Time Baby (a.k.a. Look! I Finally Managed a One-Shot)
Title: Time Baby
Rating: PG-13
By: Jendavis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Ah, not the very short crackfic that I originally intended. ;)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: This is for gaffsie's request, who, in response to my request for requests, responded: "Did someone say 'overused fanfic trope'? Let's hear it for ancient de-aging devices!" I really have no idea if this is what you were hoping for, but here you go anyway, dear!
Time Baby
John should have hauled Ronon over to the infirmary the first time he tripped over his own feet, but he didn't.
"I'm fine," Ronon growled, picking himself up, stretching once, and continuing their run. He still beat John to the end of the pier with no problem, shoved him behind the rampart, and leaned in for a kiss, same as every other morning.
Two days later, Ronon has to be reminded who John is.
Tuesday
Ronon doesn't show for the mission, and no one's seen him since last night.
It takes three hours to find him, and when John does, it's like that fist meeting all over again, only this time John's waking up on the floor of the jumper bay instead of a cave. Doesn't matter, his head still hurts the same.
When his head clears, Ronon's got his gun trained on him, almost casually, like he doesn't have to think about it.
"Where am I?" Ronon asks, his voice deadly. "Who are you?"
"Ronon. I'm John," he says, carefully, thinking that he's getting far too used to this sort of thing. "You're in Atlantis. We're friends, but you need to go to the infirmary."
"John?" Confusion and the effort to remember make Ronon's face look younger, but the gun doesn't waver. "How do you know my name?"
John tells him, tries to explain, once and again, but by the time they make it to the infirmary, Ronon doesn't remember anything more than what he's just been told.
Wednesday
John tries for three hours to make Ronon remember, but has to settle for meeting him for the first time all over again.
Keller doesn't let Ronon out of the infirmary for two days.
Friday
It's decided that John should be the first one Ronon sees when he wakes up in the morning, because Keller's afraid to sedate him when she doesn't know what's going on, and a little afraid that they'll run out of non-concussed medics.
John plays along with it, like it was her idea. Like he's never shared a room, never mind a bed with the man. Even though he's a stranger, now, more than anything. He even looks a little different. John's not sure why he thinks it, but once the thought's there, it won't leave.
Saturday
He wakes before Ronon does, reintroduces himself, and talks Ronon through it, all over again. And he knows, it's something missing around the eyes, something missing inside his head, but John knows what's going on, even before Keller comes on the radio and asks to see them in the infirmary.
"Well, we found it. Ronon's getting younger. We just don't know why."
The information isn't any help at all, so John looks over at Ronon, who's guarding his place on the bed warily, and calls McKay.
Sunday
Physically, Ronon's a very healthy man in his early twenties, with nothing to explain it.
And John's worried, he's damned worried, because no one's found an answer yet, not the doctors, not Teyla, not McKay or their contacts.
It takes him even longer to remind Ronon where he is. Spends an hour trying to assure him that the wraith are not about to attack the city because of his presence. But he can't convince him that he's safe, that they all are.
Ronon won't calm down until they're at the very edge of the pier, far away from everyone, and won't stop trying to convince John to leave him there. To leave him alone, and get back to safety.
John gets Teyla to bring them some food, and later, when it's already too late to stop his skin peeling, some sunscreen. It's late at night when Ronon's aches return, and John talks him into the idea of a room with walls and a door and a real bed.
He radios ahead. Makes sure the hallways are empty when they pass through.
Monday
John's got his script honed down now, and it still seems to be working, but it's three hours before Ronon is willing to respond to Teyla at all. McKay's already decided to sit this introduction cycle out. Just works in his lab all day, diving through the database looking for answers and not talking to anyone.
John can't even complain to him how annoying it is that a twenty year old can't remember his own thirtieth birthday. Just spars with Ronon in the gym, takes him down too easily. Any other day, he'd crow about it.
Tuesday
Lorne's team has to go offworld; they can't put the mission off any longer, so John has to go in to in the office. Has to pretend like his head's in the game, where it should be. It's a miracle that the wraith or the Genii don't decide to invade.
Ronon shadows him, but doesn't say a word all day. Then again, he probably didn't say much the first time he was nineteen.
