Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate.
A/N: This is set directly after "Michael", so if you didn't see that episode, you probably won't care much for this little drabble.
The Man Within
Night had once again fallen on Atlantis. Teyla looked out of the outer corridor window. The water moved like a slumbering beast, bouncing back the colorful lights of the city on it's tremendous rising chest. How many times had she stared out at the world, but how few times she had taken the other perspective, watching Atlantis from far away. She had thought that a different view would make all the difference, but now, after this day, she had to assume that no matter where one stood, beauty was beauty and a monster still a monster.
What had she called them? Evil? Life takers?
And was it not true? The wraith were wicked, and yet she had given one of them the time of day, all because he had worn a human suit.
"It was not a mask," she reassured herself, wrapping her arms around her tight body.
"It was temporary, however you look at it." Ronon walked to her side, the broad man looking like a beaten dog. "Do not blame yourself. He fooled many."
Teyla shook her head, lips pursed into a strained grin. "But not you. You always regarded him a wraith. I saw too much of the man."
Ronon put a hand on her back gently, cautiously. Teyla could see that his usually hard demeanor was shaken from the simple gesture. "Perhaps, the man belongs within. Maybe bringing him to the surface only took away the fragment of humanity left a slave to the monster."
Teyla wiped a palm against the edge of one eye were wetness had gathered without her knowledge. She was tempted to smirk at the odd situation. How often did she shed tears, and Ronon act as a counselor? One would think that they were not themselves. Teyla looked up at Ronon. He had known nothing—he was just being as temperament as usual.
Michael, the man who had been wraith, had seemed like an innocent without his memories, cravings, because he was one—until he gained knowledge. She had opened her heart, laid the foundation for friendship, but it had all been set in lies. Nothing that relied on a lie could last for very long. Teyla had been so entrapped, and Michael had betrayed her trust. But had she not betrayed him first? The questions fogged her mind, pushing weariness on her like a plague.
"Then did we free that part of him?"
Ronon didn't reply. If he answered yes, than that would mean that only a soulless creature, a writhing, life stealing insect remained in a two legged husk. If he said no, he would be leaving her with hope of finding the human part again.
Teyla stared back at the rocking waves. She wanted to find Michael, and she wanted to kill he wraith that he felt so determined to be again. "It has been a long day," she excused, walking past her teammate and back toward the inner city.
"Dream well," Ronon whispered after her, eyes cast down. As for the one called Michael, Ronon wanted him gone forever, no matter whether he wore a man's skin or a wraith's. He only wished that Teyla would quit looking out for something false when there was already a man standing before her.