Flash of the Blade: Final Chapter
Title: Flash of the Blade
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Chapter 10
"Roth is heading back to earth, under the attorney's advisement," Carter said, trying to hide her frustration. "He will remain in holding at the SGC until we get this sorted. However, we do have the evidence that he is the one that shot at you."
"What about attacking Ronon?"
"At this point, we have no actual proof, but the JAG suspects it's related. He'll want your statements, of course. I'd like you both to talk to him at your earliest convenience, but in the case," Carter cast an apologetic look in Ronon's direction. "We don't know if it's going to be enough."
Ronon got to his feet and stalked out onto the balcony, and Sheppard watched Carter watching him leave, the frustration plain on her face. .
"How's he doing?" Carter asked, grimly, once the door slid shut behind him.
"I don't even know how I'm doing, so," John smirked.
"Right. Well. I think, for the time being, that the situation is in hand, and, more importantly, that the threat is gone. You might want to tell him that."
---
Ronon stopped pacing when he heard the door open behind him, but he didn't turn to face John. "So that's it?"
"For the time being, it looks that way. The justice system at work."
"Great." Ronon didn't bother to hide his irritation. Don't know why you're satisfied with this. "We're just going to sit here and wait for someone else to figure out why he turned on us?" Ronon shook his head. We're going to trust someone else with this, instead?
"Look. I've been thinking about that. About all of this. We need to retrace our steps back to when this all started."
"The infirmary?" Ronon scowled. "They couldn't find anything."
"New Sanacra is when it all started going to hell. You still haven't told me what happened, by the way."
Ronon leaned against the railing, watching the water hitting the side of the pier below. "There's nothing to tell," he sighed, and continued, anyway. "I ran into you, I walked around for a while. Started getting tired, so I was heading in. Heard noise, found Sahlen bleeding. He shoved a knife into my hand like he thought I'd need it, and pointed me towards the gate, telling me that the Councilor was dead and that you'd retreated." And then I was alone. How the hell is that going to help anything?
"But we hadn't, and you wound up on Sanacra," John finished with a grin. "Seems pretty deliberate."
"Yeah. It's great news," Ronon rolled his eyes. "How does that explain anything?"
"Won't know until I get there," John decided, his hand already reaching up to his radio.
"I'm coming with you."
John dropped his hand. "Ronon, if they think you-"
"I don't give a damn. You're not going without me."
"Fine," John sighed, resigned. "As long as Keller allows it."
---
Keller, of course, decided in Ronon's favor, just as John had dreaded. The mission was set for the next morning.
---
It hadn't occurred to him that they probably didn't need to sleep in the same room anymore. But it hadn't occurred to anyone else to inform them, either. If Ronon was awake or asleep, John couldn't tell, and he couldn't think of a reason to ask. Couldn't think of a reason to give this up. Whatever this was, he'd let himself get away with it.
Scratch that. He could- he'd had the list memorized for years now. But he wouldn't.
I thought you wanted to leave us. Then, I thought you had. Then you came back, and I thought we were going to lose you. But you're here, now, I haven't stopped thinking yet, and I'm pretty damned sure I know why.
It was well past midnight, and though John's eyes were closed, he wasn't sleeping. Just listening to Ronon, in the next bed.
---
"If you wish to hold onto your life, you must first hold onto your weapons," Ronon's father chided, disarming him again and pinning him loosely to the ground. "Try again."
Ronon glared at the training knife, stuck mutely into the grass a few hand-spans away. Taking a breath, he reached out for it, wondering how many more times he'd have his face ground into the dirt before he figured it out. He pushed himself up and back, already turning to attempt another attack.
Ronon lay on his cot, trying to resist the urge to roll over to see the clock on the bedside table, to see if John was asleep. In case he wasn't.
If he'd been feeling less selfish, earlier, he would have continued on down the hallway and returned to his own room, instead of following John into his. Instead of shrugging more carelessly than honestly when John turned off his computer, asking if he was ready to crash.
Because he had been, at the time. Just not enough, apparently. He should have been able to sleep. It was quiet and it was warm. Three knives, his gun, and his closest ally were all safely within arm's reach.
But, given the choice, he would have reached for John first, and if he could admit that much to himself, he could probably admit to a hell of a lot more.
---
It was market day when they stepped through New Sanacra's gate and into the square, judging by the sheer number of people staring back at them when they arrived.
