SGA: The Year of Jubilee, PG-13, gen, 4/4
Unfortunately, Sheppard had the belt crisscrossed over his wrists the day his people showed up to rescue him. There’d been two tantrums during dinner, one because Sheppard burned himself on the pot and one because he wanted to crawl under the table and climb up Ronon for comfort afterwards. The belt averted another incident where the furniture went flying, Ronon ended up covered in his own rations, and Sheppard was too upset to eat but sincerely wanted to chew on Ronon’s fingers.
Sheppard’s people didn’t take it that way.
Ronon didn’t even see them. Sheppard’s behavior had utterly ruined his vigilance to outside threats. He only noticed anything because Sheppard suddenly looked past him, turned completely white, and dropped his drinking glass so hard it rolled off the table and shattered on the floor.
It was only two people. Teyla and the angry round man Ronon vaguely remembered from his short time in the city years ago. They were both armed, but there should have been a squadron of soldiers behind them.
“Sheppard!” The man cried. He wasn’t holding his weapon very attentively, its barrel was somewhere to the left of Ronon’s head.
Teyla’s aim was far more centered. Her gun was pointed directly at Ronon, even as her huge eyes were glued to Sheppard. Carefully, Ronon let his arm drop to his side, dangling close to his own gun. Sheppard got up from his seat, knocking his chair over. He darted towards Ronon, trying to put his body between him and the gun sights.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Sheppard chanted. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot.”
“Colonel?” Teyla questioned.
“Drop your weapons,” Sheppard said. He tried to spread his arms, but the belts were tight enough to stop the movement. Unfortunately, it also drew attention to the fact that he was bound. Suddenly both guns were held much more levelly at Ronon.
Neither one obeyed him.
“What?” asked Teyla’s companion. “How about no?”
Sheppard reached out and tried to fold his trapped arms around Ronon, even though Ronon was still seated.
“Are you hugging him?” the other man asked, incredulously.
“Ronon,” Teyla said, finally. “What is going on here?” There was no softness to her face, not like had been there every time before.
“Long story,” Ronon said, meeting their eyes over Sheppard’s trembling shoulder. His hands were blocked from view, so he took the opportunity to flick the knot in Sheppard’s bonds and set his arms free. This only resulted in Sheppard’s arms swinging out and folding around Ronon’s torso completely.
Teyla stared, her weapon still held level. Her companion was distracted again, his gun off to the side.
“What the fuck?” he said.
~
In their place, Ronon would have shot himself dead. Teyla was probably a skilled enough marksman to have done it without harming Sheppard. But she was too generous to kill him without question. Her companion was less trusting, but he didn’t open fire either. Ronon counted it as another time these people acted in his interest rather than theirs. He didn’t really understand it.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to explain the situation to them. Sheppard did it for him without saying a word.
“John?” said Teyla, cautiously leaning forward.
In response, Sheppard only tightened his grip on Ronon, tension radiating from his every pore. He had his forehead rested against Ronon’s shoulder and he was holding it there as hard as he could.
Ronon shoved his chair backwards, away from the table. He figured, correctly, that Sheppard would earnestly try to scramble up and straddle his lap. It was something he tried to do a lot, but Ronon usually wouldn’t let him. Sheppard was heavy and too big to fit and nine times out of ten he managed to land on one of Ronon’s balls.
But today, it illustrated his point and at the same time allowed Sheppard’s people to move closer and see for themselves. Ronon laid the flat of his palm against Sheppard’s cheek and shoved, trying to force the man’s face away. Sheppard went, probably because he really couldn’t directly resist. But once his head was up, his gaze fastened to Ronon’s face, deliberately ignoring the peering faces of his friends.
“What did you do to him, Conan?” snapped the man. But for all his anger, the gun was slipping flat against his body. Sheppard flinched hard at the words, fingernails digging into Ronon’s skin.
“His name is Ronon, Rodney.” Teyla corrected, and her companion rolled his eyes. She leaned closer, one hand moving off of her gun and reaching out to Sheppard. “John,” she said, softly. “Do you know who we are?”
Sheppard ignored her. He gave no outward sign he even heard her, though Ronon saw his face flicker when she spoke. He continued to avoid looking anywhere near the two.
“He showed up like this,” Ronon said, since Rodney looked about to make another accusation.
“When?” asked Teyla, her voice still soft.
“And when was that?” Rodney demanded, at the same time.
Ronon shrugged, or tried to with both Sheppard’s arms locked around him. It had probably been a few months.
“Colonel Sheppard left Atlantis four months ago,” Teyla said.
“Okay,” Ronon said.
“Four months!” Rodney exploded. “He’s been here four goddamn months and you just decided to keep him?”
Teyla was equally unhappy, but she was a lot quieter about it. “Why did you not contact us?” she asked.
“Brought him back once,” Ronon reminded her. He wasn’t sure if it warranted mentioning that Sheppard had smashed the only direct line of communication.
Teyla’s head tilted to the side as if unwilling to explain why that wasn’t a reasonable response. Ronon knew it wasn’t, but there wasn’t much else to say.
“Wait,” Rodney yelled. Ronon was beginning to realize that was just the volume the man spoke at. “You’re using the ‘Gee, mom, he followed me home’ excuse? Sorry, that’s doesn’t fly, Medusa.”
He was really winding up, getting louder and louder, using words that Ronon didn’t fully understand but gathered were insults. It was annoying and Ronon couldn’t do anything about it with Sheppard in his lap. Actually, he probably couldn’t do anything about it at all if he didn’t want Teyla to shoot him, and that was annoying, too.
“What, did you need four months for him to teach you table manners?” Rodney was saying.
It happened too quickly for Ronon to react. He hadn’t thought Sheppard had that much agility or speed in his condition - or hell, the inclination - so he didn’t expect it. Rodney, evidently, also didn’t expect Sheppard to turn around in Ronon’s lap and launch a punch directly at the man’s face.
It didn’t land solidly. Sheppard had a bad angle and his typical shitty aim. It caught Rodney half on the mouth, half in the neck. Despite its poor quality and the fact that it couldn’t have been that hard, Rodney stumbled backwards, gagging and gasping, and then losing his footing and dropping to the floor.
For a second, Teyla jerked in place as if she didn’t know where to turn. Then, maybe deciding Ronon wasn’t a threat, she dropped to her knees to follow Rodney.
Ronon didn’t see what happened next, because he had to turn his attention to Sheppard, who socked him in the jaw with an elbow. It wasn’t the same type of violence, wasn’t intentional. It was what he usually did when he wanted to end up being pinned down with full body contact from Ronon. Except he already had that, and was flailing his arms anyway. Ronon found his wrists and grabbed them hard enough to seriously hurt. He pulled Sheppard in towards his face.
