn't exactly a lie. He hadn't talked to her…about much of anything.
Whether she picked up on exactly how little conversation he had had with Teyla since the siege, he couldn't tell. She gave him a vaguely sympathetic smile. "Next time you see her, maybe you could ask. I know she's hardly acting out all of her responsibilities given her condition, but she might have an idea as to their intentions."
"I'll find out," he managed, forcing down another sip of coffee before changing the subject to the depleted weapons inventory.
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Days on Athos were short, and the nights were chilly, so John had taken to spending most of the long evenings holed up with his laptop and a cup of tea, slowly adding to his mission report on the Atlantis siege and destruction. Most of the rest of the expedition seemed to purposely seek out their companions for company, gathering around tables and packing some of the buildings end to end as they shared stories and paid tribute to fallen comrades. This made it relatively easy to find an unoccupied corner of the complex where he could write undisturbed and without conversation.
Punching out a few more words, he jumped when the door to the room banged open. When he glanced up he was greeted by a rather startled Rodney who was making an effort to close the door with much less noise than he entered.
"Sorry, I was just…um, looking for you," he finished lamely.
"Well, you found me. Need something?" Sheppard asked, returning his gaze to the screen.
"I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check up on how your report was coming. Elizabeth said you might be working late, so I figured a pop-in visit couldn't hurt."
John was enjoying watching Rodney fidget. Usually the scientist had confidence coming out of his ears, but tonight he seemed oddly off, almost nervous. "Uh huh. You know, it'd be a lot easier to just say you missed me," he teased.
Rodney gaped for only a moment before finally managing in his normal irritated tone, "No, really! I'd think that having someone who actually knows how the self-destruct mechanism works and explain the exact energy needs of Atlantis' shield look over your report would be helpful, but then again, I could be giving you way more credit than you're due."
"Have a seat," he gestured with a smile.
"Thanks. Do you have any food?" he asked, earning himself a disbelieving stare from Sheppard. "What? I haven't eaten anything in nearly two hours, and you know what could happen if my blood sugar level drops!"
John dug through his vest until coming up with a smushed PowerBar, which he tossed to Rodney. He turned back to his writing, the crackling sound of the wrapper being opened sounding tinny in the small space.
The silence wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but something was bothering John about his friend's supposedly random visit. "How'd you find me?" he asked.
A glance up at Rodney showed more blatant, uncharacteristic nervousness. "Well, that's…yeah, that's a fair question. The thing is –"
"Because nobody knew I was here…unless Elizabeth –"
"Yes, that's it exactly. Elizabeth told me where to find you during dinner," Rodney interrupted.
"Mmhmm. That's funny, because Elizabeth doesn't know where I am. She never asked where I would be, and I never told her," John answered, giving the scientist a pointed look. He clearly wanted an explanation sooner rather than later.
Knowing he was caught in a lie, Rodney's face instantly went dusky pink. "Okay, fine, I looked for you. Is that such a big deal? A guy can't look for his friends to talk a few days after what was likely the most traumatic event of his life?"
"So now you want to talk?" Sheppard asked, mildly amused. "You've never felt the need to ask permission before."
"That's not what I meant!"
"Well, whenever you do decide what you meant, give me a buzz, okay? I've got a report to finish," John said, turning back to his laptop.
"Will you just quit it with the jokes!" Rodney suddenly shouted, as angry and frustrated as he'd ever sounded. At John's shocked expression he fumbled for only a few more seconds before managing, "It's about Teyla."
John could feel himself immediately shut down, his expression dimming to one of indifference and passivity, but he hardly cared. "What?"
"Have you been to see her once since we've been here? Have you even talked to Beckett about how she's doing?" Rodney was reddening, but he pressed on despite the glare he was receiving. "From what I've heard, the answer to both of those is 'no', but for once I wouldn't mind being told that I'm wrong."
"That's none of your business, Rodney," Sheppard said in a soft, dangerous voice.
"She's my friend!" He cut in sharply. "She needs all of us right now, and you're not doing your part. You're not being fair to her, and you're not being fair to me either. I never know what to say when she asks about you –"
"Then don't say anything! This is my decision, Rodney, and you don't need to be sticking your nose in it."
"I don't have a choice anymore! It's your fault that I have to say this at all, and I'm not going to act as the go-between for you when you're perfectly capable of talking to her on your own," he shot back, his voice quickly rising.
It's your fault. Something inside Sheppard twinged painfully at the words, and he slammed his computer shut as he pushed away from the table. "She doesn't need to see me. You and Halling and the others are enough, so stop trying to make excuses for me, and let me make decisions on my own without being hounded. And now that I think about it, since when did you start being such an expert on how other people feel?"
Rodney was silent for a moment, his expression stunned and hurt. "It's Teyla," he whispered. "You can't just…"
"What am I supposed to say? What? It's my fault she's in there, and I have nothing to say to her that's going to make it any better."
