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What’s it like?
It’s the question she is asked the most by the children in her village. Not pleas for stories of her adventures or the tales of the people she’s met, nor of the team she’s just joined. But… how does it feel?
She imagines they are curious for it is a right of passage amongst her people for the young ones of their village to take a trip through the ring of the Ancestors once they come of age. The Middlelings that have already passed have made it a bit of a game to convince the young ones that it will hurt, that it is something to be feared. She has held many a youngling in her arms, promising them it is a magical experience, and one worth excitement. Not fear.
Teyla has never feared entering an event horizon, not even when she was a youngling herself. The experience has always brought her peace. It is not a pleasant experience, per se. In fact, she struggles to come up with any reasonable explanation of how it feels to be demolecularliszed and then put together again on the other side of a wormhole. Describe with any reasonable accuracy the peace that comes with being one with the universe, if only for a fraction of a second, to return to that of which she was born. Complete. Content.
Teyla immediately senses that something is different about this trip. How, for the first time in her life, she senses danger as she dematerializes with the unconscious, dead weight of John Sheppard gathered in her arms. That there should be disquiet and confusion in the sensation of being deconstructed as the wormhole prepares to deposit her on the other side of the galaxy. It lasts for a fraction of a second longer than it should and suddenly she’s back, dread settling into the pit of her stomach.
John’s weight is too much for her and it sends them crashing to the puddle jumper floor. Rodney joins their heap a moment later, sputtering and cursing as he scrambles to regain his footing.
Teyla ignores his consternation and focuses her attention back to John. There is a large gash on the side of his neck, steadily leaking blood. His face is paler than an Athosian dawn and it terrifies her. She presses her fingertips to the side of John’s neck, just as Carson had taught her and feels nothing.
“Rodney, help me.”
For all his failings, Rodney is quick in a crisis and wastes no time in helping her to roll John onto his back. She can feel the change in pressure when the rear hatch of the puddle jumper opens and admits the medical team that has been waiting on standby. She has begun… what do they call it here? CPR is the acronym that someone gave her but it’s meaning has long since been lost to her. She has barely begun pushing down on John’s chest before Carson is there. Deft hands pulling her away, a soft voice promising they can take it from here as his staff begins to take over.
John’s uniform is cut away, exposing his chest. Carson barks out orders, as efficient and focused as her own tribe’s healer. Orders that are quickly obeyed. She has only been with these people a short while, but already she can sense their dedication, their loyalty, especially to the man spread out on the floor before her.
John is attached to a myriad of medical contraptions she has no names for until the cockpit is filled with the mechanical whine of their machinery. A long, high-pitched wail from one particularly insignificant machine seems to draw everyone’s attention at once.
“Epi,” Carson calls out gently as drugs are administered into the IV’s that have appeared on John’s arms. Teyla has to work hard to give things their proper names. Focuses on it really, to occupy her mind with something other than the idea that John Sheppard may be dead. She’s seen so many miracles here in the city of the Ancients. Surely Atlantis can pull one more from its depths and bring this man back to life.
Prayers spring to her mind. Powerful and ancient words that make her fingertips tingle with intent. If her people were informed of their predicament aboard the jumper then Teyla imagines they are saying those same prayers with her now. Collecting that power she focuses on the man in front of her and her lips move involuntarily. She knows she holds no magic, but the atmosphere in the jumper still feels charged. As though Atlantis herself were holding her breath and praying right along with Teyla.
She closes her eyes as John’s face disappears beneath an apparatus she’s pretty sure pushes air into his lungs. Looks away when Carson orders everyone to stand clear of John and uses that same contraption that started all of this, to try and end it. Tries not to wince as an electrical shock is delivered to John’s chest that is so intense, she can see his entire torso lift from the jumper floor in her periphery.
“Again.”
Looks up to meet the concerned eyes of Elizabeth Weir before nodding and forcing herself to look back over at John. Carson has an ear pressed to his chest.
“We have a pulse.”
Everyone in the jumper seems to let out a collective breath all at once. Elizabeth collapses bonelessly down onto the bench behind her and Rodney walks away.
“He’s going to be alright.”
Teyla closes her eyes and sends up one final prayer of thanks. It is over.