Fic: Beyond the Night (Emmagan/Sheppard, PG)
Title: Beyond the Night
Author: starry_haze
Recipient: lantean_breeze
Pairing: John/Teyla
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,100
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters are not mine; neither is the film Finding Nemo nor the lyrics of "Beyond the Night." No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: lantean_breeze asked for a story about Teyla, John, and Ronon that also featured the Wraith somehow. I hope I covered all the bases! :) Many thanks to alyse and moonlettuce for being the most gracious moderators ever.
Summary: After the last battle with the Wraith, Teyla looks up at John, weary but contented.
Beyond the night, a rising sun
Beyond the night, a battle's won
A battle is won
After the last battle with the Wraith, Teyla looks up at John, weary but contented. She has lived too many moons to be naive, but if only for this moment, she wants to believe the truce will endure-that there is peace at last among the people of the Pegasus Galaxy.
"It is over," she says, her expression as worn and fatigued as her BDUs but still radiant as the rising sun. "Someday we will die, but it will not be at the hand of enemy Wraith."
"I can live with that," he says, smiling, and Teyla thinks he almost looks like that young pilot again, the one who told her he loved Ferris wheels.
The distance between them is an arm's length. Much too far, Teyla thinks, and she steps closer to John, the lights of the Daedalus fading around her into a nearly imperceptible glow. John feels her lips hovering only a breath away, and when she grabs the nape of his neck in her hands, he reaches down to meet her mouth. He thanks God, the gods, or whoever the hell was responsible for this that he lived long enough to dive in again. Teyla's kisses taste like hope, a distillate of serenity and strength, and John swears he isn't good enough for her, but every time she holds him, he's flying high.
Fear and shame now in the past
Pain and sorrow gone at last
Gone at last.
Ronon runs. Tradition or necessity, John can never be sure, but he doesn't need to ask. The men simply follow their route, starting at the top of the Central Spire, winding on down, snaking from pier to pier, peering into dimly lit laboratories, and sprinting back to the mess hall for the breakfast of champions.
The silence feels almost ritual. Especially after a week like this, John expects nothing else. Their friendship was always more than words anyhow. He lets his thoughts wander the corridors of memory, his feet mirroring the act in real time as he travels the height and breadth of Atlantis' labyrinth.
"What'll I do now?" Ronon asks. It was the first time he'd spoken in days.
The botany lab passes out of view from the corner of John's right eye. He blinks but doesn't miss a beat. "Rodney's having a garage sale in Janus' lab. Wanna see how many things I can turn on and explode today?"
"I hunt the Wraith. That's what I do." Ronon's face is a mask of solemnity, relenting only when they sail past waving, blue-frocked nurses.
"Now the Ancients will be the only ones giving us hell." John quickens his step to keep pace with Ronon's stride. "I swear this city is a minefield. Every shiny thing I touch is some experiment gone belly up."
"Sheppard."
"Dex."
"I can't stop fighting those guys. I won't stop. For Melena." Ronon's voice is thick and gravelly, and his eyes look shiny from this angle. John chalks it up to dust and all the damn allergies on this planet and keeps on running.
"Teyla and I cordially invite you to join us for movie night at 8. Popcorn's on me."
"Then what?"
"We rebuild some old ruins and find a just cause worth fighting for."
Ronon's expression brightens, and he stands still. "Sateda?"
"We will never forget." John thinks Ronon's smile is gratitude enough, so he's a little horrified when he finds himself mid-air in one of Ronon's "Oh my God!" bear hugs.
"Thanks, buddy." A moment later, a sneaky grin appears. "Wanna race to the gym? I bet Teyla's there now."
"Oh, you're going down, Chewie!"
Circle renewed, peace will be found
Beyond the night, on sacred ground
Flanked on each side by Ronon and John, Teyla instinctively tightens her grip on the popcorn bowl. Not too long ago, she might have found this custom absurd, but she cannot help but be engrossed by the plight of the animated creatures flickering on the rec room's flat screen. She breaks the spell every so often to check on Torren's location, be it at her feet or in one of his favorite adult's laps, but is grateful to always find him obediently watching.
"Dad, you're not gonna freak out like you did at the petting zoo, are you?"
Teyla smiles. Nemo and Marlin, they're almost human in their own way. Only these Earthers could manage to anthropomorphize fish and cars and elephants.
"It's all right; I understand. Why trust a shark, right?"
