Chapter 5

Teyla was awakened by the sound of her door chime, and blearily sat up and looked around. Realizing that there was someone outside her room, she turned on the lights then slid out of bed and unlocked the door, to see John standing there. His hair stuck up even worse than usual, and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His black t-shirt was rumpled, suggesting that if he had gone to bed at all, he had spent the entire time tossing and turning.

"John?"

He looked up from the floor in surprise, as if he had just remembered where he was. The half-smirk he usually gave her as an apology for these late-night interruptions was replaced with a deep frown, and for a moment it seemed as if he would just turn around and walk away.

"Are you all right?" She asked, though she could plainly see that he was not. If nothing else, she only wanted to get him to acknowledge her presence, to break him out of whatever reverie he was currently trapped inside.

John finally blinked, then shrugged and said, "I'm sorry I woke you. I just..."

Needed to talk, Teyla finished in her mind, even as she knew he would never do so aloud. The colonel was very guarded; it often took a lot for him to allow anyone else to share in his thoughts and feelings.

"Please," she said, stepping aside slightly and holding out her hand, "come in."

He looked over her shoulder, then glanced around the hall. "You sure? It's pretty late..."

Biting back a sigh, she dipped her head. "I am sure."

Following her into the room, John nearly tripped over his own feet, he was so exhausted. He managed to get about three yards inside and just drifted to a stop, so Teyla took his hand and led him to the small loveseat at the end of her bed, tugging him down onto it as she sat. As he made himself as comfortable as he could ever get, she pulled on her robe and tied the belt around her waist, smoothing the hem over her knees.

"When is the last time you got any sleep, John?" She asked as the extent of his condition became fully obvious to her. His skin was paler than his Scottish heritage usually allowed, and when he blinked his eyelids were sluggish. He just seemed generally run down, and that was never good for an Air Force colonel, especially here in Atlantis when the Wraith could come knocking at any moment.

"I dunno," he murmured, leaning his head back against the cushion.

When he said nothing further, Teyla guessed that once again she was going to have to drag what was bothering him out of him. It was the nature of their friendship – he wanted to talk but had no idea of what to say, and so she would ask pointed questions in the hope of learning what it was he was thinking about.

After she and John had stepped off the elevator at the hotel and found the others, the only words he had spoken were orders to pack up their things, and for Rodney to figure out how to get back home. Luckily for the team, McKay's brilliant mind spent little time finding the solution to their problem, and within a matter of hours they had found themselves in the correct time and space. Soon after that, they were back in Atlantis, performing their usual duties.

Ever since that little adventure, John had seemed to withdraw just a bit more than usual. He was still friendly, making time to spar with Teyla or Ronon and play light-switch for Rodney, but he would often disappear into his room for hours, telling either Lorne or Woolsey that he did not wish to be disturbed for a while. Woolsey had been troubled enough by John's sudden change in personality that he came to Teyla to determine the reason for it, but although she had a reasonable idea, she did not feel that it was up to her to explain, and so she merely suggested that he talk to John himself.

"John, are you still troubled by what happened at the party?" She finally asked.

"I keep forgetting you're not one for small talk," he grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat. When she said nothing, he turned his head to look at her and saw that she was giving him her "cut the shit" stare. Sighing, he replied, "I keep thinking about what Dave said. That Mom was sick of us."

"But you must know that is not true. From what you have told me, you and your mother were very close."

"Yeah, but maybe that's just my remembrance of her. I was just a kid when she died, so maybe the memories I have of her aren't real. Maybe they're just...what I wish had happened."

Teyla had a hard time finding something to say next. The heartbreak on John's face was unmistakable, and she knew that mere words – even the most comforting things she could say – could never begin to help him. Laying her hand over his, she peered deep into his hazel eyes.

"John, your brother was angry, and said many hurtful things. Almost none of what he said was true."

Though he grasped her fingers tightly, he shook his head. "But what if it was? What if my mom knew she was sick, and didn't tell us? And neither did my dad."

"You said it yourself – you were a child. Even if she had told you, you would not have understood."

At this, he pulled his hand away and stood up. "I was old enough to know what death was, Teyla. I knew what happened to our dog, to my goldfish..."

Teyla also stood, and laid her hands on his shoulders. He moved to turn away, to keep her from seeing any more of his pain, but her grip firmed, holding him there as she replied, "Pets can be replaced. After a while, there will always be another dog. But your mother could never come back. Would you really have understood that?"

John's jaw clenched, but he made no reply.

"I know you are hurting, John. And I know you are still angry with your father, though I am aware of only a few of the reasons why..."

Now, he did pull away, and shook his dark head. "No, I'm mad at her! She could have saved herself, and she didn't!"

"No one knows that for sure. Perhaps the procedures would have been ineffective, or perhaps they would have been even more painful than the cancer. Would you have wanted her to suffer that way?"

"I wanted her to stay!" He shouted, the slight sheen of tears momentarily brightening his tired eyes. "I needed her!"

"No, you did not." Stunned into silence, he glared at her as she went on. "You only think so now, after you have learned that she might have lived. But you still grew up without her. And you have turned into a wonderfully kind and good man."

"I don't know where you've been, Teyla, but I'm far from a good man."

"Why? What makes you say that?"

