Disclaimers: I own no part of the Stargate world, I make no money from this and I wish that I could make money from having such fun.
Note: Surprisingly, despite how much I loved this episode, I struggled with a fic to go with it. This is all I could come up with, and since I have developed an infection in a wisdom tooth, my brain has been rather filled with pain and painkillers! This fic was inspired by the fact that Teyla didn't wear her uniform to visit the Shrine – I ran with the idea a little.
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She had not worn the coat for a long time, and had to shake it out lightly before she pulled it on. Its warmth engulfed her, bringing with it so many memories of rituals and ceremonies repeated over the years. But, this was the first time she had worn it for an event such as today's.
Pushing that thought aside for a time, Teyla busied herself shrugging the coat into place and buttoning up its long length. It was a good coat – warm, meaningful, and yet rather unwanted at this time. She was dressing for Rodney's death.
She stepped up before her long mirror and looked at her reflection, checking everything was in place.
The reflection of her empty quarters filled the space behind her. Kanaan had taken Torren for a walk to give her this time alone to prepare for the trip to the Shrine of Talus. It was a site well known among their people, and she knew several people who had taken family members there for their last day of lucidity.
It was that last day, one day, in which Rodney would be himself again. She held onto that fact, hoping it would overwhelm the pain and sense of impending loss she felt.
She blinked away touches of tears from her eyes, and brushed down her coat again, focusing on that task and not on the one to come.
It was an honour to go with Rodney for this trip, and she knew that his death there would be far more honourable, as Ronon put it, than the one that would face him if he were to remain in the Infirmary in the city. Yet, that did not stop her wishing there was a better way than this.
She ran her hands over the coat one last time and looked up at the mirror again.
She knew that the others would be dressed in their uniforms for this trip, but that was not the Athosian way. She wished to be dressed ready to honour Rodney's death and the sanctity of the Shrine, a powerful and beautiful gift from the Ancestors.
These years living and working in Atlantis had made her feelings regarding the Ancestors slightly jaded, yet she still respected the Shrine and what it would give Rodney today. She had trust that it would work, though admittedly it was perhaps more of a hope than trust. Her belief in the power Ancestors had not lessened, after all she lived where they had lived, and she had even met Ancestors herself. However, that reality of them had in many ways humanised them a little too much. She now knew that they had been people with faults and who had made mistakes, yet part of her, one immersed in Ancestor lore since an infant, still believed that the Shrine was a gift. A powerful gift the Ancestors had purposefully left to help those struck by the Second Childhood. She hoped.
Such doubts did not help her now and, as she turned from the mirror, she felt her hands trembling a little. She clutched them together. She had to be strong for Rodney and for the others. She would be strong, yet alone in her quarters now, the doubts, emotions, and questions assaulted her.
Her heart had barely been able to bear watching Rodney deteriorate. To watch a man so intelligent and so important to her wither away in such a way that she could do nothing to help him, except stand by his side. He may not understand who she was at times, but she would stand by his side to the very end. She would always be there for him.
Yet, it was so unbearably sad.
She turned back to the mirror and looked once again at her ceremonial coat. Ceremonies. Her life had been filled with them, and yet it seemed that the answers to prayers sent up in those times, were rarely received. But, today, she needed to focus on her faith in the Shrine and that it would provide Rodney with his last lucid day. That she would be able to say goodbye to him properly and make sure that he knew how much he meant to her.
She would be strong for him.
The door chimes rang. She took a moment, taking a breath to gather her strength for what was to come.
She turned from her reflection, her chin high and the tears almost gone, and moved to the door. It was time to go. Time to walk with Rodney on this one last mission together.
The doors parted and she found John outside, Ronon just down the corridor. The two men, both strong and noble, nodded to her. She knew, without words exchanged, that they were in the same place as she was. They felt as she did, and none of them wanted this day to begin let alone end.
She looked up at John as he said something vague about getting to the Jumper bay. His face was controlled, yet his eyes…they were so sad. That insight constricted her heart again, so much that she had to look away. It had not been too long ago that the two of them had sat together to share another loss. They had sat beside one another and silently grieved for Elizabeth. Elizabeth, who had been lost over and over again, the grief stretched out mixed with disbelief and hope that she may yet still live somewhere out there. Today, Rodney's fate was clear, and Teyla was not sure if having one last day made things in anyway easier. It was just how it was. And it brought even more grief for them all.
She stepped out of her quarters and her two friends turned, leading the way. They were silent as Teyla dropped into step beside John, Ronon before them.
Ronon walked tall and proud, his faith in the Shrine absolute, as was his determination to give Rodney the chance to have one last day. He cared for Rodney as much as she and John did. Each of them loved Rodney in their own unique way, yet all of them felt the same about today. They hoped it would work, they hated that it was even necessary and they were already thinking of the end of the day.
Ronon still ahead of them, and the hallway empty of anyone else, Teyla reached out. Her hand slid quickly around John's, gripping his hand tightly with unspoken reference to the support they could offer each other. He squeezed her hand in return, the returning warmth and strength of his hand helping her in ways she could not wholly name.
Then, as they turned a corner, their hands loosened and dropped away from each other. Yet, Teyla still felt the warmth around her hand, felt the shared moment, and knew that it would help her just that little bit more to get through this day. She hoped that it would do the same for John.
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THE END
