Bless Me Father for I Have Sinned
by
Spacegates
Rating: K+
Category: General, Angst, Team friendship
Disclaimer: SGA and their characters are not mine, how sad.
A/N: A few years ago, I saw a scene where the hero of a TV show took shelter in a church. That scene somehow stuck in my mind and the plot bunnies appeared, resulting in the tale below about a recuperating Sheppard taking shelter in a church to escape the world for a while. This tale has some spiritual and religious aspects to it, so if you don't like it please don't read. Whatever your beliefs are, please have respect enough not to insult mine. Also some liberties have been taken regarding Sheppard's past.
-O-
Father Donahue silently observed the dark haired, lean man in the military uniform who had been sitting in the deserted church staring at the large crucifix hanging behind the altar for almost two hours now. Mass had ended a few hours ago, and during the ceremony, the elderly priest had not spotted the officer among his parishioners, so it was easy to deduce that his visitor came in some time later. He had heard the door of his parish open two hours ago while he had been doing some work in the sacristy. Taking a quiet peek he now spotted the dark haired man in the military uniform seated in the front row of the empty seats. Occasionally, the military officer's gaze would go to the flickering candles lined at the sides of the Blessed Sacrament and intermittently his hazel eyes would close as if in sadness. It was apparent that the man was troubled over something; depressed and evidently lost in the world of his own. Air Force, a Colonel. Donahue noted wordlessly to himself, recognizing the uniform and the emblems of rank on the man's attire. Robert, his nephew served in the US Air Force, so he recognized the rank and uniform well enough having met Robert's CO. Even from his distance, the priest could spot the sheen of sweat on the officer's hairline sliding down the side of his lean face as if the man had a fever. On his left forehead was a butterfly strip, displaying an ugly bruise near his eyebrow. Once in a while the officer would move and grimace as if in pain, and his hand would go to his left side under his unbuttoned military Air Force jacket. He's wounded, the priest thought to himself feeling the emotion of concern rise deep within his chest.
Two hours, this young officer has been sitting here for two hours. At first Donahue hadn't wanted to disturb the younger man. Having served in various parishes for forty odd years, the elderly priest was astute enough to know when someone just wanted to be left alone to be with one's thoughts. So, he had left the Colonel there, but now he was beginning to wonder whether the military officer might need someone to talk to. Does he want the rite of reconciliation, perhaps? Donahue might be old, but he was still sharp enough to observe that the officer's gaze would occasionally flick across to the closed confessional door. There was nobody in there at the moment.
Running a hand across his gray hair, the old priest said a silent prayer to himself before taking a brief glance towards the church ceiling as he asked for the grace to say the right thing. As he moved, his felt the pain and ache of his old bones protest in his body. Damn rheumatism, he thought to himself. Then he remembered who he was and apologized silently, Ah, Lord forgive me if I curse a bit. He saw the officer's stance go immediately rigid and the dark unruly head moved ever so slightly towards him indicating that the man was aware of his presence. Injured or not, his senses are sharp. Father Donahue thought to himself. This one had obviously been through a lot and the hurt ran deeper than the physical injuries alone.
He extended his footsteps, ignoring the pain in his joints and smiled kindly at the Colonel sitting alone in his parish. "Is there anything troubling you, my son?" he asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"
There, he had made the first opening; the rest would be up to the silent officer before him. For a moment, the tight control the Colonel had slipped and the elderly priest saw intelligent hazel eyes filled with pain and weariness lift up to look at him. The younger man before him paused, hesitating as if wondering whether he should take up the offer. Finally, a wry and somewhat embarrassed smile appeared on the soldier's lips as the Colonel shook his head.
"I haven't been to Confession for over twenty five years, Father. There are too many sins to ask for God's forgiveness… Too many..." There was a look of sadness in the Colonel's face and Donahue saw him look down at a set of dog tags held intertwined in between the fingers of his hand. The dark haired man gripped them tighter and the knuckles around his hand went white.
"God is forever merciful and forgiving, my son. He always welcomes back remorseful souls despite their sins as long as they are willing to turn to Him for comfort," Father Donahue replied gently. He looked at the dog tags the other held. He knew what they represented, what they must mean to the man sitting before him. "A friend of yours?" he asked gently.
The military officer with the unruly hair tensed, then he closed his eyes and a sad smile formed on his lips. "Someone under my command. A kid too naïve and too damned young to die."
"Death is never easy, my son, especially when they are taken young from us," Donahue replied softly saying a silent prayer for the soul of the one whom the dog tags belonged to.
