Title: Priorities (1/1)
Author:
funkyinfishnetSummary: Trying to deal with tragedy alone brings pain, injury and exhaustion. But comfort and strength can be found together. Established relationship fic.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 4, especially Kindred.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like to write them.
Notes: Thanks to Claire for being a wonderfully insightful beta. I always worry I'm not writing them right so I'd love all thoughts. Enjoy
Today had not been a good day.
Jennifer let out a frustrated sigh, raising her tired eyes from the microscope. It still wasn’t getting any better.
“Are you okay, Dr Keller? You’ve been working all afternoon without a break.”
Melanie, one of the nurses, was at the office doorway and looking concerned.
“What time is……oh!” Jennifer exclaimed, looking at her watch and then taking in the darkened empty infirmary. Very different from when she’d last looked up. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten so involved in her work that she’d lost track of time. “Wow…….and I haven’t made that much progress.”
“It’s only been one day,” Melanie reminded her.
“I know,” the image of Dr Beckett in stasis flickered through Jennifer’s mind. She turned her attention back to her colleague. “Is everything ok?”
“I was just about to leave,” Melanie made an apologetic expression. “But um…….there’s a problem.”
Jennifer got to her feet immediately. A problem could mean anything from glass cuts ,or Dr McKay refusing to leave the infirmary until he was the focus of all medical expertise, to a colossal disaster like another unidentified disease.
It also usually meant a member of Colonel Sheppard’s team had gone through the gate. One member in particular flashed to the forefront of her thoughts.
“What is it?”
“It’s Ronon. He won’t let me treat him and I know you’re busy, but I thought……”
“Of course,” Jennifer was quick to reassure Melanie. “You did the right thing.”
Melanie at her heels, Jennifer headed into the infirmary itself. She could clearly see Ronon, sitting on a bed, and Colonel Sheppard waiting, arms crossed.
Despite the late hour and the horribly dispiriting day, her heart started doing its usual excited dance at the sight of the Satedan and a smile tugged a little at her lips.
She hadn’t seen him since saying goodbye to Carson. Ronon had said he was going to get a workout, and she’d headed right back to her office. They hadn’t even touched, Jennifer realised now with a sudden pang, just said a few words and gone their separate ways. Since then, she’d been focused on her research, on the cells under her microscope, and the findings the other researchers had brought her.
She’d been alone and hadn’t gotten anywhere. She didn’t want to be that way anymore tonight. She wanted to be with him.
“Another sparring…….”
Her words stuttered to a stop. She was only vaguely aware of Melanie murmuring goodbye. There was a wound on Ronon's temple that was still dripping blood down his neck, one of his arms was bloody and clawed, and there was something about the way his left foot was hanging that looked like he was favouring it.
By anyone’s standards, even Ronon’s, he was in bad shape.
“So I take it this isn’t from sparring?” she said at last, managing to glare at her patient.
The Colonel was the one who replied. “I wish I could take the credit. But Ronon decided it would be fun to find opposition off base tonight.”
“Where?” Jennifer’s hands planted themselves on her hips.
“One of the Kischon arenas,” Sheppard supplied.
Jennifer’s eyes widened. Major Lorne’s team had rescued a cache of slaves from the arenas only the week before and had closed down at least three of them. Apparently not all of them.
She had treated the slaves’ wounds and the injuries the team had suffered in the rescue mission.
“Well……” Sheppard grinned slightly like he knew exactly how much trouble Ronon was in. “I’ll leave you in the doc’s capable hands.”
After he left, Ronon stayed silent and parts of her insides quivered.
“When you said you were going for a workout, I assumed you meant sparring or the gym,” she told him.
“Was in the mood for something else,” was all Ronon said.
Jennifer worked on him in fuming scared silence. He could have been killed. He didn’t look sorry and she knew why. Worse still, she understood.
She had focused on finding a cure. He had gone looking for a fight.
“Did it help?” she asked, in clipped tones at odds with the gentle way she worked on his head wound.
Ronon shrugged, an indefinable expression on his face for a moment. It was pain, Jennifer realised. Her methodical touch became a caress.
“For now,” he replied at last.
Jennifer’s fingers paused and her gaze slid down to his face. He was serious. Something rose up her throat that she struggled to keep down.
“Ronon…….” it came out like a sigh and she found Ronon’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer when she’d been taking a step back to chew him out. As his doctor and as his lover. “I understand why you did what you did. What happened today……” her words failed her as Ronon’s expression darkened at the reminder. “But you can’t do things like that by yourself. Look what happened.”
“I'll be okay.”
His hands were firm on her waist and his expression was so sure. But Jennifer looked defiantly back at him, arms folded. She knew she was right about this.
“No, you won't be.”
Whatever Ronon heard in her voice made him tug her closer so that she was cradled against his body. Jennifer let him.
