Ronon wiped his arm across his forehead, the steady rhythm of his feet on the surface of the pier lulling him into a sense of contentment. It was the first time in days he'd actually felt himself again. The first time since they'd returned that he'd actually considered going to see her.

Finding her.

Purposely seeking her out.

As he curved round the last tower, the ocean spray kicked up a blasting mist as the storm pushed the waves against the sides of the pier. He stopped at the edge and stared out across the churning sea. With his hands on his hips he inhaled and exhaled sharply, catching his breath, letting his heartbeat slow.

He felt as grey and volatile as the sky. It was almost dark now, the encroaching blackness rivaling his state of mind. The storm had been passing across the city for nearly two days, in various states of presence, some hours only rain, other times, like now, dry, but loud and windy. It fit so well with his emotional state, he didn't bother preventing his mood from spiraling downward.

Especially since he had nothing to do.

Gate travel was out – he was on downtime for another forty-eight hours barring any emergencies.

Sparring was out. Especially when he had half-a-mind to rip something apart for no particular reason. At least no reason he wanted to think about. And no one wanted to take him up on his offer – except Teyla – who'd quickly shown him the error of his ways.

She'd kicked his ass, then chastised him for being so outwardly distracted.

He couldn't really have argued if he'd even wanted to.

Because she was right.

He was distracted.

Horribly so.

Sheppard had given up trying to convince him to open up about what happened inside the Ari. And from the Colonel's miffed reaction, Ronon figured Jennifer was being just as tight lipped.

Ronon sighed.

He hadn't spoken to her since the planet. Neither one of them had been conscious for the ride back in the jumper and the subsequent stay in the infirmary. He'd been released the next morning and hadn't looked back. He knew from eavesdropping that she'd been required to stay an extra day for observation. Her body showed no physical injuries, but her recovery was slower. He'd also heard she'd been ordered to take a few days off and rest – no work, no excitement, no strenuous activity.

He'd told himself he was just giving her time to heal. But when he'd given up fighting himself for a few hours of fitful sleep –the niggling voice in the back of his mind called him a coward.

No matter how hard he tried, he could find no argument with the simple statement.

Not a single one.

Three days of sitting on it, tossing and turning on it, and now running from it, hadn't made it any less of a puzzle, or any less of an ache that seemed to be centered somewhere in the middle of his chest.

The storm rumbled across the skies, splitting the clouds with a long stripe of lightning, the sparking trail reminding him of the light from the Ari.

He inhaled sharply, and shook his head, his eyes on the heavens as cursed both the gods and demons who would send him such a blatant sign.

"Fine." He scowled at the sky.

With a snort of defeat he turned, running back towards the lights of the main tower, pursued by the memory of someone else's dreams.


Ronon showered and changed, debated waiting until the hour was not so late, then arguing that it wouldn't matter regardless. With the storm clouds crashing so loudly around them, she would most definitely not be sleeping.

Eventually he found himself wandering the hallways and corridors of the city, losing track of time before he cursed such weakness.

They needed to talk.

He needed to talk.

He wanted… no… needed to know.

"I love you, Ronon Dex. I always will."

Her words - but were they only in dreams?

He turned sharply left, making a beeline for the nearest transporter. Jabbing his index finger at the controls, he exited in the crew quarters, striding directly towards the dead end hallway and her living space. Without giving himself time to change his mind, he swiped his hand down over the controls. He didn't have long to wait before the door slid open.

Standing barefoot in a pair of blue jeans and an oversized dark green sweatshirt, Jennifer blinked up at him – a little shocked, a bit confused, and something else – an expression he couldn't quite place. Her hair was twisted up onto the top of her head and secured with a large clip. Small tendrils fell messily down around her face, as though she'd been too distracted to finish pinning it all up. In the dim lighting of the hallway and the quiet of her room she seemed… younger… more vulnerable. He could hear a faint trace of music – something soft and slow – playing beneath the growl of the storm as another long roll of thunder rumbled above the city.

They stood in silence staring at each other across the threshold of her open doorway before he remembered he'd come to see her – not the other way around. He gave his head a slight shake then cleared his throat. "You busy?"

"No?" She shook her head, and gave him a jerky once over while she rubbed her palms against the outside of her thighs. "I… um… is um… there something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Thought maybe we could… talk."