“Knock it off,” he ordered.
Sheppard looked at him with dark, cloudy eyes. But he was stilling in place, even as emotion churned in his face.
Rodney was getting back to his feet, screeching something about Ronon telepathically controlling Sheppard. His lip was split and bleeding, his chin flushed red. It wasn’t clear if that was from the punch, though, since his whole face was flaming, too.
Teyla had hold of his arm, and his gun was hanging loose.
“I do not think that is the case, Rodney,” Teyla said.
Rodney did not stop screaming. Ronon tuned it out. It wasn’t important, unless he convinced Teyla to shoot him. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the tension still strumming through Sheppard.
“We need to speak to him,” Teyla said. “Alone.”
Behind her, Rodney was still yelling. She waved her hand sternly at him and the sound finally died. He grabbed his mouth, brow furrowed. “Broken jaw,” Ronon heard him mumble angrily.
“He’s not well,” Ronon said, still not releasing Sheppard’s hands. “He doesn’t like it when I leave.”
And that sentence made Sheppard spasm violently, trying to twist his body and wrap it further around Ronon even though his hands were still trapped.
“We are his friends,” Teyla said, sharply. “Release him, he will not hurt us.”
“Right,” Rodney said, somewhat quietly. “Sheppard would never do that, but this lobotomized cabbage would.”
Keeping hold of Sheppard’s wrists, Ronon shoved the rest of him off, forcing his feet to the floor. Then Ronon stood, took a step, and planted Sheppard back in the chair. “Don’t hit them,” he said.
Sheppard looked up at him, and tears were already swimming in his eyes.
Unsure of what would happen, Ronon let go of the man’s hands. Sheppard didn’t move. His arms sank down, slowly, hands coming to grip his own legs.
Ronon tilted his head towards the door, indicated he’d go stand in the hallway, unless he heard noises suggesting Sheppard was trying to beat the hell out of his friends.
“Thank you,” said Teyla. She sounded harried, but genuine.
“Get lost,” said Rodney, equally genuine.
~
It turned out, Ronon gave the wrong order. He should have commanded Sheppard to stay in the chair. Less than two seconds after Ronon left the room, there was a tremendous crash and Rodney started screaming again. By the time Ronon stepped back in the room, Sheppard was gone. Teyla was delicately picking herself up from the remaining splintered planks of the dining table, and Rodney was jabbering hysterically and gesturing towards the still swinging door on the other side of the room.
Without a word, Ronon took off after him. Sheppard wouldn’t get far. He was too clumsy and disoriented to move fast, and he probably couldn’t run away from Ronon even if he wanted to.
He was wrong.
Sheppard vanished somewhere in the depths of the mansion. Ronon never even caught a glimpse of him. There was some initial evidence of his path - the crash of broken vases and knocked over furniture, and Sheppard stubbed something that left a short blood trail - but then there was silence and stillness and nothing.
Rodney chased after him, followed shortly by Teyla - who was walking funny and making a really grim face.
“Where is he?” Rodney yelled. “Where’d he go?” He was waving his gun around, a weapon Ronon knew fired live ammunition that would puncture and kill rather than stun.
Vaguely curious if the feeling of aggression and annoyance that resurfaced would bring Sheppard from his hiding place to strike out again at Rodney, Ronon reached out and snatched the weapon out of the man’s hand.
“Huh?” Rodney said, suddenly wide eyed and empty-handed. “Hey! You! The - That - Teyla!”
Behind him, rubbing her hip with one hand and clutching her gun with the other, Teyla understood the score. “You do not want to shoot Colonel Sheppard,” she said.
“Oh,” Rodney said. Then, angrily: “I know that! Give it back, you mutant!”
Ronon looked down at him, waiting for something.
“I’m not gong to shoot you, either,” Rodney said, finally. And when Ronon handed the gun back, “Not til we have Sheppard back, anyways.”
Ronon smirked and Rodney took a frightened step backwards.
Teyla totally ignored the exchange.
“We need to find him,” she said, hand rubbing her hip.
Sheppard’s flight was maybe the best way the reunion with his people could have occurred. His friends’ suspicion of Ronon became secondary to locating Sheppard, and probably diminished the idea that Ronon was fully in control here. Rodney still clearly felt that the situation was entirely his fault, and maybe Teyla did, too, but she was a lot quieter about it.
More importantly, Sheppard’s vanishing act meant Rodney produced an armful of Ancestor technology with which to find him, and mostly stopped talking to Ronon. The pile of electronics somehow told him where Sheppard was hiding.
It was Ronon and Teyla who went to actually retrieve him. This prompted a howling protest from Rodney. Ronon had to stop listening, purposefully walking off and waiting just out of earshot in the hallway. He didn’t really need all that technology to find Sheppard. The man definitely wouldn’t leave the building. If Ronon didn’t go find him, he’d half bet Sheppard would come looking for him.
But if he was to return Sheppard to his people - and that was the plan and the thought that had been going through his head when Sheppard decided to bolt - it was probably time to act like their opinions mattered. Ronon was a little surprised at the emotion itching in his chest at the thought of giving Sheppard back. It was relief, he figured. The amount of attention and energy and interruption to Ronon’s life involved in having him around was too much. Ronon had never wanted the company of a human pet and he should be glad to get rid of him.
It didn’t take Teyla long to convince Rodney to stay where he was and direct their efforts to find Sheppard. Well, ‘direct’ was her word, but even if she was holding some kind of glowing Ancestor tablet, Ronon didn’t think it or Rodney’s help would really be needed. But it would give him some distance from the incredibly noisy man and opportunity to hear Teyla’s condemnation of him, if she wanted to give it.
“Has he been in this condition the whole time?” Teyla asked, as they walked down the hallway and descended the stairs. Rodney was talking to her in an earpiece, telling her Sheppard was somewhere in the basement. The question was mild but Ronon knew she would assess his response.
“Mostly,” he said. Then paused, because that wasn’t really true. “Gotten worse,” he admitted. “Never been this bad before.”
Teyla looked at him with hard eyes, but didn’t comment.
“We sent a team to Aracha to investigate,” she said. “Covertly,” she added.
“Yeah?”
“None of their slaves were in this condition,” she said. “They retained their mental faculties.”
Ronon waited for her to finish. Sheppard hadn’t been in his right mind from the moment they’d met in the Arachan marketplace.
“They also do not wear the - ” Teyla paused, searching for the word - “object,” she settled on, speaking it with total distaste. “In their necks.”
