Author's Note: This is a tag to the story Consequences, which was not implied R/K or McKeller so it stands on it's own. However... as many of you know... I couldn't leave it alone without giving you some squee goodies to round it all out!!!! If you haven't read Consequences, this makes a little more sense as a follow up to the story, but you can read it on its own. It's long, and I didn't have much time to beta it so it may contain (er... will contain) typos. But alas, that's how it is. So without further adieu, I give you, the TAG. :P - Nika

.

.

.

Jennifer struggled to sit up, pushing herself up off the pillow with a groan, muttering under her breath. Stupid hospital beds. Uncomfortable as hell. Damn manufacturers probably do it on purpose to make you want to leave.

She stretched and rolled her shoulders, cursing the twinge in her lower back. She'd been bedridden for a week now, four days nearly dead, and three days in recovery. Three days too long.

Carson insisted she stay in the infirmary, and for the moment, he had Woolsey's ear to over rule her attempts to check herself out.

Sure, granted, she was completely exhausted, and okay, fine she was still a little weak… but come on! She'd been, well, nearly dead. Of course she was going to have a little recovery time. But there was no reason she couldn't do it in the comfort of her own quarters. Her own bed. Her own pillow.

She'd eventually had to order everyone out of her room, the steady stream of visitors causing more grief than happiness. It wasn't that she didn't want to see everyone… but hearing stories of everything she was missing by being cooped up in the windowless room, was… well… hard to take.

And some of the visitors themselves were harder to take.

And some visitors…

Some visitors didn't come at all.

Jen sighed sadly.

John, Evan, Teyla and Rodney had been by regularly, and Laura had practically moved in when she wasn't on assignment. Carson had taken over her shifts until she was back on her feet, and made sure to come by and keep her up to date on some of the bigger items. Even Edison, Sanchez and Williams had dropped by to check up on her.

In fact, just about everyone had been by… except one. Ronon.

And she could pretty much imagine why he hadn't.

Yet despite everything, he'd been the one who'd… well… saved her life.

Yup.

She blinked back the burn that was flooding her eyes and let out a disgusted laugh. How much more pathetic could she get? He'd tracked her down when she'd been kidnapped by Kiryk, and he'd kept her safe, then rescued her from her own stupidity on the Daedalus. And he'd done it all because that's who he was.

And she'd gone and misread everything. His reaction when she'd tried to tell him she was interested in someone else would burn her mind forever. He'd said no, and she'd damn near stopped breathing to watch him walk away.

To watch him leave.

Because damn it all…

She missed him.

She honestly, truly, missed him.

Three weeks of not seeing that smirk when he came into the infirmary after some minor accident sparring. Three weeks of not hearing his low growl when he disagreed with something she said. Three weeks of not having him scare the pants of her when he'd appear out of nowhere. Three weeks of not getting shivers and goosebumps from the heat that freely radiated off him whenever he stood beside her. Three weeks of not stuttering when he looked directly at her. Three weeks of silent agony while her mind finally admitted what her heart had been trying to tell her from the second he'd turned away.

She loved him.

Loved him.

Was in love with him.

And in one brief moment of uncertainty, she'd lost him.

Even if there was… the slightest chance in ever… that he'd be interested…

Well…

She'd certainly blown that.

Though she supposed better finding out now than… well… later.

He didn't love her.

Not that he could… would… possibly be.

And she'd stood there like an idiot, supposing he was interested in her of all people, and like a panicked teenager, blurted out she liked someone else only to find out he didn't even like her.

God it was so high school! Having a junior crush on the senior quarter-back and acting like a complete fool only to find out later her admission was a laugh a minute in the locker room.

They said with age came wisdom. They also said once bitten twice shy.

Who ever the mysterious they were… well they were a bunch of big fat liars. With age just came more pain… and once bitten just meant you were twice as likely to repeat the same stupid mistake all over again.

Oh, and while we're at it, let's do it in a whole different galaxy just for kicks, hmm?

You're such an idiot.

Him and you?

Fat chance sweetheart.

She laughed, sad and torn, and swiped at an escaping tear. She lowered her feet off the side of the bed, letting them swing loosely in the air, the cuffs of the white hospital scrubs rubbing against the lower frame. Turning, she glanced at the clock on the table, the neon red numbers reading 3:27.

A.M.

She sighed, and slipped off the bed, ignoring the burn of the icy cold floor against her bare feet.

