Title: Burden
Summary: There was only so much a man could take and John Sheppard was finding it difficult to breathe.
Characters: John, Teyla
Pairing: John/Teyla, John/Nancy, Teyla/Kanan.
Rating: K+ for a wee swear word
Spoilers: Missing, Outcast
John closed the piece of paper in his hand, scrunching it up into a tiny ball. There was really only so much a man could take and he was sure he'd by now had his fill. There really was only so much the universe could throw at him in the space of a year and he was pretty damn certain he'd caught most of it without dropping a single thing. He'd kept his composure but now he felt like he was going to bend so far backwards under the weight on his shoulders that he might actually snap in two.
He felt his chest constricting and quenched the unwanted and unwelcome desire for a large bottle of whisky – it would do no one any good for him to fall onto a path he'd so painstakingly gouged himself out of years before.
But God, it felt like it would be so easy, so much better for him to just open up his favourite malt and take a few swigs. He was glad he hadn't brought any to Atlantis with him.
He punched the wall instead. He winced slightly when he looked at his knuckles and saw bubbles of blood. It didn't hurt though. He pounded the wall again and winced when he felt something crack.
He flopped backwards onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. He could feel his eyes well up with something akin to tears but he did not allow them to fall. He couldn't. He had no right to think that any of these people wanted or needed tears from him.
He unclenched his fist and brought out the single piece of paper. He re-read the too few lines, closed his eyes and shook his head, breathing heavily through his nostrils. He launched it childishly across the room.
He had no right to be jealous. He'd lost claims on her years before when he'd got up and left her but that didn't mean it was any less difficult for him to hear that she was getting married to another man. He'd always thought she'd be there for him if he ever wanted her back. It was such an unfair way to think of his ex-wife.
He kicked the end of his mattress with the back of his heel. He got no pleasure from it.
Only she could hit him with a double whammy in the space of three or four sentences. He could hear the silent plea in her words: for him to come and for him to stay away. But how could he not go to his father's funeral? True, he hadn't spoken to him for years but that didn't lessen the fact that he was family, he was his blood... and he was dead. He hitched a shaky breath at that.
Damn, Nancy.
The universe was being entirely unfair to him. He was being hit with far more than he deserved. All he had ever done in his life was be a good little Christian. He didn't deserve to be treated like this by his so-called God. It was why, after Afghanistan, he'd abandoned his God like He'd abandoned him.
In the past year, he'd lost not one but three best friends; two of which there was no possibility of return. Carson, who'd been taken so brutally, so instantly that it still felt like a part of his heart had been ripped out. He was one of John's best friends, even though they'd spent less time together before the end. John had blamed Rodney – though he'd never, ever tell him that – for not going fishing with the good doctor but he'd come to realise that all things happen for a reason.
It didn't make it any easier when Elizabeth had been taken by the Replicators. Their leader and their friend was gone. The expedition seemed to have forgotten that she had ever really existed – no real rescue mission had been mobilised and John admitted that he had been part of the ones to not quite forget, but not make a point of remembering.
And Teyla… He didn't want to think about why he'd lost her.
"I am with child."
He shuddered. He really had no reason to be jealous because he'd never let her in on just how deep his feelings ran for the Athosian; hell, he'd gone and fucked quite a number of alien women and not given any regard for her feelings.
Still, he'd rather she did that than find someone she cared about. That's what hurt him the most. It wasn't that she was sleeping with someone – okay, so maybe it was – but that she actually cared for the guy. He'd never cared for any of the women he'd been with. And now she was pregnant.
And her people – the father of her child – were gone.
He'd been less than there for her. He'd avoided her, actually, ever since she'd told him of her 'joyous' news. But he just couldn't bear to be near her, knowing that she was thinking of another. They'd never asked for either to wait… but John had given up his manly ways since their 'moments' alone began to mean more to him than anything in the world.
He'd thought they'd meant something to her too.
He should have just told her how he felt then he wouldn't be feeling any of these things he was now.
He sighed and sat up. He looked to his hand and saw that blood was dripping from his fingers onto the floor beside his bed. He shook his head again and closed his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fist. Now it hurt.
After he'd visited the infirmary, grunted any answer he had to the poor nurse who'd been charged to take care of him, he made his way to the mess hall. His stomach had growled at him since he left his room. A marine jostled him as he picked up a sandwich and he smiled before turning to where he'd seen Ronon standing when he'd entered.
His step faltered slightly. There she was. He felt his heart ache at the sight of her in all her pregnant glory and he lowered his eyes from where they'd met hers.
It hurt so much.
As he approached the table, she stood and brushed past him without glancing his way. His head followed her instinctively but he kept his eyes firmly off her form.
There was only so much a man could take and John Sheppard was finding it difficult to breathe.