Title: Belonging
Summary: He's not sure any of them would understand, anyway. 'Sunday' Tag
Characters: Ronon, Sheppard & Teyla
Rating: K+
Notes: This is a sequel of sorts to my story, Orchestra and in that sense, it can be seen as John/Teyla pairing.
He watched them walk into the quiet mess hall over his steaming mug of tea and wished he could disappear into the long shadows of the room. He'd come to the mess hall for solitude, for some time to think without the oppressive emptiness of his quarters bearing down on him and he still wasn't ready to have it interrupted. He'd not sorted it out in his head yet, hadn't gotten his mind around what had happened and the thought of being with other people while he was feeling like this was not something he wanted.
As he watched them quietly cross the large expanse of the mess hall he knew they'd been outside. The wind whipped the rain against the long glass windows of the city, sounding like tiny speckles of ice breaking against the surface; the winds voice screeching passed the towers of Atlantis. Even when they'd been in Scotland it had rained and Ronon wondered if the weather of two galaxies was mourning the loss like him. Sheppard and Teyla stood by the coffee machine as it gurgled to life and it was the only sound breaking the silence of Ronon's musings. He watched as they stood beside one another, their rushed attempts to dry not hiding how soaked they were. Sheppard's jacket thrown haphazardly across Teyla's shoulders did little to hide the wet scrubs she wore beneath and he wondered if they'd found peace together.
He sighed and slid further down in his seat, hoping that they would not see him. Their quiet closeness was not what he needed; right now, he felt like the outsider he had always been while running from the Wraith. He felt like what had connected him to the city had been ripped from his hands and he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He looked down to his mug and closed his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh and knowing it would do no good to ease the ache in his chest.
Carson had been like a brother to him.
He was the reason Ronon was in the City and Ronon knew that many people forgot that.
Rodney was wallowing in his own self-pitying grief, Sheppard was bottling everything up and he just couldn't go to Teyla with this; he's not sure any of them would understand, anyway.
Carson had given him a second chance, a life free of running from the Wraith and he had never properly thanked him. The doctor had removed his tracking device, had killed the Wraith that had enslaved Ronon for years and Ronon respected him for that, more than any of the others.
It was a shame he'd never known that.
He looked up when he felt eyes on him and he stared back at Teyla as she leaned against the small table, taking the weight off her legs. She looked tired, Ronon thought, but he looked away, not quite ready to invite her to join him. Moments later, the chair across from him scraped across the floor and he watched as Sheppard helped her into it as she winced in pain, gripping her side. He tried to glare at Sheppard when he sat, arms outstretched and smiled tentatively at Ronon.
He could see Sheppard had been crying and he felt something break apart inside. Pain erupted in his chest and he looked away, to the doors, to the windows the wail of the wind scraping across his mind and he sighed, dropping his head slightly.
"You all right, buddy?" Sheppard asked quietly and Ronon looked up, meeting his eyes.
He glanced to Teyla who was staring into the mug she held tightly in her hands, the tears swimming in her eyes. She flicked her eyes up to meet his and she didn't try to smile, didn't reach out to touch him and as his own eyes watered, neither did Sheppard.
And in that moment Ronon knew he wasn't alone anymore, that they knew what he was going through and he was glad that they had come to him.
He shook his head and lifted his hands to his face.
"Not really."