"Hi folks," Sheppard called out, waving his uninjured arm as two jumpers came through behind them and rose to cover their position. "We need to talk to Healer Sahlen. You might want to get one of the Councilors out here as well."
Voices began to stumble over each other as the noise grew to a din, but after a few moments, the crowd parted to let a woman in Councilor's robes stalk through. She trailed four armed guards in her wake, and Sheppard could see several more taking positions around the edge of the crowd.
He glanced over to make sure McKay hadn't started waving his P90 around yet, and found him watching Ronon, who was watching the guards with his hand near his hip. Teyla also seemed to be taking her cues from him, but she cast her eyes out over the mass of people.
Turning back to the crowd, he saw Sahlen being ushered forth by two more guards. He had the look of a man who knew his fate and just wanted it over with, but it was too soon to tell if it was something Sheppard could use.
Sahlen stopped short, though, when he saw Ronon standing with Sheppard's team.
The Councilor stopped before them, a well-used frown on her face, and stared briefly at Sheppard's sling for a moment before speaking. "I am Lysta. We have not met, but I do know who you are. What is the meaning of this?"
Teyla raised her palms, her voice calm. "That is what we are attempting to discover. New information has come to our attention that we believe you should hear. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss the matter in private?"
Lysta shook her head, indicating the crowd with a wave of her hand. "Whatever you have to say, you can say to all of us."
"So be it," Teyla bowed her head, looking sideways at Sheppard, ceding the spotlight.
"All right, look. Councilor Sidum was murdered, right?"
"That is correct. Have you returned to face the charges?"
"We were accused falsely, and I believe that Sahlen, here, knows why."
"What cause have you to make such an accusation?" The Councilor said, her eyes darting sharply in Sahlen's direction.
"He told me my people had retreated and sent me after them, but I wound up on Old Sanacra instead," Ronon growled, his glare never leaving Sahlen's terrified face.
The crowd's reaction was immediate and loud.
"That only proves that he aided your escape," the Councilor almost hissed, waving her arm sharply to silence the crowd. "We will hear more of this matter, but it hardly clears your innocence."
"It's enough for me," Sheppard said, refusing to buckle under her glare. "So, in the interest of any continued diplomatic relations between our people, I would like to hear his reasoning about it right now, if you don't mind."
"It's all right," Sahlen sighed, stepping forward, palms raised in surrender. "It is, truth be told, a relief."
"Then you do know who was responsible?"
"I do, Councilor Lysta. And while he is of their people, he is not among them now," he said, glancing warily up at the jumpers. "Not that I can see."
"Why did you say nothing?"
"Cowardice, Councilor. Cowardice. I was terrified of admitting my part in such a gruesome act."
"Did Councilor Sidum die at your hands?"
"No, Councilor. He did not. I believe that their man, Roth, was his murderer."
"Why do you say that?" McKay had the sense to look abashed at his interruption.
"He promised that he would have Sidum removed from power, in exchange for Ronon Dex's life. I did not, however, fully understand what he meant at the time. "
"Tell us what happened," Lysta crossed her arms, her chin jutting out at a furious angle, and Sheppard wondered if the only thing preventing her from ordering an immediate execution was the presence of guests. "Leave nothing out."
"On the day of Councilor Sidum's death," Sahlen began, addressing John, "not long before you arrived, Roth approached me with the offer. Caught up in the moment, I agreed, but as the sun set on the day, I realized I could not stomach the idea."
"It is good to hear that you were reluctant to turn on your own people," Lysta spoke primly, the sarcasm in her voice plain.
Sahlen snorted. "It would be, if Sidum was truly of our people, but he betrayed us all, long ago."
"Your opinions of the action have long since been a matter of public record, Healer. For now, I would like to hear that which I do not already know."
"Of course, Councilor," Sahlen stared down at the ground as he put his thoughts in order. "I went to Councilor Sidum's house, prepared to warn him of the offer made to me, and I found him. He had been stabbed. I tried to revive him, yet I could not. His body was already without life." Sahlen held a hand to his forehead, trying to block out the stares of the crowd. "I panicked, Councilor, when I realized the full meaning of Roth's word, and I ran. I never meant-" Sahlen sighed, his throat working to swallow.
Finding composure enough to continue, he raised his head to face the Councilor once again. "Through the window, I saw Ronon Dex walking nearby, and in that instant, knew the choice was out of my hands. Roth's plan had already been set into action. I hurried to the ring and opened the portal, and then raised the alarm."
Sheppard took an abortive step forward. "Why did you help him escape?"
