Title: You
Summary: He closed his eyes and drifted off, pained by the knowledge that in a few hours he'd be leaving.
Characters: John, Teyla
Pairing: John/Teyla, Teyla/Kanan
Rating: K -T

"John?"

He stilled in his bed, his sleepy brain taking a few seconds to catch up to the fact that there was someone in his room speaking to him. He sat straight up in bed and squinted into the darkness, his bleary eyes finding the task difficult. He fought off the yawn as he stretched across the bed to where his hockey stick lay; stopping only when the voice registered in his brain. He stilled once again, the blood running cold in his veins.

He turned slowly towards where the voice had come from, just inside the door and he raised the lights to a little more than off.

"Teyla." His voice was groggy and he really needed a drink.

He hadn't seen Teyla since his spectacle in the briefing room a few days before and his hand involuntarily rose to his jaw, wincing again at the blow that was landed there. In truth, there was two ways he imagined the rest of his last week in Atlantis would play out – one would be with her approaching him straight away and imparted a blow much similar to that which her husband had; the second was to never see her again. He hadn't expected this; her showing up at his room at god knows what time sans a fist ready to punch him to the floor.

He slid out of bed and stood before her, his hands twisting around themselves as she stood staring at him. She didn't say anything as she scrutinized him and he didn't shuffle under the weight of her gaze. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his suddenly hammering heart. He flicked his gaze over her shoulder as he frowned at the door she'd entered through – he was pretty sure he'd locked it before falling asleep but he may well have forgotten; his mind was on many other things.

"You are a fool."

There was a lightness to her tone that he hadn't expected and he almost laughed as the tension fled his body.

"Yeah," he muttered as he glanced down, his hand rising to rub at his neck subconsciously. "About that... Teyla... I..." He stopped when he saw her shake her head. "What?"

She said nothing as she took a step towards him, her hands fluttering in front of her body. He eyed her warily as she stepped closer to him again, her eyes switching between his stomach and his eyes. As she drew ever closer to him, a beam of milky light struck her features and she was illuminated in a diaphanous glow that stole John's breath. Eyes that he'd studied for years sparkled in a way he'd never seen, her skin radiated a warmth that he wanted to feel. But he didn't, he kept his hands at bay as he studied her studying him. There was a freshness, a newness to her that he couldn't quite grasp.

"I have known for some time that women are the folly of men." John frowned as she ducked her head, her fingers twisting around her ring finger and he felt his heart still. He glanced up to her eyes and found her staring back at her. "Kanan has known for some time and for that, he is less of a fool than you." Her words stung and John blinked in momentary confusion. Kanan was never mentioned in their quiet time together, alone and he found her breaking those unspoken rules almost like blasphemy.

"I don't..."

"You would not." He raised an eyebrow but the irritation he felt seeding in his guy never quite blossomed. "It was never my intention to deceive. I love Kanan." John swallowed and looked down from her piercing gaze. "I was content with him."

"Then why are you here?" He interrupted as his irritation flourished.

"That is a question we should have asked some years ago, John." He frowned again. "What have we been doing for these past years?"

"What do you mean?" Suddenly, he felt very much like he was losing something.

She laughed and shook her head, taking a step back from him.

"While I was content..." She closed her eyes and John was sure he heard a catch in her voice. "I still found myself here, with you." She caught his eyes again and he fought so very hard not to draw them from her and run from the room.

He was so very unprepared for this conversation. He had never expected it. The things she was referring to were things that he'd never allowed himself to label because that gave them meaning outside of what they were – it made them seem wrong and he had long since resided in the knowledge that their time together was very right. They had never actually done anything wrong, not even the night they had spent together in his bed. He had rationalised it to the confines of their friendship, even though his heart had protested loudly.

"Teyla..." He tried to stop her. He didn't want her to ruin those moments; he didn't want her to tell him that they didn't mean the same to her as they did to him because he didn't think he could handle that.

"And these... these things have consequences."

John felt his breath catch in his chest and he stared at her.

"Grae."

"You know."

He nodded, although he knew it wasn't a question. He felt something rush through him and he stumbled slightly as his knees gave way. He lowered himself to the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands.

"How long have you known?"

He shrugged and shook his head, digging his fingers into his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears that were welling there.