Wednesday
Ronon's already awake when John sits up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, his clothes a little looser than they were yesterday. Instead of asking where he is, what he's doing there, or who John is, he asks where his parents are. John's too stunned to tell him anything but the truth.
Takes Ronon down to the gym and hopes he'll work out some aggression. Doesn't follow him outside when that doesn't help. Radios Lorne to make sure security gives him a wide berth, and spends the rest of the day checking the life signs detector every three minutes. Every time he does, he finds that Ronon's moved again.
Thursday
Instead of the truth, John tells Ronon his parents will return in two days, and then at breakfast, yells at McKay.
By noon, McKay's yelling back, because he's got an answer. A lead, at least. One of the devices, in one of the labs, from the survey a week and a half ago. Ronon follows John and McKay down there, but if it's familiar to him, he gives no indication.
It's familiar to John, though, and he chokes out a desperate laugh, because he's always so damned careful, and Ronon is- was- always making fun of his caution. Calling him paranoid and assuring him that there was at least another half hour before they had to check in with the other teams.
"I promise not to touch anything, long as you touch me," he smirked, as John steadied his hands on Ronon's hips and sank to his knees, letting him win this round.
But now, Ronon's standing, arms crossed and wary and seventeen years old, bored. The angry expression still looks natural on him. Even if he's supposed to glancing smugly sideways over at John because he knows something Rodney doesn't.
Because Ronon doesn't know. Ronon doesn't know that it's John's blind fucking stupidity that's erasing his life, day by fucking day.
John thinks he growls something at McKay about fixing it, but he's not sure. His head's still in the room, but it's about thirteen years away.
Friday
McKay tells John, in a panicking voice, that he can't fix the console, can't fix Ronon, and John considers setting the city's self-destruct, just to light a fire under his ass.
Saturday
Ronon thinks he's been kidnapped, but is much easier to disarm than he was yesterday. John takes the weapons back to his own room and locks them up for safekeeping while Ronon waits in the hallway, under guard.
By noon, Ronon's forgotten all about that, too. He's dumped John in favor of Carter, apparently.
At lunch, he tells everyone within earshot that he's going to marry her someday. Breaks into her office and leaves poetry in her desk. They're written in Satedan, and Carter can't read them, but she's a little amused, a little flattered.
It would be adorable, if it didn't mean that they were losing him, she says.
John nods honestly for the first time in weeks. He knows exactly how that feels.
Sunday
Ronon's gotten skinny, gotten acne, and he hates everyone more than usual. John decides that the kid's got his reasons and lets him. But he still won't let him have any beer, even if he is fourteen years old and his parents let him have it when he was twelve.
When he figures out where Ronon's stomped off to, he finds that Teyla's already slipped him some wine. Finds out that somewhere, in the space of a day, John's become a horrible tyrant who exists only to ruin Ronon's life, and Teyla's become some sort of cool aunt or something.
By the time they turn in, John's too tired to fight any more, too tired to patch things up. Ronon won't let him, anyway, but at least he falls asleep quickly.
John thinks Teyla might be the coolest person ever.
Monday
Teyla forces John to take the day off, and by that afternoon, he's hearing from Lorne that Ronon's been wrangled into babysitting.
John catches Ronon making funny faces at Torren, manages to grab a few photos, because he never managed to snap any of the other times they were watching the kid. And Ronon, at thirteen or thirty, and as stone-faced as he is, can mug with the best of them.
John shoves the camera in a pocket before Ronon notices he's there, wondering if it's going to hurt to look at the pictures.
Tuesday
They're standing in Carter's office, while Ronon's in the control room trying to convince Banks to open the gate, or make the lights flash, or blow up the mess hall or something.
McKay's explaining that he could try out one modification or another, but he's worried about the results. He thinks the device is designed to bring Ronon back to normal, but lets John order him to develop a plan B, anyway. He doesn't even argue.
"Why would the Ancients use this sort of technology?" Carter asks.
"Seriously?" McKay shakes his head. "The Ancients Were Idiots lecture is still on the server. Just download it again."
Wednesday
Ronon's eleven years old and tries not to cry when John tells him that his parents will be there in the morning.
Thursday
"And that is why we don't play tag in the ancient labs," Rodney finishes his lecture and backs away at the sound of Ronon's answering growl.