"Talk." She stared at him wide eyed, her bottom lip trapped firmly between her teeth.

He was about to turn, taking her shocked silence as a no, when she jerked suddenly and took two abrupt steps back. "I'm sorry… I'm… did…" She cleared her throat then inhaled slowly. "Did you want to um… come in?"

He straightened and stepped into her room, noting a discarded book and blanket lying on the floor beside one of her twin chairs in the corner. The only source of light was the small lamp seated on the table between the chairs, its yellow glow lengthening the shadows across the rest of her space. He saw the open computer sitting next to the lamp, soft music playing through the speakers.

She rushed over to the table and gathered up her book and blanket, turning towards him with the bundle of material tightly griped in front of her. "I'm sorry… Did… do you want to sit?" She pointed to the chair she'd just vacated and backed up towards the second one.

He almost said no, but she was acting so damn nervous he figured sitting might take some of the edge off. He didn't like that she was nervous. Not around him. But then he supposed he had no call to question her reaction. Not… yet.

He lowered himself slowly, angled his legs outward, crossing his feet at the ankles, then decided he'd look a little too relaxed that way and opted for a straighter position.

She hovered next to him before sitting abruptly, practically dropping into the empty chair, the blanket and book still bundled against her chest. An awkward quiet fell between them, but it was quickly dissipated by the sounds of the storm.

"You feeling okay?" He finally thought to ask.

She blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it, changing her mind. She pursed her lips, ran her hand across her forehead and shrugged. "No."

"No." He angled his head and shoulders completely around so he was facing her directly. "You're not okay?" He frowned. He'd been expecting the usual platitude – the standard I'm fine answer everyone always gave when asked that question. He'd definitely not expected her to answer with a negative.

She looked down at the paperback she was clutching, and quickly flipped it onto the desk. The small light between them flickered then surged with a massive cracking boom of thunder and she hopped up with a skittish squeak.

He eyed her warily as she took several hurried steps across the room then seemed to change her mind, stopping to turn, then letting out an exasperated sigh. He stood and moved towards her as she changed her mind again, spinning back around and slamming into his front. Letting out a yip she jumped back and cursed, clutching the blanket against her front like a shield.

Ronon reached for her, a hiss escaping though his teeth to feel her hands – they were absolutely freezing. He cursed and dropped her fingers, turning towards the door. "I'm going to get Carson."

"No!" She grabbed his forearm and he was shocked at how cold her palm was against his skin. "I'm fine… I-"

"Jennifer." He growled. "You're not fine. You're… like ice."

She dropped her fingers away with a muttered apology and stepped back with a shudder. "I'm fine."

He shook his head and stepped forward. "Jennifer…"

She sidestepped his reach and turned away, her arms strangling the grey blanket. "I'm just… I just…" Her shoulders slumped and her voice dropped to a weary whisper. "Tired. I get cold… when I'm overtired."

Thunder rolled and she scrunched her eyes closed and hunched her shoulders. As it rumbled off and faded she dropped her chin to her chest and pinched the bridge of her nose, burying her face in the blanket.

"When's the last time you slept?"

She raised her face and rubbed her fingers across her right eye. "Who knows."

Ronon hesitated, his quest for information forgotten in light of her over-exhausted skittishness. He should go… but…

The music track on the computer faded off leaving a brief moment of silence filled only with low howl of the wind outside the heavy tower walls. By the time the next song began he'd decided.

"Do you still trust me?" He asked.

She blinked, her brow furrowed as she blushed furiously. "What's that supposed to mean?!" She sputtered, indignantly. "Of course I… I… wait…" She tilted her head and eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

He turned towards the wall and hooked his fingers around her shoes. Straightening, he held them up.

She took them from his outstretched hand and pulled them in against her chest. "What?" She frowned.

"Put them on."

She blinked, but made no movement.

"Please."

She stared, and for a minute he wasn't sure she would comply. But she gave a tiny shake to her head and tossed her crumpled blanket onto the chair behind her before lifting first one foot, then the other, to slip the shoes onto her bare feet.

"Come on." He reached for her hand, shocked in part that she gave it willingly, and in part with the cold temperature of her delicate fingers. Turning towards the access panel he opened the door and led her into the hallway.

She let out a soft sigh and fell into step beside him.

She didn't ask.

So he didn't offer.