There was a sound, and the parish door suddenly burst opened and a slightly chubby man with receding dark brown hair wearing a white shirt and a dark gray jacket poked his head into the church. As his gaze zeroed in on the Colonel sitting there, a wide smile of relief lighted up his features.
"Sheppard! There you are! Have you been here all this time?! We've been looking everywhere for you since you disappeared from the wake after the funeral service! I practically had to stop Ronon from breaking down residential doors in the streets! Teyla, Ronon! I found him! He's in the church!"
It was then that Father Donahue realized that the shorter, stockier man also harbored an injury, as he hobbled in with a cane, not caring about how much noise he made. The cane rattled noisily on the cold stone floor tiles as he made his way hurriedly to the dark haired Colonel. The old priest noted that this man was obviously civilian not military. Family? He wondered, yet these two did not appear alike. They must be friends then. Close ones by the looks of it at how the other just barged in without so much of a "How do you do?"
The dark haired Colonel turned to look at the other man before an annoyed look of weariness fluttered across his pale features.
Ah… So, his name is Sheppard. Donahue thought to himself. He took a little step back now, allowing the two men to interact, not wanting to be in the way or disturb the two from their conversation.
"I just needed a moment by myself, McKay. It's not that I'm an invalid or need a minder!"
"Excuse me? Did my ears hear you right? Did you just say a moment? Ding-ding! Hello?! You've been missing for two friggin' hours! Any minute longer and we'll be phoning all the hospitals and sending out massive search parties to go out looking for you! One moment Teyla, Ronon and I are distracted and you vanish from the wake like a Houdini act! You do realize that you've only just been released from the infirmary, don't you? Carson made us promise to make sure you didn't over do it when he allowed you to return for the funeral service. You know the deal Sheppard. Heck, you were at Death's door when we got you back!"
"So I've been reminded every five minutes by you guys, McKay." This time the voice sounded exasperated and tired.
Donahue saw McKay's blue eyes widen as the other man spotted what the Colonel held. "Hey… you're still not blaming yourself over what happened are you? You had to do it. The kid was a goner just like Sumner."
"Glad to see your powers of observation are so astute, McKay." The sarcasm was light but Donahue could see that McKay was obviously used to it for he sat himself down onto the seat next to Sheppard without asking permission. From what he heard of the conversation, Donahue was beginning to understand a little of what troubled the military officer so.
"Hmm, I never figured you to be a church going type, Sheppard." Except for a grimace, there was silence and Sheppard did not say anything. McKay looked at Sheppard then back up at the large crucifix hanging behind the parish altar. He suddenly turned and looked up at Donahue as if only just realizing that there was someone else standing silently there watching them.
"Who are you?" he asked looking at the priest with an impolite and surprised stare.
"I'm Father Donahue and this is my parish," the old priest introduced himself with a friendly smile.
"The Father and I were having a conversation before you impolitely interrupted us, McKay," Sheppard stated a little rudely.
McKay ignored his friend as blue eyes locked onto the old priest's gaze. "Hmm, well nice to meet you." However no hand was extended as the man quickly turned his attention back to Sheppard. Then he shook his head and a small frown formed as he turned his gaze towards the altar again. However, McKay was obviously like a dog with a bone for he refused to give up on his point.
"You know, there was nothing else that you could have done, don't you? You practically got yourself killed trying to save him."
"Yet, I didn't save him, McKay!" Sheppard retorted. This time his voice broke faintly with the slightest tremor. In it, Father Donahue heard evidence of pain and anger. He was sure that the one called McKay heard it too. "History repeated itself, just like it did with Sumner!"
However, Sheppard's companion was not willing to let his friend wallow in self-pity and he argued back. "Yes, well, but you did save my life! Which means like it or not, it's my turn to look out for you..."
There were more footsteps now. Turning around, the priest saw a dark, slim and pretty young woman approaching them. A tall, muscular and broad-shouldered man with dreadlocks and facial hair accompanied her closely. These two must be Teyla and Ronon, Father Donahue suddenly realized, recalling the names that McKay had mentioned earlier. Somehow, despite their civilian clothing, these two reminded the priest of warriors. It was the way they moved, in a lethal and agile sort of way. The tall one however with the dreadlocks made the old priest feel rather nervous.
"John? Are you alright?" the young woman asked in concern as she reached out a gentle hand to touch the dark haired officer's shoulder. He saw the other lift his head, looking up at the people surrounding him.