That shark Bruce's teeth are really sharp and shiny. Teyla scoops up some popcorn to eat in spite of herself.
"So, what's a couple of bites like you doing out so late, eh?"
Teyla sees Ronon's wry look and knows he sees the parallel: the hungry look in the predators' eyes, the uneasy alliance between hero and would-be foe. John leans closer against her left side, eyes closed; sensing his weariness, she resolves note not to tease him for falling asleep. Torren scurries along the floor, appearing absent-minded, but Teyla knows better.
"That's the shortest red light I've ever seen!"
"Come on, Peach!"
"Oooh-aaaaah!"
"Yay! We did it! Ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Now what?"
After the obligatory chuckle, Teyla breaks into hearty applause as the credits roll. Ronon does a golf clap-he liked it, for a movie with no fight scenes-and John is still dreaming-of what, only he knows.
Torren mimics her for thirty seconds, then tilts his face up with a thoughtful expression.
"Uncle Ronon, do you think Bruce truly believes, 'Fish are friends, not food'?"
Ronon looks at the little guy. "I don't know, my man. Sharks are sharks," he pauses, "but maybe they can change."
Teyla smiles.
River flows, led by the wind
First new breath, Our journey begins
Our journey begins.
The puddle jumper's rear door opens, and Ronon lets the cool, brisk air seep into his core, reaching the bottom of his lungs. The meadow that greets him feels like both a memory and a promise, sweet and fragile like cherry blossoms.
Behind him, the wind blows, the murmurs of his teammates' voices drifting into his consciousness with it.
"He tried to poison me!"
"Surely, if that were the case, he would have attempted to conceal the lemon, would he not?"
"Guess, we've got a citrus-wielding killer on the loose. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of Morris."
Ronon's boots crunch as grass gives way to gravel, the entrance to the city only twenty yards at the end of the rocky trail. He pauses to survey the rubble from his elevated vantage point, the broken jigsaw towers and twisted scrap metal, a scene so haltingly still and unperturbed without the shadow of Wraith cruisers overhead and the cries of lives and love burning.
Three pairs of footsteps stop beside him.
"You ready, buddy?"
The eager smiles of his teammates beam up at him, silhouetted by the Satedan skyline, and Ronon says truthfully, "Yeah, I'm ready."
Author: starry_haze
Recipient: lantean_breeze
Pairing: John/Teyla
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,100
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters are not mine; neither is the film Finding Nemo nor the lyrics of "Beyond the Night." No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: lantean_breeze asked for a story about Teyla, John, and Ronon that also featured the Wraith somehow. I hope I covered all the bases! :) Many thanks to alyse and moonlettuce for being the most gracious moderators ever.
Summary: After the last battle with the Wraith, Teyla looks up at John, weary but contented.
Beyond the night, a rising sun
Beyond the night, a battle's won
A battle is won
After the last battle with the Wraith, Teyla looks up at John, weary but contented. She has lived too many moons to be naive, but if only for this moment, she wants to believe the truce will endure-that there is peace at last among the people of the Pegasus Galaxy.
"It is over," she says, her expression as worn and fatigued as her BDUs but still radiant as the rising sun. "Someday we will die, but it will not be at the hand of enemy Wraith."
"I can live with that," he says, smiling, and Teyla thinks he almost looks like that young pilot again, the one who told her he loved Ferris wheels.
The distance between them is an arm's length. Much too far, Teyla thinks, and she steps closer to John, the lights of the Daedalus fading around her into a nearly imperceptible glow. John feels her lips hovering only a breath away, and when she grabs the nape of his neck in her hands, he reaches down to meet her mouth. He thanks God, the gods, or whoever the hell was responsible for this that he lived long enough to dive in again. Teyla's kisses taste like hope, a distillate of serenity and strength, and John swears he isn't good enough for her, but every time she holds him, he's flying high.
Fear and shame now in the past
Pain and sorrow gone at last
Gone at last.
Ronon runs. Tradition or necessity, John can never be sure, but he doesn't need to ask. The men simply follow their route, starting at the top of the Central Spire, winding on down, snaking from pier to pier, peering into dimly lit laboratories, and sprinting back to the mess hall for the breakfast of champions.
The silence feels almost ritual. Especially after a week like this, John expects nothing else. Their friendship was always more than words anyhow. He lets his thoughts wander the corridors of memory, his feet mirroring the act in real time as he travels the height and breadth of Atlantis' labyrinth.
