Two of A Kind, a stargate: atlantis fanfic

Title: Two of A Kind

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag for Common Ground

Rating: K+

Series: Atlantis 'Time' Stories – Story #11

Season: Season 3

Summary: The commonality of scars brings two soldiers closer as friends.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for Stargate Atlantis are the property of MGM Worldwide Television Distribution, Sony Pictures Television and Acme Shark Cooper/Wright Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Author's Note: Sheppard's reference to losing his family comes from my story "An Officer and A Gentleman Atlantis Style".

Two of A Kind

After hours on the farthest western tower of the city, John felt the first points of eastern sunlight creeping around his shoulders. Like the demons of all his past hurts, the light of reality was after him again.

He didn't want the darkness to end. He was safe in its arms, even safer than he was in Teyla's loving grip. In the days since his rescue from Kolya, he'd found protection in the empty blackness of the night. The harsh, lingering fear and pain that he had to hide from everyone, fought to come out only in the daylight.

He knew he couldn't suppress it much longer. What was left of his old barriers had been severely tested this time. His admission that he had a life back in Atlantis and was going to return to it had broken down the last remnants of the self-defensive persona he'd come to the Pegasus Galaxy with over two years ago.

Ronon's cautious movements as he came up beside John alerted him before he heard the deep modulated voice, "Sheppard?"

In the growing light, John looked up at his teammate from his hunched over position at the railing. He continued hugging the railing with his folded arms. "Sorry if I intruded on your private space. I figured this tower was the last place anyone would expect to find me."

"Unless they did a scan of the city."

In an annoyed voice, John blurted, "If you're going to throw logic at me, I won't play the game."

Ronon leaned his arms on the railing and looked out over the ocean.

The long silence finally got to John and he asked sharply, "Did Teyla send you?"

"No," Ronon answered calmly.

All the smart-alecky repartee he thought of didn't seem to fit this new silence, so John asked the one question only Ronon could answer, "How long does it take for the scar to go away?"

"Which one?"

John's body began trembling noticeably and it found its way into his voice, "I look in the mirror and there's nothing there on my chest. No visible scar. No evidence that my life was almost drained from my body. But it's in my head, playing out over and over and over again. It's as bad as when I lost my family all those years ago."

His voice heavy with his own emotions, Ronon said, "The old feeding scar on my chest is so faded, I have to look close to see it. The memories of that last day, of Melena and my people, are still there. It never really goes away. But I can live with it now."

Turning to his teammate, John thought about the deeper friendship that had grown between them in recent months. Only weeks ago they'd gotten very drunk together after Ronon and Elizabeth had announced they were expecting a baby. The boisterous celebrating had become too much for the two women who had left them to their 'guy' talk. For the first time ever, both men had shared their past histories, discovering how much loss each had endured and overcome.

The body-trembling had eased but the painful emotions kept John's voice tremulous, "Teyla never asks, no matter how much she wants to."

"Neither does Elizabeth. She just loves it away when it gets too close. And it still does, sometimes," Ronon mused in the soft voice he always used when talking about his mate.

Almost to himself, John added, "They know our deepest, darkest secrets but they love us anyway." As the full light covered the western sky, he felt the fear begin drifting away. "Why do we keep going out there?"

"Because it's who we are. Two hardass soldiers who don't know any other way. We can't all be geniuses like McKay."

John let a small laugh escape so that his friend would know he understood the Satedan's style of empathy. The subtle comforting was repayment for the silent comfort he had given when Ronon needed to unload his own grief not long ago over the loss of their child, away from the devastated Elizabeth.

Except for the woman each loved, neither man was openly affectionate, but this rare moment in their lives seemed to call for it. Ronon's hand clamped down on John's shoulder and stayed there for long beats. Remembering the embrace between Beckett and Ronon on the jumper after the escape from Sateda, John did his own version of a bear hug.

"Thanks, buddy."

"You're welcome."

During their walk to the transporter, there was a renewed lightness in John's movements that came out in his voice as he discussed the next scheduled mission with Ronon.