"I think... subconsciously I always have." He looked at her through his parted fingers and saw her nod, her eyes glistening. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head vehemently.

"I am not." He nodded and turned his head away from her as she shuffled, her hands fluttering to her eyebrow, to her hair. He scraped a hand through his own hair and sniffed, trying to formulate words but nothing came. "Grae... our child..." John felt a jolt shoot through his body at that and a droplet of salty liquid escaped over the brim of his lid. He didn't wipe it away. "At least something good has come from our foolishness."

He choked on the words that threatened to escape and he turned his eyes back to her form to see her leaning against the chest of drawers next to his bed, the silver rays highlighting the tears on her face.

"What...?"

She turned her head in his direction and he shifted his body so he was facing her, his knee drawn up on the bed.

"You are leaving tomorrow."

He nodded and looked away as more tears gathered. And that was it right there. He was leaving and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd been regretting his decision ever since the morning he spent out on the balcony with Teyla and Grae, ever since Ronon had taken him aside and thoroughly whipped his ass and told him he was an idiot. He hadn't wanted to admit that what Ronon had said was right at the time but now he knew it was. He'd always known that Grae was his and yet, he was still willing to up and leave. He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting out a small mocking laugh as he did so.

"Yeah," he whispered airily, with more than a hint of self-depreciation.

"Kanan knows."

It didn't come as much of a surprise to him. It seemed that Rodney was the only one oblivious to the fact that Kanan was not the father. Now that John thought about it, even Carter had given him a few knowing looks whenever he'd been in possession of Grae. He really was an idiot.

"Teyla... I'm sorry."

"You did not make me doing anything I did not wish to." He nodded but it did little to placate his raging guilt. "Our friendship has always been special, John, regardless of my situation." He nodded but did not meet her eyes.

He pushed himself from the bed almost violently and strode back and forth, his hands never resting in one place for too long.

"You know, when I was with Nancy." He saw her wince at that and there was a part of him that was secretly glad of her jealousy. "I felt like I was..." he faltered in his step and his words and when he turned to her, he saw clearly the grief scorched in her eyes. "I felt like I was betraying you."

He stared at her, his eyes never blinking as he watched her process what he'd said. He felt his throat clog up when she took a step towards him.

"I wish one last thing from you before you leave."

His chest tightened and he found that he couldn't speak. His eyes stung with the unshed tears there and his hands burned to touch her. He nodded instead and tried to suck in a calming breath.

"Remind me of your touch."

There was a sob and he didn't know which one of them it came from. Instantaneously he reached out to her, his finger drifting down her arm, over the back of her hand right down to the tip of her finger. She watched the movement with cloudy eyes, her lip tucked neatly between her two teeth. He clasped her fingers between his and when she turned her eyes back to his, he tugged her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her petite frame.

His hands slid down her back in a soothing gesture and he felt her shiver under his gentle touch. She pulled back slightly, her eyes lowered and he felt it, that damn irrepressible tug and this time he didn't push it away. He let it envelope him and he lowered his head, nudging her head with his nose until she looked up. He could see the fear, the pain, the longing in her eyes before he closed his own and pressed his lips to hers. She didn't hesitate in her response and her arms wound their way around his body.

He didn't know how it happened but he found her beneath him on his bed, his hands sliding across skin slick with sweat, through hair matted from movement. He gasped, spent as he lay beside her, their chests rising and falling in perfect tandem. Bittersweet tears trickled to their hairlines and they didn't turn to one another for some time.

Eventually, as the twilight faded to dawn and the suns rose from their slumber, he wrapped his arms around her body as she turned in to him, more tears falling across his bare chest. He traced his finger across her back, kissed her temple, stroked her hair until the gentle rhythm of her breathing evened out. He fought against the sob in his throat, his body lurching with the effort until eventually he let the tears fall.

For John, this moment would never fade. With the perfect azure sunrise sparkling against clear waters, splintering through his window across the sleeping form of the woman he had told himself he would never hurt, John Sheppard didn't know how he was going to be able to leave.

She shuffled and groaned slightly as though his thoughts were intruding on her perfect slumber.

He laid a placating kiss to her temple. He felt those indomitable words form in his throat but this time, he didn't try to repress them.

"I love you."

He closed his eyes and drifted off, pained by the knowledge that in a few hours he'd be leaving.