"We weren't playing. Just. Exploring," John reasons, leaning slightly into the surprisingly strong pull of Ronon's hand on arm. "Besides. It's not his fault."
"I wasn't yelling at him, you idiot."
He sticks his tongue out at Rodney's turned back, and catches Ronon doing likewise. Decides to take the opportunity to teach Ronon how to properly give someone the finger. He's a quick study.
Friday
Ronon's showing him handstands in the gym, and John decides that maybe, for a guy that never thought he'd have kids, he's handling this parenting thing all right.
As long as he ignores the no you're not this is fucked up it's going to screw with his head it's already screwing with yours and what sort of fucked up pervert has to hide weapons and lube on the nine year old that they'd been sleeping with for two years and even if this gets sorted out how the hell are you supposed to come back from this and it's totally unfair and what the fuck are you complaining about anyway, because Ronon's the one who's going through this you selfish fucking prick.
But yeah. Later on, Ronon's taking a bath, and Cadman stops by, bearing an ugly green stuffed animal, and telling John that he'd make a great father. It's not until after she leaves that he realizes that it's not a dinosaur, it's fucking Cthulu, tentacles and all. He gives it to Ronon anyway.
Saturday
John has had the entire city searching for Ronon for hours now.
According to the life signs detector, Ronon found a way into the air ducts about two hours ago. They are, of course, too small for anyone else to crawl into, so Zelenka and McKay are going through the wall.
"Ronon," John calls, feeling foolish and looking at Teyla, to see if she's got any sort of clue how to handle this. "Can you hear me? We'll have you out in a little bit. Are you okay?"
There's no answer, and John's about to have a fucking heart attack, he just knows it, and glances over to Teyla again. Her face looks calm, but she's cradling Torren just a bit more tightly than is absolutely necessary. It doesn't reassure him any.
Finally, they slide the panel to the side, manage to get the vent open, and find Ronon. The little bastard's asleep.
He wakes up as John drags him out, and shakes his head, smiling, when they start in on the We Were Worried About You Don't Do That Again speech. It's taken two days to develop it, and they're pretty sure it's not perfected yet.
"It's okay," Ronon yanks John's wrist, drags him back towards the opening. "It's dark in there but there aren't any wraith, see?" and he launches himself up towards the opening, like he's going to lead them on some sort of freakin' tour.
He sulks when they reseal the vent, and doesn't stop until dinner, when McKay slides him his ice cream in apology. After that, everything is back to normal in the eyes of the eight-year old.
Before going to bed, he teaches John how to play Hunt the Wraith, and is annoyed by how bad John is at hiding.
Sunday
John wakes up in the middle of the night, because in one week, he's knows he's going to wake up, look over to Ronon's bed, and find a fetus lying there. If he's lucky. If Ronon's there at all.
In the morning, he follows John around even more closely, without being told. John tries to get him to explain what it's like to be going through this, but Ronon has no clue what he's on about. Wants to go play outside.
When Carter suggests to John that he find a sitter, John's not sure if it was Ronon's small hand that grabbed at his first.
It's not brought up again.
Monday
Again, John promises Ronon that his parents will be there in the morning, and tells him several bedtime stories.
Ronon seems delighted that in all of them, the hero shares his name.
Tuesday
McKay doesn't stop complaining about Ancients, scientists, missed sleep, skipped meals, even as they start eating lunch.
John doesn't realize that Ronon's been watching and listening, until he stands up, walks around the table, and sets his orange on McKay's plate.
McKay doesn't stop shouting as he gathers up his tray, and the orange rolling to the floor untouched. Watching him leave the mess and trying not to laugh, John feels Ronon tugging at his sleeve.
"Food only makes it worse. Should I tell him he should take a nap, or is that your job?"
Wednesday
John's not a parent.
Parents don't look at their children expecting to lose them within a week.
Thursday
Rodney hasn't slept in days. He's trying to reset the machine, and nothing's working.
When he does eventually collapse, letting Zelenka's team take over, he wakes up to urgent reports of a small fire. A short in the system, caused by an unstable interface.
He sucks down coffee. Kneels in front of the machine and tries to salvage another fragment of undamaged tech from the console. Tries to ignore the ache in his back while rebuilding the damned thing out of old motherboards and crystals and tin fucking cans.
