ON THE MEND
"What do you want now?" Brady asked, removing her headphones and twirling her Kendo sticks as she stepped away from the practice dummy.
Sheppard smiled. "What do you mean 'now'? This is the first time I've seen you all day. I brought you some water."
Brady picked up her own water bottle and showed it to him, shaking it pointedly. She sighed.
"Alright, seriously. Shep, you gotta stop checking on me sixty times a day. I'm fine. I told you I'm fine. Beckett told you I'm fine. Heightmeyer even told you I'm fine, and I swear that woman tries to keep people around as long as possible. What's it gonna take for you to get that I am fine?"
"Rumor has it you haven't really been sleeping since you got out of sick bay."
"Well, I suppose one reason might be because when I got out of sick bay I found out that my quarters had been changed," she said, narrowing her eyes.
"The ventilation in your old room wasn't working properly," Sheppard said.
"And it just so happens that the only room available was between Ronon and Sergeant Dawes? Could it be, Shep, that you are afraid I'm going to have some sort of breakdown?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Sheppard said with a scowl. "It's just...well, Jefferson took some time off and went back home for a couple of weeks. Beach put in for a transfer back to Antarctica. I just want to make sure you're ok."
"Look," she said, twirling her sticks again. "I promise, I'm not going to go Temple of Doom on you guys. True, I've been through a harrowing experience—"
"Harrowing experience?" Sheppard repeated. "Dammit Brady, you were seconds away from having your head bashed in!"
"I know that!" Brady shouted angrily, throwing one of her sticks. "Don't you think I know that? I'm working on dealing, Sheppard. But I can't do that when you, and Teyla, and Lorne, are following me around every second that you're not off-world asking me if I'm ok, or if I need anything. I. Am. Fine. This is a dangerous gig, Shep. Everybody that steps through that gate knows that it might be a one-way trip. It's part of the job."
"Ok," Sheppard said. "Look, I'm sorry if we've been driving you crazy. We worry about our people, that's all. Atlantis works like a well-oiled machine, Brady. All our parts have to be…well oiled… We need you to be…you know. Oiled, or whatever."
"Thank you for your concern," Brady said. "But really..."
"I'll pass word to scale it down a bit," Sheppard said with a small smile.
"Thanks," Brady said again, running a hand through her short hair and making it stick up even more.
As Sheppard left, her polite smile slid from her face and she retrieved her stick. She inserted her headphones into her ears and hit play. Turning back to the practice dummy, she attacked with brutality, letting the heavy bass of Korn's Twisted Transistor dictate her movements. As the song ended, she locked her sticks and hit the dummy in the head, tossing her sticks to the ground as a large section of the polyurethane face flew across the room.
She turned and sat cross-legged on the mat, inhaling deeply to slow her breathing. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to throw Ronon a baleful look.
"I swear to God, if you ask me if I'm ok you'll end up like Bob over there," she said, jerking a thumb toward the now-faceless dummy.
The corner of Ronon's lips lifted ever so slightly. "I'm not going to ask if you're ok," he assured her. "I was just going to see if you wanted a partner that can fight back."
"What? Aren't you scared that in my fragile state sparring might be a bad idea?" she asked sarcastically.
"Everyone else here's just worried about you because they think of you as a younger sister," Ronon said walking toward her.
"And you?" Brady asked, careful to keep her voice even.
Ronon stopped in front of her and looked down. He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.
"My feelings are less familial than everyone else," he said, passing her kendo sticks back to her.
Brady tossed the sticks toward the wall and wheeled the practice dummy off the mat. She held her hands up and crooked her finger at Ronon.
"Bring it on, big guy," she said.
Ronon stripped off his tunic, leaving only his black A-shirt and breeches. They sparred for an hour, each giving and receiving blows. Ronon had Brady pinned to the mat when Sheppard, Weir, and Teyla opened the door. Brady used the distraction to roll Ronon and pin him, pulling back a fist and smiling.
"I win." She lightly tapped her bruised knuckles on his chin before standing and helping him to his feet.
"What in the hell is going on here?" Sheppard demanded as he glared at the duo.
Ronon's lip was split and he had a fairly decent-sized bruise on his cheek. Judging from the redness of the skin on his stomach where his undershirt had rolled up, Brady had gotten in a couple of nice shots there as well. Brady's knuckles were bruised. She was sporting a nice shiner and had a small streak of blood on her lower lip.
"I asked Brady to spar," Ronon said, wiping at his own bleeding lip.
"You what?" Sheppard asked. He looked at his friend as if he was less than intelligent.
"I needed the contact," Brady said. "I hadn't trained with anyone in a couple of weeks and Bob just wasn't cutting it."
Teyla eyed the disfigured practice dummy and winced. "I see."
"Dr. Thatcher, I believe you have work to do," Weir said, eyeing Ronon. "Major Lorne was supposed to give you a panel found on M59-155. Have you received it?"
"Yes ma'am," Brady said.
"And is it translated?" Weir asked, shifting her gaze to Brady.