Wiping the edges of her damp eyes with the back of her hands, she pushed the heartache down into her stomach where it twisted and tightened, then settled in a knot.

She stepped cautiously towards the corridor, confirming it was empty before leaving her room. Once she'd successfully made it outside the infirmary, she slipped into the transporter, and exited in the lower levels of the crew quarters. Her quarters were off a main thoroughfare, so if she wanted to get there without being noticed, she'd need to take the long way.

With her fingers rubbing a steadying trail on the walls of the corridor, she moved slowly through the dim lighting, pausing at each intersection to double check that she was alone. When she reached the wide stairs leading up to her floor, she held her place at the bottom, staring up at what would have been a simple climb if her limbs had any energy left.

Four levels.

Four landings.

Damn Carson and the infirmary food. If she'd been allowed to eat more than bland easy-on-the-system crap, she'd have some energy. Cheeseburger. With fries. And coleslaw. Grilled cheese with ketchup. And a dill pickle. And chips. And a coke. And cake. No, not cake. Cheesecake. Cherry cheesecake.

She cursed every food group and dessert offering as she climbed each step, one food for every bare foot she managed to lift up to the next riser without topping over. By the time she reached the first landing to rest, she'd switched to using both hands on the railing, to help alleviate the burn in her thighs.

By the time she'd reached the second landing, the self-pitying tears were falling again, making her nose run while she half stepped, half pulled herself up the stairway.

She sniffed loudly, the snorting noise echoing through the quiet. She tried to wipe her nose with the back of her hand, but it meant letting go of the railing, and letting go of the railing meant she wasn't going to be able to hold herself up. Which left her with one choice.

Let her nose drip and continue her climb, or, wipe her nose and spend some recovery time sitting on her ass on the cold stairs.

She sniffed again and her legs made the decision for her. With a wobble she dropped, her arms giving her some help so she didn't land too roughly on her tailbone.

Sitting on the steps halfway between the second and third landing, she looked up to her destination above, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Two levels to the main corridor, then a right into the next hallway, another right, and an immediate left down to her room.

No problemo.

She started to laugh and shook her head at her own stupidity. With a deep breath, she dried her cheeks with the shoulders of the white scrubs, then tried unsuccessfully to pull herself back up. Settling on a different tactic, she rolled slowly onto her hands and knees in the hope she use the slope of the stairs to push herself backwards and stand up. "Don't want you to get the wrong idea…" She muttered, grabbing the railing tightly with both hands. "Don't want you to think you need to feel obligated." She sniffed, pulling herself upright with a little internal cheer. "Don't want you to think that I'm a stupid idiot…" she punctuated, moving slowly up to the third landing. "Because I'm not, I never, and I have no idea why I even said that to begin with. And it's all… just… so… typical."

Jen was so relieved to see the top landing she stumbled and had to bend forward to stop herself. Slapping her right palm on the step, she wobbled, her left hand sliding down the railing until she was once again seated on the steps, half-way to the last landing.

"D'oh…" She muttered comically. "So close, yet so far."

She lay back on the stairs, letting the sharp edges of the steps dig into her lower back, shoulder blades, and base of her skull. Resting her head against the cold metal, she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, willing the pricking twinge in her legs to go away. With a loud sigh, she crossed her right arm up over her eyes, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. Flinging her left arm wide out across the cold step she lay in the silence until her back began to remind her just how cold… and rather painful it was… to be lying up a set of Atlantian stairs.

She snorted and shook her head, wondering if she could make it to her room before the sun came up, and then deciding she was too tired to care. Although it was pretty damn cold out here in the scrubs, without a robe. Or socks. Or underwear…

She snorted.

Her mom would be so proud.

"That's right, Mom." She muttered from beneath her arms. "Your prudish daughter is running around in public with no underwear." Then she smiled. "Live fast, die young, leave clean underwear."

Silence echoed and Jen rolled her head back and forth with a sad sigh. "Okay, sorry ass." She whispered to herself. "Let's go cry our eyes out in the shower and drain the water tank so we can go to bed for a week."

A deep growl was the only warning she had before a shadow passed over her head and shoulders and landed with a vibrating thud on the step beside her waist.

Jen screeched, her arms flailing wildly as panic surged with adrenaline that tried to make her sit up faster than her body would allow. She slid down two steps and would probably have kept going if not for the arm snugly pressed around her torso.

