FIC: John In The Box
Title: John In The Box
Main Characters: John/Teyla.
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Romance
Summary: All the things John keeps to himself.
Spoilers: Up to and including The Ark.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.
Unbeta'ed so it's all on me. I'm currently working through all the loose ends on my computer so I can move on to bigger plot-bunnies. They aren't exactly as I'd like them to be so I'll reserve the right to maybe change them later. Suggestions are welcome.
Enjoy though.
Technically, Teyla’s the one who pulls away from their kiss. But she’s only sensing and reacting to the change in him, often imperceptible to others but that she seems able to spot a mile away. She leans out of the shadows and the light catches her face.
“John?”
When he was little it looked like his Action-Man lunchbox. His most favorite thing in the whole wide world. Maybe that’s how it started, the concept of the box.
When Ray Carter kicked his ass in the third grade just because he had braces, he thought about that lunchbox. As he lay on the dusty playground-floor kissing dirt, he flashed to the picture of Action-Man on the lid, poised and ready for action, ostensibly strong and able. All his anger and fear and hurt went into that box and he picked himself up. He didn’t hit Ray back. He made a joke, everyone laughed and the next day Ray kicked his ass again.
In high-school, the box took on a new appearance and a more cemented quality to it. His parent’s divorce, his first heartaches, the feelings of separateness and aloneness, they all went into the box.
In college he pretended it didn’t exist and launched into the freshman experience with enthusiasm. It lasted a while, there were parties and sex but eventually reality set in. There was no escaping the destiny of being his father’s son, he didn’t belong there.
Once he joined the Air Force it mutated into a big metal footlocker. Other hardships appeared that needed stuffing in and his mind adapted. The short and failed marriage, Afghanistan, the banishment.
But the army turned out to be the only place on Earth where his box not only came in handy, it made him better equipped, it made him an excellent soldier. They taught dissociation, the ability to look past your feelings and do what needs to be done. What came to him naturally was actually something people did research about, studied and taught.
Of course he stayed, even went to Antarctica. He stowed all the issues away, followed his conscience and it kept him sane. It took him to a whole new galaxy and a purpose. A place where he could and has made a difference.
So many things go into the box nowadays. Between discovering an alien race that regards humans as crops and a city full of so many things they don’t understand that it is in itself dangerous, he finds himself cautiously opening the box on practically a daily basis. Carefully, because over time and particularly over the last three years, so many things have been crammed in that he fears they’ll spill out and turn against him. Kinda like Pandora’s Box and the crappy way it ended up releasing all the things it was supposed to protect from.
That’s why it unsettles him. The way she sneaks things out of the box without him noticing it. These days he pictures it more like a dark mahogany chest with carvings. And Teyla has an uncanny way of opening it when he least expects it.
Of course there is the fact that she’s become one more thing to go in. At first it was just sexual attraction. Something he could recognize and indulge in. But later, there were other things, reactions he couldn’t quite understand, situations he couldn’t explain.
Like when Charin died and he wasn’t around and when he saw her again she seemed so sad he felt like jumping in whole. Or the look on her face the first time she ever tasted ice-cream or popcorn. The way she looks in fatigues with a P-90. When it comes to Teyla, it cuts deep, so it all goes in the box and that worries him. The good and the bad. He doesn’t want to lose any of it, but can’t seem to be able to hold on to it either.
She asked him about Holland and every flippant remark fled his mind. She strolls right in, asks her questions and the box tells its tale. It has about a lot of things. The good and the bad. He supposes it means she knows him now, but that only makes him want to keep it closed even tighter.
He hadn’t seen his mother in years before she died. He secretly would like to be half the soldier his father is and is afraid he won’t be. Sumner haunts him. Out of all the men and women who died in his service, he wonders if he could have saved even one. Michael, the Wraith he let go, he wonders how many deaths will directly or indirectly be linked to their actions and if that means he’s responsible. He wonders where Ford is and if that’s his fault too. He misses him.
He hurts from being around Teyla. It is one of the most rewarding and painful experiences in his life. She’s his teammate so he keeps his hands off. She’s a beautiful woman so he’s attracted to her. She’s been so kind, so kind to him. Understanding, strong, loyal and present. She is his friend and the feelings she brings out of him he can’t even begin to sort out. Because they live dangerous lives and if one day, something was to happen to her, would that be his fault too?
All this he stores away and it keeps him strong and able. The price to pay is to turn away when she smiles a little too radiantly and touches his arm so familiarly. It’s having conversations where he tells her he’d die for her and then pats her hand before walking away. Thank you for what you meant to say. He crash-landed an alien aircraft to save her and he smiles and says he’d do it for anyone.
It keeps the box intact, the boundaries present and his life can play out as it always has. You don’t teach a dog new tricks and you can’t expect a Air Force Colonel to throw away caution, rules and even yes, fear and follow his heart. It’s not what he was taught and to be really honest… it’s not who he is.
Her sigh tells him she understands. But…
“This time, you will have to find the words yourself, John.”
“I’m sorry, Teyla.”
The sound of the box slamming shut as he walks away is at once comforting and dispossessing.