Stargate Atlantis -:- First Christmas
Summary:
As Christmas fever manages to reach even the Pegasus galaxy; John Sheppard reflects on past celebrations and the prospect of Torren's first proper Christmas in Atlantis
Setting/Pairings:
Midway through the hypothetical season 6; Atlantis has returned to the Pegasus galaxy (Any theory you have will probably fit, so I'll leave that to you)/This is also in the same universe as The Collective so yes, there will be Sheyla!
Genre/Rating:
Family/Fluff/Humour/Rated K
Disclaimer:
If I owned Stargate Atlantis there would have actually been the Xmas specials I will be describing in this fic – there would have been Halloween and Easter specials as well!
Author's Note(s):
MERRY CHRISTMAS! Ahem...
As mentioned, this is following my previous fic The Collective – it is not the sequel (that's still in the pre-planning stage) and as this is a one-off it's not really necessary to read it first (though I wouldn't mind :P)
This is a major break from my usual style of writing (no one gets shot…) but I couldn't resist the urge to write a sweet little Christmas story! I have, however, given you a pre-whumped Sheppard because I couldn't resist lol
Anyway, enough of my rambling – Enjoy!
First Christmas
It was a disaster zone.
Teyla had never witnessed such destruction and chaos in her life – and she had been with John Sheppard for nearly a year. There was paper scattered all across Atlantis' grand floors, but through some miracle of toddler logic the pre-Christmas present of poster paint from Major Lorne had managed to get everywhere other than the paper. The two paint-splattered culprits that sat in the middle of the devastation looked up at her sheepishly as she entered.
"John Sheppard, what have you done to my son?"
As she stood there with her hands on her hips and her stern mother expression firmly fixed on her face, John had the audacity to grin at her. She felt her mild irritation melt in an instant, but she kept up the act - someone had to be tough on the juvenile, and she wasnt referring to Torren. He gestured at his paint-splattered uniform and then at the previously white cast on his leg. "I think the better question is: what has your son done to me?"
Torren took that moment to giggle smugly and throw more paint at the Lt. Colonel, who held up his brightly coloured hands in surrender. Before she could even think to stop herself, Teyla was laughing along, her role as the discipliner in this family unit immediately undermined. She closed the distance between them and came to sit down next to John on the floor, placing a quick kiss on his lips as she did so. Torren returned to his redecorating of Atlantis' halls, and John wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
It was hard to believe that it had taken them so long to finally realise the feelings that had been obvious since they had first met. She could still remember the smile he had given her as he talked casually of Ferris wheels and other Earth things, easily breaking through the tension of a first meeting. He claimed to be a terrible diplomat, but he was charming and charismatic and Teyla had fallen hard for him at first sight. It was a shame that it had taken her going to Kanaan for comfort and then effectively breaking the man's heart after a strained relationship and a child. But that was in the past, and all that mattered now was the future.
Teyla smiled at her son and his continuing antics then gently prodded John in the ribs with a half-smile to rival his own. "You are too soft on him, John. He was not meant to open his presents until tomorrow."
"He wanted to sign my cast like the others had," John shrugged as if that explained everything. The messages of 'get well soon' were now completely obliterated by a thick layer of paint, but Teyla knew the writers wouldn't mind – they'd probably just take mick out of the now rainbow coloured cast. It had been a few weeks since John had broken his leg while they were off-world on a trading mission gone badly wrong, and it would be a few months yet until he was cleared again for active duty. In the meantime he was restricted to admin and babysitting, something that would usually have him going stir crazy but for now he didn't seem to mind.
Teyla shook her head with a mock eye-roll, making John's grin widen. He pulled her closer and gave her a deeper kiss that had her forgiving any and all sins he had ever committed. She only pulled away when she felt something wet on the back of her hand and realised that Torren had taken to painting her. She leaned over John to place a kiss on her son's head, and then pushed herself up and onto her feet. She didn't miss the disappointed look on John's face, and replied with a look that promised they'd continue later, once Torren was abed.
"I have to go and oversee the last minute preparations," she explained. She glanced once again at the demolition derby that surrounded them. "I trust that you will have this cleaned up before Mr Woolsey sees and has a heart attack?"
John quirked an eyebrow. "No promises."