“How do they get it off?” Ronon asked. He didn’t take her words as an accusation. He figured ripping it out would kill Sheppard.
“Their masters remove it upon such time as their obedience is assured,” Teyla said, still making a face.
Teyla went silent, letting her words linger in the air. “You are his master,” she said, finally.
“Is that why you came here?” Ronon asked.
“In part,” Teyla said. “We began to suspect Sheppard would have been compelled to follow you. And we received intelligence from a trading partner describing Sheppard traveling with a stranger.”
“Oresta,” Ronon confirmed.
Teyla was looking at him again, clearly wanting an explanation why he had kept Sheppard’s presence secret. And Ronon found he really didn’t have one, so he said nothing.
Raising a hand to her ear, Teyla pointed to a vent cover in the wall. “Rodney says he is in there.”
“Why didn’t you bring backup?” Ronon asked, wrenching the grate off.
“I thought you would be friendly to me,” Teyla said, standing behind him. “And less welcoming of a larger force.”
“You’re right,” Ronon said. He could see Sheppard’s legs, curled up in the end of the vent where it turned into a vertical shaft. “I’m gonna go get him.”
Teyla peered curiously forward, but she didn’t move. “I will stay here.”
Pulling Sheppard from the vent wasn’t hard. The man had exhausted himself; his skin was clammy and the pajamas soaked in sweat. He didn’t fight Ronon, couldn’t even summon the strength to do anything but wrap his arms around Ronon’s shoulders when he crawled close enough. The tight quarters of the vent made getting back out slow and cumbersome, but Sheppard held on to him and made no effort to stop their progress.
Ronon shoved Sheppard out first, heard some kind of strange muffled rumble before he emerged after him.
Teyla was no longer alone. She was surrounded by a dozen of Sheppard’s people, all dressed in that black uniform and all armed. And all aiming weapons at Ronon.
Mildly, he looked at Teyla. She was being held back by one of the soldiers. The man wasn’t gripping her arm hard enough to keep her in place if she truly wanted to get away and she wasn’t trying to.
“Colonel Carter disagreed,” Teyla said, without pretense. “A retrieval team was sent to follow us.”
Ronon nodded. Sheppard took that moment to figure out what had happened and freak. He struck out in all directions, and Ronon went to grab him as he had a thousand times before. This time, one of the soldiers produced a Wraith stunner and sent them both into oblivion.
~
Ronon woke up in a holding cell in the City of the Ancestors. His gun was gone, but they’d missed about two dozen of his knives. Nothing else to do, he sat on the floor and waited for someone to notice he was awake. At the very least, he’d probably be fed before anything else happened.
They didn’t feed him first. Soldiers took him to see the blonde woman in charge, who wasn’t nearly as restrained with her anger as Teyla had been. Ronon didn’t feel the need to explain himself to her, but he understood her feelings. It was her job to protect these people, this city. In a few harsh words, she managed to convey that his future depended on if Sheppard’s mind could be restored.
He was taken to the infirmary next. Sheppard was tied to a gurney by his arms, legs, and neck. He was awake, unable to move, and he looked terrified. The lady doctor Ronon had spoken to last time was pacing by his bedside.
“He’s pumped full of sedatives,” he heard her say. “I wanted him to calm down but stay conscious so we’d know the immediate affect of that thing coming off. It didn’t really work.”
Ronon sat down by the gurney, ignoring the presence of his guards. The doctor cautiously moved closer to him. Teyla was standing on the other side of the gurney besides the city leader, her dark eyes on him. He didn’t see him, but Ronon could hear the unmistakable noise he now associated with Rodney coming from somewhere else in the infirmary.
“Alright,” said the doctor. “You should just be able to pull it off. That’s how it works.” She nodded with a confidence he didn’t think she felt. “But do it slowly.”
First, Ronon undid the neck restraint pinning Sheppard’s head down. He put one hand heavily on the man’s gowned shoulder, feeling the shuddering response that hopefully meant he was providing some comfort. With the other, Ronon gently turned Sheppard’s head away. The ugly twisted metal came into view as Sheppard’s cheek dropped to the pillow. It was possible, he knew, that this would kill the man. But Sheppard had twice requested death rather than live like this, and that thought filled Ronon’s mind as he took hold of the device and steadily began to pull.
The thing came out immediately, without a sound. It seemed to shrink in Ronon’s hand, its spines retracting from Sheppard’s skin and vanishing into itself. It took maybe two seconds until it was completely out.
There was only silence for a moment. Then, Sheppard turned his head toward Ronon. He gasped twice then his eyes fluttered up and closed.
~
Sheppard slept for three days. Ronon spent that time confined in the holding cell again. Now, he spent most of that time analyzing the cell for security weaknesses and formulating various attack plans to overpower the guards. He would have to leave the city, regardless of if Sheppard woke up intact, or never woke up at all.
Teyla visited each day, usually to bring a meal and inform him that Sheppard’s condition had not changed.
“You gonna kill me if he dies?” Ronon asked on the third day, blunt because he was ready to be done with this.
“No,” Teyla said immediately.
He believed her, but she wouldn’t say what fate her Colonel Carter intended if Sheppard was lost to them. If not death, maybe life imprisonment. Ronon didn’t intend to remain long enough to serve anything more than another few days.
On the morning of the fourth day, Sheppard woke up. Teyla came briefly to tell Ronon, but she didn’t disclose if he was in his right mind or not. She didn’t come back that evening. The outcome, Ronon assumed, wasn’t good. The soldiers who brought him his meals said nothing, either. They were probably too well trained to try to get their own vengeance, anyway, or maybe they hadn’t liked Sheppard. He decided to delay his departure by one more night, if only so he would know if Sheppard still lived.
The fifth day, Ronon got a new visitor. He was in the process of aiming his sharpest knife at the wires of the security camera watching him, and when the door opened he had to covertly drop the blade down his sleeve without stabbing himself. Without looking backwards, he knew the footsteps were too heavy to be Teyla and the soldiers who brought him meals always said things like “Don’t move!” after they entered.
Ronon turned around, arm falling to his side and the blade dropping down his forearm back into its concealed sheath within his clothes.
Sheppard was standing in the doorway.
He looked so different Ronon almost identified him as just another soldier in a black uniform. But it was Sheppard, standing there stiffly with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked, probably, like he was supposed to. But it had been years since Ronon had seen him healthy, so it was just strange. His posture was strong, his face forcefully blank of expression. And he was staring at Ronon like it was him that was different.
“Hey,” Ronon said.
