Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Spoilers: Up to 5x03
Author's notes: This isn't a new story...I posted it on my LJ a while back, but thought I should post it here for good measure. :) This is in response to Beya's Black and White Challenge. Angsty and not happy. At all. Don't say I didn't warn you. I'd love to hear what you think.

If John lived in a world of black and white, the decision to tell Teyla how much she meant to him would be a clear one. He would have confessed his suppressed feelings and she, in turn in this perfect two-toned world, would have declared her love for him. There would be no indecisions or second-guessing; their love would be stark white in the world of darkness.

Instead of living in the utopia of contrast, John was submerged in a world of charcoal, silver and slate.

At the heart of the issue was Kanaan. John wished he could hate the man for being in the position he wanted to be.

He couldn't despise Kanaan because he was a good man.

When the Athosian was finally allowed to come on base, one of the first things he did was seek out John. With a hearty handshake, he thanked the colonel for saving Teyla and his son and was honored his son was named after such a brave man.

Though he was nervous, Kanaan was good around Torren. The love he felt for his son was sincere and abundant, something John knew the child would appreciate as he grew up. Numerous nights John saw Kanaan holding Torren, humming an unfamiliar tune, trying to get the child to sleep. If he saw John in the hallway, he would smile at him and nod then continue to bond with his son.

His relationship with Teyla was something that admittedly John did not think about too often. They were still awkward with each other, still trying to understand the new boundaries that came with having a child and living on the same planet. They had stumbled a few times, much to John's guilty delight, but so far, their progress was still moving forward.

The chimes on his door sounded, pulling him from his morose thoughts. He stood up, scrubbing his face. With a great effort, he forced a smile on his face and he opened the door. Teyla, Kanaan and Torran stood on the other side of it.

"John," Teyla said softly, "thank you again for doing this."

"Not a problem. I'm just glad that I was able to help out." He hoped Teyla wouldn't detect the sarcasm in his voice.

She handed him Torren and an overfilled diaper bag. "We should not be long." To the child, "Be good for the colonel."

"Thank you," Kanaan said, placing his hand on Teyla's shoulder, leading her away from John.

As the doors slid shut, Torren gurgled contently at John. "Well," John said with a sigh, "I guess it's just you and me now."

Gray, John thought with distain, is the worst color in the world.