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Whenever he dreams about Atlantis, she is still up in her office where she is supposed to be.
“There is something on your mind,” Teyla says, as she helps Sheppard back to his feet.
Once he’s up, Sheppard rubs his hip where he hit the mat. He and Teyla don’t spar as much as they used to, and when they do, he’s finding it harder and harder to ignore that he’s getting older.
“Oh yeah?” he says. “What’s that?”
Teyla rolls her eyes, not bothering to humor his evasion. “You aren’t fighting back.”
Sheppard shrugs a shoulder, and leans down to grab the bantos rod he dropped before bringing them both up again.
She keeps her bantos rods low by her hips, but he knows her well enough by now to know that doesn’t mean she’s not ready. He can show her fight. He moves toward her, but she defends his strike, gets a solid hit on his right bicep, and suddenly he’s on the mat again. He’s not even entirely sure how she got his feet out from under him this time.
“That was not fighting back, John.”
She doesn’t bother to help him up this time. He grumbles as he sits up on the mat and then just stays there, like a toddler recovering from a tantrum. Teyla doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, she sits across from him.
Patience. That’s Teyla’s game. She knows he doesn’t have any, and she has more than anyone should, so if she just waits…
“It’s her birthday,” Sheppard says.
Teyla nods.
“Seems like we should do something.”
“What do you want to do?”
Sheppard shrugs. “Time travel?”
She smiles a sad smile that he can’t look at.
“I dunno. There’s probably nothing to do. Just seems like there should be.”
“This is the first year you’ve mentioned it.” Teyla’s voice is soft and gentle and he wishes it weren’t. “Since she died.”
Sheppard pushes himself up to his feet, gritting his teeth against all the aches make him want to keep sitting on that mat. “Anyway. I need to get ready to meet up with those new teams they sent over.”
Teyla tilts her head up at him. “Okay, John,” she says, and he wishes she didn’t know him so well.
Whenever he dreams about Atlantis--and they’re usually nothing dreams about some neverending list of tasks he should’ve had done a month ago or all the power went out and nobody knows why or everyone’s been replaced by Wraith or Replicators and they’re all trying to kill him--she’s up in her office where she’s supposed to be, but he never goes up to see her. He just knows she’s there.
Sheppard reports to Woolsey about the new teams. They’re green but they’re excited to be in the Pegasus Galaxy, the usual. He sits in the chair across from Woolsey’s desk like he’s in the principal’s office.
And he definitely knows that feeling. He spent most of his sophomore year in high school in the principal’s office. His dad used to say “if your mother were alive, she’d be so disappointed in you using her death as an excuse to act like this” and he used to say “if Mom was still alive, she’d tell you to shut the fuck up” and then he’d be grounded for the foreseeable future.
He taps his fingers against the arm of the chair to distract himself. Woolsey’s saying something and he’s half listening, but he keeps nodding as if he’s processing all of it. When he’s done, there’s no small talk. Sheppard just leaves.
By the time he gets to the mess hall, everybody’s already started eating. McKay’s talking excitedly about something between bites. Ronon looks bored, and usually Sheppard would go save him, keep McKay from dominating the conversation without hurting his feelings about it… But the thought is exhausting today. Even just sitting with them quietly seems exhausting. He grabs some water and an energy bar and heads for his quarters instead.
Once he’s there, he’s not sure what to do. He ends up sitting on the edge of his bed with his guitar, playing some licks he learned off of a Johnny Cash record when he was a kid. He never had the patience to learn to play properly, but sometimes just playing around with it is the only thing he can do to keep from thinking.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been picking little pieces of songs out of the strings when the door slides open and he stops playing immediately.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Teyla asks.
Whenever he dreams about Atlantis, she is still up in her office. And as long as he never goes up to check, he’d never know if she’s gone.
Teyla pulls over Sheppard’s office chair to sit near where he is on the bed, still holding on to his now silent guitar. She brought a tall candle with her and sets it on his bedside table.
“What’s that for?” he asks.
She takes a deep breath and looks directly at him, and he’s suddenly glad that he has his guitar between them. That little extra bit of distance.
“Shortly after we met,” she begins, “Elizabeth mentioned to me that your culture burns candles on your birthdays to symbolize the years that have passed.”
Sheppard clenches his jaw. Hearing her name is always strange now. “Yeah, that’s something we do.”
“After she died, I started burning a candle on her birthday. I am not sure if it’s appropriate, but… As you said, it does seem like there is something we should do.” Teyla’s brow furrows slightly, and he recognizes that expression. Pain. The kind of pain you don’t want to admit to, even though everybody feels it when they lose someone. “I thought this year we could burn a candle together. And… perhaps talk.”
Sheppard runs his thumb back and forth over the 6th string of his guitar. “Talk about what?”
“The things we remember,” she says. “The things that we miss.”
“Okay…” His throat is dry. His nose stings. “But if, uh… if you are going to light a candle. There’s a song that goes with it. I gotta play the song.”
Teyla smiles that sad smile again, but this time, he doesn’t look away. He adjusts the guitar and his fingers find the notes. As he plays, Teyla lights a match and puts it to the candle wick.
Whenever he dreams about Atlantis, he wakes up knowing that Elizabeth is still there, somewhere. Maybe not in her office where she’s supposed to be, but her voice is in the hum of Atlantis. If he listens closely, he can still hear her.
Maybe, when Sheppard finally lays his guitar aside and he and Teyla talk late into the night about the things they remember, the things they haven’t mentioned in so long, all the things they miss about Dr. Elizabeth Weir… maybe she hears them too.