[ooc; fanfic for Nepants]
Title: How Not To Let Go
Pairing/s: John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard/Donna Paakkonen (OC)
Rating: PG
Summary: It wasn't his fault she pushed him away.
Author's Note: AU from RPG canon.
When Donna was...sixteen, it must have been, John leaned in close and whispered something in her ear that stayed with her for years afterwards. He said:
"You're mine. I'm going to marry you one day."
She thought it meant they were going to be together for the rest of their lives. She was still so young and, frankly, naïve -- she thought loving someone meant nothing could take them from her. She thought being loved meant she'd be loved forever. She thought marriage was something that was sacred and nothing could break that bond.
She thought he'd be there when she needed him.
It wasn't his fault. None of it was -- the arguments that she started when he got home that one last time, the lies she told him, the things she didn't say and the growing rift between them, it wasn't his fault.
It wasn't his fault he wasn't there when she needed him to be, either. It wasn't his fault she got hurt like that -- it wasn't his fault she lost the baby, the baby he never knew she almost gave him. It wasn't his fault she cut everyone off afterwards, and it wasn't his fault she couldn't tell him. It wasn't his fault nobody else did, either, expecting her to do this one thing herself.
It wasn't his fault she pushed him away.
It's been...eight years, she thinks. The dates are blurry in her head and she can't bring herself to check definitively. In eight years, she's let herself hurt and she's tried to rebuild. It's time, she thinks, to talk to him -- really talk to him. Tell him the things she couldn't say then, she wants to make him understand. She has to try. So when she hears he's going to be back in their hometown on leave, she arranges to be there, too.
The woman with him is stunning. Taller than she is (though at 5'1", that's not hard), with short dark hair and eyes a different shade of green from hers (from his, too; their eyes are the same colour, somehow, and it's one little way she doesn't have to give him up, not yet). This woman is beautiful -- regal, almost, definitely sophisticated. She sounds educated, sure of herself, like she knows exactly what she's talking about. She walks like she owns the place and it seems to be unintentional -- Donna envies that grace and the impression of confidence without trying. He's looking at this stranger like he always used to look at her -- before she drove him away. Time to go.
"...Donna?"
Shit. Pausing midstep, she pushes her long hair -- blonde and always tousled, never up like he always liked it -- back over one shoulder and raises her eyebrow. "Heard you were in town. Goin' to introduce me to your lady friend?"
He looks bewildered. She hasn't lived in Seymour since the divorce was finalised -- she'd run fast to Chicago and made a whole new life with none of the ghosts of their past to drag her down. He's safe to assume she hasn't been back. "This is my boss, Dr Elizabeth Weir. Elizabeth, this is Donnatella Paakkonen."
Donna holds her hand out to 'Elizabeth'. His boss, huh? Kinky. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr Weir."
"And you, Mrs Paakkonen," Elizabeth replies, smoothly, noting the wedding ring Donna hasn't taken off as they shake hands. "How do you know John?"
"Ms. We're divorced."
Pairing/s: John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard/Donna Paakkonen (OC)
Rating: PG
Summary: It wasn't his fault she pushed him away.
Author's Note: AU from RPG canon.
When Donna was...sixteen, it must have been, John leaned in close and whispered something in her ear that stayed with her for years afterwards. He said:
"You're mine. I'm going to marry you one day."
She thought it meant they were going to be together for the rest of their lives. She was still so young and, frankly, naïve -- she thought loving someone meant nothing could take them from her. She thought being loved meant she'd be loved forever. She thought marriage was something that was sacred and nothing could break that bond.
She thought he'd be there when she needed him.
It wasn't his fault. None of it was -- the arguments that she started when he got home that one last time, the lies she told him, the things she didn't say and the growing rift between them, it wasn't his fault.
It wasn't his fault he wasn't there when she needed him to be, either. It wasn't his fault she got hurt like that -- it wasn't his fault she lost the baby, the baby he never knew she almost gave him. It wasn't his fault she cut everyone off afterwards, and it wasn't his fault she couldn't tell him. It wasn't his fault nobody else did, either, expecting her to do this one thing herself.
It wasn't his fault she pushed him away.
It's been...eight years, she thinks. The dates are blurry in her head and she can't bring herself to check definitively. In eight years, she's let herself hurt and she's tried to rebuild. It's time, she thinks, to talk to him -- really talk to him. Tell him the things she couldn't say then, she wants to make him understand. She has to try. So when she hears he's going to be back in their hometown on leave, she arranges to be there, too.
The woman with him is stunning. Taller than she is (though at 5'1", that's not hard), with short dark hair and eyes a different shade of green from hers (from his, too; their eyes are the same colour, somehow, and it's one little way she doesn't have to give him up, not yet). This woman is beautiful -- regal, almost, definitely sophisticated. She sounds educated, sure of herself, like she knows exactly what she's talking about. She walks like she owns the place and it seems to be unintentional -- Donna envies that grace and the impression of confidence without trying. He's looking at this stranger like he always used to look at her -- before she drove him away. Time to go.
"...Donna?"
Shit. Pausing midstep, she pushes her long hair -- blonde and always tousled, never up like he always liked it -- back over one shoulder and raises her eyebrow. "Heard you were in town. Goin' to introduce me to your lady friend?"
He looks bewildered. She hasn't lived in Seymour since the divorce was finalised -- she'd run fast to Chicago and made a whole new life with none of the ghosts of their past to drag her down. He's safe to assume she hasn't been back. "This is my boss, Dr Elizabeth Weir. Elizabeth, this is Donnatella Paakkonen."
Donna holds her hand out to 'Elizabeth'. His boss, huh? Kinky. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr Weir."
"And you, Mrs Paakkonen," Elizabeth replies, smoothly, noting the wedding ring Donna hasn't taken off as they shake hands. "How do you know John?"
"Ms. We're divorced."