"Are you okay?" Ronon growled, dropping down beside her, his eyes moving quickly over her body. He kept his right arm hooked around her waist while he searched her face.

"Ronon?" She gasped, clutching at her heart which was frantically trying to escape through her rib-cage. She collapsed against him, blood rushing through her ears, pretty sure that with the amount of adrenaline running through her veins right now she could run a marathon. "Jeeze, you scared me to death."

"Are you okay?" He repeated.

"What? Yes… I'm… I'm fine." She turned her head towards him.

"You're not hurt?" He exhaled quickly, helping her sit up.

"I… no…" She blinked and shook her head. "I'm fine."

He blinked then released her so quickly she had to grab the railing for support. "Then what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Jen winced at the anger he radiated in tone and stature. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her.

Jen stared. Unable to move. Unable to breathe.

He was… absolutely… furious.

Then he looked away.

And for the very first time… since that fateful day her first week in the city when she'd been the only one free to stitch him up in the infirmary… Jen felt a shiver of fear. Absolute fear. Not for what he'd do… or what he was capable of doing… but for what she'd done.

Staring up at him while he glared at a spot on the wall to his right, the muscle in his jaw clenched so tightly she could see it physically bulging, Jen finally understood.

Until this very moment she'd somehow believed it would all go away. They'd go back to normal. They'd still be friends. Everything would be fine.

But it wasn't fine, it wouldn't go back to normal, she'd never be his friend, and it was never going to go away.

Because she'd hurt him. Broken whatever fragile trust or friendship they'd formed. Crushed it. Whatever she'd thought, whatever she'd accused, whatever she'd mistaken his actions for, she'd wounded him in a way she couldn't repair, couldn't take back, and couldn't heal.

God, he looked so angry.

She stared down at her hands and swallowed hard, the burn behind her eyes swelling so fast she had to close them to keep her heart from leaking out. She threaded her arm around her waist and covered her mouth, fighting to hold it all in. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry.

The harder she chanted, the harder the tears fell. She pulled her feet up a step, and with both hands covering her face, she buried her head against her knees.

"Jennifer?"

His voice carried from above as she held her breath, knowing if she didn't exhale she wouldn't sob, and if she didn't sob, he wouldn't know she was crying. Because it was stupid to cry. Stupid and weak. Stupid and weak and all the other things he could possibly think and oh god she couldn't stop.

"Jennifer?" His voice lower. Closer.

She swallowed hard and inhaled through her nose but there was no hiding the distinctive sniff even with her face muffled against her hands and knees. When his hand splayed hesitantly against her back, heat shot through the thin material of the cotton shirt and she lost the battle.

"Oh god, Ronon." A loud sob escaped around the words. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Whoa. Hey." She felt the press of his hip as he dropped down beside her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She chanted over and over again, curling into herself, hooking her arms around her legs and pressing her eyes to her knees in a vain attempt to stop the tears.

"Jennifer. Jen. Come on. Stop." He wrapped his arms around her, trying to pull her apart from her tightly wrapped ball.

But she couldn't stop crying, didn't stop apologizing, and barely registered that she was no longer sitting on the steps until she'd thoroughly soaked through the front of his woven shirt.

"It's okay." He muttered, tightening his grip to keep her from sliding off his lap and tumbling down the stairs.

"It's not okay." She hiccuped against his chest, shaking her head back and forth. "It's not. It's not. I lied. I lied and it's not okay."

"You lied." He repeated.

She heard the confusion in his voice, and felt him trying to angle his head to see her face. She buried herself further into the front of his shirt. "I'm sorry Ronon. Please… please... please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you."

Jen didn't answer, knowing the statement for what it was. A platitude for some over tired, crazy, puffy-eyed crybaby he had stuck in his lap. She held her breath, waiting for him to finally put her down. To put her down and walk away… but he didn't.

Instead she felt him sigh, his breath teasing across the top of her head.

"Why?" He asked.

Not why did you lie. Not what did you lie about. Just… why.

Jen sniffed and held her breath, swallowed, then exhaled. He deserved to know. He deserved an answer.

"Because… because I got scared." She finally whispered.

She felt his arms stiffen and instantly regretted the words.

"Of me?"

"No." She quickly overlapped his question, hunching her shoulders and wishing she could just crawl into the floor. "Not… not like that. God, no. I just… I just… don't… know… how to do… any of this. You're just so… you. And I'm… me… and I don't know why I thought you'd be… interested… but I sort of… did… and it freaked me out because guys like you don't like girls like me so I panicked and I lied and I'm sorry."

