Fic: Light Sleeper
Title: Light Sleeper
Author:
angelqueen04
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ronon/Elizabeth
Spoilers: post-Sateda.
Summary: When Ronon started to moan and thrash about the night he had been brought home from Sateda, Elizabeth didn't sleep right through it.
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at this pairing, which has swiftly become one of my secret kinks. Hopefully I didn't muck it up too badly.
Elizabeth Weir had been a light sleeper all her life. Ever since she was a child, it had been nearly impossible not to wake her up with the slightest sound. It was the reason why neither of her brothers had ever been able to sneak up on her on Christmas mornings.
When she had come to Atlantis, her light sleeping hadn't been altered all that much. She learned to go to sleep with the constant sound of the ocean waves hitting up against the city's piers, and was even able to react almost instantly if her ear piece went off during the night.
So, when Ronon started to moan and thrash about the night he had been brought home from Sateda, Elizabeth didn't sleep right through it.
She sat up beside him, staring at him in concern but was very careful not to touch him. The last time he'd had such nightmares, right after the first disaster with Michael, she had attempted to shake him out of sleep. The result had not been pleasant and she'd found herself trapped beneath his body with his hand wrapped around her throat. It had only lasted a few seconds and Ronon had regained his bearings and pushed himself off of her, but it was nearly a month before he could bring himself to touch her without flinching.
He continued twist and turn, calling out words (names?) such as Kell, Melaina, and many others. Knowing better than to try and soothe him with touch, Elizabeth opted for using her voice. "Ronon," she called softly, "Ronon, wake up. Wake up, you're safe. Ronon, you're in Atlantis. You're safe now. Wake up."
Ronon seemed to subside slightly at the sound of her voice, though his brow remained furrowed in distress. She sighed quietly and continued to say his name in a level, quiet tone, hoping to wake him up.
She wasn't really all that surprised that this was happening. Kate Heightmeyer had visited her even before the Daedalus had returned, wanting her to order Ronon to meet with her. In the entire year that he had been with them, he had steadily refused to talk with her about what he had seen and endured as a Runner, nor would he say much about his home world.
A year ago, she probably would have agreed with Kate and told Ronon to do as the psychologist wanted. A year ago, she would not have thought otherwise about it being the right thing for him. But that was a year ago and this was now. Now, she knew that attempting to force him to talk - or do anything else for that matter - only served to drive him off. So, she only told Kate that she'd ask him. There wasn't really anything else she could do.
Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted as Ronon's dark eyes shot open at last. They darted quickly about the room, taking in his location, before finally landing on her. Slowly, she reached out and stroked his face. "You were dreaming," she murmured.
He took a deep breath and sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, his back to her. He leaned forward, his head bowed with his hands resting tensely on the bed.
Elizabeth reached out again and touched his naked back, gently tracing the newest scar that had been added to his collection by the Wraith. She then scooted forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she loosely laid her arms around his shoulders.
"Do you want to talk about it?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked him that question and to be honest, she was beginning to doubt he'd ever take her up on it. Words were not Ronon's way. But still, she always made the offer, if only for her own sake. Whether or not he chose to accept it or not was up to him.
A rough, calloused hand came up to grasp her own. Elizabeth squeezed back in return, and then moved back to rest against the pillows, not letting go of him. He followed her, falling back to where his head rested on her stomach. Her free hand automatically came up to smooth over his hair.
They stayed that way for the rest of the night, no further words spoken. When the first rays of light began to spill over the ocean and towards Atlantis, Ronon sat up and looked at her. She gazed up at him sleepily in return.
He still said nothing, but his eyes were the most unguarded she'd ever seen them. And in them, she saw everything. The agony of the losses he'd endured, the guilt over the pain he had brought upon others because of a device implanted in his back, and hope. Hope... for what? That was what she still could not yet discern. Hope that he could see his demons redressed upon the Wraith? Perhaps.
She reached up and touched his cheek lightly, then moved her hand to his neck, pulling him down to allow their lips to meet. The kiss was slow and languid, with an undercurrent of rising desire. Ronon shifted so that he was above her, his weight resting on his arms, which were placed on either side of his head.
As their passions ignited, Elizabeth thought fleetingly of Sateda and all those names he had called out during the night. She had no faces to put to those names, but that did not diminish their importance. They lived now only in his memory, but they would not fade. They were a part of him.