"I could not kill him, but nor could I allow him to be found, as I was, at the time, sure that it would prove my involvement. I opened the ring to our old world and sent him through, knowing that he would be lost, but alive."
"You know that is a death sentence."
"According only to Councilor Sidum. You know that we have no proof of his claims, and Ronon Dex's presence here today only proves the contrary."
"I do not understand," Teyla said, glancing apologetically towards the Councilor, waiting for her permission before continuing. "Why would you agree to such an arrangement?"
"He wanted revenge," Ronon said, the understanding in his voice less surprising than Sheppard would have expected.
Sheppard tore his eyes away with a shake of the head, over the staring crowd and back to Lysta. "Well, you'll be happy to know that the disease is gone, and that their population is growing."
The Councilor's eyes were untrusting, speculative. "You can provide evidence of this?"
"Not as of yet," Sheppard admitted.
McKay cut in with a smug tone. "Not until we fix their gate."
The change in the Councilor's demeanor was instant as hope replaced anger. "You would be willing to undertake such a thing?"
"That depends," Sheppard stepped forward before McKay could answer. "I'm willing to forgive being arrested and nearly executed without a trial. We'll just call it a diplomatic hiccup. However." He turned to Sahlen. "I am still concerned with the fact that you sent Ronon here to a planet that might kill him."
Sahlen snorted in frustration and repeated himself. "I did not think it would do him any harm."
"Good enough for me," Ronon said, cutting McKay and Sheppard off before they could complain. Teyla bowed to hide her smile at McKay's irate expression.
Sheppard snorted. "Fine. But we want to know everything that Lieutenant Roth told you. Right now."
"As you must be aware, Roth and his teammates were regular visitors to our world. Of the four, Roth was the most approachable."
"What do you mean?"
"The one, Doctor Parrish, was very excitable and hard to understand at times. Your Major Lorne was very polite, but also quite distant. The other one, Amundson. I'm sorry to say, but he remained quite, ah..."
"Rude?"
"Yes. Roth was the one who became most known to us, and we became friends as a result. I told him of my frustrations, and he told me of his."
"Which were?"
"I am sure you would not like them repeated in such a public arena," Sahlen said, looking nervously between Sheppard's face and the jumpers hovering overhead.
"Let's not worry about that right now." Sheppard shook his head. Pretty sure my reputation isn't the one you ought to be worrying about right now, Bucko.
"We promise no offense will be taken," Teyla explained, urgently. "But it is information of vital importance."
"He said that the way things were run on your world were horrible. That someone who took suicidal risks was responsible for the lives of others, and that your leaders trusted untrustworthy people. He very much desired the opportunity to repair the situation, but his placement in your ranks forbade it."
Sahlen paused, again rubbing at his neck. "Roth made it clear that there were two individuals that, once removed, would create space for worthier persons to step in." Sahlen glanced pointedly in Ronon and Teyla's direction, but did not meet their eyes.
McKay sighed. "So how do you go from that to murder?"
"You would have to ask him, as I could not find it in myself to go that far."
---
Ronon squinted against the bright light of the hallway when he found John on the other side of his door. He felt himself smirking, suddenly very relieved to see John standing there. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
"I'm. Ah." John rubbed a hand through his hair. "Guess I just got too used to being on overdrive. My brain hasn't figured out how to stop."
Ronon nodded tiredly. "I know the feeling." There's too much space in here. You're supposed to take up some of it.
"Thought you might. I figure there's only one answer for it." John hefted the six-pack he was carrying. "Beer on the pier?"
Ronon ducked back and grabbed a heavier shirt. "Good idea."
---
Two beers later, and Ronon was wishing that John would just speak, already, but he couldn't find anything to say, either. Nothing that would take John's mind off Roth, Sahlen or any of the answers they'd found. Nothing that would get them past this.
No use avoiding it. He sighed, crushing the beer can and setting it aside. "He was wrong, you know. Roth."
John turned slightly to look at him with eyes that would have been tired, were they not so tense. "What about him?"
"He said you weren't a good leader," Ronon busied himself opening another beer, annoyed at how stiffly the words had come out.
John's shrug was too weak to be agreement. "Who knows. I didn't see this coming."
"No one did. I didn't," Ronon sipped his beer, training his eyes on a far point on the water. "And hell, you heard Lorne when he got out of the jumper. He was freaked. Worked with the guy every day, and never suspected anything, either."