For a split second Rodney's face clouded in confusion before his expression cleared, a modicum of understanding showing in his eyes. "That's what this is about? Some kind of guilt complex? Look, what happened to Atlantis wasn't your fault…neither was Teyla getting hurt or Ford dying. It just happened, and we all had a part in it." At Sheppard's brooding silence, he tentatively continued, "If you just talked to her, maybe –"
"Don't. Don't try to analyze me." John swept his laptop under his arm and made for the door with hardly a backwards glance at his friend.
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Even without the heaviness of the conversation with Rodney weighing in, the next day proved to be just as long and difficult as the ones before. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Elizabeth seemed a bit distant and standoffish during their morning coffee and check-up, though he reminded himself that the stress and trauma of their situation was a likely cause. Still no definitive answer from the Athosians regarding their intentions for a future home, and John was starting to worry about how long he could stall before having to ask them directly.
He passed the medical tents again on his way to a meeting with the rest of the former off-world team leaders and caught a glimpse of Rodney ducking into one of them. Clenching his jaw, he continued across the complex, refusing to look back.
His first free moments came sometime in the late afternoon, and when he ran out of useless errands and tasks to busy himself, he reluctantly set off down the familiar path through the woods. Taking time out for himself was difficult given his current overwhelming need to feel useful, but this way he could honestly tell Elizabeth that he'd taken a break when she inevitably asked that evening.
Finding the same familiar boulder in the woods, he stiffly lowered himself onto the edge with a groan, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. He absently picked up one of the twigs nearby, slowly peeling off the bark and flaking the wood in his hands. It was the only time during the day he allowed himself to think of nothing at all, losing himself in the sounds of the forest and the faded, creamy quality of the light filtering through the leaves.
John had no idea how long he'd been sitting there when he first noticed a quiet shuffling sound coming along the path. Brushing the bits of bark and twig from his lap he glanced over his shoulder, peering through the trees in the direction of the noise.
The last thing he expected to see was Teyla.
She was walking along the path on crutches, neatly angling around the roots and debris on the forest floor with hardly a wobble. She had yet to notice or acknowledge him, but the fact that her eyes barely shifted up to greet him when he slid off the rock gave him the feeling she had known he was there all along.
Walking quickly down the path to meet her, John felt inexplicably nervous when she finally met his gaze. "Need a hand?" he asked tentatively.
"I will be fine," she assured him with a brief smile. As she continued toward the boulder, John walked slowly beside her, one hand hovering near her elbow to catch her if she slipped. It proved unnecessary, and she perched awkwardly on one edge of the rock with a sigh, her crutches propped up beside her.
Taking a seat next to her, John allowed himself to sneak a few sideways glances. Her wrist was encased in a bright blue cast, and her ankle was similarly wrapped in tape and gauze. Her complexion was noticeably paler than usual, dark, purpling bruises and swollen patches standing out lividly despite the faded light. Casting another furtive glance in her direction he saw she had her face upturned toward the forest canopy, eyes closed as though sleeping.
"Teyla? You okay?" he asked.
She looked toward him with a smile that was likely meant to be reassuring. "I am fine. It has been many days since I have seen the sky. Many more since I have seen it on Athos."
Nodding, he found he couldn't think of what to say. It was the first time that silence between them seemed awkward and out of place. He didn't like it.
"So, um…Beckett let you go? From the way he was talking he wasn't going to let you out of his sight for a while."
The same half-smile crossed her face, the one that didn't make him feel any easier upon having seen it. "Dr. Beckett tends to worry. He allowed me to leave the medical center temporarily, but he does not know where I am. I believed it would be easier to have him angry at me upon returning than to try to convince him to let me go."
"Teyla, are you sure that's safe? You just had major surgery a few days ago, and if anything happens –"
"I seem to recall that on several occasions you found it difficult to stay in the infirmary despite Dr. Beckett's suggestions. Or perhaps I am thinking of someone else," she said thinly.
John couldn't help but smile. "I guess that's fair. Just think I'd feel better if the doc knew where you were, is all."
"I told Dr. McKay where I was going. He promised to…distract Dr. Beckett until I returned," she told him.
At the mention of Rodney, John felt himself involuntarily tense, the memory of their argument still painfully fresh in his mind. "Um, Teyla? I don't know if it means anything, but I might as well apologize for being such a jerk over the last few days." At her questioning expression, he stumbled on. "I haven't been to see you, even though –"
"Dr. McKay told me that you had spoken," she interrupted. "He was concerned about you, about how you were coping with the loss of Atlantis."
The familiar sense of shutting down returned, and John could literally feel compartments in his mind slamming shut, sealing in the emotion and the pain. "I'm fine. I'm hardly the one who's the worst off after the attack. We lost people. Good people. You nearly died, and Ford…" He suddenly found he couldn't finish, and as he looked off into the forest, he was painfully aware of the uncompleted thread of conversation.
He could feel Teyla tensing next to him, knew she was deciding what to say to that. She wouldn't leave what he said dangling – it was uncomfortable and unfinished, and Teyla was not partial to either.
