Title: Lost in a Life Time
Summary: John goes over everything he's been through now that he's back at Atlantis. (set after Epiphany)
Spoilers: Epiphany
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own it, like heck I wish I did, and so on. : P
Authors Notes: It's short, but I so had to write it after watching that episode! I mean poor John! That's gotta be a while before he gets over six freaken months of time not having any clue of what's going on and then have that taken from him too.
John stared up at the ceiling of his room, lost in thought. He had just come back from the planet and been given a clean bill of health from Becket. He had thought that the first thing he would do was shave and dress in his old clothes, but they seemed so foreign to him now. Everything did now.
God, six months. He had six months of waiting, of memories, of loss. Sure he now understood that they hadn't abandoned him. That they had in fact spent every moment trying to save him, but still. He had known these people six months ago and it was like not a day had passed. Which, he reminded himself, was quite true.
But he could still remember those long nights of betrayal and hurt. He still remembered waiting for days, weeks at that damned cave for someone, anyone to come through, save his ass, do something. After finding out he would never get back he had been completely lost. He had poured over memories, had felt guilt, betrayal and regret for things he had done or hadn't done. For times he had lost while staying there and for people who were gone. Just like that. No warning, no time for good-byes…just gone.
But like Ronon had said, none of them had felt that loss. None of them had had months and months to pour over everything, every detail of pain and regret. None of them had the time to really go through the thought of never seeing him again. Like Ronon had said, it had only been hours. Only hours.
He shut his eyes against the ceiling, feeling misplaced with Atlantis's smells and sounds. His bed was different too. He gave a bitter grin when remembering what he would have given to have this bed back on that planet, but now…now it seemed like it had belonged to someone else. His whole previous life did.
Slowly, he opened his eyes again, studying the ceiling as though for answers or closure. None came to him though. Would things really just go on as though nothing had happened? As though he didn't remember grieving for every damned person on this base…everyone on his team…He felt his insides go cold and empty and heaved a sigh.
They would, he knew they would. The missions would go on as they were supposed to. People would keep going as though nothing had happened. To them, nothing but a few hours had passed. Everything was fine in their book.
He wasn't sure what he had pictured when thinking of any escape or rescue that might've happened during those months. He had thought of the idea constantly. He wasn't sure exactly what he had seen when he had made it back to Atlantis and seen his team again, but this was definitely not what he had pictured. He had thought every moment he was locked in there they would have out there.
Sometimes he wondered if they had given up on him all together and the pain he had felt at the thought had shook his trust a lot. Made him question friendships and wonder why they had actually given up on him. He wondered if they had a choice, wondered if they were even still alive. The fear at the thought had put him through weeks of nightmares of horrific deaths and torture of his friends. Even now that he knew the truth he couldn't put all those feeling behind him.
He frowned at the ceiling and heaved a sigh. And now the life he had forced himself to become accustom too was gone just like that. The people that had become his new family…was gone. His world had been turned upside down and then flipped back over when things were just starting to make sense again.
Again he studied the ceiling for answers. A way he could go back into the mess hall as though nothing had happened. As though when he looked at his team's faces he wouldn't remember picturing every one of them dying horrific deaths nearly every night. A way he could sit with them and talk without feeling lost or awkward about everything. A way he could be relieved when really all he felt was turmoil and frustration.
He really thought he would've been relieved to be back here. Hoped it, depended on it even. But Atlantis gave him no comfort or answers. His team hadn't said much and it had made John feel even more hollow. He had to keep reminding himself that they had only had hours to go through, that it wasn't their fault their questions were awkward and friendly gestures gave him absolutely no comfort. He had expected more, had known there would be more. Maybe laughter and crying. Maybe memories to swap, stories to tell. Closure, guilt, repentance. Not this. He had not expected this.
The End