Title: Cold's Comfort
Summary: The cold reminded John Sheppard that he was alive.
Characters: Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla
Pairing: Sheppard/Teyla
Rating: K
Notes: Written for the Gateworld JT secret Santa, for Wedjatqi
The cold reminded Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard that he was alive. After the heat of Afghanistan, the cold of the Antarctic had been a biting reality, reminding him that he had survived. After the heat of the planet with the downed Wraith ship, the cool of Atlantis had reminded him that, unlike Gaul and the other scientists, he was alive. After the running-for-his-life induced heat after leaving Elizabeth behind, the cold grip of the icy puddle jumper had reminded him that he was alive.
All times when he wasn't sure he should be; didn't think he deserved to be.
But now, standing on the balcony outside of his quarters on Atlantis, he can't help but feel the winter's grip of Atlantis as a blessing. The frozen air hung in crystals before his eyes, dancing around in the delicate breeze that ruffled his hair and he breathed out a heavy, almost happy sigh.
The heat of the infirmary lights had been stifling and when he'd refused to budge from his position next to Teyla's bed, Carson had drugged him and had two burly Marines carry him back to his quarters. And then he'd locked the door, having contracted Rodney to over ride his control commands. The City had seemed smug as John had radioed – futilely – to anyone who would listen that he had been kidnapped and was trapped in dark room somewhere near the east pier. He'd thought of climbing the walls again, like he had when they'd been quarantined, but Atlantis had seemed to sense his thoughts and only allowed him onto very select parts of the balcony.
John huffed.
He should be in the infirmary with her, not stuck out here while they did God knows what to her. Or while she went through so much pain. He sighed and leaned back against the railing, staring up to the central tower as he watched the stars flicker in and out of focus behind diaphanous clouds. He tried to guess which room she was in but as his eyes strained, he gave up.
Atlantis seemed to be mocking him as the lights above him flickered in and out, in and out. She seemed to take great delight in blocking him from the system, not allowing him to access the information from the infirmary with his mind. In his mind, he cursed her. Out loud, he cursed Carson. He hadn't ever been quite comfortable enough telling other people of his connection to the city.
He sighed and cast one last glance up to the control tower before heading indoors away from the biting cold. Inside, he tried the door again in the hopes that someone had taken pity on his pleas but it remained stubbornly sealed and he remained annoyingly alone. He hated not being there for her.
He held her hair back as she sobbed over the sink, as the putrid stench of early morning sickness tapered up to his nose. She was flushed – or embarrassed, he couldn't quite tell – as she turned back to him, reaching for his toothbrush. He frowned at that, realising he'd need to get another one after this.
"I am sorry."
He shook his head and cast a quick smile in her direction as he turned on the tap to drain away the remnants in the sink.
"I was the one who gave you the wine."
She glared at him even as she smiled and Sheppard knew things were going to be okay.
He'd felt worse as the week had worn on and she'd only gotten sicker. He remembered lying awake in bed as she tossed and turned beside him, sighing as she shifted onto her front, her back, her side and back to her front to start the routine all over again. He'd thought of calling Carson but didn't want to have to answer the questions that would no doubt arise about his presence in her room at such a time of night.
She'd ended up going to Carson herself, calling him on the radio to join her when Carson sat her down and explained a few things to her.
He remembered not saying anything as she'd explained a few things to him, remembered how his reaction had been to stand up and walk away. How he'd ran and ran and ran along piers and corridors and up flights of stairs arriving at the door of her room, hours later.
Understandably, she'd been angry. But he'd been surprised. Surprised but not upset, as he'd explained to her. Surprised but so unbelievably terrified that he just didn't know what to do.
He'd never thought he'd wanted kids.
Not until she told him she was pregnant.
He smiled at the memory, the slightest hint of nostalgia to the half grin that lit his face. He dropped his head to his arms and closed his eyes, trying to tune into the city to find out if she was okay.
Then the doors opened and Ronon took a step into the room, his gaze finding Sheppard on the floor, staring up at him expectantly.
"I have a niece."
John let out a small laugh on a breath, felt the gentlest prickling of tears at the corner of his eye and he dropped his head back against the wall, staring out at the sky beyond. He closed his eyes, letting a warm tear leak down his cheek and he knew that Ronon wouldn't judge him.
"That's good," he said quietly as he swiped at his cheek, staring up to Ronon as the taller man stood over him. "Is..."
"They're fine." John nodded. "They're both fine." John gripped onto the hand he offered, let Ronon pull him up. "Let's go see your daughter."
John took a moment to revel in the sound of that.
His daughter.
Ronon clapped him on the shoulder and laughed, the sound vibrating through John, sending a warm jolt through his system.
His daughter.
He kind of liked the sound of that.