Haha, this bit is so melodramatic and kind of lame, but it is what it is. John still seem almost, wildly, out of character, but kind of has to be, I think.

R and R

Ch. 3

Teyla said nothing, and John looked over to the wall, thankful there were no windows, thankful there was no one but Teyla. Now he wanted to stop. He didn't need to go so far as to tell her what happened; it would only leave him feeling foolish. He should have stuck to stories about presents and laughter, and horses and motorcycles. Now he was on the verge of tears. Tears! He was ready to cry, an action he hadn't engaged in since the day he was now reliving.

He felt her hand on his back, soft and gentle, caring. He couldn't look at her. He knew she had seen the forming tears. He'd come so far, but really he'd never moved. In reality he'd merely perfected a shell. The laid back guy who can crack a joke at the worst times and manage to relieve some stress, the man whose feathers were hard to ruffle, the guy who tried to let most things roll of his back and smile. The guy who looked almost certain death in the face, more than once now, and decided it wasn't something to worry about, he'd put anyone's life before his own. Hell, even Kavanaugh.

But on the inside he never stopped mourning.

The memory was so vivid, so much so that he sometimes thought he could smell the barn. Visions of his sister had tormented from that day on, and probably would haunt him to his dying day. Maybe she'd be the last fleeting image to pass his mind before death took hold of him, but he'd see her and at long last, hear her voice.

He coughed and wiped at his eyes, trying to pass it off as a tired gesture, but Teyla knew better. Her hand stopped and came to rest comfortably on his back. She smiled at how right it felt, she was proud to have figured out the proper response to the Major's anguish, and to be able to be near him, to touch him in his time of need.

Looking over to her, shading his face as best as possible, he croaked "Guess the cats out of the bag…" he almost laughed at her baffled expression. He made a mental note to sit with her and go over some of Earth's more famous idioms, sayings and clichés.

He looked down into his cup, it was empty, "How about some more tea?" his strength was growing, and the regular, almost playful tone was making its way back into his voice. Teyla reluctantly moved her hands from him to the pot and poured another glass.

"I am sorry." She said as poured it, she wanted to keep him going, and she wanted to know what had happened. He had begun to share a deep and painfully dark secret with her. "I wish…" she paused, considering her words, not wanting to offend him and push him away, "I would like to know, if you want to tell me."

He drank from his cup, draining the tea that had just been poured into it. He looked down into the bottom of the cup again, tipping it back and forth watching what little liquid was left shift with the change of gravity. He was silent for a long time, perhaps searching for the words. Teyla waited patiently, but the silence was chipping away at her confidence. What if he didn't say anything? What if he got up and left? What if he was never ready…worse, what if he didn't trust her with the knowledge?

There was a knock at the door, breaking the silence and the tense mood of the room. They both looked to the door; John was quick to busy himself by pouring more tea, looking away from the door. Teyla cleared her throat and moved to the door, unlocking it; it swished open to reveal Dr. Rodney McKay.

"Ah, Teyla, I was wondering if you'd seen Major…" he spotted John sitting against the wall, he moved to get closer, "There you are Major, I've been looking for you…" Teyla move in front of him, derailing his attempt to reach the man, "…for hours. Teyla I need to speak with Major Sheppard could you…" He motioned his arms to get her move aside, taking in her face and the lack of movement, or snide remark from Sheppard, McKay dropped his hands to his side, "Am I…interrupting?"

"Yes." Teyla answered, ushering him back toward the door.

"Oh," clearly it hadn't been the answer he was looking for, "well, I, um…o-okay." The door closed and was relocked.

She returned to her seat, hoping the silence would have been severed long enough to restart the story.

He laughed, a true laugh, and looked at Teyla, "When he asked if he was interrupting, he was implying we were having some sort of secret love affair." He smiled.

Teyla looked back at the door, "I did not-"

"No, I know. I was, um…thanks for saving me." He hoped she knew he meant that it wasn't just McKay he spoke of. It was his loneliness. She was saving him from having to mourn his sister alone. Every molecule of air expelled with that sentence was immediately sucked back in. His strength had suddenly wavered, his wall had lost a key brick, the loss of which had sent the wall tumbling.

She knelt by his side, in a bold move she placed her hand on the side of his face, she could feel the tears. He tried to pull away, but Teyla had to be strong for both of them. She had to make him face this, so she kept her hand on his jaw, and placed her other hand on the opposite side of his face and turned him to her.

"Please. It is ok."

His red rimmed eyes met her soft brown ones. He tilted his head into her hand, blinking slowly. He put his hands over hers and brought them down to rest on his lap. He looked back over at the necklace, bringing something terrible to the forefront of his mind, to the tip of his tongue.

"It was," he smiled knowing she'd never get the reference, "a beautiful day in the neighborhood and I was skateboarding with Luke, and I fell. I thought maybe I'd hit a rock or something, but there was nothing. And it hurt, more than it should have. I felt like something in me had, I don't know. Like something was just gone." he looked back to her, holding her eyes, hoping to express what he was getting at without saying the words. "Sounds stupid, I know."

"You felt her…"

His body shook at her words, and hung his head, "I thought maybe it was my pride. I felt…so empty. If I had stopped to think, maybe…"

Teyla wanted to interject and tell him there was nothing he could have done, but was there? She didn't know the situation. But she honestly believed there must have been nothing, because John would have done anything.

Anything.

