Title: Silence
Summary: There was a lot of things John Sheppard wanted. And silence wasn't one of them.
Characters: John, Ronon
Pairing: John/Teyla, John/Nancy, Teyla/Kanan.
Rating: K
Spoilers: Missing, Doppelganger

Silence was his only company out on the main balcony.

That and the cool wind that wafted through the short strands of his hair. He closed his eyes against the almost sensual feel of it. There was something very strange about the events of the past few days and he only wished he could put his finger on what it was. Clearly Teyla was upset on her return from New Athos; her people had just vanished into thin air so she had a reason to be but she and Keller had been entirely too secretive for John to be entirely comfortable around them together. And well, when he was alone with Teyla she was as jumpy as a jitter bug and he couldn't really get her to look at him, let alone talk to him. He wanted to be able to help her.

And how he'd tried. He'd gone to the infirmary and instead of the usual cajoling banter they shared, she'd barely looked at him and had been curt at best when she had. He's admit that it hurt – quite a lot more than it should, probably – but when a person lived on Atlantis with the same people for four years, they came to know the other. And John knew Teyla and he knew that something was wrong. She hadn't wanted to spar with him that morning, citing a head ache (the last time she'd used that she'd been suffering nightmares in which he'd been the big bad monster) and wandered off down the stairs. He'd wanted to go after her but he hadn't; he'd just stayed there on the stairs, staring after her in confusion.

He couldn't help but feel she was pulling away from him – not just because she had lost her people but he could see something lurking underneath the cool exterior of her mask. And if the lingering stares Keller was prone to giving him when he walked past was anything to go by he was damn sure it had something to do with Teyla's health.

He had a right to know. Maybe he could convince Carter to order Teyla to tell him what was wrong.

He snorted. Right. He'd be as well signing his own execution order instead.

He groaned and leaned his head against his forearms that were leaning on the cool rail in front of him. The chill winter that had settled over the new home of Atlantis some months ago was finally beginning to lift and he was able to touch the metal outside without fear of his hand getting stuck. He tilted his head so his chin rested on his forearms and he stared across the glittering azure waves of the sea. The Sun was lingering low in the sky despite the early afternoon hour, casting a haze of violet and pink, yellow and orange across his face and the glorious city below him, setting it alight in a magical way that could only be alien. The light caught the edge of a few waves breaking off the south pier and they glistened brilliant white in the perfect sea. A few stars were beginning to litter the far horizon and he remembered that it used to be Venus that shone above the setting Sun; now he didn't know the name of a single star, let alone a constellation. He'd never wanted to either, until now.

He'd been out on the balcony for hours and no one had come to find him, nor called him on the radio. He grunted at that; sometimes Atlantis was far too much like Earth where none of his family really paid any mind to him, nor ever thought to seek him out. He wondered if he would always be alone; Rodney had his work and his other science geeks (though he'd never admit to actually talking to them); Teyla'd had her people and now she had Ronon and Ronon had her – both the obvious outcasts of the group. But it was their outcast-ness that drew them together and left John out in the wilderness by himself. At one point, he thought he'd had Teyla too but now she was gone and he didn't even know why.

He'd rather be alone, anyway. He always had been – even when he'd been married. He operated better by himself; that way, he didn't have to explain himself.

He sighed again and dropped to his derrière, sliding his ankles out through the gap in the bars, slinging his arms through as well. He heaved a sigh and fought down the almost indomitable urge to run around, stomping his feet, screaming at how unfair the world was being to him.

He was exhausted and he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a very, very long time.

Ever since Carter had come to Atlantis, she'd relied on his 'expertise' but hadn't he been the one to turn down the job because his 'expertise' was not as great as everyone thought? He felt like he was holding her hand, getting her used to the place, guiding her through all the different things that could go wrong and it was tiresome. She should know how to handle the things that could go wrong – she'd worked in the SGC for nigh on ten years. He sighed again. He liked Carter, he really did but he just wanted her to be the leader she'd come to Atlantis to be.

He wanted a lot of things, really.

"Sheppard."

He turned his head around slowly, resting his chin on his triceps and stared up at the intrusion on his solitude with tired eyes. Ronon stood, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest, staring down at his commanding officer. John turned away. He didn't want Ronon. Not right then, anyway.

"What's up, Ronon?"

He heard the gentle thud of Ronon's steps as he walked closer to John. Hopefully the Satedan would leave him alone. John snorted – loudly – at that; hadn't he, moments before, been complaining about the fact that none of his team had come to find him? And now that one had come, he wanted peace and silence once again.

He wasn't usually so fussy really. But he was tired and confused and had been left to himself for far too long. The damage had already been done; he was grumpy and downright irritable.

"I was talking to Teyla." John grunted and nodded in return, never removing his eyes from the horizon. He wondered how long it would take to reach it. But then he shook his head and glanced down at his childish thought – he knew that the horizon would keep going; that it was only there because the world tilted away from him. He frowned at the morbidity of that thought. "She's pregnant."

John didn't move for a very long time. He was pretty sure he didn't breathe either. When he eventually turned his head – opened his eyes – Ronon was gone and the Sun had dipped below the edge of the planet.

He let out a long, low breath.

There were a lot of things John Sheppard wanted. Silence wasn't one of them.