AN: Hi! Just a little side-fic, I decided to write after listening to some music, and watching SGA ep "The Shrine". OMG one of my new faves. Anyway...also just wanted to say that I'm still here...it's just been crazy with Thanksgiving, and as it's cold and flu season, having 4 kids means someone's almost always sick.

Hope you enjoy!

Just realized...I should spoiler-tag this...Mmmkay...

SPOILERS: through Season 5. There...that makes things easier.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. *sad face*

To Friendship

John Sheppard sat alone on the South Pier, his jean-clad legs dangling over the ledge and a cold beer in his right hand. The sun was just beginning to set, its orange glow tinting the puffy clouds a rich golden color, its fading light sending sparks of red along the ocean's waves. The breeze was faint, barely ruffling the shock of dark hair at his forehead, but still he could smell the salt of the water below his bare feet.

Sheppard sighed as he took in the view, his mind turning over each scattered thought that ran through it. Tears, as hot as the anger he felt in his chest, burned the corners of his eyes, and he took a long swig from the can he held, hoping the alcohol would blur more than just his vision.

Just as he finished that can and set it beside him to pop open another, he was aware of light footsteps behind him. He didn't turn around, instead focusing on the thin, dark band on the horizon that indicated the mainland, but he knew by the slight flowery scent that reached him who it was.

"Look," he said before she could utter a word, "I know I messed up back there. It's just…I couldn't…"

Teyla gingerly avoided the empty beer can and sat down bedside him, also letting her slender legs hang over the lip of the pier. She took a moment to glance at him, and then also turned to gaze silently at the mainland. In the years she had known Sheppard, she had found that instead of trying to talk to him, it was often more helpful just to listen.

"He can be such a pain in the ass sometimes," Sheppard muttered before taking another sip.

Teyla smiled sympathetically. "Sometimes. But underneath his…attitude…he is rather gentle and caring."

Sheppard snorted. "If you say so."

They fell into silence again, the only sound Sheppard's long sigh of frustration. Finally, he turned to her, his hazel eyes dark. "You think I should apologize."

She lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. "I think you should follow your heart, John."

He scoffed at that, his upper lip curling into a sneer. "That's never turned out very well, now. Has it?" He slammed the beer can on the ground beside him, causing her to jump at the loud noise it made. "Whenever I follow my 'heart', or whatever, someone gets killed, or kidnapped by Michael, like you were."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his index finger, effectively stopping her. "Let's face facts, Teyla. My heart has never done me, or anyone else, any good!"

Teyla merely stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes wide and her lips set in a firm line. When his anger had abated to a more manageable level, she took a breath and then said, "That is not true."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she cocked her head slightly in a silent warning. It was her turn to stop him from interrupting.

"Had it not been for your heart – your compassion – my people and yours would never have become allies. And you and I would not have become friends and teammates. If not for your trust and patience, Ronon would not be here, either. And when he was taken a second time to be a Runner, it was your bond of friendship that drove us to find him.

"As for Rodney, it was your heart that led you to be there for him when he was infected by the parasite. It was you, John – only you – that he called for when he was afraid. Even in that state, he knew that you would be there for him, that you would take care of him."

Sheppard thought over what she had said, then drank down his half-full beer in one shot. When he tossed the empty can behind him, he shook his head sadly. "I can't, Teyla."

"'Can't', what, John?" She asked him, folding her arms across her chest, as much to ward off the slight chill that followed the sun's setting as to display her frustration with him.

"I can't care anymore. Just when I think that I can, just when I think I can finally open up to someone, that I can let them into my life, something happens to take that person away." In the last fading light, his eyes sparked intensely. "I can't take that kind of torture anymore."

Teyla nodded slowly, finally understanding some of the reasoning behind his usual aloof behavior. He had told her once that his team was the closest thing to family that he had, and while she had recently discovered that he had family members back on Earth, she knew that he did not consider them to be anything more than acquaintances. From what she had been told by Rodney and Ronon, it was exactly his relatives' treatment of him that had caused him to be so distant now.

Deciding to risk his temper, Teyla reached over and settled her hand over his. He looked down at their hands, and then up at her. She smiled softly at him, the breeze that had now picked up blowing a strand of her bangs across her cheek, and said, "I, too, felt the way you do now, first when Charin died, and again when my people were all culled by the Wraith. I felt…helpless."

Sheppard nodded somberly at her, but said nothing.

"But I realized that though I had lost people very close to me, there were others who had been there with me, who had been there the entire time."

"Teyla," he said, his voice telling her he was about to dispute her point, to say that it wasn't the same, but she squeezed his hand once to quiet him.

"You – and the others as well – have been my strength when I thought I could not go on. Every time I wanted to give up, you were there telling me to keep fighting, and I found the will to do so. And when I thought I had failed, when Michael had taken me and there seemed to be no hope of escape, you found me.

"You are very important to us, John, to everyone on Atlantis. The responsibility you have here is great – as a leader, I understand how much weight must rest on your shoulders – but you have friends who are willing to help you carry such a burden, if only you would let us."

As she finished speaking, he stared at her, his jaw silently working. Unsure of what to say to her, he simply squeezed her hand, not knowing it was just the reaction she had been hoping for.

"We all care for you, John, and do not wish to see you so troubled," she added softly.

"I know you do," he murmured, his bottom lip stuck out in a slight pout. Then, he reached behind him and pulled the remainder of the six-pack he'd brought out onto his lap. He gripped two cans and yanked them from the plastic holding them together, then handed one to Teyla and set the other two cans back down. Sheppard popped the tab on his and took a sip, while Teyla's curious gaze shifted from the can in her hand to his face. Grinning slightly at her expression, he shrugged, his casual demeanor back in force.

"Might as well have one more, and then we'll go back inside, so I can apologize to Rodney for being an insensitive jerk."

Teyla nodded. "Very well."

An idea hit him then, and he held up his beer can, motioning for her to do the same. "To friendship."

"To friendship," she agreed, clinking her drink against his and giggling when a fair amount of beer dumped onto their hands.

As they sat there, watching the moons rise over the ocean, Sheppard heaved a contented sigh. Things may go badly some days, and he might lose more of the people he cared about, but as long as his friends were there, he knew he'd never really be alone.