John's hoping for a miracle, and would stay there to nag McKay's brain into submission, but Ronon won't stop crying. No one can concentrate.
Friday
Ronon babbles. A lot. It would be funny, if anything was funny anymore. Because he doesn't understand anything, either. Not even the lies John tells him, the ones about his parents. That everything's fine.
John can't remember any lullabies, so he's been playing the guitar. Thinks that Johnny Cash should have worked as well as anything, but it's Creedence that Ronon eventually falls asleep to.
Saturday
Ronon can't do much of anything at all. Can't run away and get into anything anymore, can't say horribly awkward things to Lorne or Parrish.
John's too fucking terrified to be relieved.
Too tired, too worn out. Too panicked to listen to Teyla as she tries to give him the advice he should be asking for. Too distracted, because she's holding Torren in her lap, sure that he'll be there in the morning, next week, next year, and John?
Feels like he should at least get the chance to explain himself again. Knows he wouldn't be able to find the words if Ronon was sitting there, normal and adult and full-grown. Tries to explain everything anyway, while Ronon wriggles in his lap, spitting mashed carrots into his shirt.
Sunday
1400 hours, and he's standing in the doorway with Ronon in his arms, looking out into the hallway.
"I'll handle this from here on out," he explains to Teyla and Rodney, Keller and Carter. Carter nods. Keller's trying to find a point to argue. McKay's heading down towards the lab again, but the set to his shoulders isn't promising. Teyla steps forward and takes Ronon from his arms for a moment, pressing her forehead into his, letting him tug at her hair.
Just in case, John thinks, as he steps back, watching the door slide shut.
John sits by Ronon's bed, too scared to watch what happens next. Afraid that Ronon's going to blink out of existence the moment he looks away. Afraid to pick him up again because he can't feel Ronon disappear in his arms. He just. Fucking. Can't.
Monday
Ronon feels like he's been sleeping for weeks, but he's still tired. Too tired to figure out why John's so damned hysterical, so he yanks him up from where he's kneeling by the bed. Drags him close and wraps his arms around John until his breathing sounds right again.
Figures he can give it a few minutes before asking why he's the only one lying here naked.
Rating: PG-13
By: Jendavis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Ah, not the very short crackfic that I originally intended. ;)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: This is for gaffsie's request, who, in response to my request for requests, responded: "Did someone say 'overused fanfic trope'? Let's hear it for ancient de-aging devices!" I really have no idea if this is what you were hoping for, but here you go anyway, dear!
Time Baby
John should have hauled Ronon over to the infirmary the first time he tripped over his own feet, but he didn't.
"I'm fine," Ronon growled, picking himself up, stretching once, and continuing their run. He still beat John to the end of the pier with no problem, shoved him behind the rampart, and leaned in for a kiss, same as every other morning.
Two days later, Ronon has to be reminded who John is.
Tuesday
Ronon doesn't show for the mission, and no one's seen him since last night.
It takes three hours to find him, and when John does, it's like that fist meeting all over again, only this time John's waking up on the floor of the jumper bay instead of a cave. Doesn't matter, his head still hurts the same.
When his head clears, Ronon's got his gun trained on him, almost casually, like he doesn't have to think about it.
"Where am I?" Ronon asks, his voice deadly. "Who are you?"
"Ronon. I'm John," he says, carefully, thinking that he's getting far too used to this sort of thing. "You're in Atlantis. We're friends, but you need to go to the infirmary."
"John?" Confusion and the effort to remember make Ronon's face look younger, but the gun doesn't waver. "How do you know my name?"
John tells him, tries to explain, once and again, but by the time they make it to the infirmary, Ronon doesn't remember anything more than what he's just been told.
Wednesday
John tries for three hours to make Ronon remember, but has to settle for meeting him for the first time all over again.
Keller doesn't let Ronon out of the infirmary for two days.
Friday
It's decided that John should be the first one Ronon sees when he wakes up in the morning, because Keller's afraid to sedate him when she doesn't know what's going on, and a little afraid that they'll run out of non-concussed medics.
John plays along with it, like it was her idea. Like he's never shared a room, never mind a bed with the man. Even though he's a stranger, now, more than anything. He even looks a little different. John's not sure why he thinks it, but once the thought's there, it won't leave.