"Right. It's just. What if someone else decides to pick up where he let off? I don't know where to go from here."
Ronon said nothing for a while. "When I was on Sateda, my taskmaster. The leader of my branch betrayed us. Far worse than what Sidum did. Sent hundreds to their death to save himself." Ronon shrugged. "That's not you. We all know that."
"Just because I don't intend to kill you all doesn't mean I know what I'm doing," John snorted, but at least the life was returning to his voice.
"Shut up," Ronon smirked. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah," John laughed, despite himself. "Thanks. Hand me another beer, would ya?"
---
Once the beer was gone, and John was yawning, Ronon couldn't think of an excuse to prolong the inevitable. "Should probably head in," he admitted, pretending not to dread the emptiness of his room.
"Yeah," John said, at length. "It's late." He remained still for a few moments more, a strange look on his face, before eventually deciding to stand. His eyes met Ronon's briefly as they gathered up the empty cans.
Nothing was said as they walked. It was too late, and everything else could wait until tomorrow, but Ronon found himself slowing his pace as they made their way back towards the entrance.
"What is it?" John quirked his brow and tensed his jaw, casting a look over his shoulder to scan the empty pier.
"Nothing." Ronon chided himself, and resumed walking. "Sorry."
"Okay."
They went through the doors, and Ronon wondered if he was the only one who left his words out on the pier. Dropped them somewhere, either to be found again when they were running and the world had righted itself, or if they'd already been blown out to sea.
"Alright," John said, as they headed down into the residential quarter, Ronon's door lurking just out of sight behind the approaching turn. "It's probably nice to be crashing in your own bed for once, huh?"
Yeah, but. "Yeah," Ronon lied, waving his hand over the control panel, careful not to let his sudden irritation show. "I'm beat."
"'Kay," John said, smirking slightly, he offered a brief wave as he edged away, continuing on down the hallway.
Ronon stepped into his room and found himself glaring at his bed, feeling like he'd just missed some chance somewhere, and that this wasn't where he was supposed to end up.
Morning will come. Everything will be back to normal. This, whatever the hell it is, will make sense.
---
The sound of the chime was so quiet that he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it, but when he opened the door, John was standing in the hallway for the second time in a night. When his eyes eventually found Ronon's, they were puzzled and nervous.
"I. Ah. Look. There's something I've got to do. Mind if I come in?" He stepped, just barely, into the room, looking around, maybe scanning for threats and finding nothing but Ronon. The door closing behind him seemed to lend steel to his spine, though.
Even as it robbed Ronon of his. What- he wanted to ask, but it was buried underneath too much of the debris shaking loose in his head, and he couldn't dig it out. Not with John standing there in his room, too damned close to miss anything.
John's head was tilting to the side the way it did whenever he was calculating tactical options, and his expression was tense enough that he'd probably moved on to considering the outcomes. There was a subtle shift in his shoulders, and a twitch at the corner of his jaw, pulling at the edge of his mouth.
He's biting his lip, Ronon thought, distractedly, and he stepped forward. He felt himself raising his hand with some vague intention of pressing a hand to John's face, wanting to smooth the tension from his mouth, but John caught his wrist.
Ronon froze, startled, but John pulled him closer, down, to brush a small kiss against his lips. Another, and then again, and Ronon found himself pressing back, remembering how this worked, almost like it hadn't been ten years…
Then the glint and the flash of it hit, what they were doing and what it all meant, and Ronon couldn't feel anything else besides yes and the need for more. The taste of stale beer and the feeling of John's sides relaxing under his palms, when did I reach out to touch, and the inevitability of it all.
Eventually, though, they broke apart, but John's face was still so close that it was all Ronon could see. Still a little overwhelmed, he closed his eyes against the sight, and tipped his forehead down until it touched John's, until they shared the same air. He wanted to tell John something- everything- but didn't know where to start. There was too much, and they'd already skipped too far ahead, and he couldn't remember their starting point.
"Here," he began, but he wasn't sure what it meant, or where it was supposed to go, or how one simple word could feel so awkward against his mouth when John's lips had felt so natural.
He drew another breath and was about to try again, but John was already shaking his head, leaning back to watch him. His eyes began to look a little less certain, but John didn't look away, and didn't let go. "We really need to talk about this right now?"
"Gods no." Ronon laughed, relieved, and stepped closer, needing to bridge the small distance before it grew any wider. Starting to think that this time, it might hold.
"Then we should probably just soldier on," John smirked, leaning in again. "Just watch the arm."
