Challenge - Bring It On
I wrote this story a while ago. It's a tag to Season 4's Reunion, so beware of spoilers for that episode. It was inspired by the song 'Bring It On' by Trace Adkins. The current 'Music' challenge on One Sweet Love reminded me of this fic, so I went back over it, tweaked it a bit, and here it is.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Title: Bring It On
Author: starg8fans
Category: Hurt/comfort, challenge
Rated: G
Warnings: Spoilers for 'Reunion'
Bring It On
Troubled soul, all alone
I can feel your sadness
The heartache and the madness
Are hittin' hard tonight
Ronon was the last to come out of the jumper. Behind its layer of sweat, blood and grime his face was an expressionless mask. His five teammates of the ill-fated mission to the Wraith lab were waiting for him, their faces full of concern. Without acknowledging their presence, Ronon stalked right past them. From years of habit, John and Teyla fell into step behind him to accompany him to the infirmary.
Walking down a corridor, they came to an intersection and Ronon turned left.
“Wait a minute,” John reminded him. “Sick bay is this way.”
Ronon stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I’m going to my quarters,” he said.
“Ronon, you need somebody to tend to your injuries,” Teyla tried to reason with him.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what you always say. You’re anything but,” John insisted. “Now get yourself to the infirmary or else…”
Ronon whirled around. With the blood caked on his face and his teeth bared in a snarl, he was a scary sight.
“Or else what, Sheppard?” he spat. “Are you going to force me? I just fought three of the best Satedan warriors. Two of them are dead. What do you think you could accomplish?”
Too stunned for words, John and Teyla stood and watched as their teammate disappeared around the next bend.
You're cornered up and hunkered down
The walls are tall around you
For anyone to break through
It's gonna be a fight
Balancing the tray with the first aid supplies on her hip, Jennifer Keller rang the chime on Ronon’s door. There was no answer. She hadn’t been expecting one, not after what Colonel Sheppard had told her about Ronon’s current frame of mind.
Nervously, Jennifer licked her lips. This tall Alien with the glossy dreads scared her, even when he was in a good mood. She wished herself a million miles away. But she was a doctor, and there was a patient behind this door. With a sigh, she used her CMO access card to override the door lock and stepped into the room.
It was almost completely dark inside. Only the lights that illuminated the city at night were coming through slits in the drawn shutters. But her entrance caused the lighting in the room to increase to a comfortable, soft glow, so Jennifer could make out the bed and the figure on it.
Ronon was lying on his back, knees drawn up and his arms crossed under his head. He was staring at the ceiling, ignoring her. Biting her lip, Jennifer moved closer.
“Hi,” she said. “Colonel Sheppard told me that you didn’t feel like coming to the infirmary, so I decided to make a house call.”
There was no reply, so Jennifer continued.
“He also said your face got slashed with a knife. I need to take a look at that.”
Still no answer. By now she had reached the bed. She put her tray down on a chest of drawers and was just reaching for a bottle of distilled water, when Ronon spoke.
“I don’t need any help.”
“Okay,” Jennifer thought, “so it can talk.”
Out loud she said, “At least let me wash that blood off your face.”
Ronon sat up with a jerk, making her jump.
“I just wanna be alone,” he snarled.
Taking a deep breath, Jennifer stood her ground. “I understand that,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable. “But as a doctor I also have a job to do here and I intend to finish it. So the more you cooperate the faster I will be gone again.”
The silence seemed to stretch forever, the giant on the bed and the petite doctor standing next to him locking eyes and wills. Finally Ronon nodded ever so slightly.
“Go ahead.”
Bring it on, bring it on
All your heartache and frustration
You've been done wrong too long
And I'm strong enough to change it.
“Okay, that’ll do for now,” Jennifer announced, putting the antiseptic wipe she had used to pat down the stitches back on the tray. “You were very lucky. The knife sliced through your eyebrow and into your upper cheek. It’s a miracle it missed your eye.”
Ronon had gone to silent mode again, so Jennifer decided to call it a day.
“Alright,” she said, “I will see you in the infirmary tomorrow morning for a proper post mission checkup.”
“I don’t need one.”
Getting thoroughly frustrated with Ronon’s stubbornness, Jennifer replied heatedly, “Oh yes, you do. And if you refuse, I will ground you.”
That finally got a reaction. With a roar, Ronon jumped from the bed and grabbed her upper arms in a grip of iron.
“Make no mistake, doctor, tomorrow morning I’m going out there and I’m going to kill some Wraith. With or without your permission, with or without my team.”