Sheppard let out a little breath. “Hey,” he said. Then, “Want to take a walk?”
The guards outside Ronon’s door didn’t follow them as they exited. Ronon took it to mean that Sheppard was well.
They walked in silence to an outer pier, mostly because Sheppard said nothing and Ronon was waiting for him to speak.
“You’re okay?” Ronon said, finally, because Sheppard didn’t speak first.
“Yeah,” Sheppard said, slowly. “I woke up, realized that thing was outta me, feel like a brand new man.”
“You remember?” Ronon asked. He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear. Sometimes Sheppard had very obviously been aware, other times not at all. And if Sheppard remembered nothing, it wouldn’t absolve Ronon anyway.
“In living color,” Sheppard said, without hesitation.
“Oh,” Ronon said.
“Yeah,” Sheppard said. He stopped walking, then, turning to lean again the rail overlooking the water.
Ronon halted, too, stepping to stand beside him. He noted the space between their bodies, how Sheppard didn’t immediately try to sidle up to Ronon.
“I should have returned you to your people,” he said, eyes on the blue, frothing water below. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh,” Sheppard said. “Didn’t really expect you to say that.”
Ronon shrugged. Sheppard was looking down at the water, too, in no great hurry to make eye contact, either.
“It’s true.”
“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. But he didn’t sound upset, just kind of calm. “Though, Colonel Carter told me they didn’t figure out the secret to -” he waved a hand up by his neck “ - until last week. All that would have been different is that you probably would have spent the last few months in that holding cell.”
Now, Ronon looked at him.
“Okay,” Sheppard amended. “You would have spent until you managed to escape the holding cell.”
Ronon nodded.
“And I would have had some really unfun time in the infirmary with a lot more people watching me act like an insane clingy vegetable.” He cleared his throat, the idea clearly distasteful. “So, even if you didn’t do it on purpose, I’m grateful you spared me that.”
“Okay,” Ronon said. It sounded like he was being forgiven. He didn’t know why, but he would take it.
“Let’s never speak of it again,” Sheppard said, totally serious. “As far as I’m concerned, it never happened."
Ronon looked at him. “Okay.”
“Good. Anyways,” Sheppard said. “I convinced Colonel Carter that you didn’t do anything that we should keep you for - not that we could even if you had - and that I was just crazy not compromised into telling you the most effective way to invade Atlantis, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention to her that I did.”
“No problem,” Ronon said.
“Good,” Sheppard said. He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, silently watching the waves crash below. “I’m kind of surprised you stuck around,” he said, then.
“Was gonna leave today,” Ronon said, honestly. “Wanted to hear if you survived.”
Sheppard gave a tiny, amused smile. “Gonna miss me?”
And that was an unfair and dumb question, so Ronon didn’t answer it.
“Sorry,” Sheppard said, then. “But I’m serious. Outside of that sick thing in my head, you’d make a powerful ally for this city.”
“I’m one guy,” Ronon reminded him, as if Sheppard hadn’t lived on Ronon’s empty planet for the past few months.
“One guy single handedly waging war against the Wraith across Pegasus,” Sheppard said. “I was there, remember?” Ronon didn’t reply, wondering what Sheppard was trying to get at. “You could benefit from some friends, too. I’m not offering you to join this city,” Sheppard continued, “because you said no last time and because I told Colonel Carter I wanted you gone so I wouldn’t have to think about the last few months. Not entirely untrue. I’m not in a hurry to give her the idea that I still want to snuggle with you.”
He stepped away from the railing, body turning back towards the city. Ronon followed and together they walked a path Ronon realized would probably bring them to the city’s Ring.
“So maybe not tomorrow,” Sheppard said, as they walked. “But with Atlantis’ technology and your Wraith intel, we could help each other out.”
That wasn’t a terrible idea. These people hadn’t yet been culled, they must have been doing something right.
“Your people gonna be okay with that?” Ronon asked, remembering the last time Sheppard had wanted him to stay in the city.
“Eventually,” Sheppard said, sounding confident. “Carter’s military so she knows good strategy and she’ll like what you’ve done with a one man army. Rodney’s afraid of you, but he’ll get over it. And I promise he’s not always that annoying."
“You’re the one that hit him,” Ronon said.
“Because you wanted to,” Sheppard said, easily. “Anyway, Teyla’s always liked you. And we don’t clear all our offworld allies with the IOA, they don’t even have to know.”
“Sure this isn’t cause of that thing?” Ronon asked, as they enter the room where the Ring stood. “It still making you do stuff?”
Colonel Carter, Teyla, and Rodney were standing at the base of the Ring, clearly waiting for them. From the expression on the blonde’s face, she probably shared that suspicion. Rodney definitely had a similar opinion.
“That thing worked both ways,” Sheppard said. “I know why you wouldn’t get rid of me.”
The Ring was dialing, the chevrons each lighting up in turn with Sateda’s address.
“Let’s be friends,” Sheppard said, shoving into Ronon’s hands another radio/dialing device like the one he’d smashed all those months ago. “Less happy naked fun time in the bathtub, more Wraith-killing this time around.”
“Okay.” Ronon said. He paused. “Give me back my gun.”
“Rodney,” Sheppard said.
Slowly, his face twisted in a pout, Rodney stepped forward and produced Ronon’s gun from behind his back. “Oh, right, this old thing.” But he was even slower to hand it over, until Ronon snatched it from his hand. “Since Sheppard’s making us be friends,” Rodney said, mildly, “can I take that apart and see how it works?”
“No,” Ronon said, and holstered it.
“Friends share,” Rodney said, and Ronon totally didn’t believe Sheppard that the man wasn’t always this annoying.
“In time,” Teyla said, stepping forward as well. “Safe journey, Ronon. I hope we will see you frequently on better terms.”
“Try not to kidnap anyone else,” muttered Rodney.
“We’ll contact you in a few months when the dust has settled,” Carter said.
“When she believes I don’t secretly want to obey you anymore,” Sheppard translated, with an amount of false cheer.
“Yeah,” Carter said, casually. “I’m not convinced of that yet, but as a show of good faith, we’ve sent you some supplies through to Sateda.”
“Food,” said Sheppard.
“Kinda like a ransom,” Rodney said, and Teyla might have pinched him in the side, because he squeaked and flinched in place.
The Ring lit up, the wormhole exploding down the ramp. Ronon looked toward it, took a step. He was unsure what to say. Instead of punishment, they were giving him freedom. He’d earned their hostility, but they were offering friendship. These people were weird.
“Friends,” he said, gruffly, to Sheppard, and knocked his shoulder against the man as he walked by. He found Teyla’s eyes. “See you around,” he said, and then he stepped through the Ring.
