Disclaimer: Don't own SGA, the characters, etc.
She knows exactly what to do, what to say. "I do not have a problem," is how it starts. And then she changes it to, "Maybe you are right." And finally, "Perhaps I do. No, you are right, I do have a problem." They let her go, none the wiser. As far as they know, she has come to accept that she is powerless over drugs.
John is not convinced. And he is angry. Frustrated. Scared. "I almost watched you die," he says. "You came to me to detox. You told me when I took you to rehab that you were ready, that you would work the program."
"I am," she says.
"No," John shakes his head, "no." He runs a hand through his hair. "My mother was an alcoholic," he says. "Don't think you can pull one over on me."
"John, I—"
"Don't lie to me." He looks her straight in the eyes and she feels a chill, "Do not lie to me, Teyla. Either you work the program, or you're out. For good."
"And what about us?" she would never have asked that question without the drugs. But she could feel the anger rising and she cannot control it. "You are just going to throw it away?"
"There isn't an us, anymore." He says. "I'm going to drive you to a meeting, you're going to go, or I report this to Weir."
"Report it," she snaps.
"I'm going to let you sleep on that."
The next morning and John is knocking on her door. "You're going," he says.
"I know."
He goes with her. Twice a week, every week.