In her work, there was a lot of hope and she had held onto that since Carson had gone into stasis. But who knew how long it would take to engineer a successful cure? Carson himself knew the odds of that. She’d told him they’d do it. Failure wasn’t an option.
She didn’t want to lose Ronon too.
She could feel the stitches and bandage on Ronon’s arm and was careful to avoid his foot. He shouldn’t walk on it for a while, but he would. With Teyla still missing, he was needed on his team more than ever before.
For now
“Don’t do this to yourself,” she whispered thickly against his chest. When he didn't answer, she straightened so that she could look him in the eye. “Please, Ronon. Don't go out there alone.”
Ronon reached out and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. The tenderness of the gesture warmed her.
“I’ve got something to come back to,” he told her, a slight smile twisting his mouth.
The pause stretched out. Jennifer smiled, a small sunburst flickering steadily inside of her at his words. She squeezed his arm gently in gratitude.
“How many did you get out?” she asked quietly, wanting to know.
“A couple of families, some girls,” Ronon’s expression hardened a little. “There’s more in there.”
“We'll get them out,” Jennifer told him, hand firm on his arm.
Ronon didn't look completely convinced, and Jennifer remembered the traumatised slaves she'd so recently treated and the stories Lorne's team had told her. Ronon changed the subject.
“You getting anywhere with the research?”
“Nowhere fast,” sighed Jennifer, dragging a hand through her hair. “It could take a really long time.”
“You’ll get there,” Ronon sounded so sure that Keller had to look up into his eyes to see that reassurance. “You’re good at what you do.”
At that, Jennifer leant forward, hand gentle on his cheek, and pressed her grateful smile to his lips. She could feel his echoing smile as he held her close. Her stomach rumbled rebelliously into the moment.
“You want some food?”
The question was practically rhetorical and Jennifer blushed a little. She hadn’t eaten much all day, too consumed in the desperate possibilities of her work.
Ronon’s smile grew and he levered himself off the bed, taking her hand. He held on all the way to the canteen and the shadows stayed away. Jennifer had always assumed that her work would be the only place she’d find peace and safety and shelter. She’d been gloriously wrong.
Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay were sitting in the otherwise empty canteen, eating and talking. McKay seemed to be doing most of both. Colonel Sheppard looked really tired. Jennifer loaded up her tray. There weren’t any kitchen staff around, but they’d left plenty of food out. They always did after a particularly bad catastrophe. It was an extremely good idea.
“Dr Keller,” Sheppard nodded his head as she and Ronon sat down next to each other. “How’s the research going?”
Jennifer tried to smile encouragingly, but her mouth became a hard tight line as she thought about the fruitless trials she’d conducted all afternoon. She felt Ronon rest his hand on her thigh under the table. He didn’t look at her, but she could feel his reassuring and solid presence.
“It’s early days,” she replied at last, trying to sound positive. “We have ideas. It’s trying to make them work long-term that’s the problem.”
“Well, you keep us updated on how everything’s going.”
Jennifer nodded and began tucking into her food. She really was starving. Halfway through her helping of meat stew and mashed potatoes, she realised that Ronon had slid his second portion of chocolate pudding onto her tray.
She smiled her thanks at him and his hand began working therapeutic circles into her knotted shoulder muscles. The chocolate tasted wonderful.
“You’ve worked pretty hard today.”
Ronon’s voice was close in her ear and Jennifer leant against him in wordless reply. Sheppard had gotten a call on his radio from Colonel Carter and McKay had bustled off soon after, claiming to be close to a breakthrough as long as his staff hadn’t screwed anything up in his absence.
“So did you,” she reminded him. “Just don’t go out there without backup again, please?”
“I’ll try.”
Now that felt like a breakthrough and Jennifer smiled gratefully at him. If she wasn’t so drained, she’d make him promise. That could wait.
She slept really well that night. Ronon was gone in the morning. He had an early meeting about what he’d found at the arenas, and Jennifer had to check through the notes her staff had made about the newly-rescued slaves. Once they’d recovered sufficiently, they’d be relocated somewhere safer.
After another fruitless lead on Teyla had been chased, Colonel Sheppard’s team closed down the remaining Kischon arenas. They came back with a lot more huddled and injured slaves. It took Jennifer and her staff a couple of long and emotionally-exhausting days to see to them all.
Several had died during the time between Ronon’s rescue and the team getting there.
That afternoon, as Jennifer once again took her place before the microscope, she heard the door swish open. Ronon took a seat across the room from her and began sharpening one of his knives. He stayed until Colonel Sheppard came looking for his sparring partner. He came back the next day, and the one after that.
Jennifer still wasn’t making much more progress. But she got fed because Ronon brought her food whenever he was hungry, and a really good shoulder massage when he noticed her trying to knead an unreachable spot after several hours hunched over her work. She also left before the infirmary was deserted. Most of the time.
And Ronon stuck to authorised team missions. Mostly. So she didn’t lecture him too hard when she had to stitch up another sparring wound.
They both got more sleep.
-end