Title: Trust In Fear
Summary: John doesn't think he'd be able to handle it if Teyla was afraid of him. But she trusts him. And that scares him.
Spoilers: Season 4 - Doppelganger
Pairing: Teyla/ Sheppard
Rating: K

Trust In Fear

He fiddled with the book in his hand, not really reading the words on the page, his mind wandering over the events of the past few days. His mind was stuck on the fact that he'd killed Heightmeyer; okay maybe he hadn't actually killed her but it was his fault that she was dead. It was his fault that Rodney had almost died. It was his fault that Teyla was afraid of him.

And that, he would never admit aloud, was what was really aching his brain. He was upset with the idea he'd caused Heightmeyer's death and he'd admit he felt a little more guilty over the fact that he just didn't care about that as much as the thought of Teyla being afraid of him.

He didn't think he'd be able to bear it if she was scared of him.

When she'd shown up at his quarters he'd been surprised to say the least. He'd pondered over going to her quarters for an hour or so, rising from his bed in determination only making it so far as the door before trudging back to the bed in dejection. He had been convinced she wouldn't want to see him so her being there, wrapping her arms around him had been… surprising.

Nicely surprising.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and when he looked up he saw her coming towards him on the balcony with her hands fumbling over one another.

"I couldn't sleep."

He looked her over, taking in the tired eyes, her hunched back… the way the jacket seemed to cling to her curves. He glanced back up at her face with a quick shake of the head before acknowledging that he too had been unable to sleep.

She sat down tentatively and he noticed how she didn't sit across from him or next to him like she normally did. He didn't acknowledge the absurd pang of jealousy he felt for the empty chair next to her.

God, he was being childish, being jealous of a chair because it got to sit next to her and he didn't.

Silence descended and John glanced out to the inky depths of night. The city lights had been dimmed, the outer piers in blackness but the moons gentle rays created a diaphanous milky film that stretched across the sea to the end of the horizon. He loved nights like this when the sky was clear and the stars shone brightly in the black sky, reflecting perfectly on the obsidian like sea.

He sighed and looked away from the spectacle and turned his eyes back to Teyla only to find hers staring at him with a curious look on her face. He frowned and ducked his head slightly to look up at her through a fringe of eyelashes and hair.

"What?" He murmured quietly, laying the booklet on the table in front of him. He saw her start at his voice and quickly avert her gaze on some point behind his gaze.

He might have imagined the blush that rose up her cheeks.

He looked away, too.

He fingered the pages in front of him and concentrated on not leaping across the table and finishing what she had been so close to starting earlier. He closed his eyes against the image of her in his arms, her fingers toying with the hair at the back of his neck…

He jerked his head hoping to dislodge the image.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at her and smiled before nodding.

"I think I should be the one asking you that question," he countered with a quick smirk. She conceded with a nod but said nothing. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes glanced into his for a moment and in that instant he felt like he'd simply drown in the waves of emotion that her eyes were pouring at him. It was unusual for him to see such emotion in her eyes and he tried to stop his body's urge to clear his throat and look away. Instead he held her gaze and tried to smile encouragingly.

She opened her mouth to speak but faltered for a few seconds.

"I will be."

Instinctively, he reached his hand out and covered hers with it. He felt her tense at the touch and he moved to pull away from her, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through him at her rejection but she quickly grasped his fingers halting their retreat.

They both glanced to their fingers and John marvelled at the differences there. Even though Teyla was a warrior, her skin was as soft as that of a baby's, while his was rough and calloused. He interlinked their fingers but didn't look back up at her when he felt her questioning stare burning holes in the top of his head.

"Teyla… you have to know that…" He trailed off not really knowing what he was trying to say.

"It's all right, John. You do not have to say anything."

He glanced up at her then momentarily before nodding his head.

"But I want to." He glanced at her again uncertainly and he felt his heart restrict at the sight of her tolerating smile. He felt heat swim through him when she squeezed his fingers. He returned the gesture before pulling her hand closer to his body. "You know that I would never hurt you Teyla, no matter what was happening." His mind went back to when he'd been mutating into a creature after being infected with the retro-virus; he'd disabled the security team sent to immobilise him but when he'd seen Teyla he'd been unable to harm her.

They fell into a heavy silence then and John heaved a sigh before glancing away in embarrassment. He wished he could disappear into the thick dark night around them.

"I trust you." He looked back to her then and tried to withdraw his fingers. She held fast. "I did not mean to hurt you." He frowned. "By pulling away from you." He nodded comprehendingly and she smiled at him. It was her turn to look away. "Also, I wanted to apologise…"

He shook his head vehemently.

"No, there's no need."

"I believe there is. I should not have run from you as I did." Well, that wasn't what he'd expected her apology to be about. He thought it would be about what happened before she'd run away. "I wanted that… in fact, I think I needed it and running from you… That is why I could not sleep."

"Teyla I don't…"

He felt her fingers pull out of his as she sat back in her chair; for a moment he was confused until he heard Rodney's voice. He wanted to ask what she meant by 'I wanted that'. He wanted to know why she couldn't sleep. Was it because she, like him, was thinking of the possible conclusion to her actions? Or because she felt guilty about running from him?

"Yeah, we couldn't sleep either."

She glanced at him and he wondered if it was tiredness or because he wanted it to mean something else that he couldn't decipher what her soft smile meant.

Sometimes he wanted to kill Rodney.