Saturday
He wakes before Ronon does, reintroduces himself, and talks Ronon through it, all over again. And he knows, it's something missing around the eyes, something missing inside his head, but John knows what's going on, even before Keller comes on the radio and asks to see them in the infirmary.
"Well, we found it. Ronon's getting younger. We just don't know why."
The information isn't any help at all, so John looks over at Ronon, who's guarding his place on the bed warily, and calls McKay.
Sunday
Physically, Ronon's a very healthy man in his early twenties, with nothing to explain it.
And John's worried, he's damned worried, because no one's found an answer yet, not the doctors, not Teyla, not McKay or their contacts.
It takes him even longer to remind Ronon where he is. Spends an hour trying to assure him that the wraith are not about to attack the city because of his presence. But he can't convince him that he's safe, that they all are.
Ronon won't calm down until they're at the very edge of the pier, far away from everyone, and won't stop trying to convince John to leave him there. To leave him alone, and get back to safety.
John gets Teyla to bring them some food, and later, when it's already too late to stop his skin peeling, some sunscreen. It's late at night when Ronon's aches return, and John talks him into the idea of a room with walls and a door and a real bed.
He radios ahead. Makes sure the hallways are empty when they pass through.
Monday
John's got his script honed down now, and it still seems to be working, but it's three hours before Ronon is willing to respond to Teyla at all. McKay's already decided to sit this introduction cycle out. Just works in his lab all day, diving through the database looking for answers and not talking to anyone.
John can't even complain to him how annoying it is that a twenty year old can't remember his own thirtieth birthday. Just spars with Ronon in the gym, takes him down too easily. Any other day, he'd crow about it.
Tuesday
Lorne's team has to go offworld; they can't put the mission off any longer, so John has to go in to in the office. Has to pretend like his head's in the game, where it should be. It's a miracle that the wraith or the Genii don't decide to invade.
Ronon shadows him, but doesn't say a word all day. Then again, he probably didn't say much the first time he was nineteen.
Wednesday
Ronon's already awake when John sits up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, his clothes a little looser than they were yesterday. Instead of asking where he is, what he's doing there, or who John is, he asks where his parents are. John's too stunned to tell him anything but the truth.
Takes Ronon down to the gym and hopes he'll work out some aggression. Doesn't follow him outside when that doesn't help. Radios Lorne to make sure security gives him a wide berth, and spends the rest of the day checking the life signs detector every three minutes. Every time he does, he finds that Ronon's moved again.
Thursday
Instead of the truth, John tells Ronon his parents will return in two days, and then at breakfast, yells at McKay.
By noon, McKay's yelling back, because he's got an answer. A lead, at least. One of the devices, in one of the labs, from the survey a week and a half ago. Ronon follows John and McKay down there, but if it's familiar to him, he gives no indication.
It's familiar to John, though, and he chokes out a desperate laugh, because he's always so damned careful, and Ronon is- was- always making fun of his caution. Calling him paranoid and assuring him that there was at least another half hour before they had to check in with the other teams.
"I promise not to touch anything, long as you touch me," he smirked, as John steadied his hands on Ronon's hips and sank to his knees, letting him win this round.
But now, Ronon's standing, arms crossed and wary and seventeen years old, bored. The angry expression still looks natural on him. Even if he's supposed to glancing smugly sideways over at John because he knows something Rodney doesn't.
Because Ronon doesn't know. Ronon doesn't know that it's John's blind fucking stupidity that's erasing his life, day by fucking day.
John thinks he growls something at McKay about fixing it, but he's not sure. His head's still in the room, but it's about thirteen years away.
Friday
McKay tells John, in a panicking voice, that he can't fix the console, can't fix Ronon, and John considers setting the city's self-destruct, just to light a fire under his ass.
Saturday
Ronon thinks he's been kidnapped, but is much easier to disarm than he was yesterday. John takes the weapons back to his own room and locks them up for safekeeping while Ronon waits in the hallway, under guard.
By noon, Ronon's forgotten all about that, too. He's dumped John in favor of Carter, apparently.
At lunch, he tells everyone within earshot that he's going to marry her someday. Breaks into her office and leaves poetry in her desk. They're written in Satedan, and Carter can't read them, but she's a little amused, a little flattered.
