Fic: That Was A Truth (Stargate Atlantis)
Title: That Was A Truth
Author: fydyan
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: PG
Spoilers: John-centric spoilers from Sunday.
Pairings: none
Summary: Truth does not always come easily. Understanding is even harder.
John had been married. That was a truth, right there. Another truth was that John had known, in the first moments of their meeting, that she was his. She was his to love and protect, even when the only protection he could offer was health insurance. He had never made love with his wife, not once. He had held her, he had kissed her. He had watched her shake and weep as the battle raged within her. He had done all he could, and for years he couldn't quite explain why.
John had thought that he would never be able to explain why, until he found himself in a helicopter with a stranger that he would rather die than see come to harm - and it had nothing to do with the rank of general. He hadn't understood, not even while failing to bawl out the man who launched a missile at him, not even while futilely flipping a coin. Not even when reason deserted in the face of ancient beauty.
When his wife died, John barely understood the hole that opened up in his world. It was beyond sense for someone he'd known less than a year. It was beyond reason and logic and anything he knew of emotions, and anything he knew how to deal with. It was a hole that started to fill in a helicopter, in an arctic bunker, and in a chair that sang the stars.
It was by no means the first death, but it was the first death that had them standing in the chair room, shell-shocked and aching and bewildered. All of them, Beckett, Parish, Kusanagi, and Taylor -- all of those who had arrived in Pegasus able to turn on the lights and listen to the city. Kusanagi had only met Markham once, she said, shattered and shaking with grief. Of them all, John knew him best, and that was not very well at all, even with the nightmare with the bug and the wormhole.
When John first met his wife, he knew she was dying. He didn't know that she was part of a dying race, and that he was, also. He didn't know compulsion, or the ache of approaching extinction. John couldn't explain, but he was happy to call it love. He would have been happy to keep calling it love. That was a truth, right there.
Author: fydyan
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: PG
Spoilers: John-centric spoilers from Sunday.
Pairings: none
Summary: Truth does not always come easily. Understanding is even harder.
John had been married. That was a truth, right there. Another truth was that John had known, in the first moments of their meeting, that she was his. She was his to love and protect, even when the only protection he could offer was health insurance. He had never made love with his wife, not once. He had held her, he had kissed her. He had watched her shake and weep as the battle raged within her. He had done all he could, and for years he couldn't quite explain why.
John had thought that he would never be able to explain why, until he found himself in a helicopter with a stranger that he would rather die than see come to harm - and it had nothing to do with the rank of general. He hadn't understood, not even while failing to bawl out the man who launched a missile at him, not even while futilely flipping a coin. Not even when reason deserted in the face of ancient beauty.
When his wife died, John barely understood the hole that opened up in his world. It was beyond sense for someone he'd known less than a year. It was beyond reason and logic and anything he knew of emotions, and anything he knew how to deal with. It was a hole that started to fill in a helicopter, in an arctic bunker, and in a chair that sang the stars.
It was by no means the first death, but it was the first death that had them standing in the chair room, shell-shocked and aching and bewildered. All of them, Beckett, Parish, Kusanagi, and Taylor -- all of those who had arrived in Pegasus able to turn on the lights and listen to the city. Kusanagi had only met Markham once, she said, shattered and shaking with grief. Of them all, John knew him best, and that was not very well at all, even with the nightmare with the bug and the wormhole.
When John first met his wife, he knew she was dying. He didn't know that she was part of a dying race, and that he was, also. He didn't know compulsion, or the ache of approaching extinction. John couldn't explain, but he was happy to call it love. He would have been happy to keep calling it love. That was a truth, right there.