A few hours after Teyla had left, Torren finally showed signs of sleepiness and the mess was marginally less…well, less heart-attack-inducing. John rolled down his trouser leg to cover up the no longer pristine cast and then hauled himself to his feet and grabbed his crutches. Torren followed suit, abandoning what was left of his paints for John to tidy up later, and then holding on to the right crutch to keep him on his unsteady feet. He'd caught on quickly that John couldn't carry him and had doubled his attempts at walking.
It was later than John had hoped that Torren would finally slow down, and Atlantis' halls were eerily quiet. Only the insomniacs and the night crew would be around now, and they would be in the central tower. The pair of them took a transporter to the crew quarters and made the short walk/hobble to Teyla's room.
Honestly, it was John and Teyla's room now, but John still kept his own quarters for his stuff. The rooms weren't really big enough for a family of three. He waved his hand over the door control and led the sleepwalking Torren inside. Seemingly on autopilot, the toddler made his way to the nest in the corner of the room and literally collapsed into it, asleep before he'd finished his surrender to gravity. John followed, crouching as best he could with his broken leg, and tucked the small bundle in, leaning down to give him a kiss. He would need a bath in the morning, but that could wait.
The paint on his uniform was dry, so John copied Torren and dropped onto his side of the bed he shared with Teyla, letting his crutches hit the deck with a clatter that didn't even make Torren stir. He glanced at the clock on the bedside cabinet. It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve; in only a few minutes it would be their sixth Christmas in Atlantis.
That was a bittersweet thought, John mused as he turned to stare at the patterns in the ceiling. Christmas was one of those times that was meant to be happy but more often than not just brought back painfully raw memories. He remembered the family Christmases back in Maryland when both his parents had still been alive. Now they had been interesting; the very epitome of the perfect family Christmas, complete with more arguments and fallings-out that John cared to remember.
When he had joined the Air Force this had been his least favourite time of the year. Things had always been strained with his father, but for his mother's sake he had always come home for Christmas. That was until she died and he no longer had anything to come home for. That was nearly eight years ago now. That had been the last time he had spoken to his father, and the last time he had seen his brother until the funeral.
But then he had come to Pegasus and found himself a new family and home that felt more real than Maryland and the Sheppard family business ever had. Their first Christmas in Atlantis had been Ford's idea; the kid practically bouncing with excitement when he had suggested it at a meeting not long after the Storm and the Genii's attempted takeover. Elizabeth had been all too quick to agree, wanting to boost morale, and reluctantly John had suckered in. He had delegated the task of explaining to Teyla what Christmas and its many variations were to Ford – it had been hilarious to watch. Ultimately, it had been a great day and for the first time since they had got there, everyone on the expedition had relaxed. For the first time, John had actually enjoyed Christmas.
But now Ford was gone. He was just a kid who had literally lit up like a Christmas tree that morning when the gifts had been exchanged – and now he was just gone.
John shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to bury the rush of guilt and sadness that had crept up on him with that memory. On the floor, a few metres to his right, Torren seemed to mimic him, rolling over with a grunt before relaxing back into his gentle snores. Less than ten minutes, and Christmas would be here again.
The second year Christmas had been difficult. It wasn't long after the last time John had seen Ford alive, and the guilt had still been a fresh wound then. John had played the role of Scrooge while everyone else had strived for normalcy. That year Elizabeth had conned Caldwell into bringing them a proper tree from Earth and the expedition had exchanged presents from their home countries rather than joke Pegasus trade goods. John had missed it all, locked in his quarters secretly nursing a bottle of bourbon he'd swindled from Zelenka. At one point, Rodney had joined him, but John couldn't recall what they had talked about. Teyla had taken on the mammoth task of explaining Christmas to Ronon, and life had gone on.
The third year had been Elizabeth's last Christmas. She had turned it into a joint celebration of their return to Atlantis after the Replicator take-over as well as a Christmas bash. She had given John a firm talking to on Christmas Eve, telling him that he wasn't allowed a repeat of the year before. Reluctantly, John had promised to be present the next morning and honestly, he was glad he had. For a few hours he had been able to forget about the Wraith and the Replicators and every other threat looming on their doorstep. He had seen Elizabeth genuinely smile for the first time since her brush with the nanites.
But now Elizabeth was gone as well.
John rolled onto his side and buried his head into the pillow as if that would somehow erase the image of her face when she had told him to leave her. The slight flicker of abandonment he had caught when he actually had, Ronon half-dragging him away. This was why he hated Christmas – he always found himself trudging through the past, reopening wounds that should have been old scars by now.