The end.
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Chapter 10
"Roth is heading back to earth, under the attorney's advisement," Carter said, trying to hide her frustration. "He will remain in holding at the SGC until we get this sorted. However, we do have the evidence that he is the one that shot at you."
"What about attacking Ronon?"
"At this point, we have no actual proof, but the JAG suspects it's related. He'll want your statements, of course. I'd like you both to talk to him at your earliest convenience, but in the case," Carter cast an apologetic look in Ronon's direction. "We don't know if it's going to be enough."
Ronon got to his feet and stalked out onto the balcony, and Sheppard watched Carter watching him leave, the frustration plain on her face. .
"How's he doing?" Carter asked, grimly, once the door slid shut behind him.
"I don't even know how I'm doing, so," John smirked.
"Right. Well. I think, for the time being, that the situation is in hand, and, more importantly, that the threat is gone. You might want to tell him that."
---
Ronon stopped pacing when he heard the door open behind him, but he didn't turn to face John. "So that's it?"
"For the time being, it looks that way. The justice system at work."
"Great." Ronon didn't bother to hide his irritation. Don't know why you're satisfied with this. "We're just going to sit here and wait for someone else to figure out why he turned on us?" Ronon shook his head. We're going to trust someone else with this, instead?
"Look. I've been thinking about that. About all of this. We need to retrace our steps back to when this all started."
"The infirmary?" Ronon scowled. "They couldn't find anything."
"New Sanacra is when it all started going to hell. You still haven't told me what happened, by the way."
Ronon leaned against the railing, watching the water hitting the side of the pier below. "There's nothing to tell," he sighed, and continued, anyway. "I ran into you, I walked around for a while. Started getting tired, so I was heading in. Heard noise, found Sahlen bleeding. He shoved a knife into my hand like he thought I'd need it, and pointed me towards the gate, telling me that the Councilor was dead and that you'd retreated." And then I was alone. How the hell is that going to help anything?
"But we hadn't, and you wound up on Sanacra," John finished with a grin. "Seems pretty deliberate."
"Yeah. It's great news," Ronon rolled his eyes. "How does that explain anything?"
"Won't know until I get there," John decided, his hand already reaching up to his radio.
"I'm coming with you."
John dropped his hand. "Ronon, if they think you-"
"I don't give a damn. You're not going without me."
"Fine," John sighed, resigned. "As long as Keller allows it."
---
Keller, of course, decided in Ronon's favor, just as John had dreaded. The mission was set for the next morning.
---
It hadn't occurred to him that they probably didn't need to sleep in the same room anymore. But it hadn't occurred to anyone else to inform them, either. If Ronon was awake or asleep, John couldn't tell, and he couldn't think of a reason to ask. Couldn't think of a reason to give this up. Whatever this was, he'd let himself get away with it.
Scratch that. He could- he'd had the list memorized for years now. But he wouldn't.
I thought you wanted to leave us. Then, I thought you had. Then you came back, and I thought we were going to lose you. But you're here, now, I haven't stopped thinking yet, and I'm pretty damned sure I know why.
It was well past midnight, and though John's eyes were closed, he wasn't sleeping. Just listening to Ronon, in the next bed.
---
"If you wish to hold onto your life, you must first hold onto your weapons," Ronon's father chided, disarming him again and pinning him loosely to the ground. "Try again."
Ronon glared at the training knife, stuck mutely into the grass a few hand-spans away. Taking a breath, he reached out for it, wondering how many more times he'd have his face ground into the dirt before he figured it out. He pushed himself up and back, already turning to attempt another attack.
Ronon lay on his cot, trying to resist the urge to roll over to see the clock on the bedside table, to see if John was asleep. In case he wasn't.
If he'd been feeling less selfish, earlier, he would have continued on down the hallway and returned to his own room, instead of following John into his. Instead of shrugging more carelessly than honestly when John turned off his computer, asking if he was ready to crash.
Because he had been, at the time. Just not enough, apparently. He should have been able to sleep. It was quiet and it was warm. Three knives, his gun, and his closest ally were all safely within arm's reach.
But, given the choice, he would have reached for John first, and if he could admit that much to himself, he could probably admit to a hell of a lot more.
---
It was market day when they stepped through New Sanacra's gate and into the square, judging by the sheer number of people staring back at them when they arrived.
"Hi folks," Sheppard called out, waving his uninjured arm as two jumpers came through behind them and rose to cover their position. "We need to talk to Healer Sahlen. You might want to get one of the Councilors out here as well."