He scoffed. "Remember when Kolya was taking over the city?"

She nodded.

"I mercilessly killed fifty of his men. They walked into that shield and died, instantly." Teyla opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head and rushed on. "I left Elizabeth with the Asurans. I could have disobeyed her order to leave, but I didn't. I lost Ford."

"But in none of those instances were you acting out of malice. With Kolya, you were protecting others in Atlantis. Elizabeth ordered you to leave her, knowing that if you stayed you would have been killed. And Ford ran away."

He was unconvinced, but let the subject drop for now. "Anyway, that's beside the point. The fact is that if my mom had been around, I wouldn't have had to go through so much of the hell I grew up with. The fights with my dad, being disowned..."

"And then you would never have come to Atlantis," she said, softly.

He looked up at her suddenly and began to say something, but then closed both his mouth and his eyes in defeat. She was right. If his mom had lived, he would have never developed his less-than-stellar attitude toward authority. He might have even remained married to Nancy and had what his father would call a "happy life". If that had happened, then John would never have been sent to Antarctica, and O'Neill would never have gotten into his helicopter. Of course, that also meant that he would never have lost Elizabeth or Ford, but he couldn't exactly say that they wouldn't have been lost without him being there, anyway.

"Are you even sure that what Dave said is true?" Teyla asked then.

"What?"

"When he told you those things, we were in a different time, in a different universe. Perhaps in our time, she did not know."

This had obviously not occurred to John before, most likely because he had been too upset to really think everything through. He stood still, staring at her, for the better part of two minutes, and then heaved out a sigh and sank back down onto the couch. Teyla remained where she was for now, her tired mind struggling to keep up with the train of thought she had just put forth.

"Even if she did," she amended, "what does it change now? Do you believe that she loved you any less?"

He shook his head. "She loved all of us. Even my dad. Though only God knows why," he added under his breath.

"Do you think she truly wished to leave you behind?"

Another shake of his head. "I know she didn't."

"Then stop. Stop thinking about the angry words Dave spat at you, simply because he was hurt."

"That wasn't my fault, Teyla."

"I know," she replied. "His pain is all his own doing, as well as your father's. And some of it is no one's fault."

"What do you mean?"

"How old was Dave when your mother passed away?"

John lifted his eyes to stare at the ceiling as he thought. "Two, maybe three?"

"And does he have any memories of your mother?"

"Probably not," John admitted grudgingly. This had also never occurred to him – that he had something Dave didn't, something he could never have.

"The memories you carry of her are yours alone. He can never think back and remember her face, the feel of her hair. It hurts him to know that on top of you having all the privileges of being the eldest child, that you two cannot share your mother. To him, it feels that she ever only belonged to you."

She reached up and brushed a stray cowlick off his forehead, smiling sadly. "How would that make you feel, John?"

John thought about that. Only a few months ago, Teyla had watched Kanaan return to the remaining Athosians, while she stayed in her duties on Atlantis. Torren was to stay with her for the most part, but once he grew old enough to travel on his own, he would be welcome to visit the mainland any time he wished. Kanaan's leaving had been painful for her, but in her usual way she accepted that he had never really felt as if he belonged with the Lanteans, and so had bid him farewell. She spent a short time grieving the loss of her companion, but as she had a son to raise and a job to do, she soon regained her strength and moved on.

In the months and years before this, however, John's fear of commitment had led him to stand by silently first as Teyla bore Kanaan's child, and then as they continued their version of a domestic partnership. Of course, John had remained close by to offer support – babysitting Torren, listening to her fears of Kanaan's brainwashing returning, just generally being a friend – but each time he had seen them hug, it tore a small piece out of his heart. So, maybe it wasn't exactly the same thing as losing the mother you never really knew you had, but it was close enough.

"It feels...it's the worst feeling in the world," he whispered then.

Teyla nodded. "Of course, this is all meaningless if none of it is true here, in this time."

"It's probably too late to find out now. Dad's gone here, and I don't know if he ever said anything to Dave."

"Are you and your brother speaking?"

John shrugged. "A little. We're taking small steps for now." He sighed and leaned his head back again, this time closing his eyes. Already, he seemed more at ease. "I guess I could try and get a hold of him sometime this week."

Even though he could not see her, Teyla smiled. "I think that is a wise idea."

"Hmm," was his only reply. His hand, at first clenched in a tight fist resting on his thigh, now began to relax, his fingers opening out like an unfolding flower. Teyla slipped her fingers between them, and his lips turned up in the first smile she had seen from him in weeks.

They sat in silence, Teyla watching as each muscle in his face smoothed out, the worry-lines in his forehead all but disappearing. When she thought he had drifted off to sleep, she carefully shifted and moved to stand, but he grasped her fingers tight.

"Miss her. So much," he slurred, half-asleep.

She felt her heart squeeze again. Gazing at his slackening face, she could just see how he had looked as a child, realizing that these were the same features his mother must have seen and imagined what he would look like grown up. She thought that Maggie Sheppard would have been delighted with the way he turned out.

Standing up, she let her hand fall away from his, but then leaned over and dropped a small kiss on his forehead, right below his hairline. "I know," she whispered. As she pulled the cover off her bed and draped it over him, she said, "I am sure she misses you, as well."

TBC...