Title: Battle
Summary: He wanted to talk to her, he really did. But if that meant having to stay in the same room with her for more than ten seconds, he didn't think it would be happening any time soon.
Characters: John, Ronon, Teyla
Pairing: John/Teyla, Teyla/Kanan.
Rating: K
Spoilers: Missing, Doppelganger, Seer

"You can't avoid her forever, you know."

John grunted as he dodged a blow from Ronon's staves, ducking under the taller man's arm and pivoting, before blocking another and attacking with his left arm. Ronon easily caught it and forced him back.

John grunted and shoved back hard, only managing to slightly off-balance the bigger man and snuck away from him. There was a loud clack as the two wooden staves broke against one another. John winced as the sensation vibrated up his weaker arm. He pulled back as Ronon landed a blow on his shoulder, marginally lighter than it would have been had he not moved.

"And you can't avoid talking about it forever, either."

John glowered up at him from under his arm that was currently reaching up so his fingers could rub the sweat off his brow. He'd been sparring alone for an hour or so before he'd been joined by Ronon. Since then, the least of his worries had been what had been plaguing his mind; Ronon wasn't exactly gentle at the best of times, never mind when he was more than a little pissed off with John.

"I don't know what you're talking about," John retorted and swiped at the back of his neck with a towel he'd picked up from the floor.

Ronon simply dropped his hands to his side and stared at John with an amused expression on his face. His eyebrows were almost as high as his hairline and John knew the look far too well.

"I'm talking about Teyla. And her being pregnant."

John winced at the word and he saw Ronon's smirk widen. He rolled his eyes and assumed his sparring position.

"Let's just do this, okay?"

Ronon nodded and advanced towards John, his eyes stern as he watched his opponent's body shifting, hoping to find a fissure in his posture, in his defence. John knew the look, had seen it many times and quickly tightened up his position. He studied Ronon, could see the strength the Satedan had in his upper arms – hell even in his forearms – and he was reminded of the life his friend had lived before they'd rescued him.

"She cried when you walked away."

John paused and his staves dropped slightly, but it was enough. Ronon attacked and John was powerless to stop the blow to his head. He blinked furiously, staring at the wall, his side hurting from falling on the ground so forcefully. His hand flew to his head and he pulled it away, seeing blood on his fingers, felt it drip down his temple.

"Dammit, Ronon!"

He held his hand out for Ronon to yank him but he was greeted with empty air. He looked around groggily for his team mate and saw him leaning against the opposite wall, a glare in his eyes, his lips a tiny thin line. John glowered at him and dropped down onto his back, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes. He sighed heavily and scrubbed at his face.

He knew he had to talk to Teyla, he just didn't know how to. Whenever he saw her he felt this unnameable tug in his gut – in his chest – and his legs forced him in the opposite direction. He knew he was hurting her but he was hurting too.

He'd never admit it aloud but he was.

The thought of her with... him;he couldn't even bring himself to say his name.

He supposed in a sense, he really had no reason to grouch about it – he'd had Chaya... and he'd never dissuaded her about the other women, just let her believe what she wanted. Oh how he wished now that he hadn't. Maybe then she wouldn't have gone to Kanoe.

Or maybe she would.

And that's what scared him the most; that everything he'd thought he'd felt from her could have been false, that he might have been imagining it. He didn't think he'd be able to handle it. The moments they'd spent together over the past year had brought them closer and for him it was a matter of when and not if. But maybe it wasn't for her. Maybe it was something that she'd used to entertain herself. Or maybe she was just too nice to let him down.

"She's your friend. She needs all the support she can get. Her people are missing and you're in here sulking like a little boy." John scrunched his eyes up and glared at Ronon again through the thin gaps of his fingers. "Talk to her. She needs you."

And with that he was gone.

He didn't know how long he lay there but when he next sat up, she was standing in the doorway, concern marring her beautiful features. He jumped up and stared at her, his mouth moving in an imitation of speech. Then he felt it. The tug. He glanced away and grabbed his things, dropping his staves in his rush.

"John..." He felt her hand on his forearm and he jumped away from her, ignoring the burning sensation of where her skin had met his. His eyes flew to hers and he saw the sheen of tears there. He wanted to apologise, to tell her he'd be there for her.

But then his eyes dropped to her slightly protruding belly and his feet carried him out of the room without consulting the rest of his body. He stopped in the corridor and sunk against the wall, his hands coming up to his face again. He doubled over and sucked in a deep breath.

He wanted to talk to her, he really did.

But that was only half the battle. Staying in the same room with her for more than ten seconds was the rest.