I'm not completely sure what I'm trying to say to you, Colonel, but I want you to know that I'm not angry anymore. With the help of caring friends, I've found a kind of peace. I hope you've been able to do the same.
After he'd read the letter straight through for the third time, John sat back against the steps of the southwest pier. His fingers reflexively tightened as an ocean breeze threatened to tug the paper out of his hand. Lara Ford was a strong person. Stronger than him, in some ways.
The bright-faced lieutenant with the goofy grin and the penchant for assigning lame nicknames had been a part of John's team for a year. He'd manned Atlantis's defenses after the Wraith had overrun the city. Even once the enzyme had taken hold and he'd barely resembled the Aiden Ford they'd known, his last act in John's sight had been to risk himself to save his former team. He deserved to be remembered. So did Harper, and Travis, and Markham, and all the others. John just wasn't sure how to accomplish that without going a little bit nuts in the process.
He'd heard and understood what Ronon had said ear her. Even the act of telling the story had meant something to him, because he knew he'd just heard more complete sentences from the Satedan than anyone had in months. He'd gotten the message, but he couldn't quite bring himself to fully accept it. Not yet.
The telltale snick of the door sounded behind him. He waited, not turning to look. Today was a down day for his team, and anyone who wanted his attention badly enough to find him out here could damn well hike his or her ass a few more yards.
A gentle hand dropped onto his shoulder, and Teyla gracefully took a seat on the step above his. "You and Chewie tag-teaming me today?" he asked, keeping his voice light.
"You were missed at lunch," she responded. Teyla never pushed; that was one of the many things John liked about her. Without a word he held the letter out to her.
"I do not read your language well when it is written by hand." By her expression, though, he could see that she recognized the name at the bottom of the page. "This will take some time."
"I'll wait," he said simply.
While she read, he watched the waves, unchanging and inevitable, bumping against the feet of the city. After a few minutes, she raised her head and handed the letter back. "Have you found peace?"
He was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that. Otherwise they wouldn't be out here. "It's not that simple."
"The act is not. The question, however, is."
Exhaling a long breath, he pulled one knee up to his chest. "Not completely. I don't know how. I think maybe I'm afraid of being too okay with the losses. I mean, if a Marine dies and I just pick up and move on, what does that make me?"
Her approving look suggested that his honesty was welcome. "When we traveled on the Daedalus to Sateda, I told you that your people's dedication to each other impressed me. I should have said more. I should have told you that such dedication is one of the traits I admire most about your expedition and, even more, about you."
Caught off-guard by the praise, John couldn't figure out how to reply. Teyla might have counted on that reaction, because she pressed on. "The Athosian people have suffered great losses, both before and during my time as their leader. In spite of that, we have managed to move forward. But I believe that the day I accept a loss without pain will be the day I am no longer fit to lead."
She returned her hand to his shoulder and spoke with an earnestness that he couldn't help but believe. "Like everything else, John, it is a balance. As we have faith in you to keep that balance, you must have faith in yourself."
A knot of tension in his stomach seemed to ease at her words. He looked up at her with a faint smile, hoping she'd see the gratitude there. "I'm working on it."
"Work on it between meals," put in a deep voice. "You missed beef stew at lunch."
John started, whipping his head around to find Ronon leaning against the wall by the door. "God! Warn a guy, would you?" The big man only smirked. "Have you been there the whole time?"
Pushing himself off the wall, Ronon nodded at Teyla. "She's better at this stuff than me."
Yet he'd come along for the ride anyway. The knot loosened a little further. "I don't know," John commented truthfully, climbing to his feet. "You weren't half bad."
When the door snicked open again, it revealed an impatient scientist. "Are we done dealing with the identity crisis or whatever now? I need the Colonel in the lab."
John folded his arms, choosing to let Rodney's brash question roll off. "For what?"
"What do I ever need out of you in the lab? Your gene." Rodney heaved a put-upon sigh. "As much as it pains me to say this aloud yet again, you have significantly better control with ATA-enabled equipment than I do, especially when I'm trying to operate it and take readings simultaneously. So come be a good little guinea pig for an hour. You'll still have plenty of the day left to be philosophical."
Although John had a suspicion that this was Rodney's unique way of trying to help, he played along. "Yeah? What's in it for me?"
"Funny you should ask." With a waggle of eyebrows-Rodney could not pull off a devious look to save his life-he produced a plastic baggie containing one of Mrs. Beckett's prized scones. "All yours for a single measly hour of your time."
"How the hell did you pry that away from Carson?"
Rodney waved dismissively. "It's for the furtherance of science. If he knew, he'd be honored to contribute."
That only confirmed Rodney's motives. In deference to the man's hard-earned reputation as a self-absorbed pain in the ass, John thanked him the best way he could: by not thanking him. "Don't expect me to share this," he informed Rodney, plucking the bag out of his hand.
"Please. Like I didn't steal one for myself while I was at it?"
With the help of caring friends, Lara had said.
Maybe it could be that simple after all. At the least, it was enough to see him through to tomorrow.
John tucked the letter into his jacket and let his teammates lead him back inside.