Warnings: Bit depressing and sullen, but I promise it will pick up in later chapters!!! I swear!

Spoilers: Based vaguely on the spoilers for season 4.

Disclaimers: I in no way own any part of the Stargate world, if only!! Think of the fun I could have!!!

Notes: This is an odd fic, whose various chapters have been floating around my computer hard drive for quite a while – so it stops now! It's a strange fic in a way, but it insists on being written! So here goes….maybe it will free up space for Hunter…


Teyla sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stared up at the moonlight streaking through her window. Sighing wearily she propped her chin in her hands, elbows on her cooling legs. She watched the alien moon through the glass and wondered once again whether she would ever truly begin to call this world her home. She had only been on this world for two months, yet it amazed her how even after all these years she still expected to see the stars above Athos when she looked up at night. For several years she had begun to accept the stars above the City of the Ancestors, but it too was now lost. Lost like her people. Well, not all of them. Her eyes moved to her sleeping son. He would be the last of her people.

She stood up in the blue tinted light and walked softly to her son's crib. As always when she looked down at his beautiful face, her breath caught. When she ever felt depressed or alone, she needed only to look at Tagan's face and be reminded of the blessing she had received. Reaching in quietly she stroked the soft baby hair that framed his face, his skin so soft and delicate beneath her fingertips. He sighed softly in his sleep and she smiled down at him. So small, yet so full of life. He was a good child, he slept well and seemed contented. Teyla wondered whether he understood on some level the stress she had lived through, that he too had survived. That they were the last of the Athosian people, their home world destroyed twice over and now visitors on an alien world that was now to be their home. They were alone in the universe. Alone.

Annoyed at her downward thoughts she turned gathered up her robe, a blanket and moved to lift Tagan out of his crib. He grumbled slightly in his sleep, but did not stir. She tucked him amongst the blanket, held him close pausing to breathe in his baby smell and headed quietly out of her bedroom.

The house was silent around her as she moved along the landing towards the stairs. This was becoming a regular habit she mused to herself, creeping through the dark house at night sleepless and chilled. Once at the stairs she paused noticing the other bedroom door was open slightly, again as it always was. She moved silently down the stairs, stepping onto each step with well practised ease creating no creak to disturb the house.

Once down the stairs she turned into the lounge area. The moonlight glowed through the thin curtains across the sliding doors to the garden. She moved through the glowing full moon light and laid Tagan down in another crib. He shifted slightly hiccupping briefly, but slid back into a deep sleep. Once she was happy he would be warm enough she moved to the large sofa nearby, sliding onto its deep cushions and pulled up her cooling feet from the floor. She tucked up against the cushions, and arranged the blanket over herself, reached out for the remote and switched on the television. Lowering the volume she flicked through the channels until she found a black and white movie.

As she snuggled down into the sofa her eyes fell on the wicker basket sat at the centre of the coffee table. She had learnt the skill of basket weaving as a child on Athos. The house now held several similar items that she had made, testaments to her long lost world. As she gazed at the basket set before the flickering movie behind it, memories of her homeland returned. She had had to accept the loss of Athos and her people, knew that she had done all she could have and had barely survived herself. In her heart she accepted the loss, for the sake of her son she had to move forward, yet she still could not sleep. Night after night she tossed and turned in her bed, sleep only arriving in the early hours of the morning once Tagan had been fed. Only then did she fall asleep from pure exhaustion. Always down here, curled up on the large soft sofa with her son's soft breaths nearby reminding her she was not alone.


John woke for no apparent reason, the bright moon light shining through his curtains. Mumbling he buried his head under the duvet and tried to slip back into sleep. However, it refused to arrive. Muttering he peered out at the clock, 4:36am. Laying back onto the mattress he tried once again to fall back to sleep. He missed the sound of the ocean. Ever since the loss of Atlantis he missed the sound. So many nights there he had fallen into a peaceful sleep to the gentle constant sound of the ocean encircling the city. Now the absence of the sound seemed to keep him awake. He wondered whether he should get one of those machines that simulates the sound of the ocean, perhaps it may help Teyla sleep. He realised the time meant she was probably down there in the lounge tucked up on the sofa.

Shoving aside his duvet he climbed out of bed, drew on his dressing gown and headed out of the room. Across the landing her bedroom door was wide open. He trod softly down the stairs, to find her curled up on the sofa as expected.

John crossed the room to stand in front of the sofa. She was asleep. He sat backwards down onto the coffee table, moving aside the Athosian style basket slightly as he did. He wearily rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the graze of stubble against his palm. She looked so small when she slept down here. Though admittedly the sofa was extra large and comfy. He had insisted it be so, saying that if she was going to sleep on it so often then she should have a large comfy sofa. In the moonlight and flickering light from the television she looked pale and cold. He reached over and pulled down the throw from the back of the sofa and draped it over her, taking the time to tuck it around her feet where they poked out from under her blanket and robe. This was becoming a habit; finding her down here, covering her with the throw.

He had spoken quietly with several doctors in the SGC, but they all had assured him that with the loss of her people and with a young baby it was not unexpected. But, it bothered him.

John looked around the lounge, noting the Athosian items. He had wanted her to include as many of her possessions in the decoration of the place, but in truth she had very little left of Athos. She said she was happy here, happy to find a home on Earth. And he was happy to have her as a house mate. He wanted her to be as happy as possible here.

During the day she seemed happy enough when she spoke, when she talked with people. Yet, he saw the lack of sparkle that she had once had. The only time he saw it now was when she looked at Tagan. John turned to look at the nearby crib. Tagan slept soundly, twitching slightly lost in a dream. John wondered what babies dreamt. Would Tagan have any memories of what his people had been like? John stood and moved to stand over the small form.

He liked the little guy enough, but he hardly spent much time with him. Being still so young Tagan did little more than sleep, eat and cry. John kept busy at Stargate Command, often spending days away. Teyla stayed home with Tagan, most days being interviewed by various scientists, anthropologists and whatever. Her wealth of knowledge of another galaxy and its cultures seemed to be of never ending interest to those people. She appeared happy to give it, and to spend her time with Tagan. She seemed to have a very guarded feel about her son, and John felt that in losing her people she now put extra energy into protecting Tagan. John looked down at the little baby and saw the indications of Teyla in his features, but also mixed in there were the characteristics of another man. A man that John had never meant. He knew he had been Athosian and he had died on New Athos along with the others, just prior to the destruction of Atlantis. In a more mature and honest part of his mind he wondered whether that was why he had little contact with Tagan, because he was another man's son. Those feelings confused him.

He and Teyla had never spoken about Tagan's father and John had kept his affections for her to himself, but the tension between them was still ever present, and now was added to by Tagan's existence. It was best to keep a distance, John felt, and that seemed to extend to Tagan in someway. John rarely held the baby and had never been alone with him. He wondered whether Teyla had noticed, but again it was part of what was unsaid between them. It was the enormous elephant in the room, both of them ignoring the issue and never drawing attention to it. When he had offered her a home with him as a house mate she had taken him up on the offer gleefully. She had looked so trapped and cornered living deep underground in Stargate Command. He had made sure to find a house with a good sized garden, so she could sit out in the sunlight and that Tagan could be safe to run around in once he was older. On the rare times they went shopping together John had been complimented on his beautiful family, which again was never mentioned. It was strange and uncomfortable for him, yet he would not have them anywhere else.

He turned back to Teyla. What else could he do for her anyway? He checked the throw and blanket were still covering her completely, turned off the television and left her and her son alone to sleep.