"No ma'am, not entirely. I—"
"You are on Atlantis to benefit this expedition, Dr. Thatcher. Shrugging your work is not beneficial. Dr. McKay needs that panel. You've been with us long enough to know that all non-military personnel have a strict work ethic. Please return to your office and get back to work."
Brady set her jaw but kept quiet as she brushed between Teyla and Weir.
"She comes down here when she gets stuck on a project," Ronon said when Brady had closed the door.
"I am well aware of that," Weir said. "She informed John earlier that she was tired of everyone walking on eggshells around her. Brady needed to see that she is still part of my team here. If that means going against my nature and being...difficult—"
"Not the word I was gonna use," Ronon said.
"—then so be it," Weir finished, ignoring his snide comment.
"I wanna know what the hell you were thinking," Sheppard said to Ronon. "You two look like you've been in a Jumper crash."
"It isn't that bad," Ronon said.
"Did either of you even attempt to pull your punches? To hold back?"
"I did hold back," Ronon said defensively. "I wouldn't hurt her."
"I know that," Sheppard said.
"I don't like having to explain myself, Sheppard."
"I know that too. Ok, let's say for the sake of argument that you felt the urge to explain your actions," Sheppard said. "What would you say?"
Ronon gave a small smile at Sheppard's diplomatic—if a bit mocking—tactics.
"I would say that I know how a good sparring match helps Brady relax, letting her clear her head and getting her back on track with her work," he said. "I'd also say that she has hardly been sleeping at night and I thought that maybe an intense bout of training would tire her out."
"She still isn't sleeping?" Weir asked.
"I hear her moving around all night," Ronon said. "Whenever she gets still and actually falls asleep for a few minutes, she'll cry out and then get back up again."
"I'll have her talk to Carson," Weir said. "He can give her something."
Ronon lay awake in his bed, idly tapping his fingers on his chest. He had grown accustomed over the past week to hearing Brady rustling about in her quarters. Now that she had been given something to help her sleep, the silence was driving him mad.
He got out of bed and opened his window, hoping that if nothing else the sound of the waves against the borders of the city would distract him.
Ronon lay back down, huffing out a breath and rolling onto his side, punching his pillow and trying to get comfortable. He rolled again to lie on his stomach and let the cool night air blow over his bare back.
He had just started to relax and shift into sleep when he heard a muffled whimper. Instantly alert, he sat up to listen. The sound came again and Ronon recognized it as Brady. She usually woke herself up, but he wasn't sure with the sleep-aid Beckett had given her if she would be able to.
She cried out again, this time louder. If he didn't go and wake her, someone else would eventually hear and she'd be stuck with everyone tailing her again.
Ronon sighed and rolled out of bed. Her cries were becoming more panicked. He grabbed the keycard that Sheppard had supplied him with, in case she had locked the door.
The door to her quarters opened with a soft whoosh and Ronon stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
He knelt on the edge of her bed and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Brady," he said quietly, trying to get her awake.
Sympathy stirred in his gut as her features twisted with fear and pain as she dreamed. She cried out again and the desperation in the sound cut through him. He nudged her shoulder.
"Brady, wake up. Come on," he said.
She began thrashing against his touch. He gripped her upper arm and shook her roughly, pulling her from her nightmare. Disoriented, she fought him, pushing at him with her arms as tears streamed down her face.
"No!"
"Shh. Easy," Ronon soothed. "Brady, you're ok. Hey," he said, pinning her wrists carefully. "You're ok."
She settled as she came fully awake. Her eyes closed and she sighed, defeated. Ronon released her wrists and she brought her hands up to cover her face. She inhaled deeply and ran her hands through her hair.
"I'm sorry," Brady croaked. She cleared her throat and wiped at her tear-dampened cheeks with a sound of disgust.
"Do you...wanna talk about it?" Ronon asked hesitantly as he stood. He was far from the right kind of person to offer therapy, but he could listen.
Brady shook her head. "It's..."
The look in his eye warned her not to say it had been nothing.
"It's not like I've never seen people die," she began with a sigh, shifting so that she was sitting with her back against the headboard of her bed. "Loss is a regular occurrence in the SG program. But I've never...been responsible," she said, looking away from him. "It's never been my fault."
"You think that what happened to Cole was your fault?"
"How could it not be?" she demanded angrily. "We could have slipped back to the gate easily enough, Ronon. I made contact. I let them get the upper hand."
"But you didn't start a fight you couldn't win. Cole did that."
"To try to save me," she whispered. "I put him in that position."
"You weren't holding the knife that killed him," Ronon pointed out.
"I should have just kept my mouth shut."
"And then you'd all four be dead. For a genius you are really dumb sometimes," Ronon said. He brushed her cheek and smiled. "You're a fast thinker. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to save your team. We all make choices, Brady. Cole made his own choice. To him, it was the right one."
Brady's eyelids were heavy, but she was fighting the medicine that Beckett had given her. Unfortunately, the drugs mixed with the low, soothing rumble of Ronon's voice had her longing to close her eyes and sink into oblivion.