Voices began to stumble over each other as the noise grew to a din, but after a few moments, the crowd parted to let a woman in Councilor's robes stalk through. She trailed four armed guards in her wake, and Sheppard could see several more taking positions around the edge of the crowd.
He glanced over to make sure McKay hadn't started waving his P90 around yet, and found him watching Ronon, who was watching the guards with his hand near his hip. Teyla also seemed to be taking her cues from him, but she cast her eyes out over the mass of people.
Turning back to the crowd, he saw Sahlen being ushered forth by two more guards. He had the look of a man who knew his fate and just wanted it over with, but it was too soon to tell if it was something Sheppard could use.
Sahlen stopped short, though, when he saw Ronon standing with Sheppard's team.
The Councilor stopped before them, a well-used frown on her face, and stared briefly at Sheppard's sling for a moment before speaking. "I am Lysta. We have not met, but I do know who you are. What is the meaning of this?"
Teyla raised her palms, her voice calm. "That is what we are attempting to discover. New information has come to our attention that we believe you should hear. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss the matter in private?"
Lysta shook her head, indicating the crowd with a wave of her hand. "Whatever you have to say, you can say to all of us."
"So be it," Teyla bowed her head, looking sideways at Sheppard, ceding the spotlight.
"All right, look. Councilor Sidum was murdered, right?"
"That is correct. Have you returned to face the charges?"
"We were accused falsely, and I believe that Sahlen, here, knows why."
"What cause have you to make such an accusation?" The Councilor said, her eyes darting sharply in Sahlen's direction.
"He told me my people had retreated and sent me after them, but I wound up on Old Sanacra instead," Ronon growled, his glare never leaving Sahlen's terrified face.
The crowd's reaction was immediate and loud.
"That only proves that he aided your escape," the Councilor almost hissed, waving her arm sharply to silence the crowd. "We will hear more of this matter, but it hardly clears your innocence."
"It's enough for me," Sheppard said, refusing to buckle under her glare. "So, in the interest of any continued diplomatic relations between our people, I would like to hear his reasoning about it right now, if you don't mind."
"It's all right," Sahlen sighed, stepping forward, palms raised in surrender. "It is, truth be told, a relief."
"Then you do know who was responsible?"
"I do, Councilor Lysta. And while he is of their people, he is not among them now," he said, glancing warily up at the jumpers. "Not that I can see."
"Why did you say nothing?"
"Cowardice, Councilor. Cowardice. I was terrified of admitting my part in such a gruesome act."
"Did Councilor Sidum die at your hands?"
"No, Councilor. He did not. I believe that their man, Roth, was his murderer."
"Why do you say that?" McKay had the sense to look abashed at his interruption.
"He promised that he would have Sidum removed from power, in exchange for Ronon Dex's life. I did not, however, fully understand what he meant at the time. "
"Tell us what happened," Lysta crossed her arms, her chin jutting out at a furious angle, and Sheppard wondered if the only thing preventing her from ordering an immediate execution was the presence of guests. "Leave nothing out."
"On the day of Councilor Sidum's death," Sahlen began, addressing John, "not long before you arrived, Roth approached me with the offer. Caught up in the moment, I agreed, but as the sun set on the day, I realized I could not stomach the idea."
"It is good to hear that you were reluctant to turn on your own people," Lysta spoke primly, the sarcasm in her voice plain.
Sahlen snorted. "It would be, if Sidum was truly of our people, but he betrayed us all, long ago."
"Your opinions of the action have long since been a matter of public record, Healer. For now, I would like to hear that which I do not already know."
"Of course, Councilor," Sahlen stared down at the ground as he put his thoughts in order. "I went to Councilor Sidum's house, prepared to warn him of the offer made to me, and I found him. He had been stabbed. I tried to revive him, yet I could not. His body was already without life." Sahlen held a hand to his forehead, trying to block out the stares of the crowd. "I panicked, Councilor, when I realized the full meaning of Roth's word, and I ran. I never meant-" Sahlen sighed, his throat working to swallow.
Finding composure enough to continue, he raised his head to face the Councilor once again. "Through the window, I saw Ronon Dex walking nearby, and in that instant, knew the choice was out of my hands. Roth's plan had already been set into action. I hurried to the ring and opened the portal, and then raised the alarm."
Sheppard took an abortive step forward. "Why did you help him escape?"
