Maya
Title: Maya
Author: stormylullabye
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John, Ronon
Word Count: 1,565
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death
The stories of Ronon’s past almost unfailingly make John cringe on the inside. John will never show Ronon that, of course; he’s supposed to be the strong one, the military leader of Atlantis, Ronon’s commanding officer. Over the three years of knowing Ronon, however, John thinks that he’s gotten pretty good at controlling his surprise. However, he hasn’t steeled himself so much that he’s unfeeling, which is why he reacts so violently to one story in particular, no matter how many times he hears or is reminded of it.
Ronon, as anyone who knows him is aware, is not much of a talker. He much prefers listening and observing to talking. It’s easier to protect himself and his team if he is attuned to his surroundings. Ronon is constantly being reminded that he doesn’t need to be so vigilant in Atlantis. However, after seven years as a Runner, Ronon knows that safety is never guaranteed, and so he prefers to listen and observe. He is, however, occasionally taken from his silence.
At first, Ronon spoke to let John know that he could be trusted. Then he spoke because John got him drunk, and even the most strictly trained warriors lose focus with enough alcohol. He continued to speak because just maybe he started to feel a little safe in Atlantis. He spoke to help John realize what the Wraith could do, have done, will do again. He spoke to make John feel better, because no matter how hard they try, not everyone is going to survive. Now Ronon speaks simply because John wants him to, and Ronon does what John wants.
Ronon has told John the story of Maya several times. It’s painful to recount, to relive, but Ronon does it, because John keeps asking to hear it.
“We knew that the Wraith were on their way for a little while before they actually showed up. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to get everyone off the planet in time, so we had to choose. The members of the council got to go, and they took the youngest kids with them. Anyone who could hold a weapon and point it the right way stayed behind to fight, to give the ones leaving the best chance we could. If Sateda couldn’t survive the attack, at least we knew that some Satedans would. The only other people who got to leave were the personal staff members of the council.”
John listens intently as Ronon recounts his last day on his home planet. Ronon sits stiff on the edge of the balcony, staring blankly over the ocean surrounding Atlantis. Every so often, a shadow passes across his face, and John knows that Ronon is watching the events play out again in his mind. “I had a rhoa on Sateda. I guess you would call her my fiancée. Melena was everything to me, though; my girlfriend, my wife, my keeper, my caretaker. I knew that I had to stay behind and fight, but more than anything else that day, I wanted Melena to survive. I traded everything we owned to get her onto a staff that was going to go through the Ring. I told her the news, told her to pack what little was left, and was called to battle.
“The attack started slow. They sent a couple of darts through. Scouts, I guess. We shot them down pretty easy, and then it was quiet for a while. I went back home to say goodbye to Melena, but she told me that she wouldn’t go through the Ring. She was a nurse and was determined to stay and help the people who got hurt fighting. I told her that it was pointless, that anyone who stayed behind was as good as dead. I begged her to go. I had no hope that I would survive, but still, what kind of universe would it be without Melena in it?”
John has never in his three years with Ronon seen the man cry, and he’s seen Ronon subjected to countless forms of torture. The fact that Ronon’s eyes glaze over and his hand clenches when he talks about Melena is proof enough of how much he cared for her. A slight tremble, so small that one not looking for it would miss it, runs through Ronon’s body, and the man takes a deep breath before continuing his story.
“We argued until the explosions began. Then I hugged her and kissed her with everything I had and sent her off to the hospital. There was nothing I could do; she had made up her mind. I watched her go, knowing I would probably never see her again, and ran to my post to fight. I was already planning on throwing everything I had into fighting the Wraith. Knowing Melena was still on Sateda made me put everything I had and then more into the battle.” Ronon’s voice gets lower, darker, and grittier at this point in the story as he gets angry at the Wraith all over again. He continues in a tone closer to a growl than a voice. “But nothing I did was enough. I stood my ground, firing on the Wraith as often as my weapons and accuracy allowed. Every time I readjusted or looked around, more of my men were down. The Wraith were picking them off, one by one.” Ronon trails off and lets his head fall to his chest, breathing deeply to calm himself down for a minute before recovering enough to continue.
“Eventually I was the only Satedan I could see who was still alive. I knew it was hopeless, that our city was overrun and we couldn’t win. I had to try one last time to get Melena to safety. I ran as fast as I could to the hospital. I pushed through the hundreds of injured and dead in the streets and then in the hallways of the hospital, calling her name. There were so many faces I knew in the blur going by me, and I hurt for every one of them, but I had to block that out for Melena. I finally found her in the back corner of the building. She asked me to carry a young girl to safety. I would have done anything at that point, so long as Melena agreed to come with me. I lifted the girl and told Melena to follow me. Of course, it couldn’t have been that easy.
