Thanks go to Tielan, Sholio, and Madigirl for their excellent beta efforts.
Obviously, I do not own SGA or any of its characters. Anyone who says I do is a dirty liar.
"Okay, I think we're all set," Rodney said. He glanced around the jumper cockpit one last time. It was at least the sixth time he had done so.
They had yet to actually take off.
"I believe all is ready," Teyla told him, squirming slightly in the co-pilot seat to visually demonstrate that she was settled in and prepared to go.
But still they did not take off. She glanced to her left to find Rodney looking at her with wide-eyed concern. "You're sure you feel up to this? I mean, you're not too… tired… or anything?"
"I'm fine. I wish to go."
"It's just, I don't want you to—"
"I am fine." She put some steel into her voice, and he reacted as though he'd been reprimanded, facing the front and thinking the engines to life. He had a wounded look, but she felt no guilt. She was beyond tired of this excessive concern over her health and that of the child she was carrying.
She was, frankly, weary of the attitudes that nearly everyone in the city displayed toward her lately. Some of the Atlanteans were clearly uncomfortable with Teyla, now that her secret was out. They seemed to think they should avoid talking about the baby because she was distraught over the disappearance of her people and the baby's father. They visibly struggled with curiosity about the man she'd chosen and their perception that she would not want to talk about him. So they restricted conversation to banalities and what they apparently thought of as safe topics, and no one ever dared say anything of meaning.
Still others wanted to talk about nothing but the baby, gushing excitedly about names, baby clothes, a custom called a "baby shower," childbirth horror stories, and the differences between Athosian and Earth baby care methods. It was strangely overwhelming, as though she were the sole source of some kind of subcultural sustenance, and despite the good intentions behind it, five or ten minutes of it made her want to flee.
The result was that Teyla had almost no one to talk frankly with about her baby, about Kanan, about her highest hopes and her deepest fears. Everyone either kept her at arm's length or tried to pull in too closely, smothering her with their enthusiasm.
Even those with whom she was closest had changed. John had become distant and made it clear that he would not spar with her until she had safely delivered the baby. That meant that she usually saw him only in the mess hall or in the occasional staff meetings to which she was invited. There seemed to be fewer chance encounters and "team night" activities. Being removed from gate team active duty had not only significantly reduced her responsibilities, but also isolated her from the people who generally made up her inner social circle: her team.
Ronon was fine with her, of course, but he had made it his mission to personally check out every lead about the whereabouts of the Athosians, no matter how flimsy, and that was taking him off-world a great deal.
And Rodney… well, Rodney's attitude was an odd mixture of cloying solicitousness and oblivious self-absorption. He might loudly proclaim it unsafe for her to be walking the pier "in her condition," then carelessly swing a piece of equipment that nearly knocked her off the pier without even noticing. Depending on her mood, it was either exasperating or endearing. When she'd proposed this outing yesterday, she'd been leaning toward the latter. Today, her mood had shifted, but it was too late to withdraw the offer.
Katie Brown's birthday was approaching, and Rodney had expressed a desire to find a special gift. Teyla had instantly thought of a plant she had seen on an uninhabited planet on which she had spent a lovely afternoon with Kanan. The plant had possessed a lavender-colored flower of strikingly delicate beauty. The season had no doubt changed since she first encountered it, so the plant was likely no longer in bloom, but she was certain she would know it by its foliage if she saw it again. So she had offered to accompany Rodney to this planet in order to locate one of these plants.
She had expected to go through the stargate and walk to the clearing where she'd seen the flowers, and was stunned to learn that Rodney had actually booked a jumper for the trip.
"Well, you said it was quite a trek from the gate," he said, managing to look sheepish, indignant, and protective simultaneously, "and this will save you, um us, um… time."
Clearly, he thought she couldn't handle the trip on foot because of her "condition." Teyla forced herself not to snap at him; he was trying to be considerate, even though his concern was unwarranted. Athosian women were routinely physically active well into the seventh month of pregnancy.
Finally, Rodney took the jumper through the gate.
"Okay, we're up in the air now," he told her, as though he thought she was blind rather than with child, "and look! It's a beautiful day, just as the meteorological sensors are telling us. Nice, clear blue sky; big, fluffy white clouds. You'll, um, you'll tell me if you start to, um… feel anything, won't you?"
She slid her eyes toward him without moving her head. "If I start to 'feel anything?'"
"Yeah. You know. Nausea, vertigo, c-cr-cramps, um… anything that, you know, might signal, um, you know…"
"I am only in the fourth month, Rodney. I will be just fine. Please stop worrying."
"Um, right! Sure. Stop worrying. Got it. After all, it's not like you wouldn't tell me when it's time to start worrying. You would, right?"
She closed her eyes and prayed to the Ancestors for strength. This idea had seemed so much better yesterday.
