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TITLE: Like Atlantis
SUMMARY: There is nothing hidden that will not be revealed.
CATEGORY: Vignette
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: 2.08 - Conversion, 2.16 - The Long Goodbye
NOTES: For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100 challenge, keyword #061 - Winter.
Like Atlantis
There are days when John feels a bit like Atlantis, submerged beneath a sea of denial, trying to ignore the pressure of the truth.
Sooner or later, he knows it will rise to the surface, something he can't ignore, no matter how much he wants to - and he wants to keep ignoring this. Things are fine as they are. Well, not as good as they could be, but not as bad as they could be either.
Some times are more difficult than others. When other men flirt with her, skirting the edge of John's temper as shadows skirt at the edges of a candle flame; when they disagree on a course of action, plain and public; when he catches her watching him with the measuring expression that means she's not sure what to make of him.
Parts of him have already caved in, he's not sure how much longer he can keep up the pretence.
And one day, the awareness of what she means to him - displayed in a kiss when his defences are down, revealed by an enemy in possession of his body and mind - will let loose from within him and rise to the surface, plain to be seen by all and sundry.
"Colonel?" Teyla appears beside him, one hand resting on the table's surface. "May I?"
John smiles and leans back in his chair with a wave of a fork. "Have a seat."
Some days he feels the knowledge pressing at him, too powerful to be borne - like the knowledge that he's responsible for the men and women in the city, that he woke the Wraith by the thousands, that he failed the three servicemen who died in Afghanistan.
Some days, he feels the winter of his discontent freezing his soul, feels the moorings of his secrets stretch thin, so thin...
Teyla smiles briefly as she takes a seat opposite him and begins arranging her tray of food.
Not today.
- fin -
SUMMARY: There is nothing hidden that will not be revealed.
CATEGORY: Vignette
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: 2.08 - Conversion, 2.16 - The Long Goodbye
NOTES: For the
fanfic100 challenge, keyword #061 - Winter.Like Atlantis
There are days when John feels a bit like Atlantis, submerged beneath a sea of denial, trying to ignore the pressure of the truth.
Sooner or later, he knows it will rise to the surface, something he can't ignore, no matter how much he wants to - and he wants to keep ignoring this. Things are fine as they are. Well, not as good as they could be, but not as bad as they could be either.
Some times are more difficult than others. When other men flirt with her, skirting the edge of John's temper as shadows skirt at the edges of a candle flame; when they disagree on a course of action, plain and public; when he catches her watching him with the measuring expression that means she's not sure what to make of him.
Parts of him have already caved in, he's not sure how much longer he can keep up the pretence.
And one day, the awareness of what she means to him - displayed in a kiss when his defences are down, revealed by an enemy in possession of his body and mind - will let loose from within him and rise to the surface, plain to be seen by all and sundry.
"Colonel?" Teyla appears beside him, one hand resting on the table's surface. "May I?"
John smiles and leans back in his chair with a wave of a fork. "Have a seat."
Some days he feels the knowledge pressing at him, too powerful to be borne - like the knowledge that he's responsible for the men and women in the city, that he woke the Wraith by the thousands, that he failed the three servicemen who died in Afghanistan.
Some days, he feels the winter of his discontent freezing his soul, feels the moorings of his secrets stretch thin, so thin...
Teyla smiles briefly as she takes a seat opposite him and begins arranging her tray of food.
Not today.
- fin -
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Ahhh, the angstwhump. Tis good.
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