A Study of Awareness

Characters: Team Sheppard, Kate Heightmeyer. Slight bend on J/T.

Spoilers: Not really. Mild through season three

Disclaimer: Not mine! Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM.

Summary: Awareness can be a painful thing. 3rd Party POV, Episode tag for Progeny.

A/N: This is my first SGA fic. I wasn't planning on writing anything today; it just sort of happened. :) I know it's a little unusual to have a first fic be from a 3rd party POV, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway! I took some leeway with Kate's background as well.
For my MX readers, please know I do plan to write at least one more one-shot for B/S. If you have any requests, please let me know. Thank you for all your requests for more stories! You guys are the best!
Thank you!

She had grown accustomed to pain.

Growing up as the only child of the General, and the only girl on a small base with nine other boys from military families, she had learned early on to be tough. No matter the feelings inside, no matter the fear, she had learned it prudent to hold her head high. The General had been pleased when she chose a military career for herself. Fortunately for her, he hadn't lived long enough to see it end. One tour, and she was done. Despite the rumors of being just another girl unable to make the cut, she walked away without looking back. She alone knew her reason for leaving. And the reason that drove her to change careers. As lead psychiatrist of the Atlantis Expedition, Kate Heightmeyer was accustomed to pain. To worry, and fear, and all the guilt that went with along with it.

It didn't mean it ever got any easier.

And so when she finally got a moment to sink her weary bones into the molded plastic of a cafeteria chair, she purposely chose a seat in the corner, facing away. Away from the hub of busy people, away from the reminders of noise. She dared to close her eyes, savoring the quiet.

It didn't last long.

"Mind if we join you?"

She sighed, automatically schooling her face into pleasant lines as she held out a hand. Of all the two hundred people on base, it had to be Dr. McKay. "Of course, please, take a seat."

McKay instantly plopped down, face already turned to his tray of food. She felt another pair of eyes on her and looked up to see Ronon Dex studying her. She forced a smile, gesturing again. The big man stared at her another moment before sliding into the chair across from her. Something about the way he deliberately folded his frame into the chair, back to the corner, staunchly nodding at her as he also wasted no time in eating took her off guard. His position was deliberate, eyes continually scanning on alert, despite the relaxed slouch of his shoulders. Always the soldier.

A sad smile twitched at her lips.

Rodney on the other hand, was woefully ignorant, beaming his pleasure at the return of blue jello. She only half listened to his twelve minute dissertation on why this exact shade of blue was so important. Something else had caught Ronon's eye, his fork stilling halfway to his mouth. She turned her chair slightly to follow, surprised to see Colonel Sheppard and Teyla entering the cafeteria as well. She was just remembering his team had gone off world that morning, Dr. Weir going along with them. She hadn't received her usual notification of their return. She always kept herself on standby for any returning mission. She had learned it easier to be prepared for the inevitable barrage of increased visits. Nightmares were the most common aliment among the many she handled for the stream of military and civilians marked by the growing dangers of this Expedition. Walking memories, haunted eyes, fearful cries, empty faces. She had seen it all in so short a time. So much pain. Who was she to turn to when sometimes it all became too much to bear?

Metal scraped against teeth as Ronon continued his meal. She subtly watched the Colonel and the Athosian for a few more moments, turning only at the whispering sound of a blade unsheathing. While he continued to eat with his right hand, Ronon's left had withdrawn a knife, methodically flipping it in his palm. It was a habit she had seen him do several times before. Only now did she realize it was most often on the day of a return. Flip. Smack. Flip. It joined the sound of Rodney's voice in the back of her mind as she turned her head back to the entrance.

There was something about John Sheppard and Teyla that she couldn't turn away from.

They parted as soon as they walked through the doors, he heading straight for the hot food line while she veered towards beverages. It was the Athosian's walk that puzzled her most, lacking her usual grace. Normally, Kate found herself envying the other woman. Teyla, the leader of her people and member of a team. Teyla, who was free to be strong in all things, not just the things society deemed proper. Who thought nothing of chasing after monsters and who made a place for herself wherever she went. A woman who cried for her dead, but who still pulled the trigger. A woman she had always tried to be, but did not always understand.

But not today.

Today, Teyla's arms were folded across her body in a classically protective and defensive hold. And even as Kate watched, Teyla paused, leaning slightly forward to rest against the nearest counter.

Ronon was flipping his knife again. She glanced over at him. "Your team just got back from off-world?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago."

Flip. Smack. Flip.

That habit of his was going to drive her crazy someday. She opened to mouth to probe for more when the man suddenly froze. She whipped her head around again, following his gaze back to the other side of the room.

Teyla's knuckles were clutching the edge of the counter so hard, they were white, bloodless.

"Colonel?"