Sateda opened before him, ruins stretching out endlessly as always. And though he was once again the only living human on its surface, he walked towards his home feeling oddly less alone.
~
The End
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Sheppard’s people didn’t take it that way.
Ronon didn’t even see them. Sheppard’s behavior had utterly ruined his vigilance to outside threats. He only noticed anything because Sheppard suddenly looked past him, turned completely white, and dropped his drinking glass so hard it rolled off the table and shattered on the floor.
It was only two people. Teyla and the angry round man Ronon vaguely remembered from his short time in the city years ago. They were both armed, but there should have been a squadron of soldiers behind them.
“Sheppard!” The man cried. He wasn’t holding his weapon very attentively, its barrel was somewhere to the left of Ronon’s head.
Teyla’s aim was far more centered. Her gun was pointed directly at Ronon, even as her huge eyes were glued to Sheppard. Carefully, Ronon let his arm drop to his side, dangling close to his own gun. Sheppard got up from his seat, knocking his chair over. He darted towards Ronon, trying to put his body between him and the gun sights.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Sheppard chanted. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot.”
“Colonel?” Teyla questioned.
“Drop your weapons,” Sheppard said. He tried to spread his arms, but the belts were tight enough to stop the movement. Unfortunately, it also drew attention to the fact that he was bound. Suddenly both guns were held much more levelly at Ronon.
Neither one obeyed him.
“What?” asked Teyla’s companion. “How about no?”
Sheppard reached out and tried to fold his trapped arms around Ronon, even though Ronon was still seated.
“Are you hugging him?” the other man asked, incredulously.
“Ronon,” Teyla said, finally. “What is going on here?” There was no softness to her face, not like had been there every time before.
“Long story,” Ronon said, meeting their eyes over Sheppard’s trembling shoulder. His hands were blocked from view, so he took the opportunity to flick the knot in Sheppard’s bonds and set his arms free. This only resulted in Sheppard’s arms swinging out and folding around Ronon’s torso completely.
Teyla stared, her weapon still held level. Her companion was distracted again, his gun off to the side.
“What the fuck?” he said.
~
In their place, Ronon would have shot himself dead. Teyla was probably a skilled enough marksman to have done it without harming Sheppard. But she was too generous to kill him without question. Her companion was less trusting, but he didn’t open fire either. Ronon counted it as another time these people acted in his interest rather than theirs. He didn’t really understand it.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to explain the situation to them. Sheppard did it for him without saying a word.
“John?” said Teyla, cautiously leaning forward.
In response, Sheppard only tightened his grip on Ronon, tension radiating from his every pore. He had his forehead rested against Ronon’s shoulder and he was holding it there as hard as he could.
Ronon shoved his chair backwards, away from the table. He figured, correctly, that Sheppard would earnestly try to scramble up and straddle his lap. It was something he tried to do a lot, but Ronon usually wouldn’t let him. Sheppard was heavy and too big to fit and nine times out of ten he managed to land on one of Ronon’s balls.
But today, it illustrated his point and at the same time allowed Sheppard’s people to move closer and see for themselves. Ronon laid the flat of his palm against Sheppard’s cheek and shoved, trying to force the man’s face away. Sheppard went, probably because he really couldn’t directly resist. But once his head was up, his gaze fastened to Ronon’s face, deliberately ignoring the peering faces of his friends.
“What did you do to him, Conan?” snapped the man. But for all his anger, the gun was slipping flat against his body. Sheppard flinched hard at the words, fingernails digging into Ronon’s skin.
“His name is Ronon, Rodney.” Teyla corrected, and her companion rolled his eyes. She leaned closer, one hand moving off of her gun and reaching out to Sheppard. “John,” she said, softly. “Do you know who we are?”
Sheppard ignored her. He gave no outward sign he even heard her, though Ronon saw his face flicker when she spoke. He continued to avoid looking anywhere near the two.
“He showed up like this,” Ronon said, since Rodney looked about to make another accusation.
“When?” asked Teyla, her voice still soft.
“And when was that?” Rodney demanded, at the same time.
Ronon shrugged, or tried to with both Sheppard’s arms locked around him. It had probably been a few months.
“Colonel Sheppard left Atlantis four months ago,” Teyla said.
“Okay,” Ronon said.
“Four months!” Rodney exploded. “He’s been here four goddamn months and you just decided to keep him?”
Teyla was equally unhappy, but she was a lot quieter about it. “Why did you not contact us?” she asked.
“Brought him back once,” Ronon reminded her. He wasn’t sure if it warranted mentioning that Sheppard had smashed the only direct line of communication.
Teyla’s head tilted to the side as if unwilling to explain why that wasn’t a reasonable response. Ronon knew it wasn’t, but there wasn’t much else to say.
“Wait,” Rodney yelled. Ronon was beginning to realize that was just the volume the man spoke at. “You’re using the ‘Gee, mom, he followed me home’ excuse? Sorry, that’s doesn’t fly, Medusa.”
He was really winding up, getting louder and louder, using words that Ronon didn’t fully understand but gathered were insults. It was annoying and Ronon couldn’t do anything about it with Sheppard in his lap. Actually, he probably couldn’t do anything about it at all if he didn’t want Teyla to shoot him, and that was annoying, too.
“What, did you need four months for him to teach you table manners?” Rodney was saying.
It happened too quickly for Ronon to react. He hadn’t thought Sheppard had that much agility or speed in his condition - or hell, the inclination - so he didn’t expect it. Rodney, evidently, also didn’t expect Sheppard to turn around in Ronon’s lap and launch a punch directly at the man’s face.
It didn’t land solidly. Sheppard had a bad angle and his typical shitty aim. It caught Rodney half on the mouth, half in the neck. Despite its poor quality and the fact that it couldn’t have been that hard, Rodney stumbled backwards, gagging and gasping, and then losing his footing and dropping to the floor.
For a second, Teyla jerked in place as if she didn’t know where to turn. Then, maybe deciding Ronon wasn’t a threat, she dropped to her knees to follow Rodney.
Ronon didn’t see what happened next, because he had to turn his attention to Sheppard, who socked him in the jaw with an elbow. It wasn’t the same type of violence, wasn’t intentional. It was what he usually did when he wanted to end up being pinned down with full body contact from Ronon. Except he already had that, and was flailing his arms anyway. Ronon found his wrists and grabbed them hard enough to seriously hurt. He pulled Sheppard in towards his face.
“Knock it off,” he ordered.
