Thankful, Sheppard & Ronon, 'Outcast'
Title: Thankful
Summary: He’s glad it’s Ronon there and not Rodney.
Characters: John Sheppard & Ronon Dex
Pairing: None
Rating: T
Episode: Outcast
He’s in their temporary quarters on the Midway station when he hears the doors slide open behind him. He doesn’t turn but he acknowledges the other man’s presence with a quick head nod before stuffing a few more items into his bag.
“You all right?”
He nods again without turning, not entirely sure he can fathom the words - either those of the lie on the tip of his tongue, or the ones of truth at the forefront of his mind - he needs to be able to say. Instead, he continues to look into the backpack he’d brought and the few items of clothing he and Ronon had picked up on Earth, wondering if it was even worth taking them back home.
“Just tell Dr Lee when you’re ready to go back to Atlantis.”
He glances to Ronon over his shoulder and notices the slouch the younger man has assumed against the wall just inside the door; John knows the stance - has experienced the stare and he knows that he’s not going to be able to put up much of a fight this time. Instead he sighs and licks his lips as he looks around their meagre quarters; suddenly, he’s very thankful for his room back on Atlantis - the plain grey emptiness colouring his mood with its placid tones and he hates the smallness of it, the fact that there’s no windows and no sea beyond, just endless darkness.
“I think I might stick around for a while,” Ronon says gruffly and when John turns back to him, the Satedan has his arms crossed high over his chest in a pose John is all too familiar with.
“They won’t let you off the ship.” Ronon shrugs but John can see the fleeting moment of indecision in his eyes. They stare at one another for a long moment, each daring the other to back down, then Ronon quirks an eyebrow, a half-smirk and John knows there’s no point in arguing; he even kind of appreciates the sentiment. “I’ll ask if they can drop you off at a bar.”
Ronon smirks and lifts an eyebrow, his eyes glittering slightly at the thought even though he knows it’s more than a remote possibility. But John has to return the sentiment somehow.
“It’ll be dry before you even think about comin’ back,” he notes with a hint of pride and while Sheppard rolls his eyes mirthfully, he knows it’s probably true.
John hears the unasked question and he’s glad that it’s Ronon there and not Rodney. When he makes his way past Ronon, pausing briefly to clap Ronon’s arm he clears his thickened throat and takes a breath, faltering more than he meant to. Ronon doesn’t reach out to catch him, doesn’t ask the question but John turns to him anyway and shakes his head, keeping their eyes unmet.
“My dad’s dead.”
Ronon nods and John can feel a pressure on his shoulder, which he appreciates but ignores. He lifts a hand to his face, bypassing his stinging eyes for his hairline and scrubs a hand through the long strands there as he fights off that feeling he’d fought at the wake, too.
“I know,” Ronon says quietly, the pressure deepening for a moment before the hand is gone. John takes a moment and Ronon gives it to him, unquestioning - understanding. Finally, he nods and takes a calming breath, finally meeting the Satedan’s eye with a wry half grin of thanks. Ronon nods, almost uncomfortable and Sheppard bypasses him for the door. Again he pauses and half turns back, nodding when he knows Ronon is looking back at him. But Ronon shakes his head and looks away. “It’s fine.”
Sheppard nods and leaves; as much as he wants to go home (because what a week it’s been), he still has a few things he needs to do.