Dreaming Wide Awake - Chapter Two
Title: Dreaming Wide Awake
Summary: Sequel to Frozen in Place. With her life coming to a painful and untimely end, Teyla stepped into the stasis pod, never expecting to open her eyes on the world again. Then, one day, she did.
Rating: T
Warnings: none
Pairing: John Sheppard/Teyla Emmagan
Length: ~600 words
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10302825/2/Dreaming-Wide-Awake
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard, or ... well, much else really. Too bad. For fun, not profit.
Comments: My continued thanks to nacinom for her amazing beta work.
For untold hours Teyla drifted, continuously hovering somewhere within the great divide between unconsciousness and awareness. There were times when she would cross near enough to waking she could almost, almost open her eyes, only to then be swallowed whole by nothingness, perhaps never to return. But the majority of the time she spent somewhere in between; somewhat aware of her surroundings, but feeling … murky. Strange, as though she was underwater while the veiled tenor of life moved around her, a cold whisper of static forever in the background.
She existed as though she lived inside a dream.
As she moved in and out, she heard ambient sounds, voices-some that sparked a sense of recognition and others completely foreign-and snippets of conversations. She had great difficulty holding on to details. An apology. Things had not gone according to plan. For John, the matter seemed settled even as Teyla struggled to recall what had happened at all. The smell of coffee wafted in at some point and John paced.
In the hazy passage of time, the pain ebbed and she floated. The raspy, aching whine that had become commonplace with every inhale slowly dissipated until nothing remained, except the pure act of breathing.
She sighed aloud, a brief expression of relief that broke free.
“Teyla?”
Her foggy mind jolted back into a pale semblance of cognizance as John called for a doctor, but she could already feel the pendulum swinging her back toward the darkness, pulling her away again. Teyla gripped onto the edge of the precipice, not quite ready to let go of the sound of his voice.
“You need to give it more time, General,” the female voice from earlier admonished him. “As fast as these little guys work, catastrophic multisystem organ failure isn't something they can just slap a Band-Aid on.”
“I know,” John said, quiet and resigned, “It's just … it's been a long time.”
It was true, she thought. She had been in this bed a long time. At least, she thought she had. Had she been? Teyla's mind moved at a frustratingly torpid pace as she slipped further. But something in John's voice told her that wasn't what he meant. A deep and penetrating sorrow. Enduring regret.
General? Teyla questioned herself belatedly. The woman had referred to John as “General.” His promotion to full Colonel had been only a little over a year ago. When had John become a general?
Despite the worry creeping in, Teyla couldn't think. She tried to resist the mesmeric pull carrying her downward, but it was a losing battle. She only hung on to consciousness by the barest shred.
There was a brief pause, then the doctor said, “Don't worry. She seems to be stabilizing. She'll get there soon enough.”
John never answered. Teyla only heard a heavy exhale and then his hand returned to completely cover hers. One thing she remembered with no trouble and no doubt-she loved it when he touched her. Her questions flickered and died as her body reacted in eager acceptance, innately granting her the most splendid essence of peace. His borrowed warmth and the soft brush of his skin reminded her she was alive, stoking a fire where there were only sparks left among the ashes.
As she succumbed to the cold whispers demanding she submit to oblivion, she embraced the euphoric memory of what it had been to sleep once in the fullness of John's arms, the final piece in her entire world holding her tight and refusing to let her surrender to providence. Safe. Home.
Teyla didn’t fall. She flew.
Summary: Sequel to Frozen in Place. With her life coming to a painful and untimely end, Teyla stepped into the stasis pod, never expecting to open her eyes on the world again. Then, one day, she did.
Rating: T
Warnings: none
Pairing: John Sheppard/Teyla Emmagan
Length: ~600 words
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10302825/2/Dreaming-Wide-Awake
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard, or ... well, much else really. Too bad. For fun, not profit.
Comments: My continued thanks to nacinom for her amazing beta work.
For untold hours Teyla drifted, continuously hovering somewhere within the great divide between unconsciousness and awareness. There were times when she would cross near enough to waking she could almost, almost open her eyes, only to then be swallowed whole by nothingness, perhaps never to return. But the majority of the time she spent somewhere in between; somewhat aware of her surroundings, but feeling … murky. Strange, as though she was underwater while the veiled tenor of life moved around her, a cold whisper of static forever in the background.
She existed as though she lived inside a dream.
As she moved in and out, she heard ambient sounds, voices-some that sparked a sense of recognition and others completely foreign-and snippets of conversations. She had great difficulty holding on to details. An apology. Things had not gone according to plan. For John, the matter seemed settled even as Teyla struggled to recall what had happened at all. The smell of coffee wafted in at some point and John paced.
In the hazy passage of time, the pain ebbed and she floated. The raspy, aching whine that had become commonplace with every inhale slowly dissipated until nothing remained, except the pure act of breathing.
She sighed aloud, a brief expression of relief that broke free.
“Teyla?”
Her foggy mind jolted back into a pale semblance of cognizance as John called for a doctor, but she could already feel the pendulum swinging her back toward the darkness, pulling her away again. Teyla gripped onto the edge of the precipice, not quite ready to let go of the sound of his voice.
“You need to give it more time, General,” the female voice from earlier admonished him. “As fast as these little guys work, catastrophic multisystem organ failure isn't something they can just slap a Band-Aid on.”
“I know,” John said, quiet and resigned, “It's just … it's been a long time.”
It was true, she thought. She had been in this bed a long time. At least, she thought she had. Had she been? Teyla's mind moved at a frustratingly torpid pace as she slipped further. But something in John's voice told her that wasn't what he meant. A deep and penetrating sorrow. Enduring regret.
General? Teyla questioned herself belatedly. The woman had referred to John as “General.” His promotion to full Colonel had been only a little over a year ago. When had John become a general?
Despite the worry creeping in, Teyla couldn't think. She tried to resist the mesmeric pull carrying her downward, but it was a losing battle. She only hung on to consciousness by the barest shred.
There was a brief pause, then the doctor said, “Don't worry. She seems to be stabilizing. She'll get there soon enough.”
John never answered. Teyla only heard a heavy exhale and then his hand returned to completely cover hers. One thing she remembered with no trouble and no doubt-she loved it when he touched her. Her questions flickered and died as her body reacted in eager acceptance, innately granting her the most splendid essence of peace. His borrowed warmth and the soft brush of his skin reminded her she was alive, stoking a fire where there were only sparks left among the ashes.
As she succumbed to the cold whispers demanding she submit to oblivion, she embraced the euphoric memory of what it had been to sleep once in the fullness of John's arms, the final piece in her entire world holding her tight and refusing to let her surrender to providence. Safe. Home.
Teyla didn’t fall. She flew.