He felt like he was trespassing. Though he had been in this room countless times and had slept next to her in this room about as much as he slept in his own quarters, when she wasn't in it, it felt foreign. Not a trace of her was left there. The linens had been stripped from the bed. The closet was empty and gathering dust. The desk was clear. The bookshelves were bare. There were no photos on her walls, no cable knit blanket or Bless your heart throw pillow on the couch, no candles on the nightstand.
He sat on the edge of her bed and cradled his head in his hands, trying to sort out what he was feeling. He knew he had been the one to end it, had convinced himself that it needed to end, but he hadn't anticipated her return to Earth and the finality of it was difficult for him to accept. What if he lived the rest of his life without ever seeing her again?
With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and something caught his attention from across the room. A piece of paper hung from underneath the desk drawer directly in his line of vision. He walked to the desk and managed to dislodge the piece of paper from between the drawer and the roller track without ripping it. He took it into his hands, smoothed it out, and turned it over. It was a photograph. He suddenly felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. The image in front of him made no sense.
It was Emma, but a young Emma and he thought she looked even more beautiful than she normally did. Her hair was shorter, reaching only to her shoulders. She wore a long, flowing white dress that contrasted with her vibrant green surroundings. Her skin was tan and glowing and she was smiling tranquilly, although she looked very tired. Her breasts were large and full, partially visible due to the V-neck cut of the dress. Both of her hands rested gently on her large, protruding pregnant belly.
Momentarily everything fell into place and he understood. But that clarity soon evaporated and he had even more questions than before.
"Jenn, I need to see Emma's medical file," he declared sternly, barreling into the infirmary.
Dr. Keller pulled her gaze from a young captain she was stitching up. "Ronon, I can't do that," she said, sounding shocked that he would even ask, "That's strictly against protocol."
"Then I need you to tell me something," he continued, his heart pumping in his ears.
"I can't," she repeated firmly, "Doctor-patient privilege clearly dictates that I not reveal anything about my patients to others," she told him, staring him down.
"Jenn, don't make me – "
"Don't make you what?" she asked daringly, leaning back and putting her hands on her hips.
He stared back, breathing heavily.
"Hallway. Now," she ordered fiercely.
He spun on his heel and marched out of the infirmary.
"Five minutes," she winced politely to the captain, shedding her latex gloves, "So sorry," she squeaked.
The captain nodded, resting his head back on the table and closing his eyes.
Keller met Ronon in the hallway and immediately started talking. She had a feeling she knew what this concerned. "You know what, Ronon, you have been particularly surly for the past few weeks and I'm getting kind of sick of it," she started. "A lot of us are, actually," she muttered.
"Don't try to change the subject," he growled as he glared intensely down at her.
Keller took a deep breath. "Ronon, even if Emma is no longer on base and no longer technically my patient, I could never reveal to you anything about her medical condition current or otherwise. That would be a serious breach of – "
He interrupted. "I need to know if Emma ever had a child."
"Seriously," she mock laughed, "I cannot say anything to you."
"Did Emma ever have a baby?" he reiterated harshly.
She shook her head. "I can't tell you that, Ronon," she said, her tone softening.
He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. "Fine," he barked, turning his back to her and walking away.
She groaned in frustration at herself and at him as she reentered the infirmary to continue patching up the injured captain.