John has never been good at this, this comfort thing.
It was one of the (many) things that his ex-wife hated about him. In his head he always felt like he didn’t say the right thing and he never had any idea what he could possibly. Personally he thought it was a good thing that all his closest friends are guys. Guys didn’t need much by way of comfort; it was never much more a pat on the back (Rodney) or a knock-down drag-out fight in the gym (Ronan).
But Teyla…. Teyla was unlike any other friend he had ever had. She was thoughtful, always considerate and supportive of those who needed it, most often Elizabeth in her times of crisis but often him too, when he felt lost under the strain of command and leadership.
She was delicacy overlaid on steel. Yes, steel because above all else Teyla was strong, after years of fearing and then fighting the wraith, of protecting her people. In the last four years he had neve seen her crack, never seen her falter. He had seen her placid, he had seen her angry, he had seen her disappointed and best of all he had seen her laughing. But he had never, ever, seen her cry. It was that which broke him. Someone, a friend, was dead again so soon, and again it was all his fault. He didn’t want to see any one else till he had worked that through and he didn’t think they wanted to see him either, why would they?
But then the chime rang out and the door opened and there was Teyla with tears running down her face. And when she moved into his arms, he did what felt right. He let her cling to him, let her pour out her sorrow against his body, and, after a moment of hesitation, he held her as close as he could. He would be her steel this time, her support when she had no other, and he hoped that that, or him, would give her some small measure…. of comfort.
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Comfort
John has never been good at this, this comfort thing.
It was one of the (many) things that his ex-wife hated about him. In his head he always felt like he didn’t say the right thing and he never had any idea what he could possibly. Personally he thought it was a good thing that all his closest friends are guys. Guys didn’t need much by way of comfort; it was never much more a pat on the back (Rodney) or a knock-down drag-out fight in the gym (Ronan).
But Teyla…. Teyla was unlike any other friend he had ever had. She was thoughtful, always considerate and supportive of those who needed it, most often Elizabeth in her times of crisis but often him too, when he felt lost under the strain of command and leadership.
She was delicacy overlaid on steel. Yes, steel because above all else Teyla was strong, after years of fearing and then fighting the wraith, of protecting her people. In the last four years he had neve seen her crack, never seen her falter. He had seen her placid, he had seen her angry, he had seen her disappointed and best of all he had seen her laughing. But he had never, ever, seen her cry. It was that which broke him. Someone, a friend, was dead again so soon, and again it was all his fault. He didn’t want to see any one else till he had worked that through and he didn’t think they wanted to see him either, why would they?
But then the chime rang out and the door opened and there was Teyla with tears running down her face. And when she moved into his arms, he did what felt right. He let her cling to him, let her pour out her sorrow against his body, and, after a moment of hesitation, he held her as close as he could. He would be her steel this time, her support when she had no other, and he hoped that that, or him, would give her some small measure…. of comfort.