As surely as he was swiftly becoming a part of her.
Author:
angelqueen04
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ronon/Elizabeth
Spoilers: post-Sateda.
Summary: When Ronon started to moan and thrash about the night he had been brought home from Sateda, Elizabeth didn't sleep right through it.
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at this pairing, which has swiftly become one of my secret kinks. Hopefully I didn't muck it up too badly.
Elizabeth Weir had been a light sleeper all her life. Ever since she was a child, it had been nearly impossible not to wake her up with the slightest sound. It was the reason why neither of her brothers had ever been able to sneak up on her on Christmas mornings.
When she had come to Atlantis, her light sleeping hadn't been altered all that much. She learned to go to sleep with the constant sound of the ocean waves hitting up against the city's piers, and was even able to react almost instantly if her ear piece went off during the night.
So, when Ronon started to moan and thrash about the night he had been brought home from Sateda, Elizabeth didn't sleep right through it.
She sat up beside him, staring at him in concern but was very careful not to touch him. The last time he'd had such nightmares, right after the first disaster with Michael, she had attempted to shake him out of sleep. The result had not been pleasant and she'd found herself trapped beneath his body with his hand wrapped around her throat. It had only lasted a few seconds and Ronon had regained his bearings and pushed himself off of her, but it was nearly a month before he could bring himself to touch her without flinching.
He continued twist and turn, calling out words (names?) such as Kell, Melaina, and many others. Knowing better than to try and soothe him with touch, Elizabeth opted for using her voice. "Ronon," she called softly, "Ronon, wake up. Wake up, you're safe. Ronon, you're in Atlantis. You're safe now. Wake up."
Ronon seemed to subside slightly at the sound of her voice, though his brow remained furrowed in distress. She sighed quietly and continued to say his name in a level, quiet tone, hoping to wake him up.
She wasn't really all that surprised that this was happening. Kate Heightmeyer had visited her even before the Daedalus had returned, wanting her to order Ronon to meet with her. In the entire year that he had been with them, he had steadily refused to talk with her about what he had seen and endured as a Runner, nor would he say much about his home world.
A year ago, she probably would have agreed with Kate and told Ronon to do as the psychologist wanted. A year ago, she would not have thought otherwise about it being the right thing for him. But that was a year ago and this was now. Now, she knew that attempting to force him to talk - or do anything else for that matter - only served to drive him off. So, she only told Kate that she'd ask him. There wasn't really anything else she could do.
Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted as Ronon's dark eyes shot open at last. They darted quickly about the room, taking in his location, before finally landing on her. Slowly, she reached out and stroked his face. "You were dreaming," she murmured.
He took a deep breath and sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, his back to her. He leaned forward, his head bowed with his hands resting tensely on the bed.
Elizabeth reached out again and touched his naked back, gently tracing the newest scar that had been added to his collection by the Wraith. She then scooted forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she loosely laid her arms around his shoulders.
"Do you want to talk about it?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked him that question and to be honest, she was beginning to doubt he'd ever take her up on it. Words were not Ronon's way. But still, she always made the offer, if only for her own sake. Whether or not he chose to accept it or not was up to him.
A rough, calloused hand came up to grasp her own. Elizabeth squeezed back in return, and then moved back to rest against the pillows, not letting go of him. He followed her, falling back to where his head rested on her stomach. Her free hand automatically came up to smooth over his hair.
They stayed that way for the rest of the night, no further words spoken. When the first rays of light began to spill over the ocean and towards Atlantis, Ronon sat up and looked at her. She gazed up at him sleepily in return.
He still said nothing, but his eyes were the most unguarded she'd ever seen them. And in them, she saw everything. The agony of the losses he'd endured, the guilt over the pain he had brought upon others because of a device implanted in his back, and hope. Hope... for what? That was what she still could not yet discern. Hope that he could see his demons redressed upon the Wraith? Perhaps.
She reached up and touched his cheek lightly, then moved her hand to his neck, pulling him down to allow their lips to meet. The kiss was slow and languid, with an undercurrent of rising desire. Ronon shifted so that he was above her, his weight resting on his arms, which were placed on either side of his head.
As their passions ignited, Elizabeth thought fleetingly of Sateda and all those names he had called out during the night. She had no faces to put to those names, but that did not diminish their importance. They lived now only in his memory, but they would not fade. They were a part of him.
As surely as he was swiftly becoming a part of her.