Disclaimer : I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of its character or plots. I mean no infringement, this is for personal benefit only.
Author's notes: - This is my first completed story so I hope you enjoy. I always wanted more back story on John, so I made my own.
-Music is such a creative outlet for me, I hear a song and a story unfolds before me.
-inspired by the song - Starting to Turn by Andrew Paul Woodworth
-I have to thank ladygris for her help in getting this out of my notebook. I also have to thank my Ace.
~O~
The phone on her desk rang; she hastily answered. "Nancy Sheppard… Hello?"
"It's me."
"John! Your back!"
"I'm at the house. Think you could come home for lunch?" His tone stayed steady and unemotional.
"I'm really swamped. I'll see about getting off early for dinner?" She was preoccupied and offended that he would make such a request.
"We need to talk." This time, his tone was no longer a request, but an order.
"I'll be there within the hour. " She hung up the phone as a chill ran through her. Something's wrong.
oOOo
She drove home in silence. Her thoughts were so loud in her head. This was about the baby. Before he left on his last assignment almost two weeks ago, she dropped a bomb at dinner.
"I know we have not really talked about this, John, and I think that it will never be a right time for you. But I am ready. John, your father and our friends are all asking. I think we should starting trying for a baby, I am doing well at work. . . ."
John just dropped his fork on his plate and left the table. Nancy sat alone till the candle light flickered out.
oOOo
John's sat on the bed looking at the photos on the dresser. He felt like a stranger in his own home.
Nancy heels click down the hallway as he heard her drop her purse and keys in the front hall.
"John….John…. here you are. " She peeked into the bedroom
John noticed her as she removes her suit jacket. Her hair pulled neatly behind her in a low ponytail, her crisp white shirt and tailored grey skirt. She wore several long gold chains around her neck with matching earrings and black leather pumps, which she kicked into the closet, and sat down on the bed next to him, the subtle hint of jasmine tinting the air.
"Hey. . . ." She put her hand on his arm. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Her voice quivered a bit.
He crossed the room to stand by the window, putting some space between them. He fought to find the words that he'd been practicing, but they were just beyond his grasp now. "You know I love you?"
Nancy nodded. Was he really asking her this? She knew he was upset about the baby question. He left the next morning while she was at work with the usual note. Be back soon. But this look on his face was different and very unfamiliar. She knew all his looks: distance, the one she had seen the most recently, rejection when she spoke with his Dad or Dave on the phone, purpose when the phone rang for him to leave on a mission. But she missed happiness the most.
"I think it time we are honest with one another." He leaned into the window with his arm above his head bracing him against the wall. "This is not working for us." He let out a deep breath. "I know you're not happy. I know I have not been around a lot lately, and that's my fault. But, when I am here, you're usually too busy with work. So, I got a place at the barracks temporarily for now."
"What?" She tried to stay calm. She'd known this was coming for a long time. They both did. But she knew if she yelled, he'd leave, and nothing would be said. Her questions would go unanswered. She took a deep breath and walked over to the window. She knew John, she knew him inside and out, more than anyone else. She knew this man that punished himself constantly for his past, present and future. She rubbed his arm gently "How long have you been back?"
"Three days."
Nancy went back over to the bed and sat down, feeling weak in the knees. Her eyes caught sight of his bag packed in the corner and the dresser drawers slightly open and now empty. This was it. He was leaving, and she would have to make the best of their last moments together to find herself some closure. "Remember our wedding night. . . . When you took me out to the gazebo under all the twinkling lights. . . ." She smiled looking for some reaction from John "I think you were happy. I was happy. . . ." Tears welled in her eyes, but only one slipped down her cheek. "Could you tell me: were you ever happy? Were the past three years all bad?"
John sat back down next to her on the bed with his head down and holding her hand in his. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small shell from his pocket.
"Is that the sand dollar from our honeymoon?" She sniffed looking at the dove shaped shell "You still have it?"
. . . . John ran ahead of Nancy on the lone deserted strip of beach on Kauai. She stopped to pick up a sand dollar as John came crashing back into her, wrapping his arms around her and brushing his lips on her neck. She dropped the shell, and five doves-shaped shells fell out.
"Oh no! That was the only one I found today that was whole," she pouted.
"Can I tell you a story?" John sat down on the sand, cradling Nancy in his arms as he told her the poem his mom told him when vacationing at Myrtle Beach as a boy.
"That is so beautiful." Nancy smiled, turning to kiss him as he placed one of the white dove-shaped shells in her hand.
John carefully placed the dove in Nancy's hand. "I do love you, and no, it was not all bad. I just feel that you wanting a baby is not going to fix this. " He motioned his hand between them. "Us. It's me. I'm broken. I know you want all of me, but there are parts of me that are wounded and damaged from what I've seen and done. I'm not whole anymore, and a baby is only a piece of me. You deserve more, so much more, a family that I can't give you."
Now the tears spilled into soft sobs as Nancy leaned into John. She knew he was right. He did love her. He loved her enough to let her go.
John got up and crossed the room, picked up his bag, kissed Nancy on the forehead and turned away, leaving her sitting on the bed as his footsteps carried him down the hall and out the door for the last time.
~fin