"I could not kill him, but nor could I allow him to be found, as I was, at the time, sure that it would prove my involvement. I opened the ring to our old world and sent him through, knowing that he would be lost, but alive."
"You know that is a death sentence."
"According only to Councilor Sidum. You know that we have no proof of his claims, and Ronon Dex's presence here today only proves the contrary."
"I do not understand," Teyla said, glancing apologetically towards the Councilor, waiting for her permission before continuing. "Why would you agree to such an arrangement?"
"He wanted revenge," Ronon said, the understanding in his voice less surprising than Sheppard would have expected.
Sheppard tore his eyes away with a shake of the head, over the staring crowd and back to Lysta. "Well, you'll be happy to know that the disease is gone, and that their population is growing."
The Councilor's eyes were untrusting, speculative. "You can provide evidence of this?"
"Not as of yet," Sheppard admitted.
McKay cut in with a smug tone. "Not until we fix their gate."
The change in the Councilor's demeanor was instant as hope replaced anger. "You would be willing to undertake such a thing?"
"That depends," Sheppard stepped forward before McKay could answer. "I'm willing to forgive being arrested and nearly executed without a trial. We'll just call it a diplomatic hiccup. However." He turned to Sahlen. "I am still concerned with the fact that you sent Ronon here to a planet that might kill him."
Sahlen snorted in frustration and repeated himself. "I did not think it would do him any harm."
"Good enough for me," Ronon said, cutting McKay and Sheppard off before they could complain. Teyla bowed to hide her smile at McKay's irate expression.
Sheppard snorted. "Fine. But we want to know everything that Lieutenant Roth told you. Right now."
"As you must be aware, Roth and his teammates were regular visitors to our world. Of the four, Roth was the most approachable."
"What do you mean?"
"The one, Doctor Parrish, was very excitable and hard to understand at times. Your Major Lorne was very polite, but also quite distant. The other one, Amundson. I'm sorry to say, but he remained quite, ah..."
"Rude?"
"Yes. Roth was the one who became most known to us, and we became friends as a result. I told him of my frustrations, and he told me of his."
"Which were?"
"I am sure you would not like them repeated in such a public arena," Sahlen said, looking nervously between Sheppard's face and the jumpers hovering overhead.
"Let's not worry about that right now." Sheppard shook his head. Pretty sure my reputation isn't the one you ought to be worrying about right now, Bucko.
"We promise no offense will be taken," Teyla explained, urgently. "But it is information of vital importance."
"He said that the way things were run on your world were horrible. That someone who took suicidal risks was responsible for the lives of others, and that your leaders trusted untrustworthy people. He very much desired the opportunity to repair the situation, but his placement in your ranks forbade it."
Sahlen paused, again rubbing at his neck. "Roth made it clear that there were two individuals that, once removed, would create space for worthier persons to step in." Sahlen glanced pointedly in Ronon and Teyla's direction, but did not meet their eyes.
McKay sighed. "So how do you go from that to murder?"
"You would have to ask him, as I could not find it in myself to go that far."
---
Ronon squinted against the bright light of the hallway when he found John on the other side of his door. He felt himself smirking, suddenly very relieved to see John standing there. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
"I'm. Ah." John rubbed a hand through his hair. "Guess I just got too used to being on overdrive. My brain hasn't figured out how to stop."
Ronon nodded tiredly. "I know the feeling." There's too much space in here. You're supposed to take up some of it.
"Thought you might. I figure there's only one answer for it." John hefted the six-pack he was carrying. "Beer on the pier?"
Ronon ducked back and grabbed a heavier shirt. "Good idea."
---
Two beers later, and Ronon was wishing that John would just speak, already, but he couldn't find anything to say, either. Nothing that would take John's mind off Roth, Sahlen or any of the answers they'd found. Nothing that would get them past this.
No use avoiding it. He sighed, crushing the beer can and setting it aside. "He was wrong, you know. Roth."
John turned slightly to look at him with eyes that would have been tired, were they not so tense. "What about him?"
"He said you weren't a good leader," Ronon busied himself opening another beer, annoyed at how stiffly the words had come out.
John's shrug was too weak to be agreement. "Who knows. I didn't see this coming."
"No one did. I didn't," Ronon sipped his beer, training his eyes on a far point on the water. "And hell, you heard Lorne when he got out of the jumper. He was freaked. Worked with the guy every day, and never suspected anything, either."
"Right. It's just. What if someone else decides to pick up where he let off? I don't know where to go from here."