Ronon saw that she was fighting it.
"Why don't you lie down and get some sleep? You look exhausted."
"I am," she admitted. "But..."
"Bad dreams?"
She nodded. "I know I have to sleep—it's starting to affect my work. But it's like no matter what I start off dreaming about, it always takes a turn and I end up back in the temple. Sometimes you guys don't make it out. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes my family's there, or somebody from Earth. It's crazy, but it's like I get...stuck. I can hear myself moaning or whatever, but can't wake up right away. It terrifies me, even though I know it is just a dream."
"Tell you what," Ronon said, tapping her leg so that she would move over. He sat on her bed and crossed his long legs at the ankle. "I'll stay here for a little while. If you start having a nightmare, I'll be here to wake you up."
"Oh, so I need sleep but you don't?" Brady teased, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'd be awake whenever you started making noise anyway. Excellent hearing, remember?" he asked. "So actually I'd be saving myself a trip over."
Brady chewed her lip nervously. "Ok," she said after a moment's deliberation. "Um, do you think maybe you…maybe could talk to me or something? It would make it easier for me to fall asleep," she said, blushing.
"Talk about what?"
"I don't care," she said as she scooted down to lay beside him. She rolled onto her side and faced away from him. The light from the digital clock on her bedside table glared in the darkness, but she closed her eyes and settled into her pillow. "Talk about anything. Tell me about Sateda. Tell me what you did today. It doesn't matter."
Ronon sighed and began telling her about his day. Within moments, Brady's breathing had evened. He peered over her shoulder at her face.
She was asleep.
He was tired; it had been a long day. He needed to get back to his quarters and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the morning came.
He glanced at Brady and leaned his head back against her headboard.
He'd stay a few more minutes, just to make sure she was deeply asleep.
Brady opened her eyes and inhaled slowly. 4:17 a.m. She'd been asleep for over five consecutive hours.
…First time in a week.
She rolled beneath the blankets—or tried to—but Ronon's leg was draped over hers. Brady lifted her head and looked back over her shoulder, unable to resist smiling at the sight of the large warrior snoozing against her headboard.
She reached back and nudged him. "Ronon?"
In sleep, his eyebrows furrowed. He shifted, sliding lower on the bed and rolling so that his arm lay across Brady's neck and shoulders.
Brady grunted as his weight crushed her to the mattress. She chuckled, shoving his arm down so that it wasn't covering her mouth.
He stirred, but still didn't wake.
"So much for excellent hearing," she whispered, rolling her eyes with a sigh.
She scooted and rolled onto her stomach, settling in and getting as comfortable as she could beneath his body. She sighed again and, smiling, fell back to sleep.
Ronon burrowed toward the supply of warmth that stretched down his body. His eyes opened and he blinked, frowning as he realized that Brady was the source of that delicious warmth. He leaned away, attempting to put some distance between their bodies.
It had been a long time since he had awakened next to a woman.
Brady grunted and scooted back fully against him, her mouth going slack as she settled back into sleep.
Ronon hated to wake her—he had been trying to get her to go to sleep, after all—but he couldn't very well stay in such a compromising position all morning.
He bent his knee, trying to feel the edge of the bed with his foot. Satisfied that he could make the distance with little disturbance to Brady, he worked his other leg out from under hers and slid his lower body to the edge of the bed. He tucked his tongue between his teeth as he tried to gently slide his arm from beneath Brady's head.
Brady sighed and rolled toward him, laying her hand on the exposed skin between his shirt and the waistband of his breeches. Her touch on his bare skin had him panicking. He cleared his throat and nudged her shoulder.
"Brady?"
Brady opened her eyes and yawned. She blinked sleepily and peered up at him in confusion.
"You awake?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice.
Brady nodded slowly, inhaling and running a hand through her short hair. "What time is it?" she mumbled, trying to see the clock.
Ronon looked over her head. "Three minutes 'til 8."
Brady grunted. "I hate when I wake up before the alarm goes off," she said, burrowing her face against his side.
"It's only three minutes," he said.
"That just makes it worse. Stop talking."
"You can't possibly go back to sleep in three—"
"Shh!"
Ronon chuckled and scooted away from her, sitting up. "Come on, Brady," he said, poking her in the ribs.
She squealed and shot him a death glare.
He stood, stretching his arms over his head. He rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side, loosening the muscles in his neck.
"C'mon," he said, nudging the bed with his knee. His smile widened as Brady groaned and rolled, sprawling onto her back.
"Weren't you one of the ones harassing me and wanting me to get some sleep?" she growled.
"Yeah, but it's morning. Night is for sleeping. Day is for…" He tilted his head and shrugged as Brady's alarm went off with a series of annoying beeps. "Working. Come on," he said again, holding his hand down to her.
Brady scrubbed a hand over her face and scoffed out a laugh. With an exaggerated groan, she grabbed Ronon's hand and allowed herself to be hauled from her nice warm bed.