"We still don't…" he cleared his throat then suddenly pulled away, stood and began to pace. It was the pace of a man so overcome by grief he could think of no other action, but to move. He had to show himself that he was still alive; he had to make himself see that there was something for him yet. Teyla, still kneeling watched him. Slowly she stood, and as she did he stopped, crossed him arms and stood still, his back to her.

He had quelled the spasms that had threatened to spill forth earlier. But, as he turned his head and spoke, he could not stop the tremor in him voice, the overwhelming despair of a life lost, "I found..." It was barely audible.

She could think of nothing else to say, "Please sit."

He did, a few silent tears streaking his face. He no longer tired to hide them. He knew she knew, that she could see, hear and feel his pain. He didn't care anymore, this was something that had devastated him, and he was talking about it. And it only took fourteen years, a one way trip to another galaxy and an alien.

Teyla resumed her seat next to him, holding his hand, doing her best to comfort him.

"Teyla," he said without looking at her, "I know you've lost people. But this is different." She was mildly startled by this, and slightly offended. She had probably lost more people than he had known. How could his loss be any different from hers?

He must have sensed her sudden uneasiness. He looked at her, a desperate fear in his eyes. He thought he had just pushed away the only person he was comfortable telling this to, all with four little words.

"No, no! That's not…not less important, just, you know – not that it makes you feel better – but at least you know what happened to them." He blinked, tears on the brink of falling, "I just wanted it to be a joke. I wanted someone to wake me up."

------

Fourteen Years Ago

John and Luke walked the stony road to the barn, from which Renee would soon emerge dusty and smelling like horse. The two young men talked idly of their plans for after graduation, of senior week, and how they wanted to sneak in and scare the girl they sought.

Luke reached down and picked up a stone, the tossed it into a near by field. "Hey, don't do that." John told him.

"Why?"

"Just don't. Renee tells me not to so you can't either. Deal with it."

"Isn't that Jett?" he said pointing to a dark horse in the distance, "I thought you said she'd be almost done by now."

"We'll she's the only one here. Maybe she had to take care of some other horses first. Bring him in."

"What?"

"Oh come on, don't be a wuss, it's easy. All you have to do is lead him. Grab the rope thing that's hanging by the gate, clip it on and bring him in."

"I hate you man." He said, walking toward the pasture.

John smiled in triumph, "And watch out for that horse shit!" he yelled behind him as jogged over to the barn. He slowed down and started to whistle as he walked along the quiet corridor. Noticing the unusual quiet, he looked at the horses as he passed, they were all deathly quiet. It was creepy, and it made him feel like he was walking into a horror movie.

He could see muddy footprints leading out of Jett's stall; it must have been a mess today. The closer he got to Jett's stall, the more the quiet seemed to penetrate his skin and shoot straight to his bones like a freezing wind. He didn't know that a few more steps and the freezing wind would turn into ice cold dagger.

The silence was freaking him out. He thought of how only ten minutes before he'd felt the same kind of panic, the same kind of fear. He ran the rest of the way to the stall, it felt like he was walking slowly on a moving sidewalk, headed the way he'd come.

The stall was a wreck. It looked like a horse had gone crazy in it. The feed bucked had been torn from the corner, there were clothes all over, some torn, and he wanted to be wrong, but that definitely could have been blood.

He froze. His eyes frantically looked over everything. He tried to move but his feet had turned to lead. And few more moments and a deep breaths and he flew black from the stall door. To any one else it might look as if a couple had seriously gone at it in there. He was certain that a no point in time would one of those people be Renee.

"Hey John, I couldn't...find…" Luke stood, staring at John. "Man, are you okay? Where's Renee?" No answer. Luke's eyes darted to the stall and back to John before they processed the scene before them. "Dude, what the hell?"

------

"She was…simply gone?" Teyla asked quietly. He'd been right. Their losses, while fundamentally the same, were extremely different. She knew what became of those taken from her, she'd seen it, but had her father simply disappeared…

Teyla wanted to cry.

"Perhaps she is not dead."

John was bent over, head in his hands, elbows resting on the table, "No. She's gone. I know it, I felt it." He looked up at her, sorrow ridden and angry at the memory. He stood suddenly and violently, knocking his chair over with an unthinkably loud clatter.

He was all but shouting, "They couldn't find her. They said it looked like there could have been a struggle, that maybe she'd been TAKEN. I tried to find her. They gave up, everyone gave up and she LEFT ME! I was so ANGRY! I hated her for leaving! For letting…whatever happen" he shook her slightly, she was scared, not for her safety, the Major would never hurt her, no matter how angry. No, she was scared for him. "They didn't…they couldn't even find her!"

Never, had she seen him so angry. Not even when the Genii had taken control of the city. This was a primal anger, the kind beasts and wild animals had. Left unchecked, it could harm others, and the one who wielded it.

He continued to shout angry words to her, but she had ceased to hear. She needed to calm him, to save him. She shouted back to him, calling his name, trying to be heard above his angry grief. Momentarily she wondered if they could hear it outside her door. If anyone had passed they surely would have stopped to see what was happening.

"Major! Major!" she grabbed his arms, turning him, "Major!" she shouted once more, before she pushed him with all her strength onto the bed that had been provided.

He sat and immediately lay on his stomach, covering his head, completely embarrassed by his outburst, and again wanting to hide the tears. Teyla stood over him, waiting to see if he would move to leave, or move at all.

"Major Sheppard." Her voice was soft and wondrously caring once more, "John?"

"Damn it." He whispered.