Sheppard looked at him with dark, cloudy eyes. But he was stilling in place, even as emotion churned in his face.
Rodney was getting back to his feet, screeching something about Ronon telepathically controlling Sheppard. His lip was split and bleeding, his chin flushed red. It wasn’t clear if that was from the punch, though, since his whole face was flaming, too.
Teyla had hold of his arm, and his gun was hanging loose.
“I do not think that is the case, Rodney,” Teyla said.
Rodney did not stop screaming. Ronon tuned it out. It wasn’t important, unless he convinced Teyla to shoot him. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the tension still strumming through Sheppard.
“We need to speak to him,” Teyla said. “Alone.”
Behind her, Rodney was still yelling. She waved her hand sternly at him and the sound finally died. He grabbed his mouth, brow furrowed. “Broken jaw,” Ronon heard him mumble angrily.
“He’s not well,” Ronon said, still not releasing Sheppard’s hands. “He doesn’t like it when I leave.”
And that sentence made Sheppard spasm violently, trying to twist his body and wrap it further around Ronon even though his hands were still trapped.
“We are his friends,” Teyla said, sharply. “Release him, he will not hurt us.”
“Right,” Rodney said, somewhat quietly. “Sheppard would never do that, but this lobotomized cabbage would.”
Keeping hold of Sheppard’s wrists, Ronon shoved the rest of him off, forcing his feet to the floor. Then Ronon stood, took a step, and planted Sheppard back in the chair. “Don’t hit them,” he said.
Sheppard looked up at him, and tears were already swimming in his eyes.
Unsure of what would happen, Ronon let go of the man’s hands. Sheppard didn’t move. His arms sank down, slowly, hands coming to grip his own legs.
Ronon tilted his head towards the door, indicated he’d go stand in the hallway, unless he heard noises suggesting Sheppard was trying to beat the hell out of his friends.
“Thank you,” said Teyla. She sounded harried, but genuine.
“Get lost,” said Rodney, equally genuine.
~
It turned out, Ronon gave the wrong order. He should have commanded Sheppard to stay in the chair. Less than two seconds after Ronon left the room, there was a tremendous crash and Rodney started screaming again. By the time Ronon stepped back in the room, Sheppard was gone. Teyla was delicately picking herself up from the remaining splintered planks of the dining table, and Rodney was jabbering hysterically and gesturing towards the still swinging door on the other side of the room.
Without a word, Ronon took off after him. Sheppard wouldn’t get far. He was too clumsy and disoriented to move fast, and he probably couldn’t run away from Ronon even if he wanted to.
He was wrong.
Sheppard vanished somewhere in the depths of the mansion. Ronon never even caught a glimpse of him. There was some initial evidence of his path - the crash of broken vases and knocked over furniture, and Sheppard stubbed something that left a short blood trail - but then there was silence and stillness and nothing.
Rodney chased after him, followed shortly by Teyla - who was walking funny and making a really grim face.
“Where is he?” Rodney yelled. “Where’d he go?” He was waving his gun around, a weapon Ronon knew fired live ammunition that would puncture and kill rather than stun.
Vaguely curious if the feeling of aggression and annoyance that resurfaced would bring Sheppard from his hiding place to strike out again at Rodney, Ronon reached out and snatched the weapon out of the man’s hand.
“Huh?” Rodney said, suddenly wide eyed and empty-handed. “Hey! You! The - That - Teyla!”
Behind him, rubbing her hip with one hand and clutching her gun with the other, Teyla understood the score. “You do not want to shoot Colonel Sheppard,” she said.
“Oh,” Rodney said. Then, angrily: “I know that! Give it back, you mutant!”
Ronon looked down at him, waiting for something.
“I’m not gong to shoot you, either,” Rodney said, finally. And when Ronon handed the gun back, “Not til we have Sheppard back, anyways.”
Ronon smirked and Rodney took a frightened step backwards.
Teyla totally ignored the exchange.
“We need to find him,” she said, hand rubbing her hip.
Sheppard’s flight was maybe the best way the reunion with his people could have occurred. His friends’ suspicion of Ronon became secondary to locating Sheppard, and probably diminished the idea that Ronon was fully in control here. Rodney still clearly felt that the situation was entirely his fault, and maybe Teyla did, too, but she was a lot quieter about it.
More importantly, Sheppard’s vanishing act meant Rodney produced an armful of Ancestor technology with which to find him, and mostly stopped talking to Ronon. The pile of electronics somehow told him where Sheppard was hiding.
It was Ronon and Teyla who went to actually retrieve him. This prompted a howling protest from Rodney. Ronon had to stop listening, purposefully walking off and waiting just out of earshot in the hallway. He didn’t really need all that technology to find Sheppard. The man definitely wouldn’t leave the building. If Ronon didn’t go find him, he’d half bet Sheppard would come looking for him.
But if he was to return Sheppard to his people - and that was the plan and the thought that had been going through his head when Sheppard decided to bolt - it was probably time to act like their opinions mattered. Ronon was a little surprised at the emotion itching in his chest at the thought of giving Sheppard back. It was relief, he figured. The amount of attention and energy and interruption to Ronon’s life involved in having him around was too much. Ronon had never wanted the company of a human pet and he should be glad to get rid of him.
It didn’t take Teyla long to convince Rodney to stay where he was and direct their efforts to find Sheppard. Well, ‘direct’ was her word, but even if she was holding some kind of glowing Ancestor tablet, Ronon didn’t think it or Rodney’s help would really be needed. But it would give him some distance from the incredibly noisy man and opportunity to hear Teyla’s condemnation of him, if she wanted to give it.
“Has he been in this condition the whole time?” Teyla asked, as they walked down the hallway and descended the stairs. Rodney was talking to her in an earpiece, telling her Sheppard was somewhere in the basement. The question was mild but Ronon knew she would assess his response.
“Mostly,” he said. Then paused, because that wasn’t really true. “Gotten worse,” he admitted. “Never been this bad before.”
Teyla looked at him with hard eyes, but didn’t comment.
“We sent a team to Aracha to investigate,” she said. “Covertly,” she added.
“Yeah?”
“None of their slaves were in this condition,” she said. “They retained their mental faculties.”
Ronon waited for her to finish. Sheppard hadn’t been in his right mind from the moment they’d met in the Arachan marketplace.
“They also do not wear the - ” Teyla paused, searching for the word - “object,” she settled on, speaking it with total distaste. “In their necks.”
“How do they get it off?” Ronon asked. He didn’t take her words as an accusation. He figured ripping it out would kill Sheppard.
“Their masters remove it upon such time as their obedience is assured,” Teyla said, still making a face.