She sat silently, waiting for him to move, or speak, or do something… anything… but he remained still, his arms around her, letting her bury her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry I made you angry." She tried again.

"You can stop apologizing anytime now."

She winced. "Sorry."

He growled.

For several minutes she stayed still on his lap, worried about moving. Worried about breaking whatever fragile thread she was holding on to right now to have him here with her. She made no motion other than to try to stifle the yawns that kept breaking into her lungs.

"Why wouldn't I like you?"

Jen laughed sadly. "You're kidding, right?"

He didn't immediately comment, but she felt his breathing change. "You think I wouldn't like you."

She nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Look at you. Your... brave. Strong. Incredibly intelligent. Sexy as all hell… and I'm… short, skinny, can barely swing a bantos rod without hitting myself with it, and I probably look like I have just spent the last half hour crying on your shirt."

He didn't move, other than the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

So she didn't move. Afraid to give it up.

In silence they sat, untilRonon took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled, his chest moving slightly. "Well… since you put it that way. Are you?" He asked, pausing before continuing. "Interested in someone else?"

Jen swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. She opened her mouth but her voice wouldn't commit for fear of making another mistake she couldn't take back.

So she simply shook her head.

Moments passed before he started to move, and Jen's stomach clenched, her hands dropping towards the steps to brace herself as he put her down.

But he didn't.

Instead he swung her up, and in two strides was up the stairs to the landing.

"Ronon?" She questioned as he carried her across the hallway towards the transporter.

He stepped inside and poked the display with his index finger, then turned and faced the doors as they opened next to the infirmary.

Jen sighed.

He carried her in through the back, and straight back to her darkened room in the infirmary.

"You need rest." He ordered, depositing her gently onto the bed.

She quickly curled onto her side, hiding her red-rimmed and puffy eyes beneath her arms. The blanket covered her and she yanked at it, burying her face beneath it.

The soft swish of the door sounded, followed by silence as the room descended into complete darkness. She lay still, wishing she knew what to do to make it all better. She rubbed her temples, fighting the headache that was sure to be a whopper come morning. She hated crying. Hated the after affects. And hated how stupid it made her feel.

And she sure as hell felt stupid.

A scraping noise sounded and she froze.

Peeking out from between her fingers she felt, more than saw his shape in the corner as the chair creaked beneath his weight.

"Ronon?"

"Go to sleep, Jennifer."

She lay still, wishing she could see him. "You don't have to stay." She whispered into the darkness.

"Will you try to leave again?"

She shrugged, then realized he probably couldn't see her. "Probably."

"I'll stay."

"Stubborn." She whispered, letting her eyes fall closed, taking everything she could out of the fact that he was there.

"And you're not?"

A few moments of silence past and she couldn't help it. "Ronon?"

He snorted. "Jennifer."

"Are you… do…" She sighed into the blankets. "You're not angry with me?"

"Oh, I'm angry with you." He answered softly, his voice covering the night like the blanket she hid beneath. "I'm angry with you for being empty headed enough to think you could go traipsing off to one of Michael's labs and nearly getting yourself killed… twice... without telling me because you had some stupid idea in that smart head of yours that I wouldn't help you because you thought I was angry with you. I'm angry that you thought climbing four levels of open stairwell, when you can barely walk, was a good idea. I'm angry that you made me think you'd fallen down the damn stairs when I saw you lying there. And I'm angry that you think I'd hate you simply because you're a stubborn wench."

Jen blinked into the silence of the room, her hands covering the smile that was very, very hard to contain.

"Wow." She finally managed to say. "That's a lot to be angry about."

He grunted. "I'm an angry man."

"Apparently." She sighed and snuggled into the blanket, something he said popping back into her head. "Ronon?"

He sighed. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry I made you think I fell down the stairs."

"That all?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Jennifer?"

"Yeah."

"Go. To. Sleep."

"Okay."

"And Jennifer?"

"Yes?"

"Never lie to me again."

"I promise." She whispered.

"Good. Now be quiet. I'm trying to sleep over here."

Jen smiled into her hands and let her eyes close, knowing she couldn't hear him, couldn't see him, but he was there.

Did he love her?

She didn't know.

But having him here was enough.

It would have to be.

.

.

.

END