It would be adorable, if it didn't mean that they were losing him, she says.
John nods honestly for the first time in weeks. He knows exactly how that feels.
Sunday
Ronon's gotten skinny, gotten acne, and he hates everyone more than usual. John decides that the kid's got his reasons and lets him. But he still won't let him have any beer, even if he is fourteen years old and his parents let him have it when he was twelve.
When he figures out where Ronon's stomped off to, he finds that Teyla's already slipped him some wine. Finds out that somewhere, in the space of a day, John's become a horrible tyrant who exists only to ruin Ronon's life, and Teyla's become some sort of cool aunt or something.
By the time they turn in, John's too tired to fight any more, too tired to patch things up. Ronon won't let him, anyway, but at least he falls asleep quickly.
John thinks Teyla might be the coolest person ever.
Monday
Teyla forces John to take the day off, and by that afternoon, he's hearing from Lorne that Ronon's been wrangled into babysitting.
John catches Ronon making funny faces at Torren, manages to grab a few photos, because he never managed to snap any of the other times they were watching the kid. And Ronon, at thirteen or thirty, and as stone-faced as he is, can mug with the best of them.
John shoves the camera in a pocket before Ronon notices he's there, wondering if it's going to hurt to look at the pictures.
Tuesday
They're standing in Carter's office, while Ronon's in the control room trying to convince Banks to open the gate, or make the lights flash, or blow up the mess hall or something.
McKay's explaining that he could try out one modification or another, but he's worried about the results. He thinks the device is designed to bring Ronon back to normal, but lets John order him to develop a plan B, anyway. He doesn't even argue.
"Why would the Ancients use this sort of technology?" Carter asks.
"Seriously?" McKay shakes his head. "The Ancients Were Idiots lecture is still on the server. Just download it again."
Wednesday
Ronon's eleven years old and tries not to cry when John tells him that his parents will be there in the morning.
Thursday
"And that is why we don't play tag in the ancient labs," Rodney finishes his lecture and backs away at the sound of Ronon's answering growl.
"We weren't playing. Just. Exploring," John reasons, leaning slightly into the surprisingly strong pull of Ronon's hand on arm. "Besides. It's not his fault."
"I wasn't yelling at him, you idiot."
He sticks his tongue out at Rodney's turned back, and catches Ronon doing likewise. Decides to take the opportunity to teach Ronon how to properly give someone the finger. He's a quick study.
Friday
Ronon's showing him handstands in the gym, and John decides that maybe, for a guy that never thought he'd have kids, he's handling this parenting thing all right.
As long as he ignores the no you're not this is fucked up it's going to screw with his head it's already screwing with yours and what sort of fucked up pervert has to hide weapons and lube on the nine year old that they'd been sleeping with for two years and even if this gets sorted out how the hell are you supposed to come back from this and it's totally unfair and what the fuck are you complaining about anyway, because Ronon's the one who's going through this you selfish fucking prick.
But yeah. Later on, Ronon's taking a bath, and Cadman stops by, bearing an ugly green stuffed animal, and telling John that he'd make a great father. It's not until after she leaves that he realizes that it's not a dinosaur, it's fucking Cthulu, tentacles and all. He gives it to Ronon anyway.
Saturday
John has had the entire city searching for Ronon for hours now.
According to the life signs detector, Ronon found a way into the air ducts about two hours ago. They are, of course, too small for anyone else to crawl into, so Zelenka and McKay are going through the wall.
"Ronon," John calls, feeling foolish and looking at Teyla, to see if she's got any sort of clue how to handle this. "Can you hear me? We'll have you out in a little bit. Are you okay?"
There's no answer, and John's about to have a fucking heart attack, he just knows it, and glances over to Teyla again. Her face looks calm, but she's cradling Torren just a bit more tightly than is absolutely necessary. It doesn't reassure him any.
Finally, they slide the panel to the side, manage to get the vent open, and find Ronon. The little bastard's asleep.
He wakes up as John drags him out, and shakes his head, smiling, when they start in on the We Were Worried About You Don't Do That Again speech. It's taken two days to develop it, and they're pretty sure it's not perfected yet.