"Yeah," Sheppard replied wryly, the look of pain the old priest saw there earlier was now hidden.
This was an odd bunch to come for the injured Colonel. He had expected someone from the military to come for the officer, not a bunch of civilians. The tall one with the dreadlocks was now eying him suspiciously, increasing the unease that the old priest felt for that one.
"It wasn't your fault, Sheppard," Ronon turned back and looked at the Colonel, voicing his opinion in a low growl, much to Donahue's surprise.
"Yes, John. We all saw what you did to save the Lieutenant. You did the best you could even though you were sorely wounded yourself." The slim woman with the dark complexion observed softly. "And you did save Dr. McKay's life."
"You did the right thing," the tall one added.
"Yes!" McKay agreed, "I'll be wraith chow with if it weren't for you."
"McKay!"
This time Father Donahue saw the Colonel's hazel eyes burn as he shot a cautionary glare at his companion.
"Oh…" the other man bumbled, "Sorry, you know what I meant, enemy chow. Can't help it if I think them as wraiths, they sure are creepy enough…"
Wraiths? Donahue thought quietly to himself. The Colonel's companion certainly had a wild imagination.
"But we had better return back to you-know-where before Carson starts getting puppies," McKay continued. "And in case you didn't know, you look like crap, Sheppard."
"Well, thank you, Rodney. As if Mr-walking-like-a-duck-man looks any better with a busted knee." Sheppard retorted back, yet his tone held light banter as he gave his companion another sarcastic look. These two were obviously used to each other's come-backs as Rodney argued back that he did not walk like a duck but that Sheppard looked more like the walking dead.
Sheppard ignored him as he suddenly turned his hazel gaze towards Father Donahue. This time, the old priest no longer saw the shadow of dark depression in them.
"My team, Father," the officer explained with a wry smile. "Can't live without them."
"Your team?" Donahue asked in surprise.
The Colonel smiled warmly as he looked at his team. "Yeah, well, sometimes even the military needs civilians to help out with certain missions, like a genius scientist with a big ego and two good and reliable companions."
"Hey!" McKay protested. "Genius yes! Big ego I must protest to!"
Sheppard chuckled and Father Donahue found himself chuckling along with him. "So…You'll be fine now?" he asked.
The Colonel nodded as he looked at his team who was surrounding and watching him with concern written on their features. These people obviously regard him highly and care for him, the old priest thought to himself.
"Yeah," Sheppard replied. "I'll be fine. I'm in good hands now." And with those words, the Colonel stood up to leave with the support of his team. The old priest had no doubt that what he said was true.
A smile now lighted Sheppard's features making him appear much younger than his years. He turned to walk out of the church gingerly, his hand gripping his wounded side cautiously. He took two steps before he stumbled, grunting slightly in pain. Instantly his team was around him, supporting him, making sure that he was alright. When he regained his balance, he paused and turned back to Donahue.
"You know, Father. Perhaps one day I'll come back and take up your offer of confession."
Donahue smiled. "I'll be right here my son. God is patient and can wait."
The Colonel nodded and returned the smile before he turned away, this time allowing the big guy with the dreadlocks to support him as McKay hobbled next to him, while the young woman helped the scientist with the cane.
"Well, maybe you don't walk like duck Rodney, but how about a three legged sea-gull?" He heard Sheppard say to the scientist.
"John, doesn't a sea gull have only two legs?" Teyla asked in puzzlement.
"Exactly!"
"Hey! Not fair! Stop picking on the scientist just because I'm using a cane!"
"You started it first, Rodney. You said I looked like crap!"
"Well, it's the truth!"
"Still it's impolite to tell the one who had saved your life that he looks like crap."
"Okay, then… how about … bo-" The voices faded off into the distance, making Father Donahue chuckle softly to himself. They were certainly four very unique individuals, yet to the elderly priest, they seemed right together.
An odd bunch, Father Donahue thought to himself. He would probably never know the full story of what happened and he wondered whether he would even meet the Colonel again. Yet, somehow, he knew that Colonel Sheppard would be alright for he had three good companions looking after him. They seemed to care for each other with genuine concern, reminding him of a close-knit family. Who knows perhaps in a strange way, they were. With a smile on his lips, he turned and took one last glance at the large crucifix hanging on the wall behind the altar. Then he left with a silent prayer of thanksgiving on his lips for the bonds of friendship and caring that he had just witnessed. Not everyone in this world, he knew, was lucky enough to have that.
The End