Ronon said nothing for a while. "When I was on Sateda, my taskmaster. The leader of my branch betrayed us. Far worse than what Sidum did. Sent hundreds to their death to save himself." Ronon shrugged. "That's not you. We all know that."
"Just because I don't intend to kill you all doesn't mean I know what I'm doing," John snorted, but at least the life was returning to his voice.
"Shut up," Ronon smirked. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah," John laughed, despite himself. "Thanks. Hand me another beer, would ya?"
---
Once the beer was gone, and John was yawning, Ronon couldn't think of an excuse to prolong the inevitable. "Should probably head in," he admitted, pretending not to dread the emptiness of his room.
"Yeah," John said, at length. "It's late." He remained still for a few moments more, a strange look on his face, before eventually deciding to stand. His eyes met Ronon's briefly as they gathered up the empty cans.
Nothing was said as they walked. It was too late, and everything else could wait until tomorrow, but Ronon found himself slowing his pace as they made their way back towards the entrance.
"What is it?" John quirked his brow and tensed his jaw, casting a look over his shoulder to scan the empty pier.
"Nothing." Ronon chided himself, and resumed walking. "Sorry."
"Okay."
They went through the doors, and Ronon wondered if he was the only one who left his words out on the pier. Dropped them somewhere, either to be found again when they were running and the world had righted itself, or if they'd already been blown out to sea.
"Alright," John said, as they headed down into the residential quarter, Ronon's door lurking just out of sight behind the approaching turn. "It's probably nice to be crashing in your own bed for once, huh?"
Yeah, but. "Yeah," Ronon lied, waving his hand over the control panel, careful not to let his sudden irritation show. "I'm beat."
"'Kay," John said, smirking slightly, he offered a brief wave as he edged away, continuing on down the hallway.
Ronon stepped into his room and found himself glaring at his bed, feeling like he'd just missed some chance somewhere, and that this wasn't where he was supposed to end up.
Morning will come. Everything will be back to normal. This, whatever the hell it is, will make sense.
---
The sound of the chime was so quiet that he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it, but when he opened the door, John was standing in the hallway for the second time in a night. When his eyes eventually found Ronon's, they were puzzled and nervous.
"I. Ah. Look. There's something I've got to do. Mind if I come in?" He stepped, just barely, into the room, looking around, maybe scanning for threats and finding nothing but Ronon. The door closing behind him seemed to lend steel to his spine, though.
Even as it robbed Ronon of his. What- he wanted to ask, but it was buried underneath too much of the debris shaking loose in his head, and he couldn't dig it out. Not with John standing there in his room, too damned close to miss anything.
John's head was tilting to the side the way it did whenever he was calculating tactical options, and his expression was tense enough that he'd probably moved on to considering the outcomes. There was a subtle shift in his shoulders, and a twitch at the corner of his jaw, pulling at the edge of his mouth.
He's biting his lip, Ronon thought, distractedly, and he stepped forward. He felt himself raising his hand with some vague intention of pressing a hand to John's face, wanting to smooth the tension from his mouth, but John caught his wrist.
Ronon froze, startled, but John pulled him closer, down, to brush a small kiss against his lips. Another, and then again, and Ronon found himself pressing back, remembering how this worked, almost like it hadn't been ten years…
Then the glint and the flash of it hit, what they were doing and what it all meant, and Ronon couldn't feel anything else besides yes and the need for more. The taste of stale beer and the feeling of John's sides relaxing under his palms, when did I reach out to touch, and the inevitability of it all.
Eventually, though, they broke apart, but John's face was still so close that it was all Ronon could see. Still a little overwhelmed, he closed his eyes against the sight, and tipped his forehead down until it touched John's, until they shared the same air. He wanted to tell John something- everything- but didn't know where to start. There was too much, and they'd already skipped too far ahead, and he couldn't remember their starting point.
"Here," he began, but he wasn't sure what it meant, or where it was supposed to go, or how one simple word could feel so awkward against his mouth when John's lips had felt so natural.
He drew another breath and was about to try again, but John was already shaking his head, leaning back to watch him. His eyes began to look a little less certain, but John didn't look away, and didn't let go. "We really need to talk about this right now?"
"Gods no." Ronon laughed, relieved, and stepped closer, needing to bridge the small distance before it grew any wider. Starting to think that this time, it might hold.
"Then we should probably just soldier on," John smirked, leaning in again. "Just watch the arm."
The end.