"It's okay," Ronon yanks John's wrist, drags him back towards the opening. "It's dark in there but there aren't any wraith, see?" and he launches himself up towards the opening, like he's going to lead them on some sort of freakin' tour.
He sulks when they reseal the vent, and doesn't stop until dinner, when McKay slides him his ice cream in apology. After that, everything is back to normal in the eyes of the eight-year old.
Before going to bed, he teaches John how to play Hunt the Wraith, and is annoyed by how bad John is at hiding.
Sunday
John wakes up in the middle of the night, because in one week, he's knows he's going to wake up, look over to Ronon's bed, and find a fetus lying there. If he's lucky. If Ronon's there at all.
In the morning, he follows John around even more closely, without being told. John tries to get him to explain what it's like to be going through this, but Ronon has no clue what he's on about. Wants to go play outside.
When Carter suggests to John that he find a sitter, John's not sure if it was Ronon's small hand that grabbed at his first.
It's not brought up again.
Monday
Again, John promises Ronon that his parents will be there in the morning, and tells him several bedtime stories.
Ronon seems delighted that in all of them, the hero shares his name.
Tuesday
McKay doesn't stop complaining about Ancients, scientists, missed sleep, skipped meals, even as they start eating lunch.
John doesn't realize that Ronon's been watching and listening, until he stands up, walks around the table, and sets his orange on McKay's plate.
McKay doesn't stop shouting as he gathers up his tray, and the orange rolling to the floor untouched. Watching him leave the mess and trying not to laugh, John feels Ronon tugging at his sleeve.
"Food only makes it worse. Should I tell him he should take a nap, or is that your job?"
Wednesday
John's not a parent.
Parents don't look at their children expecting to lose them within a week.
Thursday
Rodney hasn't slept in days. He's trying to reset the machine, and nothing's working.
When he does eventually collapse, letting Zelenka's team take over, he wakes up to urgent reports of a small fire. A short in the system, caused by an unstable interface.
He sucks down coffee. Kneels in front of the machine and tries to salvage another fragment of undamaged tech from the console. Tries to ignore the ache in his back while rebuilding the damned thing out of old motherboards and crystals and tin fucking cans.
John's hoping for a miracle, and would stay there to nag McKay's brain into submission, but Ronon won't stop crying. No one can concentrate.
Friday
Ronon babbles. A lot. It would be funny, if anything was funny anymore. Because he doesn't understand anything, either. Not even the lies John tells him, the ones about his parents. That everything's fine.
John can't remember any lullabies, so he's been playing the guitar. Thinks that Johnny Cash should have worked as well as anything, but it's Creedence that Ronon eventually falls asleep to.
Saturday
Ronon can't do much of anything at all. Can't run away and get into anything anymore, can't say horribly awkward things to Lorne or Parrish.
John's too fucking terrified to be relieved.
Too tired, too worn out. Too panicked to listen to Teyla as she tries to give him the advice he should be asking for. Too distracted, because she's holding Torren in her lap, sure that he'll be there in the morning, next week, next year, and John?
Feels like he should at least get the chance to explain himself again. Knows he wouldn't be able to find the words if Ronon was sitting there, normal and adult and full-grown. Tries to explain everything anyway, while Ronon wriggles in his lap, spitting mashed carrots into his shirt.
Sunday
1400 hours, and he's standing in the doorway with Ronon in his arms, looking out into the hallway.
"I'll handle this from here on out," he explains to Teyla and Rodney, Keller and Carter. Carter nods. Keller's trying to find a point to argue. McKay's heading down towards the lab again, but the set to his shoulders isn't promising. Teyla steps forward and takes Ronon from his arms for a moment, pressing her forehead into his, letting him tug at her hair.
Just in case, John thinks, as he steps back, watching the door slide shut.
John sits by Ronon's bed, too scared to watch what happens next. Afraid that Ronon's going to blink out of existence the moment he looks away. Afraid to pick him up again because he can't feel Ronon disappear in his arms. He just. Fucking. Can't.
Monday
Ronon feels like he's been sleeping for weeks, but he's still tired. Too tired to figure out why John's so damned hysterical, so he yanks him up from where he's kneeling by the bed. Drags him close and wraps his arms around John until his breathing sounds right again.
Figures he can give it a few minutes before asking why he's the only one lying here naked.