Jennifer had taken enough psychology classes to recognize this thirst for revenge for what it was - a way of dealing with the aftereffects of severe emotional trauma. If only she had thought of including Kate Heightmeyer in this house call - but hindsight was useless at this point. She had managed to crack his shell just a little bit, so the moment to bring his hurt and anger out into the open and deal with it was now.
Making her voice as cold as possible, and looking right into his eyes, she said, “And what do you think you can accomplish on your own? How many dead Wraith do you think does it take to make you feel better? Let me tell you, there aren’t enough out there. In the end you will only get yourself killed, or worse captured, which would endanger not only your friends here but the whole city.”
With a roar of fury, Ronon shook her, then pushed her away. He began pacing the room, beside himself with fury and grief.
“Every Wraith that breathes is one too many. They ruin everything they touch, turn it into something horrible. My home - destroyed. My wife - dead. A quarter of my life wasted running. And my best friends… turned so they would betray me. It’s my destiny. They are killing me, bit by bit. Taking everything away, everything…”
In his rage, he crashed his fist full tilt into a wall. The pain brought Ronon back to his senses. Cradling his hand against his chest, he dropped down onto the bed.
Wondering if she had pushed him too far, Jennifer sat down beside him.
“Let me see that,” she said gently, reaching for his injured hand. The knuckles were skinned, and little droplets of blood had begun to seep out. Moving the fingers carefully to check for any broken bones, she said, “Look. You’re not doing justice to yourself. You may think that the Wraith control your destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it, but that’s only half the story. The other half is what you make out of it.”
Ronon lifted his drooping head a little, and peered at her through the curtain of his dreads.
“What do you mean?”
“Okay, some examples. Fate made you a Specialist, but you made yourself a squad leader. Fate made you a runner, but you made yourself a survivor and Wraith killer. Fate brought you on Colonel Sheppard’s team, but you earned yourself his trust and his respect.”
Jennifer could tell from Ronon’s furrowed brow that his mind was battling with this new concept.
“But you have to take control of that other half, and the first step is to accept Atlantis as your new life. Fate brought you here, but only you can make this your home. Permanently. Without hoping that somehow you can still get back what you had on Sateda.”
“But how could I forget…”
“I’m not talking about forgetting,” Jennifer interrupted him. “I’m talking about putting it behind you, making it a chapter of your life that is closed. Forever.”
Securing the end of the bandage she had wrapped around his hand with a piece of medical tape, Jennifer got up.
“You should try and get some rest now. And remember, infirmary, first thing tomorrow morning. Okay?”
Ronon looked up at her, his eyes slightly dazed, as if he was seeing her for the first time. After a moment he nodded.
“I’ll be there.”
Maybe in time, we'll turn water into wine
Maybe love is what we'll find
Bring it on...
Jennifer yawned until her jaw cracked. Her office was the only illuminated part of the infirmary, that was blissfully empty at the moment. God, she hated paperwork. It had a tendency of accumulating, and then she had to pull all nighters to catch up. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was just past midnight. Funny, from the tiredness in her bones she’d thought it was much later than that. The session with Ronon had exhausted her emotionally, and she decided to call it a day.
Suddenly she heard the sound of the infirmary door opening. Great, just her luck that some emergency should come in now that she was more than ready to get some sleep.
“I’m in here,” she called. She waited, but there were no approaching footsteps. Puzzled, she got up and walked out her office door - and right into a looming figure that was standing just outside. For a moment she lost her balance, but a strong arm around her waist steadied her.
“What… who… Ronon?” she gasped.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Why, sure,” Jennifer answered, very much aware of the fact that his arm was still around her waist. Ronon didn’t appear to notice, he was determined to have his say.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, and… Well, I wanted to thank you. And I wanted to tell you you’re right. It’s time for me to put the past behind me.”
“That’s great, Ronon,” Jennifer said warmly, curious where this was going.
“So I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“I mean, you know so much about this… this stuff inside people, feelings and so on… and there are things in my past that I have never told anybody. Can I maybe talk to you about them? Some time?”
It's not too late to fly away
And I won't try to stop you
So you do what you've got to
I'll understand
But if you need a place to land
A haven, safe and certain
Someone to share your burden
Then take my hand
The look he gave her almost made Jennifer’s knees buckle, and she was glad for his supporting arm around her. “Okay, this is new,” she thought. The man she had considered a menace until now was about to totally sweep her off her feet. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him everything was gonna be alright.
All traces of fatigue gone, Jennifer allowed herself to move even closer to Ronon, putting both of her hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm and silky beneath her fingers. Looking up into his eager face, she smiled.
