It had taken all Ronon's willpower not to shake the answers out of her in the infirmary.
And then some.
He'd made her promise to come to him. To help without question. Only now the questions plaguing him were digging deeper into his abdomen and he was having a very, very difficult time processing the request.
Why did she feel the need to whisper in an empty infirmary?
Why did she react with such disgust and horror when he touched her? The way she cowered and spun away from his hand gave him the instant picture that she'd expected to be harmed. Yet she'd known he was right there – would he not have protected her?
And the look on her face when she'd turned was excruciating – because for a brief flash of time, he'd thought she'd been afraid of him.
There was one thing he'd embraced within his heart over the past few months – Jennifer wasn't afraid of him. He could growl and push and fight her to the point of scaring away everyone in the damn infirmary, and she treated him like an obstinate child. He could break her into pieces and she talked back to him as though he was no taller than her knee.
And until two hours ago, he'd never, ever expected to see that kind of raw fear in her eyes – directed at him.
It was something he would not see again.
If he had anything to do or say about it.
It was that which made him want the answers with an even greater fury.
And it was exactly that which had him currently trailing her down the extended hallway out along the far end of one of the massive city piers.
He'd felt the tremble in her fingers when she'd cleaned the back of his arm. Could see the distracted wariness in her eyes as she seemed to be constantly looking for someone in an empty room. But it was the way she'd said please that cut him deeply.
She'd stayed in the infirmary, in her office, for an hour doing paperwork before leaving for a late night snack in the nearly empty mess-hall. She didn't sit with anyone, choosing instead a small table in the back corner with her back to the wall, where she ate a muffin and stared expectantly at the surrounding tables, as though she expected the chairs to start walking around.
After returning to the infirmary for a brief chat with the head nurse, she'd received a call from one of the teams scouting some of the undiscovered rooms at the end of the west pier. Grabbing a small first-aid bag she'd explained her destination to the nurse, and headed for the nearest transporter.
As he watched, and followed, his mind cleared itself of scenarios and what-ifs and he concentrated on doing what's she'd asked… observe.
And protect.
His own addition to her request.
She would not know he was there – he knew this for a fact. Yet still she stopped along the empty hallways, looking around her as though expecting to see someone in the shadows. Her eyes moved around corners first, her shoulders tensing as though something were about to jump out at her. Her reaction to the nothingness was making him incredibly sensitive, his senses tuned into his surroundings with such clarity he could follow her with his eyes closed, his path based solely on the faint sound of her soft soled shoes on the clear floor, and the catch in her breath every time she passed a doorway or a hallway.
When she reached the end of the pier, she quickly found the two Marines, and aided the young Lieutenant who'd stabbed his palm on something pronged and double edged while leaning on a half covered Ancient console. Ronon heard her praising the Captain for having the good sense not to try and part the soldier from the piece of metal under the repercussion of losing use of his fingers. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes but she was able to pull the Lieutenant free, bandage his hand, and have the Captain escort him to the infirmary to have the entire hook removed and his hand sutured.
As soon as they left, she radioed Christine to warn them the Lieutenant was on his way, what the situation was, and left details for removing the sharp piece of metal. She then bent and began to quickly pack up her supplies.
Once her bag was packed, she stood.
And that was when he felt it.
A… presence.
Someone coming.
No, someone here.
Yet no one had come past him.
His eyes betrayed nothing but Jennifer, who was spinning in a circle as she too felt the additional force. He could see it in her face – the return of the fear.
And then he heard it.
A distant rumble.
Low and vibrating.
She was standing near the intersection of a hallway – a crossroads – and took a tentative step into the opening of the intersecting corridors.
The rumble grew.
Ronon's tension expanded and coiled.
Something was coming.
Something big.
The sound roared, shaking the floor like a thousand hooves.
When she cried out and spun away, her body moving with panicked speed, he leapt forward. Too far away to reach her. Too far away to catch her as a wall of water crashed along the tunnel it made of the corridor, and swept her beneath its angry froth of white.