Teyla pointed out the best spot to land the jumper, telling Rodney it was close to the area where she'd seen the plant growing months ago. In fact, it was a considerable distance from the clearing in question, but she had planned to have a nice walk today, and by the Ancestors, she would have one. As he came in for the landing, she had to admit that he'd become quite a good pilot. She should tell him so – it might help him to relax.
But then he landed the jumper with a minute bump and immediately panicked. "I'm sorry! That was too rough, wasn't it? I thought it was going to be smoother. Are you okay? Everything still…? I didn't… You're okay, right?"
Forcing a bright smile, she grabbed the bag she'd brought and simply answered, "Let's go."
0o0o0
"Okay, let's take a break," Rodney said.
Teyla continued to climb. The hill wasn't particularly steep, just rocky. "I don't need a break. I am fine."
"Well, see, I'm not!" he retorted, coming to a stop. When she didn't do the same, he grabbed her upper arm. She tugged, and Rodney let go instantly. He spread his hands apart as though to suggest Don't hurt me! before relaxing and resting them on his knees. "I wasn't prepared for a long, rough hike, Teyla. I need to rest."
Without a word, she ceased her ascent, looking around until she found a small fallen tree and sat upon it, straight-backed and broadcasting a clear lack of fatigue. Rodney made a show of stretching, groaning as though his back hurt, and slumped against a living tree. "Cramps!" he grunted.
"I have already said, I am fine!"
He shot her a stunned, wide stare. She now noticed that he was massaging his right calf. "I have cramps. In my leg."
She swallowed and tried to will away the blush she felt flooding her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood."
She watched his ineffectual self-massage and listened to his grunts of pain until she felt compelled to act. Coming to his side, Teyla pushed his hands away and grabbed the leg with one hand, his foot with the other. She gradually but firmly pushed the toe of his boot back toward his knee, straightening the cramping calf muscle. Rodney yelped slightly and then sighed as the pain relented. "Thanks."
Teyla dipped her head in acknowledgment and moved back to her fallen tree, itching to resume the journey but willing herself to wait without showing impatience. She tried to occupy her mind by observing their surroundings. This place was different now from when she and Kanan had first explored it, soon after her people had established their settlement on New Athos. From the temperature, she judged the season to be comparable to late autumn on the mainland of the original Lantea. It was a season she had always enjoyed, but here, autumn was oddly drab. During summer, the range of colors had been impressive, but now it was just one great monochromatic canvas of dull greens.
A crackling noise brought her out of her thoughts. Rodney had crumpled a Power Bar wrapper and was just biting off about a full half of the snack, as though he hadn't seen food in days. "Oh, sorry," he said, mouth full. "You want one? I have another."
"No, thank you," she said. "I am not yet hungry." She did, however, reach into her bag and retrieve her canteen. The water was cool on her tongue and she pretended that it could flush away her frustrations. There were so many that the pretense required a second drink.
"I had an early lunch," Rodney said sheepishly, waving the last remnant of his energy bar.
Screwing the cap back onto her canteen, she smiled slightly. "Well, if we resume our search, perhaps we can be back in Atlantis in time for dinner."
0o0o0
"How much farther?"
Teyla frowned slightly, examining the small clearing. "I am certain we are close."
"How close?"
"I cannot say with precision." In truth, she had been positive that this clearing was the place, but there were no plants of the type they were looking for anywhere nearby. She studied the large tree on the far side. It had a root that arched upward about six inches before plunging back into the ground. She remembered a protruding root from that day months ago; Kanan had been so engrossed in their conversation that his foot had caught on it, and he'd sprawled face-first into the grass. He'd spat dirt, grinned up into her laughing face, and caught her by the ankle, pulling it out from under her. She decided to allow herself to fall and landed next to his head. They'd looked like a "T" crossed by a hasty writer.
"Well, okay, you see," Rodney said, and she could hear that he was just getting warmed up, "I'm not really asking for precision, just a ballpark estimate. And by 'ballpark,' I mean something a little closer to reality than your estimate of where I needed to put down the jumper in order to be 'near' our destination."
"I thought the site was closer than it has turned out to be," she told him absently. "I am sorry I misjudged the distance." Yes, this seemed like the spot she remembered, but then so had two other clearings they had passed on the way here. And many of the indigenous trees seemed to sport roots that arched out of the ground.
"Apology accepted, but honestly, what I'm more interested in knowing now is whether you really even remember where the place actually is."
"Of course I remember!" Her vehemence surprised even her. She'd meant only to emphasize and had instead spat the words like an angry, frightened cat.
Rodney got that wounded, wide-eyed look again, the one that said I feel as if you've slapped me, and maybe I deserved it. All that he said, though, was "Okay," rather timidly.
