Fic: One Last Thing to Take Care Of
Title: One Last Thing to Take Care Of
Word Count: ~500
Category: Gen
Rating: G
Spoilers: Outcast
A/N: Episode tag for Outcast written for the
sheps_atlantischallenge.
Climbing from the taxi, Sheppard took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle the rolling emotions that had threatened to overflow since Sam had delivered the news. In the distance a bird chirped, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers as it whispered through the shade trees. He squinted into the sunlight, wishing again for the protection his aviator shades provided. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he made his way across the meticulously manicured grounds, gaze lowered and shoulders hunched.
He paused as he reached the grey stone, confirming his shirt was tucked properly and his jacket buttoned. Straightening his tie, he took the final couple of steps and scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck without realizing it. He smoothed his lapels, reminded himself he was forty not fourteen, and cleared his throat.
“Hi. It’s John.”
Sweat trickled down his hairline even though the day was cool. Forcing his clenched fists open, he swallowed thickly.
“You know I suck at this, but I guess that’s one thing we had in common.”
God, now what to say?
“I went to see Dave. He’s doing well, but I guess you knew that. We talked. Well, we talked about as much as Sheppard men talk, I guess. I gave him an email address in case he needs to get in touch with me. Met his fiancé. She seems nice.”
He shuffled nervously, unsure of what to do next. Stepping carefully around the fresh dirt, John moved to the far right side of the marker and knelt.
“Hey, Mom. Sorry I haven’t been here for so long. I’ve been away, really far away. It’s an incredible place with the best people.” He smiled fondly. “Life is good there. I’m good there. I just wanted you to know that.”
He brushed away the dirt that clung to the stone and traced his fingers over the carvings. Marie Sheppard. Beloved Wife and Mother. 1945-1970. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, he leaned forward until his forehead touched her name.
“Learned this from Teyla,” he whispered.
Feeling a little silly but not the least bit sorry, he stood and moved back to his original spot.
“Dave told me that you regretted what happened between us. I wish I’d known that, but I didn’t make it very easy, did I?” He blew out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry - sorry that I stayed away so long, sorry I didn’t take the opportunities I had to patch things up, sorry that it ended this way. You always seemed disappointed in the choices I made, but I hope somehow you know what I’ve been up to, that maybe you’re a little bit proud of me.”
He cleared his throat again and bobbed his head. “Anyway, that’s what I came to say. I guess I’ll go now; the taxi’s waiting. So, um, goodbye.”
Retracing his steps to the cab, he paused at the open door. Turning around, he straightened to attention and saluted. Then he slid into the back seat and headed home.