“No time like the present. Let's get some coffee, and you can start telling me about yourself.”
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Title: Bring It On
Author: starg8fans
Category: Hurt/comfort, challenge
Rated: G
Warnings: Spoilers for 'Reunion'
Bring It On
Troubled soul, all alone
I can feel your sadness
The heartache and the madness
Are hittin' hard tonight
Ronon was the last to come out of the jumper. Behind its layer of sweat, blood and grime his face was an expressionless mask. His five teammates of the ill-fated mission to the Wraith lab were waiting for him, their faces full of concern. Without acknowledging their presence, Ronon stalked right past them. From years of habit, John and Teyla fell into step behind him to accompany him to the infirmary.
Walking down a corridor, they came to an intersection and Ronon turned left.
“Wait a minute,” John reminded him. “Sick bay is this way.”
Ronon stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I’m going to my quarters,” he said.
“Ronon, you need somebody to tend to your injuries,” Teyla tried to reason with him.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what you always say. You’re anything but,” John insisted. “Now get yourself to the infirmary or else…”
Ronon whirled around. With the blood caked on his face and his teeth bared in a snarl, he was a scary sight.
“Or else what, Sheppard?” he spat. “Are you going to force me? I just fought three of the best Satedan warriors. Two of them are dead. What do you think you could accomplish?”
Too stunned for words, John and Teyla stood and watched as their teammate disappeared around the next bend.
You're cornered up and hunkered down
The walls are tall around you
For anyone to break through
It's gonna be a fight
Balancing the tray with the first aid supplies on her hip, Jennifer Keller rang the chime on Ronon’s door. There was no answer. She hadn’t been expecting one, not after what Colonel Sheppard had told her about Ronon’s current frame of mind.
Nervously, Jennifer licked her lips. This tall Alien with the glossy dreads scared her, even when he was in a good mood. She wished herself a million miles away. But she was a doctor, and there was a patient behind this door. With a sigh, she used her CMO access card to override the door lock and stepped into the room.
It was almost completely dark inside. Only the lights that illuminated the city at night were coming through slits in the drawn shutters. But her entrance caused the lighting in the room to increase to a comfortable, soft glow, so Jennifer could make out the bed and the figure on it.
Ronon was lying on his back, knees drawn up and his arms crossed under his head. He was staring at the ceiling, ignoring her. Biting her lip, Jennifer moved closer.
“Hi,” she said. “Colonel Sheppard told me that you didn’t feel like coming to the infirmary, so I decided to make a house call.”
There was no reply, so Jennifer continued.
“He also said your face got slashed with a knife. I need to take a look at that.”
Still no answer. By now she had reached the bed. She put her tray down on a chest of drawers and was just reaching for a bottle of distilled water, when Ronon spoke.
“I don’t need any help.”
“Okay,” Jennifer thought, “so it can talk.”
Out loud she said, “At least let me wash that blood off your face.”
Ronon sat up with a jerk, making her jump.
“I just wanna be alone,” he snarled.
Taking a deep breath, Jennifer stood her ground. “I understand that,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable. “But as a doctor I also have a job to do here and I intend to finish it. So the more you cooperate the faster I will be gone again.”
The silence seemed to stretch forever, the giant on the bed and the petite doctor standing next to him locking eyes and wills. Finally Ronon nodded ever so slightly.
“Go ahead.”
Bring it on, bring it on
All your heartache and frustration
You've been done wrong too long
And I'm strong enough to change it.
“Okay, that’ll do for now,” Jennifer announced, putting the antiseptic wipe she had used to pat down the stitches back on the tray. “You were very lucky. The knife sliced through your eyebrow and into your upper cheek. It’s a miracle it missed your eye.”
Ronon had gone to silent mode again, so Jennifer decided to call it a day.
“Alright,” she said, “I will see you in the infirmary tomorrow morning for a proper post mission checkup.”
“I don’t need one.”
Getting thoroughly frustrated with Ronon’s stubbornness, Jennifer replied heatedly, “Oh yes, you do. And if you refuse, I will ground you.”
That finally got a reaction. With a roar, Ronon jumped from the bed and grabbed her upper arms in a grip of iron.
“Make no mistake, doctor, tomorrow morning I’m going out there and I’m going to kill some Wraith. With or without your permission, with or without my team.”