Ignoring him, Teyla began to stalk around the clearing, refusing to blink as she scrutinized every single detail of the area. This was the place, she was almost certain, and yet there was no sign of the lush spread of flowering plants that had covered nearly half the perimeter of the clearing. She hadn't expected them to still be flowering, but there should be some sign of the plants, even if they had since died. They had simply been too plentiful to die off without leaving some trace of their existence.
All right, perhaps it wasn't the same place. She looked around and saw a faint path on the other side of the clearing. Pointing at it, she said, "Over there. I believe that path will lead us to the right spot."
"All right, just wait a second," Rodney said uncertainly, flinching when she turned on him with a glare. "I'm just thinking that we've already been searching for over three hours, which is about how long I had planned for the entire outing."
She too had not expected to spend this long locating the site of the plants, but Teyla was not prepared to call off the search. "We have come too far to give up now."
Mentally, she was disgusted with herself. How could she have forgotten the exact location of this, of all places? How could she have allowed this memory to become so indistinct?
She was already striding toward the path. Rodney hastened to catch up.
"Seriously, Teyla, we're losing daylight here. I think we should—"
"Losing daylight!" She barely recognized her own voice, dripping as it was with open disdain. "You sound as though we've… misplaced the sun. It is a ridiculous expression."
It was, too. One simply did not "lose" something as important as that which grants life.
"Fine, it's a ridiculous expression. That doesn't change the fact that we came all this way without provisions! We packed for a short walk through the woods, Teyla, not for a hearty day of trail-blazing."
"We have only a short distance before the next clearing."
"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you know that for sure."
"I do not care what you believe."
They were at the edge of the clearing, about to step onto the almost invisible path. Rodney planted his feet and crossed his arms. "I'm not going any farther," he said resolutely.
"That is fine with me," she told him, and stepped among the trees.
She could imagine him gazing after her, open-mouthed with outrage, and then rolling his head with a groan before following. Sure enough, she soon heard his grudging footsteps behind her.
0o0o0
"Oh look. It's another clearing. Another completely identical clearing in which there are – count 'em – no beds of flowers, living or dead. Who could have seen this coming? Oh right, that would be me."
She wanted to tell him to shut up, but he was more or less right. This clearing looked familiar, just as the others had, while bearing no trace of the plants that she remembered. Teyla shook her head, denying that she no longer knew where she was going or if she had already been there without recognizing it. That she could have let it slip away this completely was simply inconceivable.
She took a few steps in preparation for making a complete circuit of the clearing, only to trip over a root much as Kanan had that day. She stumbled, keeping her footing, but it was not easy. Suddenly, she noticed she was light-headed, and realized that she should have eaten at least a light snack by now.
A hand on her elbow startled her. Rodney had that look of concern for "her condition" again.
"Look, let's just call it a day, okay?"
"No. Not yet."
"Really, I'm okay with not finding the plant. It's no big deal."
"It is a 'big deal' to me." She brushed some hair out of her face.
"Why? We can come back another time and try again, if you want. Or, or, or I can just… come up with something else for Katie's birthday."
"No! I know that I can find them."
"Seriously, Teyla – they're just flowers."
"They are not 'just flowers'."
"Yeah, they are. They're not important to me. Honest."
"Not important?" Rationally, she knew it was not an insult, and yet she could not feel about it any other way. She found herself nearly ablaze with unexpected rage.
"Well, I mean sure, I'd like to find them, but if we don't, it's no big d—"
Her arm arced upward with speed and force, connecting her hand with his face in a slap that rang like the crack of a whip. Taken utterly by surprise, Rodney staggered two or three steps from the force of the blow. He put a hand to the wounded cheek and stared at her with a shocked and wary look, as though he had no idea what to expect from her next.
Stunned by her own unwarranted attack, Teyla reached out and took a step toward him, stopping when he stepped back to maintain the distance. She opened her mouth to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, or maybe to plead simple insanity, but a sudden wave of pure grief flooded her mind and heart. What came from her throat was a wordless wail of anguish that sapped her of the strength to stand, and she sank to her knees in the thin-bladed grass, pressing the heels of her hands against her cheekbones and gasping for the breath to wail again.
The second one took more out of her still, and the wail mutated into sobbing – hard, hacking sobs that rattled her ribcage. She curled into herself and became disoriented, feeling her body tipping over. But before she hit the ground, he was there, saying, "No, no, Teyla, no," and catching her in a tentative embrace, clearly worried how the physical contact would be received.
It is possible she could have straightened herself and pulled away, but having come this far in relinquishing her self-possession, it would have been a swim upstream against a strong current. Instead, she relaxed, letting her body melt against his, and wept into the front of his jacket. She'd half-expected him to be stiff, discomfited by her emotional state, but instead he wrapped her in protective, soothing arms, pulling her in as he sat on the ground beside her.
