This fic is set at the end of the episode This Mortal Coil, so beware of spoilers
"Three months and I'm still standing here
Three months and I'm getting better yeah
Three months and I still am
Three months and it's still harder now
Three months I've been living here without you now"
His hand hovered over the door controls and his breath quickened. He could feel a slight tremor in his hand, so he leaned against the wall, looking at his shoes, trying to gather courage. He wouldn't let anyone else do this; he had to be the one to do it. His team understood and he guessed that the rest of the Atlantis population did too. It was late and the day's events left him spent, both physically and emotionally.
He
didn't ask for help. The last thing he needed was to having company
right now. No, he needed to deal in his own way, without anyone telling
him it was not his fault. Any of it. He
leaned his forehead against
the cool surface of the wall, feeling the slight buzz of the city along
his nerve endings. The buzz had changed recently and he didn't know
when he first noticed that; probably when he was landing with the city
on their new home planet three months ago. Memories flowed through him
and he shut his eyes tightly, willing the images to go away. Seconds
later his mind cleared, leaving him feeling numb and empty inside. He
took in a deep breath, determined to finally breach the barrier. The
door whooshed open without his volition and he stared at it for a few
seconds; it was like Atlantis knew what he was about to do.
Swallowing uneasily, he let himself enter. Stopping just behind the door, he looked around the room, his eyes darting from one place to another. The door slid shut behind him, trapping him in. His stomach churned and knot formed in his throat as he took in the various things placed all over the room. The books and the Athosian decorations on the shelves were gathering a thin layer of dust, a sign that nobody had been to this room for a long time.
Three months.
Three
months of hoping and praying, then only seconds later finding the world
crashing down on him with those words. This was one of the hardest
things, if not the hardest, he had ever been through. He looked around
again, spotting a grey BDU jacket draped over the back of a chair next
to the table, a pair of BDU pants placed at the foot of the bed, the
bedding rumpled slightly.
Everything was just like she left it. Like she hadn't left.
Like she hadn't died.
He bit his lip and his eyes watered. Blinking the moisture away he walked the length of the room, his fingertips touching things, the desk, the jacket, tracing the decorations, his eyes taking everything in; the name of the books and their authors, the photo of the Atlantis expedition on her nightstand, the pot he gave her for her first birthday here.
He slowly walked over to her bed and picked up the framed photo, his lips curving into small smile. He placed the frame back on its spot and with a heavy heart he picked up the pot, turning it over in his hands.
This time there were no ashes to be sprinkled into the ocean.
His jaw clenched and suddenly a blindingly hot white rage seized him and he hurled the pot against a nearby wall, breaking the delicate pottery into hundreds of pieces. He sat heavily on her bed, his eyes never leaving the clay shreds on the ground. He felt exactly the same. Like he was torn apart and never put back together; like the Stargate took him apart and didn't put him together the same way he was before. He was feeling so much; feelings he couldn't even begin to name ran through him all at once. It was overwhelming.
Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he desperately tried to forget everything that happened in the past 4 months. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend nothing ever happened and that any moment now she would come through that door asking him what he was doing in her quarters. He could almost see her expression...her arms folded, her eyebrow arched high, amusement quirking the corner of her mouth slightly upwards. His shut his eyes tighter, willing the images of her go away.
A sound was wrenched out of his throat, something between a sob and a growl. He didn't want to believe some replicator that she was dead. The bigger part of him knew she was dead, yet the smaller part hoped there was still a chance to bring her back somehow. He was giving up and hated himself for it.
Looking around the room once again, he walked over to her desk and peered into a box Teyla left there earlier. It contained her laptop, the photo of her dog and the pocket watch he had seen her hold in her hands or toy with the chain. He picked it up and clasped his hand around the silver object before stuffing it inside his pocket.
He sighed and picked up an empty box, gathering her belongings. He had lost something today but he would make sure her legacy lived on.
"Three months and I'm still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up"
THE END