Summary: His mistake haunts her dreams and she wonders if its just his fault.Teyla/Bates friendship.
Spoilers: Season one "The Gift" and "Seige Parts 1 & 2"
A/N: Not betaread. Feedback appreciated, including constructive criticism.
From the Shadows
She always appeared here first. The corridor right next to where it happened.
In the dark crevices of the structure she stood and watched. She felt him first, the cold creeping closer, permeating her soul. She knew who, what, it was before she ever saw the hulking figure closing in. The first time her breath had caught in alarm and she'd fought the urge to close her eyes and wish it away but he had looked right through her when he glanced around, just like the time in the jumper. 'Bob' slipped through into the generator room.
And then she heard the footsteps. They had a rhythm to them; strong and sure. He'd swagger through the halls humming a tune foreign to her. Her heart broke because he looked so happy as he got closer to the station. It was contrary to how she usually saw him, she'd never seen this simple pleasure at doing his job. The brief moment where he seemed forget the weight of their woes.
She saw him stop outside the doors, eyes darting about and ears listening keenly, taking in the minuscule sounds, muffled by the door, that the wraith inside was making.
Every time he'd choose to open the door without calling for backup. His usually suspicious mind making a dreadful mistake to think nothing much of it.
She wanted to scream at him, to cry out and tear him away from the door controls as he went to sue them. But she was paralysed; forced to witness every second of the incident. She felt like a ghost in it, with no power; only regret left. She heard his surprise and that he put up a decent fight before he is knocked out. Then Bob emerges with Bates's radio tagged onto his armour, hanging like a trophy on his person.
That's when he sees her. His vicious grin of victory exposes his gruesome teeth. She doesn't know why they even need teeth but maybe thats why they don't clean them. Sometimes he takes her inside that room to see the results; the man she thought she hated sprawled out on the floor helpless.
Tonight she's smiling back at the sight. Her mind rebels but her body is not her own and it's feeling the desperate hunger gnawing within. Here she's the enemy just likes Bates feared.
And she's the death of him, having no control over herself. The invitation is there and it's all she needs. Her hand pounds down to meet his chest, abnormally sharp nails digging into soft flesh. As blood springs forth out of the wounds she feels a joy, and then his eyes open staring back wide as she drains him until he's old and grey, but even then he manages to glare accusingly.
She find herself shaking, hands moving to grip the sheets on her bed and prove she's alive and this is real this time. There's no wraith hovering over her but she's still afraid. Her breathing steadies and her tremours pass but her fear stays with her. She's awake but that no longer chases away the demons. They are deeper than anyone can reach, apart from in her dreams where one thing has become clear. She doesn't have demons; it's worse than that, she is one.
Those nightmares induce a terror stronger than the real things do. She's stood in front of wraith recently and felt nothing but anger. Now these phantoms penetrate her consciousness further than she thought possible – but she knows why. It's herself she's scared of, who she hates. A portion of her makeup that she wants to rip away but can't. She doesn't know if it's a blessing after all because if it's her talent to sense them then she should have known they were in the city. The look he gave her in the dream reminds her of that fact, as if it's her fault he's injured.
He's perfectly fine, except he does not wake unlike her. He may never return to them and what might may not be the same man. They can't be sure he's even in there to save anymore. But each time she has the dream she visits him to see, in case maybe something has changed.
This morning Julie greets her and pulls up a chair next to the bed as usual, and so she, Teyla Emmagan, sits patiently at the side of the man who's insulted her as badly as anyone can. But she does this because she's starting to think he was right, it is her fault in some small part at least and all she can do to make amends, until he wakes up, is this. If he survives she will be here to tell him. She doesn't know what she'll say yet but when the day comes she is confident she will. He deserves at least that because she admits no one deserves this, even him. Maybe if he was right about her then she was wrong about him – this is his second chance but he can't appreciate it yet. She hopes one day he will wake up and by then she'll have found those words to say whatever it is she wishes to.