Below is an excerpt from my Soul-Eating Fic, previously titled Faithful, currently titled Three Days in Limbo which is slightly less lame. This is primarily a Teyla story (because the discussion over at teylafen made my brain go all wacky) but the narration duties fluctuate between her and Shep, and this is one of his scenes.
John woke from a dream in which all four of them had returned to Atlantis, safe and sound, and Rnaer had only been another chapter in the long horror story known as the Atlantis Expedition. Until one day he noticed that Teyla was holding a small bundle against her breast, smiling and cooing, and John asked to see it, and when he looked down at the baby it was not a baby at all but a Wraith, and it was not nursing. It was feeding.
“Nightmare?” asked Ronon as John shook himself awake, shuddering.
“Yeah.” By the single light he could see Rodney slumped in his corner, sleeping. Drooling.
“That happen often?”
John pushed himself up, groaning at the stiffness in his joints and the dampness of his bed. “Actually, back on Earth, before all of this, I was always an insomniac. Everyone else in the house would be asleep but I’d just lie there, staring at the ceiling until dawn. Then I’d have to try and catch naps wherever I could.” When he’d been a kid that had meant dozing off during English class. And math class. And science class. His teachers had hated him. “The funny thing is, now when I go to bed I’m always out like a light. At first. Then I have some weird-ass dream about bugs or Wraith,” or Sumner, “or some other damn thing, and I wake up, and I just lie there until the sun comes up.”
He glanced towards toward Ronon’s corner a little sheepishly and cleared his throat. He hadn’t meant to say so much.
“I know I have dreams,” said Ronon, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “They say everybody does. But I don’t remember them. When I sleep it’s just a blank.”
“Lucky,” commented John.
“Maybe. Except sometimes I get the feeling that all the nightmares I’ve put off remembering are going to hit me all at once, and it’ll drive me insane.”
The rain drummed on.
In this windowless cell, John only knew that morning had come because it was when he was finally able to drift off into troubled sleep.