“Melena wanted to save everyone. She was the most caring person I have ever known, and she wanted so badly to help everybody on Sateda. I told her it was impossible, but that I could get her to hiding. I think I was getting through to her. If I had only had a minute longer, I might have been able to get her to agree, to get her out of there. But right then the windows right behind her blew in, and my world was engulfed in flames.”
John can’t imagine what Ronon must have felt when he processed the reality of the explosion. It seems like something no man would be able to handle. Whenever John loses a member of the expedition, he crumbles and breaks a little bit more, and those are generally people he isn’t all that close to. He shudders and grips the balcony railing a bit tighter. He turns away from Ronon to stare at the sky and listen to the rest of his story that way, without watching the pain flash across his face.
“I laid the girl in my arms on the closest empty bed and ran forward. I couldn’t imagine anyone surviving a blast like that, but I had to know, had to see for myself if Melena was still there. I got to her side, and she was in bad shape. Somehow, she was still alive. She looked at me and apologized and told me she loved me and apologized again. Said she should have listened, should have run while she still could. Apologized again. I couldn’t understand why she kept saying she was sorry. She had nothing to be sorry for; definitely not for wanting to stay and help. I tried to calm her down, told her to be quiet. Told her I loved her too. I told her everything would be alright, even though there was no way it could be, no way that she would make it.
“She slowly moved her hand over her stomach and said, ‘I’m so sorry, Ronon. I was going to name her Maya, after your mother.’ And then she was gone.” John feels the tears moving freely down his face, as they always do when Ronon whispers the end of his story brokenly into the night air. Then, with wonder, Ronon adds, “I was going to be a father.”
John crosses the balcony and comes to stand next to Ronon. He wraps his arms around the broken form of the strongest man he has ever known, and whispers, “Thank you.”
John will never know how Ronon is strong enough to share that story with him time and time again. He only knows that hearing it told, feeling the emotion in it, is a more intimate experience than any physical contact could ever provide, and that he falls more in love with Ronon each time he listens.
Author: stormylullabye
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John, Ronon
Word Count: 1,565
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death
The stories of Ronon’s past almost unfailingly make John cringe on the inside. John will never show Ronon that, of course; he’s supposed to be the strong one, the military leader of Atlantis, Ronon’s commanding officer. Over the three years of knowing Ronon, however, John thinks that he’s gotten pretty good at controlling his surprise. However, he hasn’t steeled himself so much that he’s unfeeling, which is why he reacts so violently to one story in particular, no matter how many times he hears or is reminded of it.
Ronon, as anyone who knows him is aware, is not much of a talker. He much prefers listening and observing to talking. It’s easier to protect himself and his team if he is attuned to his surroundings. Ronon is constantly being reminded that he doesn’t need to be so vigilant in Atlantis. However, after seven years as a Runner, Ronon knows that safety is never guaranteed, and so he prefers to listen and observe. He is, however, occasionally taken from his silence.
At first, Ronon spoke to let John know that he could be trusted. Then he spoke because John got him drunk, and even the most strictly trained warriors lose focus with enough alcohol. He continued to speak because just maybe he started to feel a little safe in Atlantis. He spoke to help John realize what the Wraith could do, have done, will do again. He spoke to make John feel better, because no matter how hard they try, not everyone is going to survive. Now Ronon speaks simply because John wants him to, and Ronon does what John wants.
Ronon has told John the story of Maya several times. It’s painful to recount, to relive, but Ronon does it, because John keeps asking to hear it.
“We knew that the Wraith were on their way for a little while before they actually showed up. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to get everyone off the planet in time, so we had to choose. The members of the council got to go, and they took the youngest kids with them. Anyone who could hold a weapon and point it the right way stayed behind to fight, to give the ones leaving the best chance we could. If Sateda couldn’t survive the attack, at least we knew that some Satedans would. The only other people who got to leave were the personal staff members of the council.”
John listens intently as Ronon recounts his last day on his home planet. Ronon sits stiff on the edge of the balcony, staring blankly over the ocean surrounding Atlantis. Every so often, a shadow passes across his face, and John knows that Ronon is watching the events play out again in his mind. “I had a rhoa on Sateda. I guess you would call her my fiancée. Melena was everything to me, though; my girlfriend, my wife, my keeper, my caretaker. I knew that I had to stay behind and fight, but more than anything else that day, I wanted Melena to survive. I traded everything we owned to get her onto a staff that was going to go through the Ring. I told her the news, told her to pack what little was left, and was called to battle.