"Aiden…it is not a reason to punish yourself," she said softly. "Blaming yourself for what happened will not give his death any sort of purpose."
Something inside jerked and hitched painfully, raw and rusty. "Nothing I did made any difference. I was in charge! He was under my command, just like everyone else who died. I didn't do enough when Everett came through. I knew the situation better than he did, I had a better idea of the enemy strength than he did, and I let it happen."
"That does not mean –"
"It was my mistake, Teyla. A lot of things went wrong, and a lot of people didn't make it out because I didn't make the right call. Period. Ford died. Everett died. That Wraith nearly killed you, and I'm the one who has to live with that."
When he finally looked over at Teyla her expression was stony. "Is that why you would not speak to me?" His involuntary grimace gave him away, and as her expression softened he saw something blink on in her eyes that he recognized immediately – understanding.
"It is not your place to feel guilt. The loss of Atlantis was difficult for us all for different reasons, and taking that loss solely as your own is unwarranted." She placed a hand lightly on his forearm. "The loss of the city was no more your fault than my people's loss of Athos was mine."
John looked up at that, feeling someone else's pain more clearly than his own for the first time in days. "You never –"
"I had my own troubles when we came to Atlantis," she said hollowly, rubbing a tired hand over her cheek. "There were numerous moments when I blamed myself for the loss of our world, for the deaths of so many. Misplaced doubt and grief are the burdens of a leader, but there is no reason to dwell or bear them alone when you have the company of friends and loved ones."
He saw so much of himself reflected in Teyla's eyes – a deep, aching hurt stoked by guilt and endless reflection and a bitter struggle to hide it from view. As much as she intended her words to reassure him, he still desperately needed to hear something else from her. "Teyla, I just wanted –"
"I will not forgive you, John," she finished, immediately knowing what he was going to ask. "You have no reason to ask me, and it is not my place to offer it. I do not blame you for the attack, nor does anyone among your people or mine – forgiveness can only come from you."
John felt a tense, hard knot inside of him suddenly begin to loosen. Teyla's words weren't exactly what he wanted, but it was as much as she was willing to give. He thought that it might be enough. It would take time, but he hoped he might reach the point when he could look back on Atlantis without regret or pain.
"Thanks, Teyla," he whispered with a smile, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers for a moment.
"Time heals, more than you would expect," she told him, pulling away to look him in the eyes.
He nodded, leaning back on the rock and casting his gaze up at the patches of sky through the trees. Almost as soon as silence fell between them, however, it was interrupted by the sound of someone clomping down the path toward their resting place.
"Teyla? Teyla, you didn't fall and break your other arm did you? I think Carson would quite literally kill me if that were the case." John pushed himself up with a sigh, catching Teyla rolling her eyes at Rodney's hollers.
"We are here, Dr. McKay," she called back.
"What? Who's 'we'? And – for God's sakes! – couldn't you have chosen somewhere a little closer to home to meditate?" Rodney suddenly appeared at the bend in the path, stopping immediately upon seeing the two of them sitting on the rock. "Oh."
"Major Sheppard was keeping me company – you needn't have worried. Will you join us for a moment?" Teyla asked, giving him the gracious smile against which none of the team had any defenses.
Rodney looked torn for only a moment before making his way down the path, awkwardly squeezing onto the rock next to Teyla. "So, um…you guys okay?"
It was a layered question, and Teyla glanced at John with an encouraging nod. "Yeah, we're good, Rodney. Just talking is all."
McKay's eyes flitted between the pair for several seconds before obvious relief flooded his features. "Well, that's good. That's…yeah, good. I actually came to find Teyla – Carson's looking for you."
"I hope I did not worry him too much," she said with a knowing smile.
"Well, considering he told me something along the lines of 'get her back here right now or you're liable to find some rather undesirable medical samples mixed in with your next meal' I don't think he was that happy," Rodney answered with his usual caustic manner.
"I am certain that you did the best you could," Teyla said, giving his arm an affectionate pat before shakily standing with her crutches. "Perhaps we should return before he comes looking for us himself."
John stood, his joints popping as he stretched. As Teyla readjusted her grip on the crutches, he managed to catch Rodney's eye over her shoulder. He gave the scientist a nod and a smile, hoping that he'd get the message – verbal apologies weren't his strong suit, and accepting them would be just as difficult for his friend.
Rodney gave him a quick smile of acknowledgement before turning his attention to Teyla, who was already making her way up the path.
"Teyla, for crying out loud, this is ridiculous – be careful you don't rip your stitches! Amazonian doesn't even begin to do you justice!" Rodney yelled, picking his way around the muddy patches on the path in an almost dainty manner as he caught up to her.
John watched them walk ahead for a few seconds before following with a sigh. It wasn't perfect, and he had no idea if it ever would be, but it was better. He had a lot to work through, a lot of things to resolve with himself before he'd be ready to move on.
Forgiveness still might not be possible, but for the first time in days he no longer dreaded what it might take to get there.