Jennifer had taken enough psychology classes to recognize this thirst for revenge for what it was - a way of dealing with the aftereffects of severe emotional trauma. If only she had thought of including Kate Heightmeyer in this house call - but hindsight was useless at this point. She had managed to crack his shell just a little bit, so the moment to bring his hurt and anger out into the open and deal with it was now.
Making her voice as cold as possible, and looking right into his eyes, she said, “And what do you think you can accomplish on your own? How many dead Wraith do you think does it take to make you feel better? Let me tell you, there aren’t enough out there. In the end you will only get yourself killed, or worse captured, which would endanger not only your friends here but the whole city.”
With a roar of fury, Ronon shook her, then pushed her away. He began pacing the room, beside himself with fury and grief.
“Every Wraith that breathes is one too many. They ruin everything they touch, turn it into something horrible. My home - destroyed. My wife - dead. A quarter of my life wasted running. And my best friends… turned so they would betray me. It’s my destiny. They are killing me, bit by bit. Taking everything away, everything…”
In his rage, he crashed his fist full tilt into a wall. The pain brought Ronon back to his senses. Cradling his hand against his chest, he dropped down onto the bed.
Wondering if she had pushed him too far, Jennifer sat down beside him.
“Let me see that,” she said gently, reaching for his injured hand. The knuckles were skinned, and little droplets of blood had begun to seep out. Moving the fingers carefully to check for any broken bones, she said, “Look. You’re not doing justice to yourself. You may think that the Wraith control your destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it, but that’s only half the story. The other half is what you make out of it.”
Ronon lifted his drooping head a little, and peered at her through the curtain of his dreads.
“What do you mean?”
“Okay, some examples. Fate made you a Specialist, but you made yourself a squad leader. Fate made you a runner, but you made yourself a survivor and Wraith killer. Fate brought you on Colonel Sheppard’s team, but you earned yourself his trust and his respect.”
Jennifer could tell from Ronon’s furrowed brow that his mind was battling with this new concept.
“But you have to take control of that other half, and the first step is to accept Atlantis as your new life. Fate brought you here, but only you can make this your home. Permanently. Without hoping that somehow you can still get back what you had on Sateda.”
“But how could I forget…”
“I’m not talking about forgetting,” Jennifer interrupted him. “I’m talking about putting it behind you, making it a chapter of your life that is closed. Forever.”
Securing the end of the bandage she had wrapped around his hand with a piece of medical tape, Jennifer got up.
“You should try and get some rest now. And remember, infirmary, first thing tomorrow morning. Okay?”
Ronon looked up at her, his eyes slightly dazed, as if he was seeing her for the first time. After a moment he nodded.
“I’ll be there.”
Maybe in time, we'll turn water into wine
Maybe love is what we'll find
Bring it on...
Jennifer yawned until her jaw cracked. Her office was the only illuminated part of the infirmary, that was blissfully empty at the moment. God, she hated paperwork. It had a tendency of accumulating, and then she had to pull all nighters to catch up. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was just past midnight. Funny, from the tiredness in her bones she’d thought it was much later than that. The session with Ronon had exhausted her emotionally, and she decided to call it a day.
Suddenly she heard the sound of the infirmary door opening. Great, just her luck that some emergency should come in now that she was more than ready to get some sleep.
“I’m in here,” she called. She waited, but there were no approaching footsteps. Puzzled, she got up and walked out her office door - and right into a looming figure that was standing just outside. For a moment she lost her balance, but a strong arm around her waist steadied her.
“What… who… Ronon?” she gasped.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Why, sure,” Jennifer answered, very much aware of the fact that his arm was still around her waist. Ronon didn’t appear to notice, he was determined to have his say.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, and… Well, I wanted to thank you. And I wanted to tell you you’re right. It’s time for me to put the past behind me.”
“That’s great, Ronon,” Jennifer said warmly, curious where this was going.
“So I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“I mean, you know so much about this… this stuff inside people, feelings and so on… and there are things in my past that I have never told anybody. Can I maybe talk to you about them? Some time?”
It's not too late to fly away
And I won't try to stop you
So you do what you've got to
I'll understand
But if you need a place to land
A haven, safe and certain
Someone to share your burden
Then take my hand
The look he gave her almost made Jennifer’s knees buckle, and she was glad for his supporting arm around her. “Okay, this is new,” she thought. The man she had considered a menace until now was about to totally sweep her off her feet. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him everything was gonna be alright.
All traces of fatigue gone, Jennifer allowed herself to move even closer to Ronon, putting both of her hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm and silky beneath her fingers. Looking up into his eager face, she smiled.
“No time like the present. Let's get some coffee, and you can start telling me about yourself.”