The following year, Sam Carter had done everything she could to make Christmas as special as Elizabeth had. They had just defeated the Replicators, and things were finally looking up. But this was their first Christmas without Carson; and Rodney had taken it hard. It was John's turn to show up in his quarters with a bottle of whiskey and the pair of them had missed Christmas in favour of drowning their sorrows. So that was another year where no happy memories were made.
Daniel Jackson had stayed in Atlantis for their fifth Christmas. They had just defeated the last of the Asgards and Woolsey had asked him to stay as he recovered. This had honestly been Torren's first Christmas, but Teyla had taken him to New Athos for an Athosian celebration that John hadn't understood, and he had felt incredibly alone without her. And this was before they had finally admitted their feelings for each other. Woolsey's Christmas had been a corporate affair that hadn't gone down to well with the majority of the expedition; and the day had passed with little happening.
That had been their first five Christmases in Atlantis. It was bittersweet – some of the best times intertwined with some of the most painful memories and losses John could remember. Not for the first time, John ran through the casualty list of every year of the expedition from the beginning. He could remember every name; and every face: both in life and death.
He must have been lost in his own mind because he did not hear Teyla's entrance until she was pressed against his back; her arm wrapped around him as if she knew his thoughts and wanted to offer comfort. He rolled onto his back so that she could lie on his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. He began stroking her hair as he turned to glance at the clock one final time.
Christmas Day had come again.
There was a Christmas tree at the top of the gate room steps; all of Torren's presents waiting underneath. It had been agreed that the one and only actual child in Atlantis should get that privilege, everyone else would just exchange presents as they had every year before. The entire expedition had found a way to all fit in the space that honestly wasn't big enough; the noise practically deafening as everyone called excitedly to each other. Some people had actually taken to throwing (hopefully non-breakable) presents to each other as there was no room to manoeuvre with everyone there.
A little space was cleared around the tree though, and Torren ran towards it, ducking between people's legs in his desperation. He may not have understood the idea of Christmas, but he sure understood the part where presents for him were waiting underneath the big green triangle. Teyla and John had a slightly harder time navigating the crowd, but thankfully Rodney and Jennifer were already there, forcing Torren to wait for them. The one-and-a-half year old did not look pleased by the delay.
The moment they were there he didn't even wait for their assent, he immediately dived into the pile of brightly coloured boxes, emerging with one that was poorly wrapped and suspiciously covered in paint. Teyla threw John a look but he innocently shrugged, leaning against a clear space of wall. Torren rushed up to his mother, proffering her the mutant gift with a bright smile on his face. "What is this sweetie? For me?"
Grinning, Teyla crouched down next to Torren and began unwrapping the flat, rectangular shaped present. The little boy was practically bouncing with excitement, his presents apparently forgotten while he waited for his mother's reaction. Once free of the paper, it was revealed to be a painting of some kind – though Teyla could not tell what it was, she could tell that Torren was proud of it, and she was even more so. She pulled him into a tight hug, gave him a kiss then turned him around to face the tree. "Thank you sweetie; now go open yours!"
Torren did not need telling twice. He jumped back into the fray without a second look back, Jennifer immediately joining him with a young grin to match his own. Rodney followed a few seconds later, sitting cross legged on the ground without a single complaint about future spinal problems.
Teyla stood and watched them for a moment, before going to stand beside John. In a conspiratorial whisper she held up the painting "Do you know what it is?"
"Not a clue," John replied with a smile, transferring a crutch so that he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. "I just told him about the 'giving' part of the whole present thing and he declared that he wanted to make you something. That's why I let him open Lorne's present."
Teyla had suspected as much, but it was still a lovely surprise. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they watched the mad present dash happening around them. "This is the best Christmas so far."
John thought of all the Christmases before, and all the people that they had lost, wondering if they could see this now. With a sad smile, he whispered against her hair.
"Definitely."
And that was it, my attempt at Christmas fluff (which if we're honest, really turned into Xmas angst...) with a whole bunch of Sheyla thrown in for good measure! I hope you have enjoyed and that you all have a very Merry Christmas!
And as a little note to readers of my WIP fic Endgame: I am still writing, I just haven't had the time to update! I will do so as soon as I can! :P
