John stood just outside the gate of Discipline cottage. He couldn't quite make himself go inside, so he stood and stared at the cottage. It hadn't changed a bit since he'd been away – more than seven years he thought, although time had blended together in such a way that it could have been more time or less without him noticing. He wished he had taken up Jack's offer to accompany him back. But, no, Jack had other things to do between the day John left Summersea and when Jack himself had to be back at Winding Circle for the wedding.
Even though Jack's offer had been less than enthusiastic and John knew that the mage was just being uncommonly considerate, it still would have been nice to have the support. John didn't do emotional farewells or greetings, and he was afraid that this was going to turn out to be exactly one of those moments. Jack's biting comments and sarcastic remarks would've kept things from getting too awkward, and his return would have taken some of the attention away from John.
A trellis of roses had grown up over the fence in his absence. Someone had watered a little too religiously and had been a little too giving with the fertilizer. They were wild and unbidden, growing every which way. John reached out to stroke a leaf. It shirked a little at his touch, knowing that its days of unhindered growth were at an end.
John sighed, frustrated, and ran a rough hand through his hair. This wasn't going well, and he hadn't even gotten the nerve up to walk through the gate yet. He should be able to do this. It wasn't like these people were strangers, after all. He had grown up with them. They knew more about him than almost any other soul (save for Jack, and maybe Sam).
But he hadn't seen them in seven years, and except for the occasional hastily written letter, he hadn't communicated with any of them in nearly as long. What did he know about these people anymore? Was Teyla still as serene and regal as she'd been when they were little more than children? Did her eyes still light up when she smiled? Would Rodney still act like the most intelligent person in the room? Was he still as impatient as he'd been while learning to control his magic? And did Ronon still shovel his food down like it might be stolen away at any moment? Was he still as fiercely loyal as he'd always been?
And there were things – things he'd witnessed, things he'd experienced – in the last few years that he couldn't talk about. Things that made it hard to sleep and even harder to be awake. Jack knew, but Jack was many miles away, and John didn't know how to explain, even to his foster siblings.
He set his bag down and leaned against the fence. He shouldn't have to work up the courage to see his family.
Rodney frowned out the window before calling, "Teyla?" He could hear her singing softly in the other room.
She walked into the room, arms laden with blankets and clean sheets and set them down on Rodney's bed. "Hmm?"
"He's been standing outside the gate for an hour now."
Teyla looked up from straightening his quilt. He'd noticed in the past two days that she seemed to have an incontrollable urge to stay busy, even when it was only straightening up after him and Ronon.
"Who has?" she asked.
"John."
In a moment she was by his side at the window, leaning on the windowsill to peer out. "What is he doing out there?"
Rodney shrugged. "Trying to take root would be my guess."
"I do not believe that his magic has extended to that point," Teyla said.
Rodney rolled his eyes. "That was sarcasm, Teyla."
"Yes, I know, and I chose to ignore it."
"What are you doing?" Ronon asked, sticking his head in the room.
"Wondering why John has been standing outside the gate for the better part of an hour," Teyla answered.
Ronon joined them at the window, crossing his arms over his chest to observe the scene outside. "John's here? What's he doing out there?"
"Good question," Rodney said. He turned to Teyla. "If he misses my wedding because he can't move from that spot, I will make lightening strike him."
Ronon grinned. "You can't do that."
Rodney mimicked his position, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can, too," he said defensively. "I did it that one time."
"That was a war barge. It was a giant target, and it was a lucky shot."
"It was skill."
"Your next act of skill almost struck you."
Rodney opened his mouth to argue then shut it. Ronon was right after all, and that time, when he was twelve years old and had actually struck a war barge with lightening had been the first and last time. Rodney liked flexing his magical muscles as much as anyone, but there was power and then there was stupidity; one could lead to the other, and they both could make you dead.
"What should we do?" Rodney asked, craning his head a little. "Should we just let him stand there?"
"He will make up his mind eventually," Teyla replied. "You know how he is."
Ronon looked at the other two with raised eyebrows. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and walked out of the room and down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"What is he-?" Rodney glanced at Teyla. "Is he going outside?"
She smiled and shrugged. She followed Ronon down the stairs and to the doorway that he had left open. She could hear Rodney sputtering quietly behind her, but she wasn't about to miss the show.
Ronon stood on the porch, arms akimbo. "Are you going to stand there all day?" he yelled to John.
John held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. His shoulders heaved up and then down in something that could have been a shrug or could have been a sigh. After a long moment, he reached out and opened the gate. Two steps and he was through, the gate swinging back into place behind him. He took a few steps forward, then stopped.
Teyla pushed passed Ronon, pausing long enough to flash him a quick smile, then hurried forward to where John had paused.
"Hi," John said when she stopped in front of him.
She studied him for a long moment. She'd often wondered what sort of man John would turn out to be. As a youth he'd been impetuous, outgoing, and loyal to a fault. He'd been the first one to throw a punch and the first one to talk anyone off of a ledge. She did not know everything that had happened to him in the last seven years – they had gone their separate ways, and had lost touch in the busyness of life. She had heard whispers of where he'd been, and Sam had told them a few stories about the horrors he and Jack had witnessed during the war in Gyongxe, but somehow Teyla had thought that John would be impervious to such things. John was the strong one, after all.
But this man in front of her wasn't impervious. She could see it in his eyes. This man was haunted.
Teyla moved forward and put her arms around him, hugging him tight. After a moment, his arms came up and he returned her hug. It was tentative, but it was a start.
She stepped back, only so far as she needed to be able to see his face. She kept her hands on his arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Welcome home, John," she said.
A little of the tension that had been in his shoulders lessened, and he ducked his head, strangely bashful. "Thanks. It's good to be back."
"Are you guys coming in, or what?" Rodney yelled from the open doorway.
John and Teyla shared a smile, and in unison they yelled back, "Or what."
"Oh, ha ha," Rodney responded. "Very funny."
Teyla slipped her arm through John's, and together with Ronon they followed Rodney inside.
A/N: An imaginary prize to anyone who can guess which SG/SGA character is based on which Circle of Magic character!