"It's all right," he murmured into her hair, running a hand up and down her arm from shoulder to elbow and rocking her gently. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."
He repeated the words over and over, continuing to stroke and rock her, and Teyla's surprise at this unexpected side of him transformed into recognition. Rodney is an older brother, she thought. The thought of him comforting a hurt or distraught Jeannie when they were both young was both heartbreaking and strangely calming.
She herself had grown up without siblings, and her destiny as a leader had forced her into presenting a strong front for others. Even at this point in her life, she found it difficult to conceive of being the one to lean, the one seeking comfort. And certainly, fond as she was of him, she wouldn't have naturally turned to Rodney, of all people, for that. But to confirm that she was still capable of seeking it at all seemed to lighten her burden somewhat, and knowing that she could count even on him, if necessary, brought a feeling of… reassurance. Safety.
Family.
Suddenly aware that she had finally stopped sobbing and that Rodney's murmuring had faded away, Teyla wiped tears from the cheek that wasn't pressed against his chest and then clutched his sleeve. "Oh Rodney, where did they go? How can they have just… vanished?"
"I don't know, Teyla. I really don't know."
"Do you think we will ever find them?"
Clearing his throat, Rodney said, "Honestly? I have no idea. But I can tell you this – we won't stop looking. That's the only thing, you know, that we can control: our own efforts. The outcome is, unfortunately, out of our hands."
She heard what he didn't say, the names he didn't speak, and felt a little ashamed. All day, she had treated him as an irritant, a means to an end as she searched for something she couldn't find. With all his complaints, his self-absorption, his many quirks, it was easy to forget that he also was burdened with losses and guilt, and that he would likely have flown her here, had she asked, even without the pretext of Katie's present.
She sighed, still resting against him, and felt one of his arms release her and his body shifting. "Um," he said, and she turned her head to look. He was holding a Power Bar up for her to see. "Not to tell you how you feel or anything, but it's been a long time since you ate."
Teyla straightened, nodding, and accepted the bar. "This was a foolish errand," she said, drying more tears, "and I owe you an apology."
"No, no," he said hastily, obviously uncomfortable.
"Yes."
"No, forget it. Don't even mention –"
"I should at least apologize for slapping you."
"Oh! Well, yeah, for that, sure." He touched his face delicately and winced. "Do you… are you ready to go back? To the jumper?"
Teyla looked around them, chewing thoughtfully. This might have been the clearing where she and Kanan had been together, or it might not. Did it really matter, since she could close her eyes and feel his hands tangled in her hair and hear the rumble in his chest as he chuckled softly in pleasure?
"Yes, I am ready to go back."
"Oh, thank God." Rodney got to his feet, groaning and pressing a hand to his back, but then immediately offered the hand to her. She allowed him to help her to her feet. When she was up and he made to release her hand, she made a point of holding on. He looked to her in surprise, blue eyes full of questions. Teyla gave a deliberate squeeze, and he smiled in shy acknowledgment.
They both turned to go back the way they had come. As they walked, she relaxed her hand, allowing him to choose, and was gratified that he let his fingers linger for a moment or two longer before pulling away.
"I'm really sorry we didn't find the plants," he said after a while.
She sighed. "You were right. They are just flowers."
"Well, like I said, we could come back and look again sometime."
"Perhaps."
"I mean, they're bound to show up again, right?"
"I'm sure they will. We will keep looking."
They walked in silence for a while, until Rodney stopped suddenly.
"Before, when you were…" He made an indistinct gesture. "And I was…" Another incomprehensible gesture followed. "And you asked how they could vanish, and I said we'd never stop looking…?"
She nodded, confused.
"We… We weren't talking about the flowers then, right?"
Rolling her eyes, she walked on past him.
"Well? I thought I should just make sure! I didn't want to find out later that I'd inadvertently committed myself to a lifelong quest to find some stupid plant."
"You may rest assured. I do not believe that I could endure that, myself."
"Probably n… Oh! That was sarcasm, wasn't it? You know, you're really unpredictable these days. Probably hormones."
"What would you know about such things?"
"Well, when I was back at Jeannie's after that whole kidnapping thing, I made a perfectly innocent remark about how anyone can bear a child, and she cornered me and harangued me for a good forty-five minutes about hormones and labor and every other gory pregnancy thing imaginable. By the time she let me go, I completely understood why trapped animals sometimes gnaw off their own limbs."
Teyla couldn't help herself. She laughed. Rodney expressed annoyance at her lack of empathy. She laughed again.
When they reached the jumper, he brightened and said, "Well, here we are, finally! Next stop: mess hall. I hope there's still some meatloaf left." She smiled back. Nothing brightened Rodney's mood quite like the thought of food.
As they settled into their seats, she wondered how to tell him that his face bore a well-defined welt in the shape of a hand. Oh well. They'd figure something out.
After all… they were family.