NOTE: The song that the lyrics below are taken from doesn't have much to do with the story or Atlantis, but I was writing and listening to this song, and those few lines fit pretty well. XD

Name: Waiting For Yesterday
Rating: T
Genres: Action/Adventure/Drama
Pairings: John/Teyla
Random: You will need to know Military time to know what time I have listed at the top of each chapter. If ya don't know it, search "Military Time Chart" on Yahoo and click the first option.
AU?: No
Summary: When she was controlled by them, she killed. When she was captured by her friends, she was experimented upon — and she was pregnant with a Wraith child. When she broke free of the being controlling her, she was different. John ... help her.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or the characters. This is set after Phantoms but before The Return Pt. 1! Song Lyrics: Waiting For Yesterday by 12 Stones.

Watch the sun steal Yesterday,
Hiding all emotion - far away.
Days spent wondering why this life is so cold,
And nothing ever changes.

Waiting For Yesterday — Prologue

October 13th, 17:09 Hours

They circled each other, staring deep into the other's eyes. Neither made a move to lash out at the other, just content to continue the dance that they had started long ago. Their feet moved in perfect rhythm and their breathing was heard in the quiet room.

The silence was shattered as he struck; she twisted her body around easily, her stick meeting his in mid-air, only inches from her face.

He smirked and she smiled.

Neither spoke as they continued moving slowly. When they finally began to fight, their movements were quick and skillful, nothing out of place and nothing wrong until she knocked one stick from his hand and grabbed his other arm, pinning it behind his back as she touched her sticks to his throat. She let him drop to the ground seconds later, walking a step away.

"You have not been practicing," Teyla said slowly, reaching out her hand, offering to help the man that had so ungracefully fallen onto the floor only moments before. He took the offered hand, and once he was standing on his feet again, he shook his head to the side, his shaggy, black hair moving from his eyes.

"Yes I have," he defended himself. He tried to catch his breath, the sticks in his hands twirling as he expertly moved them from finger to finger, finally grasping them in his palms. "Again."

She smiled and nodded, taking her own sticks in her hands once more.

When, two minutes later, she had her sticks under his chin and him in a head-lock, she said again slowly, "You have not been practicing."

He frowned in response and, when she let him go, he stood to his feet.

"Once more."

"Very well, John."

They circled each other, occasionally lashing out, their sticks meeting halfway to their targets. His gaze met hers and they didn't break that gaze as they continued the movements of the training they went through every single day. Finally, he lashed out, only narrowly missing her as Teyla bent her knees, her head moving down and their gaze breaking.

He smiled as she stood back up in one swift movement. Their eyes met again, and green stared into brown as his feet moved slowly across the floor. Her sticks twirled in her fingers, and he took the opening she provided.

It took even him by surprise when his sticks moved swiftly through the air and somehow pinned her to the wall. As soon as his fingers held her free wrist immobile, she bowed her head softly, her eyes closing.

"You have won."

"See? Told you I've been practicing," he said, grinning, as he grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink. She nodded simply and moved to put her sticks in her own bag.

"Yes, very well done." But she was smiling.

He smirked and stuck his pack over his shoulder, opening the gym door and walking out with Teyla at his side. Silence fell between them once again as they walked. There seemed to be no need for words, but the silence soon became strained. John ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He was about to ask her something when Teyla said softly,

"I suddenly do not feel very well." Her hand went to her head and she paused where she was standing.

John turned to look at her. She looked worn out; more so than she ever had been after a training session. Raising an eyebrow, he said, concerned, "What's wrong, Teyla?"

"I don't know." Then she said, "Nothing. I-I will be fine."

He could tell she was lying; she looked like she was about to faint. Frowning, John said,

"You should see Carson."

"No, I will be fine. I just need to rest for a bit."

"Teyla ... " John said in a warning voice. She looked up and smiled reassuringly at him and he sighed. There was no way to change her mind once she had it made up. But maybe she was telling truth; maybe she'd just felt sick for a second and then it had passed.

Walking on, John kept a close eye on Teyla, but she seemed to be fine, just like she'd said. They had almost reached her quarters, where they usually split up after sparing, when her pack suddenly dropped from her hands. John turned around, the concern written clearly on his face.

"Teyla?"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to slump to the ground. Dropping his pack, he caught her just in time, his knees hitting painfully into the floor.

"Teyla?" he said again, trying to catch her attention. The hall that they were in was pretty empty, but a young woman who was walking through ran over; she could see something was wrong.

"Is there anything I can do, sir?" she asked.

"Get Carson!" John yelled, carefully laying Teyla on the floor. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was sharp. He felt for her pulse with shaky hands, knowing it was there but wanting to reassure himself.

She wasn't moving, but her weak pulse beat beneath his fingers as he took a deep breath in. He was overreacting for nothing, but his concern rose when she began sweating, and when he laid his palm on her forehead, he was surprised at the heat that caressed his fingertips.

"Teyla, what's happening to you?" he whispered, frowning as he stared into her face. Her brown eyes opened for only a second, and he gasped at the green circles that surrounded the iris. Her eyes slipped closed as Carson came running down the hall.

John followed them into the infirmary and watched from afar as Carson frantically tried to find out what was wrong. The line on the heart monitor went flat in the same second that a shrill, steady beeping filled the room.

"Please live," John whispered quietly.

—TBC—

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