Teyla went silent, letting her words linger in the air. “You are his master,” she said, finally.
“Is that why you came here?” Ronon asked.
“In part,” Teyla said. “We began to suspect Sheppard would have been compelled to follow you. And we received intelligence from a trading partner describing Sheppard traveling with a stranger.”
“Oresta,” Ronon confirmed.
Teyla was looking at him again, clearly wanting an explanation why he had kept Sheppard’s presence secret. And Ronon found he really didn’t have one, so he said nothing.
Raising a hand to her ear, Teyla pointed to a vent cover in the wall. “Rodney says he is in there.”
“Why didn’t you bring backup?” Ronon asked, wrenching the grate off.
“I thought you would be friendly to me,” Teyla said, standing behind him. “And less welcoming of a larger force.”
“You’re right,” Ronon said. He could see Sheppard’s legs, curled up in the end of the vent where it turned into a vertical shaft. “I’m gonna go get him.”
Teyla peered curiously forward, but she didn’t move. “I will stay here.”
Pulling Sheppard from the vent wasn’t hard. The man had exhausted himself; his skin was clammy and the pajamas soaked in sweat. He didn’t fight Ronon, couldn’t even summon the strength to do anything but wrap his arms around Ronon’s shoulders when he crawled close enough. The tight quarters of the vent made getting back out slow and cumbersome, but Sheppard held on to him and made no effort to stop their progress.
Ronon shoved Sheppard out first, heard some kind of strange muffled rumble before he emerged after him.
Teyla was no longer alone. She was surrounded by a dozen of Sheppard’s people, all dressed in that black uniform and all armed. And all aiming weapons at Ronon.
Mildly, he looked at Teyla. She was being held back by one of the soldiers. The man wasn’t gripping her arm hard enough to keep her in place if she truly wanted to get away and she wasn’t trying to.
“Colonel Carter disagreed,” Teyla said, without pretense. “A retrieval team was sent to follow us.”
Ronon nodded. Sheppard took that moment to figure out what had happened and freak. He struck out in all directions, and Ronon went to grab him as he had a thousand times before. This time, one of the soldiers produced a Wraith stunner and sent them both into oblivion.
~
Ronon woke up in a holding cell in the City of the Ancestors. His gun was gone, but they’d missed about two dozen of his knives. Nothing else to do, he sat on the floor and waited for someone to notice he was awake. At the very least, he’d probably be fed before anything else happened.
They didn’t feed him first. Soldiers took him to see the blonde woman in charge, who wasn’t nearly as restrained with her anger as Teyla had been. Ronon didn’t feel the need to explain himself to her, but he understood her feelings. It was her job to protect these people, this city. In a few harsh words, she managed to convey that his future depended on if Sheppard’s mind could be restored.
He was taken to the infirmary next. Sheppard was tied to a gurney by his arms, legs, and neck. He was awake, unable to move, and he looked terrified. The lady doctor Ronon had spoken to last time was pacing by his bedside.
“He’s pumped full of sedatives,” he heard her say. “I wanted him to calm down but stay conscious so we’d know the immediate affect of that thing coming off. It didn’t really work.”
Ronon sat down by the gurney, ignoring the presence of his guards. The doctor cautiously moved closer to him. Teyla was standing on the other side of the gurney besides the city leader, her dark eyes on him. He didn’t see him, but Ronon could hear the unmistakable noise he now associated with Rodney coming from somewhere else in the infirmary.
“Alright,” said the doctor. “You should just be able to pull it off. That’s how it works.” She nodded with a confidence he didn’t think she felt. “But do it slowly.”
First, Ronon undid the neck restraint pinning Sheppard’s head down. He put one hand heavily on the man’s gowned shoulder, feeling the shuddering response that hopefully meant he was providing some comfort. With the other, Ronon gently turned Sheppard’s head away. The ugly twisted metal came into view as Sheppard’s cheek dropped to the pillow. It was possible, he knew, that this would kill the man. But Sheppard had twice requested death rather than live like this, and that thought filled Ronon’s mind as he took hold of the device and steadily began to pull.
The thing came out immediately, without a sound. It seemed to shrink in Ronon’s hand, its spines retracting from Sheppard’s skin and vanishing into itself. It took maybe two seconds until it was completely out.
There was only silence for a moment. Then, Sheppard turned his head toward Ronon. He gasped twice then his eyes fluttered up and closed.
~
Sheppard slept for three days. Ronon spent that time confined in the holding cell again. Now, he spent most of that time analyzing the cell for security weaknesses and formulating various attack plans to overpower the guards. He would have to leave the city, regardless of if Sheppard woke up intact, or never woke up at all.
Teyla visited each day, usually to bring a meal and inform him that Sheppard’s condition had not changed.
“You gonna kill me if he dies?” Ronon asked on the third day, blunt because he was ready to be done with this.
“No,” Teyla said immediately.
He believed her, but she wouldn’t say what fate her Colonel Carter intended if Sheppard was lost to them. If not death, maybe life imprisonment. Ronon didn’t intend to remain long enough to serve anything more than another few days.
On the morning of the fourth day, Sheppard woke up. Teyla came briefly to tell Ronon, but she didn’t disclose if he was in his right mind or not. She didn’t come back that evening. The outcome, Ronon assumed, wasn’t good. The soldiers who brought him his meals said nothing, either. They were probably too well trained to try to get their own vengeance, anyway, or maybe they hadn’t liked Sheppard. He decided to delay his departure by one more night, if only so he would know if Sheppard still lived.
The fifth day, Ronon got a new visitor. He was in the process of aiming his sharpest knife at the wires of the security camera watching him, and when the door opened he had to covertly drop the blade down his sleeve without stabbing himself. Without looking backwards, he knew the footsteps were too heavy to be Teyla and the soldiers who brought him meals always said things like “Don’t move!” after they entered.
Ronon turned around, arm falling to his side and the blade dropping down his forearm back into its concealed sheath within his clothes.
Sheppard was standing in the doorway.
He looked so different Ronon almost identified him as just another soldier in a black uniform. But it was Sheppard, standing there stiffly with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked, probably, like he was supposed to. But it had been years since Ronon had seen him healthy, so it was just strange. His posture was strong, his face forcefully blank of expression. And he was staring at Ronon like it was him that was different.
“Hey,” Ronon said.
Sheppard let out a little breath. “Hey,” he said. Then, “Want to take a walk?”
The guards outside Ronon’s door didn’t follow them as they exited. Ronon took it to mean that Sheppard was well.
They walked in silence to an outer pier, mostly because Sheppard said nothing and Ronon was waiting for him to speak.