"What'll I do now?" Ronon asks. It was the first time he'd spoken in days.
The botany lab passes out of view from the corner of John's right eye. He blinks but doesn't miss a beat. "Rodney's having a garage sale in Janus' lab. Wanna see how many things I can turn on and explode today?"
"I hunt the Wraith. That's what I do." Ronon's face is a mask of solemnity, relenting only when they sail past waving, blue-frocked nurses.
"Now the Ancients will be the only ones giving us hell." John quickens his step to keep pace with Ronon's stride. "I swear this city is a minefield. Every shiny thing I touch is some experiment gone belly up."
"Sheppard."
"Dex."
"I can't stop fighting those guys. I won't stop. For Melena." Ronon's voice is thick and gravelly, and his eyes look shiny from this angle. John chalks it up to dust and all the damn allergies on this planet and keeps on running.
"Teyla and I cordially invite you to join us for movie night at 8. Popcorn's on me."
"Then what?"
"We rebuild some old ruins and find a just cause worth fighting for."
Ronon's expression brightens, and he stands still. "Sateda?"
"We will never forget." John thinks Ronon's smile is gratitude enough, so he's a little horrified when he finds himself mid-air in one of Ronon's "Oh my God!" bear hugs.
"Thanks, buddy." A moment later, a sneaky grin appears. "Wanna race to the gym? I bet Teyla's there now."
"Oh, you're going down, Chewie!"
Circle renewed, peace will be found
Beyond the night, on sacred ground
Flanked on each side by Ronon and John, Teyla instinctively tightens her grip on the popcorn bowl. Not too long ago, she might have found this custom absurd, but she cannot help but be engrossed by the plight of the animated creatures flickering on the rec room's flat screen. She breaks the spell every so often to check on Torren's location, be it at her feet or in one of his favorite adult's laps, but is grateful to always find him obediently watching.
"Dad, you're not gonna freak out like you did at the petting zoo, are you?"
Teyla smiles. Nemo and Marlin, they're almost human in their own way. Only these Earthers could manage to anthropomorphize fish and cars and elephants.
"It's all right; I understand. Why trust a shark, right?"
That shark Bruce's teeth are really sharp and shiny. Teyla scoops up some popcorn to eat in spite of herself.
"So, what's a couple of bites like you doing out so late, eh?"
Teyla sees Ronon's wry look and knows he sees the parallel: the hungry look in the predators' eyes, the uneasy alliance between hero and would-be foe. John leans closer against her left side, eyes closed; sensing his weariness, she resolves note not to tease him for falling asleep. Torren scurries along the floor, appearing absent-minded, but Teyla knows better.
"That's the shortest red light I've ever seen!"
"Come on, Peach!"
"Oooh-aaaaah!"
"Yay! We did it! Ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Now what?"
After the obligatory chuckle, Teyla breaks into hearty applause as the credits roll. Ronon does a golf clap-he liked it, for a movie with no fight scenes-and John is still dreaming-of what, only he knows.
Torren mimics her for thirty seconds, then tilts his face up with a thoughtful expression.
"Uncle Ronon, do you think Bruce truly believes, 'Fish are friends, not food'?"
Ronon looks at the little guy. "I don't know, my man. Sharks are sharks," he pauses, "but maybe they can change."
Teyla smiles.
River flows, led by the wind
First new breath, Our journey begins
Our journey begins.
The puddle jumper's rear door opens, and Ronon lets the cool, brisk air seep into his core, reaching the bottom of his lungs. The meadow that greets him feels like both a memory and a promise, sweet and fragile like cherry blossoms.
Behind him, the wind blows, the murmurs of his teammates' voices drifting into his consciousness with it.
"He tried to poison me!"
"Surely, if that were the case, he would have attempted to conceal the lemon, would he not?"
"Guess, we've got a citrus-wielding killer on the loose. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of Morris."
Ronon's boots crunch as grass gives way to gravel, the entrance to the city only twenty yards at the end of the rocky trail. He pauses to survey the rubble from his elevated vantage point, the broken jigsaw towers and twisted scrap metal, a scene so haltingly still and unperturbed without the shadow of Wraith cruisers overhead and the cries of lives and love burning.
Three pairs of footsteps stop beside him.
"You ready, buddy?"
The eager smiles of his teammates beam up at him, silhouetted by the Satedan skyline, and Ronon says truthfully, "Yeah, I'm ready."