Rest by vanishing
Author's Notes:
The August fic for my "Finding What Is" series... if you read the other ones, you'll understand this one better ;) lol.
John shifted restlessly, rolling onto his back and staring up at the dappled patterns that the moon had made on the ceiling. He was a light sleeper normally, and the first night on a new planet was always rough for him. But tonight, that was not the only reason that he was worried. And it wasn't as if it was something that he didn't understand; he knew exactly why he was so uneasy.
Teyla.
This was her first time staying off-world since her dreams had begun. He would not have worried unduly about it before that---of course he would be upset; anything that bothered her always upset him---but they had all learned to deal with those previously. But these new ones were getting worse, not better, and he was scared for her. He didn't want her to wake up screaming; and he certainly didn't want the villagers who were putting them up to come in and try to figure out what was wrong, or be frightened by her. So he did the only thing that he could possibly do at that point; he laid there silently and listened to her breathe across the room from him, hoping to notice any changes that might signal the coming of her dreams, so that he could wake her before she started screaming.
He glanced at his watch for the thousandth time that night; two thirty-eight. He had started to keep track of her dreams, what nights and what times that they happened, and he realized that it was far later than normal. Maybe she would actually have a decent night's sleep for once.
"Maybe there's nothing to worry about..." he'd spoken too soon. No sooner had he formed the words of the thought than a great scream tore out of her throat. Classic.
Sighing, at least at the point where her screams didn't completely scare the crap out of him anymore, he rolled onto his knees and crawled over to her side. when he reached her he paused, unsure of what to do next. Even with these new and more awful dreams, he had never been able to bring himself to deny her request that he not try to wake her or touch her while she was in this state. He'd wanted to, very many times; but he trusted that she knew best; and she usually woke up almost immediately after, anyways. So he sat agitatedly by her side and listened to her agony, until her eyes flew opened and she reached out to grab fistfuls of his black t-shirt and pull him closer. He always tried to be there for her when she woke up; he'd discovered that touching him seemed to go a good way into dispelling her fears. And that fact gave him the idea that most of her horrible dreams had something to do with him.
As soon as her hands had contact with his chest, he reached out and pulled her closer to him, into the safety and protection of his warm embrace. She shuddered against him, and John was glad that people had the good sense to stay away; he doubted that they would find his attitude very different than an angry mother bear protecting her cubs.
"Another one?" he questioned. She nodded mutely into his chest. John frowned; he couldn't stand to see something that intangible hurting her so. He needed whatever it was to be physical, an enemy; an enemy that he could fight with his hands. He had no idea how to fight a dream.
"Are you sure that you can't tell me what happens in them that's so awful?" he persisted gently. He couldn't help asking; he had to know.
"You die," Teyla said simply.
"What about the how; can you tell me how?" She shook her head firmly no, and John stopped pressing her and gathered her closer into his arms.
"Alright," he said. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me." He sighed. "I wish that there was something that I could do to help you."
"Be there," Teyla said sincerely. "And don't die." John gave a soft laugh, hoping that her screams hadn't woken up Ronon or Rodney.
"I'll do my best with that one," he promised. "But Teyla, you know that I'll always be there for you." He saw her hesitate for a second, and it hurt him. Didn't she believe him that he would never leave her when she needed him? But then, why would she think anything different? She had no idea how much he loved her.
"I know," she said finally, her sobs gradually calming down; and John was slightly relieved. "Thank you." He smiled at her.
"Anytime," he promised. "Now you should at least try to sleep again? Things have been crazy lately, and you've probably had the worst of it. You need to rest."
"I will try," she said sleepily, shifting so that she was leaning on him more comfortably and shutting her eyes. John debated moving her and going back to his own bed, but decided against it. He didn't know why tonight felt different from all of the others like it, but he wanted to be near her tonight; he knew that he had to be. It was the only way that he knew to protect her.
Shifting around so that his back was against the wall, he let her lean on him and tried to rest.
Teyla.
This was her first time staying off-world since her dreams had begun. He would not have worried unduly about it before that---of course he would be upset; anything that bothered her always upset him---but they had all learned to deal with those previously. But these new ones were getting worse, not better, and he was scared for her. He didn't want her to wake up screaming; and he certainly didn't want the villagers who were putting them up to come in and try to figure out what was wrong, or be frightened by her. So he did the only thing that he could possibly do at that point; he laid there silently and listened to her breathe across the room from him, hoping to notice any changes that might signal the coming of her dreams, so that he could wake her before she started screaming.
He glanced at his watch for the thousandth time that night; two thirty-eight. He had started to keep track of her dreams, what nights and what times that they happened, and he realized that it was far later than normal. Maybe she would actually have a decent night's sleep for once.
"Maybe there's nothing to worry about..." he'd spoken too soon. No sooner had he formed the words of the thought than a great scream tore out of her throat. Classic.
Sighing, at least at the point where her screams didn't completely scare the crap out of him anymore, he rolled onto his knees and crawled over to her side. when he reached her he paused, unsure of what to do next. Even with these new and more awful dreams, he had never been able to bring himself to deny her request that he not try to wake her or touch her while she was in this state. He'd wanted to, very many times; but he trusted that she knew best; and she usually woke up almost immediately after, anyways. So he sat agitatedly by her side and listened to her agony, until her eyes flew opened and she reached out to grab fistfuls of his black t-shirt and pull him closer. He always tried to be there for her when she woke up; he'd discovered that touching him seemed to go a good way into dispelling her fears. And that fact gave him the idea that most of her horrible dreams had something to do with him.
As soon as her hands had contact with his chest, he reached out and pulled her closer to him, into the safety and protection of his warm embrace. She shuddered against him, and John was glad that people had the good sense to stay away; he doubted that they would find his attitude very different than an angry mother bear protecting her cubs.
"Another one?" he questioned. She nodded mutely into his chest. John frowned; he couldn't stand to see something that intangible hurting her so. He needed whatever it was to be physical, an enemy; an enemy that he could fight with his hands. He had no idea how to fight a dream.
"Are you sure that you can't tell me what happens in them that's so awful?" he persisted gently. He couldn't help asking; he had to know.
"You die," Teyla said simply.
"What about the how; can you tell me how?" She shook her head firmly no, and John stopped pressing her and gathered her closer into his arms.
"Alright," he said. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me." He sighed. "I wish that there was something that I could do to help you."
"Be there," Teyla said sincerely. "And don't die." John gave a soft laugh, hoping that her screams hadn't woken up Ronon or Rodney.
"I'll do my best with that one," he promised. "But Teyla, you know that I'll always be there for you." He saw her hesitate for a second, and it hurt him. Didn't she believe him that he would never leave her when she needed him? But then, why would she think anything different? She had no idea how much he loved her.
"I know," she said finally, her sobs gradually calming down; and John was slightly relieved. "Thank you." He smiled at her.
"Anytime," he promised. "Now you should at least try to sleep again? Things have been crazy lately, and you've probably had the worst of it. You need to rest."
"I will try," she said sleepily, shifting so that she was leaning on him more comfortably and shutting her eyes. John debated moving her and going back to his own bed, but decided against it. He didn't know why tonight felt different from all of the others like it, but he wanted to be near her tonight; he knew that he had to be. It was the only way that he knew to protect her.
Shifting around so that his back was against the wall, he let her lean on him and tried to rest.