Though soft, the tone of her voice cut through the din. The three members of her team heard immediately, the two seated with Kate half-rising as four sets of eyes instantly locked together.

And in their gaze, Kate saw shared horrors too painful to speak. She saw one sacrificing himself, eyes closing in terrible resignation to the overwhelming heat of a lonely, burning death. Another enduring torture, twisted up on his knees and screaming as if all the demons of hell were coming to get him. Another fighting in the dark, the tendons on his neck distended, the beat of his pulse rippling his neck, eyes wide and bulging, heart exploding as he couldn't stop fighting. And the other was shrieking with a sound more animal than human, curled into a fetal ball and crying, staring glassily at the carnage of bodies, futilely trying to hold the pieces of her humanity together, slamming clenched fist repeatedly into the ground. She saw their conjoined fear, their impassioned pain, every muscle spasming convulsively, bodies arching. Her mouth gaped like a fish breathing air as she tried to comprehend, tried to suck in and scream out at the same time. For an agonizing endless second the visions just hung there. Then they collapsed.

No one moved.

All she could hear was the rapid-fire breathing of four soldiers and the nerve-wracking whine of a hundred ignorant voices. Then something crackled and everyone shuddered as if suddenly awakening.

She blinked and watched as Colonel Sheppard sauntered over to grab a cup of coffee next to Teyla, brushing against her as she turned her head toward him and took a deep breath. At the same time, Ronon and Rodney had sunk back into their chairs. And though Rodney had momentarily paused, he picked up again mid-sentence like nothing had happened, though the tremble almost gave him away. Ronon's face was unreadable, but his hand was shaking when he next lifted his fork.

Kate pretended not to notice.

She almost understood. Trapped in the never never land that existed between terror and wakefulness, she watched as they collectively tried to remember how they had come to be here, the images in their own heads crowding out all else and bodies controlled by the mind's imperative. It was all so brief and so subtle that even Kate would never have noticed except for the fact that she recognized the faces all too well. And while her mind was still asking questions, still processing answers, some part of her brain was still focusing on them, on the remembered images. She tried to bring her attention back to where it belonged. She had to act professional.

She would deal with the pain later.

And so she watched them. With a tiny furor between her eyes she watched Teyla as she paced past the Colonel, watched as he reached out and touched her. It was nothing really. A brush of his hand on her arm and then lower back, as he made eye contact. Most psychologists were sensitive to body language so the eye contact should not have been as telling as it appeared to be. It finally started to sink in to her that in addition to a partner's reassurance, they were doing something different. No matter what they were doing, some part of their brain was constantly watching, constantly listening for any reaction. Any shift in stance, any change in the pitch of voice caused a split second look to see if anything new had occurred.

That is when it clicked.

Teyla had turned her head when Colonel Sheppard came up behind her. There were over forty people in the room, and she had known it was him from ten feet away. This team had all the functioning instincts of both the hunter and the hunted. Situational awareness trained to a fine edge, they existed in a state of constant awareness and communication with their counterparts. Even when they weren't saying anything, they were saying something. She glanced back at her tablemates and saw a similar awareness in their eyes. Ronon stared steadily back and Rodney kept blabbing, not quite maintaining contact. She tucked that away inside her mind for a later time, turning her head back around. By now she was openly staring, amazed no one else seemed to notice anything. She wasn't so sure she understood it all entirely herself.

As it was, it happened so quickly, she almost missed it.

The Colonel's eyes had been staring slightly above Teyla's at an unknown point to Kate. But the moment his fingers tentatively reached out, brushing across her forehead in a whispering gesture, she suddenly understood. And when Teyla's hand next lifted, fingers flitting across his own creased temple, Kate had to look away, the moment suddenly too private to intrude. When she next glanced back, she was not surprised to see they were stolidly back in the hot food line, her back to his front as his fingers rapped impatiently against the glass top of the food display. As the line slowly moved forward, he cracked a joke to the attendant, and she obligatorily rolled her eyes when he grinned at her.

For all practical purposes, they looked the same as always.

Only she knew better.

It had happened so quickly she could almost believe she imagined it.

Almost.

But not quite.

Ronon and Mckay saw as well. Rodney's voice had shuddered and finally faded to complete silence, his fingers inexplicitly tracing his own furrowed forehead. She suddenly realized with a painful start that he didn't give a damn about blue jello anymore than she did. Ronon's jaw had clenched a little tighter, his knife never missing a beat as he shifted his weight in his chair.

Something had happened to them out there, and they could barely acknowledge it to themselves. She was quite certain none of them would be knocking down her door anytime soon to share either. She didn't know whether to laugh in relief or cry in frustration at this team. But some quiet feeling in the back of her mind told her she didn't want to know as she finally turned back to her own plate, briefly closing her eyes.

It would hurt too much.