Title: It's You
Summary: AU. She gasped for breath and John bit his lip.
Characters: John & Teyla
Pairing: John/Teyla
Rating: K for the angst.
Notes: This is my response to sillyscipia's challenge at Gateworld: "John and Teyla are to be married but Michael kidnaps her before they do." Angst was a must. What can I say?
She gasped for breath and John bit his lip. Uncertainty washed through him, the need to do something but every time he made to move she gripped his shoulders, held him close and he'd hold her even closer. Her pain ached deep down in his heart and he wished nothing more than to sweep her off her feet and carry her to the altar like he'd promised so many months before.
He swept his hand through her hair, ducked his head into his neck and felt the hot sting of tears at the back of his eyes. He couldn't cry, not there, not with her. He had to be strong; she needed him to be strong.
"It hurts, John. I can't... I can't..."
He hushed her, wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs and dropped his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and dislodging a tear.
"It's okay, Teyla, I'm here," he whispered into her lips, before he kissed her. "We'll get through this together."
She sobbed, a sound so heart wrenching that John felt it all the way down to his toes and his body convulsed at the sound. He hated seeing her in so much pain because of him; because he hadn't been able to help her in time.
Her hands against his chest are reassuring and warm, and he held her palms in his fingers, massaging the knuckles he knew got sore when the nights are cold. He sighed and closed his eyes as she raised her hand and brushed her knuckles down his jaw, tracing his chin with her finger.
"You never give up," she murmured in wonderment and he leaned into her touch, revelling in the warmth she provided. "Why do you never give up?"
He opened his eyes slowly, meeting hers, trying not to let his own pain seep through into her already weeping wounds.
"It's you."
-
The two words whisper in his mind as he opens his eyes in the darkened room. Shaken and breathless, he turns to where she should be and although she hasn't been for months now he still feels the tug at his heart and he sobs into the empty air.
His fingers reach out and tug the pillow to his chest and he tries to breathe in her smell that vanished months before, his gut tightening as the sobs rip through his body, tears soaking into the soft cotton.
"Why do you never give up?"
"It's you."
He sobs again, his body writhing, his stomach churning over and over. He stays there – broken, torn, a shadow – in the bed until the suns tint the window beyond but he doesn't see it.
"It's you."
He opens his eyes.
She's not there.
"It was you."