“The attack started slow. They sent a couple of darts through. Scouts, I guess. We shot them down pretty easy, and then it was quiet for a while. I went back home to say goodbye to Melena, but she told me that she wouldn’t go through the Ring. She was a nurse and was determined to stay and help the people who got hurt fighting. I told her that it was pointless, that anyone who stayed behind was as good as dead. I begged her to go. I had no hope that I would survive, but still, what kind of universe would it be without Melena in it?”
John has never in his three years with Ronon seen the man cry, and he’s seen Ronon subjected to countless forms of torture. The fact that Ronon’s eyes glaze over and his hand clenches when he talks about Melena is proof enough of how much he cared for her. A slight tremble, so small that one not looking for it would miss it, runs through Ronon’s body, and the man takes a deep breath before continuing his story.
“We argued until the explosions began. Then I hugged her and kissed her with everything I had and sent her off to the hospital. There was nothing I could do; she had made up her mind. I watched her go, knowing I would probably never see her again, and ran to my post to fight. I was already planning on throwing everything I had into fighting the Wraith. Knowing Melena was still on Sateda made me put everything I had and then more into the battle.” Ronon’s voice gets lower, darker, and grittier at this point in the story as he gets angry at the Wraith all over again. He continues in a tone closer to a growl than a voice. “But nothing I did was enough. I stood my ground, firing on the Wraith as often as my weapons and accuracy allowed. Every time I readjusted or looked around, more of my men were down. The Wraith were picking them off, one by one.” Ronon trails off and lets his head fall to his chest, breathing deeply to calm himself down for a minute before recovering enough to continue.
“Eventually I was the only Satedan I could see who was still alive. I knew it was hopeless, that our city was overrun and we couldn’t win. I had to try one last time to get Melena to safety. I ran as fast as I could to the hospital. I pushed through the hundreds of injured and dead in the streets and then in the hallways of the hospital, calling her name. There were so many faces I knew in the blur going by me, and I hurt for every one of them, but I had to block that out for Melena. I finally found her in the back corner of the building. She asked me to carry a young girl to safety. I would have done anything at that point, so long as Melena agreed to come with me. I lifted the girl and told Melena to follow me. Of course, it couldn’t have been that easy.
“Melena wanted to save everyone. She was the most caring person I have ever known, and she wanted so badly to help everybody on Sateda. I told her it was impossible, but that I could get her to hiding. I think I was getting through to her. If I had only had a minute longer, I might have been able to get her to agree, to get her out of there. But right then the windows right behind her blew in, and my world was engulfed in flames.”
John can’t imagine what Ronon must have felt when he processed the reality of the explosion. It seems like something no man would be able to handle. Whenever John loses a member of the expedition, he crumbles and breaks a little bit more, and those are generally people he isn’t all that close to. He shudders and grips the balcony railing a bit tighter. He turns away from Ronon to stare at the sky and listen to the rest of his story that way, without watching the pain flash across his face.
“I laid the girl in my arms on the closest empty bed and ran forward. I couldn’t imagine anyone surviving a blast like that, but I had to know, had to see for myself if Melena was still there. I got to her side, and she was in bad shape. Somehow, she was still alive. She looked at me and apologized and told me she loved me and apologized again. Said she should have listened, should have run while she still could. Apologized again. I couldn’t understand why she kept saying she was sorry. She had nothing to be sorry for; definitely not for wanting to stay and help. I tried to calm her down, told her to be quiet. Told her I loved her too. I told her everything would be alright, even though there was no way it could be, no way that she would make it.
“She slowly moved her hand over her stomach and said, ‘I’m so sorry, Ronon. I was going to name her Maya, after your mother.’ And then she was gone.” John feels the tears moving freely down his face, as they always do when Ronon whispers the end of his story brokenly into the night air. Then, with wonder, Ronon adds, “I was going to be a father.”
John crosses the balcony and comes to stand next to Ronon. He wraps his arms around the broken form of the strongest man he has ever known, and whispers, “Thank you.”
John will never know how Ronon is strong enough to share that story with him time and time again. He only knows that hearing it told, feeling the emotion in it, is a more intimate experience than any physical contact could ever provide, and that he falls more in love with Ronon each time he listens.