“You’re okay?” Ronon said, finally, because Sheppard didn’t speak first.
“Yeah,” Sheppard said, slowly. “I woke up, realized that thing was outta me, feel like a brand new man.”
“You remember?” Ronon asked. He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear. Sometimes Sheppard had very obviously been aware, other times not at all. And if Sheppard remembered nothing, it wouldn’t absolve Ronon anyway.
“In living color,” Sheppard said, without hesitation.
“Oh,” Ronon said.
“Yeah,” Sheppard said. He stopped walking, then, turning to lean again the rail overlooking the water.
Ronon halted, too, stepping to stand beside him. He noted the space between their bodies, how Sheppard didn’t immediately try to sidle up to Ronon.
“I should have returned you to your people,” he said, eyes on the blue, frothing water below. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh,” Sheppard said. “Didn’t really expect you to say that.”
Ronon shrugged. Sheppard was looking down at the water, too, in no great hurry to make eye contact, either.
“It’s true.”
“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. But he didn’t sound upset, just kind of calm. “Though, Colonel Carter told me they didn’t figure out the secret to -” he waved a hand up by his neck “ - until last week. All that would have been different is that you probably would have spent the last few months in that holding cell.”
Now, Ronon looked at him.
“Okay,” Sheppard amended. “You would have spent until you managed to escape the holding cell.”
Ronon nodded.
“And I would have had some really unfun time in the infirmary with a lot more people watching me act like an insane clingy vegetable.” He cleared his throat, the idea clearly distasteful. “So, even if you didn’t do it on purpose, I’m grateful you spared me that.”
“Okay,” Ronon said. It sounded like he was being forgiven. He didn’t know why, but he would take it.
“Let’s never speak of it again,” Sheppard said, totally serious. “As far as I’m concerned, it never happened."
Ronon looked at him. “Okay.”
“Good. Anyways,” Sheppard said. “I convinced Colonel Carter that you didn’t do anything that we should keep you for - not that we could even if you had - and that I was just crazy not compromised into telling you the most effective way to invade Atlantis, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention to her that I did.”
“No problem,” Ronon said.
“Good,” Sheppard said. He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, silently watching the waves crash below. “I’m kind of surprised you stuck around,” he said, then.
“Was gonna leave today,” Ronon said, honestly. “Wanted to hear if you survived.”
Sheppard gave a tiny, amused smile. “Gonna miss me?”
And that was an unfair and dumb question, so Ronon didn’t answer it.
“Sorry,” Sheppard said, then. “But I’m serious. Outside of that sick thing in my head, you’d make a powerful ally for this city.”
“I’m one guy,” Ronon reminded him, as if Sheppard hadn’t lived on Ronon’s empty planet for the past few months.
“One guy single handedly waging war against the Wraith across Pegasus,” Sheppard said. “I was there, remember?” Ronon didn’t reply, wondering what Sheppard was trying to get at. “You could benefit from some friends, too. I’m not offering you to join this city,” Sheppard continued, “because you said no last time and because I told Colonel Carter I wanted you gone so I wouldn’t have to think about the last few months. Not entirely untrue. I’m not in a hurry to give her the idea that I still want to snuggle with you.”
He stepped away from the railing, body turning back towards the city. Ronon followed and together they walked a path Ronon realized would probably bring them to the city’s Ring.
“So maybe not tomorrow,” Sheppard said, as they walked. “But with Atlantis’ technology and your Wraith intel, we could help each other out.”
That wasn’t a terrible idea. These people hadn’t yet been culled, they must have been doing something right.
“Your people gonna be okay with that?” Ronon asked, remembering the last time Sheppard had wanted him to stay in the city.
“Eventually,” Sheppard said, sounding confident. “Carter’s military so she knows good strategy and she’ll like what you’ve done with a one man army. Rodney’s afraid of you, but he’ll get over it. And I promise he’s not always that annoying."
“You’re the one that hit him,” Ronon said.
“Because you wanted to,” Sheppard said, easily. “Anyway, Teyla’s always liked you. And we don’t clear all our offworld allies with the IOA, they don’t even have to know.”
“Sure this isn’t cause of that thing?” Ronon asked, as they enter the room where the Ring stood. “It still making you do stuff?”
Colonel Carter, Teyla, and Rodney were standing at the base of the Ring, clearly waiting for them. From the expression on the blonde’s face, she probably shared that suspicion. Rodney definitely had a similar opinion.
“That thing worked both ways,” Sheppard said. “I know why you wouldn’t get rid of me.”
The Ring was dialing, the chevrons each lighting up in turn with Sateda’s address.
“Let’s be friends,” Sheppard said, shoving into Ronon’s hands another radio/dialing device like the one he’d smashed all those months ago. “Less happy naked fun time in the bathtub, more Wraith-killing this time around.”
“Okay.” Ronon said. He paused. “Give me back my gun.”
“Rodney,” Sheppard said.
Slowly, his face twisted in a pout, Rodney stepped forward and produced Ronon’s gun from behind his back. “Oh, right, this old thing.” But he was even slower to hand it over, until Ronon snatched it from his hand. “Since Sheppard’s making us be friends,” Rodney said, mildly, “can I take that apart and see how it works?”
“No,” Ronon said, and holstered it.
“Friends share,” Rodney said, and Ronon totally didn’t believe Sheppard that the man wasn’t always this annoying.
“In time,” Teyla said, stepping forward as well. “Safe journey, Ronon. I hope we will see you frequently on better terms.”
“Try not to kidnap anyone else,” muttered Rodney.
“We’ll contact you in a few months when the dust has settled,” Carter said.
“When she believes I don’t secretly want to obey you anymore,” Sheppard translated, with an amount of false cheer.
“Yeah,” Carter said, casually. “I’m not convinced of that yet, but as a show of good faith, we’ve sent you some supplies through to Sateda.”
“Food,” said Sheppard.
“Kinda like a ransom,” Rodney said, and Teyla might have pinched him in the side, because he squeaked and flinched in place.
The Ring lit up, the wormhole exploding down the ramp. Ronon looked toward it, took a step. He was unsure what to say. Instead of punishment, they were giving him freedom. He’d earned their hostility, but they were offering friendship. These people were weird.
“Friends,” he said, gruffly, to Sheppard, and knocked his shoulder against the man as he walked by. He found Teyla’s eyes. “See you around,” he said, and then he stepped through the Ring.
Sateda opened before him, ruins stretching out endlessly as always. And though he was once again the only living human on its surface, he walked towards his home feeling oddly less alone.
~
The End
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