Chapter 6

"They will feel pain when we return," Ronon growls. "I will punish them all for such things."

Her head rolls slowly. "Don't bother. They just needed to blow off steam. Besides, nothing they said was false…well, except for the voice thing."

"Everything they said of you is untrue, Alessa. I see you. I know what is truth. They cannot comprehend what is right before their eyes." He grips her chin and turns her head toward him; a bit roughly he's afraid because she whimpers. "Hear me, woman."

Her eyes snap open; still glossy and unfocused, but open. "Did you just call me 'woman'?"

"Yes."

She smiles weakly and rolls her eyes. "Please…don't start talking in Ebonics…it's the one language I never could pick up. Harder than pig-latin." She chuckles only to wince in pain a moment later.

He touches her smooth, damp cheek with the back of his hand. She's on fire. The wounds must be infected. The stab wound on her left side went in at an angle and though it did not penetrate through her back, there has been much blood loss, likely damage to internal organs and the Wraith weapon was surely unclean.

The other wound was of his making. He hates himself for having marred her velvety flesh, but there had been no choice. The tracker lodged in her shoulder would have led the Wraith straight to them. As it had already brought them to the planet to find her.

It was different than the one put in his back seven years ago: smaller, undetectable by Atlantian machines. He only found it because the device could elicit a shock straight into the prey's body, at which point, it lit up under the skin like a strike of lightning.

The moment the Wraith arrived at the ruins, they activated the device and Alessa collapsed in mid-run for the gate, her body arching awkwardly, painfully. It was how the Wraith had known she was the one they wanted.

Sheppard, Teyla and McKay covered them as Ronon picked up Alessa and ran for the forest. They did not get very far before another jolt went through her body and he nearly lost his hold on her. The worst part…he could tell she was conscious and aware of all the pain being inflicted on her…but she could not scream.

They settled near a large tree and Ronon questioned about the pain. She could only nod slightly or blink, so he kept his questions to yes or no answers. It took several minutes but she managed to indicate the pain started in her back. Ronon didn't have time to struggle her out of her jacket and shirt so he turned her around and slit them down the center with one of his blades.

He could see flashes of white hair within the trees, searching for them. They didn't have much time, but there were no tell-tale signs of anything under her translucent skin. Ronon couldn't help the thrill that passed through him at seeing her so uncovered. He carefully smoothed his rough palm over her bared flesh, trying to locate the tracker. He did his best to ignore the amazing texture of her skin or the scent that wafted into him and set his body afire.

And then it happened. Blue light under the tissue at her right shoulder. Her body arched and the breath left her in a heavy gasp as she stiffened with agony. Ronon gripped her face, forcing her to see him. "I found it. I have to cut it out. You understand?"

She had no control over her body at that point. No nods or blinking; only her eyes on his could tell him anything. After only a few weeks of knowing her, however, Ronon was sure she was giving him her consent. He turned her around and stared at his blade hovering over her tender body. His hand shook, but he tightened his grip and willed it into action.

He could not let them have her.

Never.

Ronon cut deep but not long; half a finger length. There was no sound from her. He knew she wanted to cry out, but she had no control. Using the tip of his knife, he dug the tracker out, cutting it free from the bloody tissue. The moment the Wraith creation was free of her, the light on it went out.

And then she screamed.

And the Wraith found them.

They were ambushed in the trees. Three Wraith came from different directions. Not the warriors with stunners and no faces, the other ones…the hunters. Ronon could hear Sheppard yelling in his ear piece that they were heading for the gate; but he could not take the moment to respond and request back up. He fired at the first two Wraith, hitting one in the face and taking it down immediately.

Ronon unsheathed his sword after laying an unconscious Alessa on the ground at his feet. The Wraith came at him from two sides. He decapitated one only to swing around and catch the other holding some kind of staff. The Wraith hissed and spat as they fought. They were equally matched, unfortunately. This Wraith was strong in mind and skill. Ronon wondered if it had been the same Wraith Alessa had wounded previously. That would explain the drive to retrieve her.

In the end, however, Ronon had the advantage of endurance as well as strength. The Wraith lunged and Ronon dodged as he ran his sword through the creature's gut.

"Huh…" he heard behind him, only to turn and see Alessa equally impaled by the Wraith's staff. She had obviously just risen to her feet, using the tree trunk as leverage, before being stabbed. As the Wraith fell away from Ronon's sword, his grip on the staff remained strong and he pulled it out of Alessa.

She touched the wound then lifted her hands to look at them; they were sticky with blood. She looked to Ronon with the oddest expression. "This really sucks," she muttered as she dropped to her knees. Ronon caught her before she could fall any further.

3 WEEKS AGO
Chuck gave Ronon the location of Dr. D'Angelos' quarters and he went directly there. He could hear movement on the other side of the door so he knocked. It took a few moments before the door opened.

Dr. D'Angelos stood before him — without her glasses — her eyes at his chest slowly rose to meet his; making his breath catch before she spun away to continue her task. "Specialist Dex. I assume Dr. Weir sent you to help get me out of here as soon as possible."

"You assume incorrectly," he said. Ronon crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to keep the door from closing. "Dr. Weir did not accept your...resignation." Seeing the mess in the room and the frantic pace with which Dr. D'Angelos packed, Ronon finally understood the word. She wished to leave Atlantis…be removed from her position here.

"What?" She stopped moving and stared at the floor. "She can't do that."

Ronon shrugged. "She is the leader. She can do as she pleases." That got him a quick glance over a shoulder. "She wishes you to stay," he added with sincerity.

Her brows cinched together. "Why?"

"She believes you are invaluable."

Dr. D'Angelos dropped heavily onto the edge of her bed, her hands full of clothing. "She said that?" Ronon grunted an affirmative. She looked at him again; this time longer. "So…what are you doing here?"

"I'm your bodyguard."

Her tired eyes dropped from his and she sighed wearily. "I don't need a bodyguard…everyone else does…to keep them safe from me."

"You are not the problem, Dr. D'Angelos."

"You obviously haven't been paying much attention, Specialist Dex."

"I see more than others, I believe." Her eyes caught his again and that wonder he saw previously returned; as did the clench in his throat. He had never seen such luminous dark eyes with everything exposed. He had no doubt that this woman could never lie. The truth of her would always be in her eyes.

She seemed ready to say something but closed her mouth tight, those thick lips pressing together as if to keep her tongue inside. Ronon desperately wanted to press his lips to hers and persuade that tongue free from restraint. He wanted to push her back onto the bed and roam his hands over her body, eliciting gasps of pleasure to replace the sadness in her voice and eyes.

If it had been any other Earth female, he would not have hesitated in making his intentions clear. But Ronon felt there was something about Dr. D'Angelos that would not accept such actions. At times she reminded him of a frightened child in need of protection.

And that was exactly the course he had been assigned to take.

Ronon took the break in conversation to come into her room. He pulled the chair away from the desk and sat in it directly in front of her so that they would be eye-level. If she was offended by his boldness, she did not make a sign. "Dr. D'Angelos. I understand you are a vital member of the Atlantians. You're work is very important to finding a ZPM—"

"I'm sure someone else—"

"Dr. Weir does not believe anyone else will." He leaned his elbows on his knees, in effect moving closer to her. "Are you the type of person to leave a mission unfinished?" Her eyes darted to lock with his again and once again she looked as if she might speak, but held back. He took that to be the answer he wanted. "So, you are now under my protection."

Her brows creased and eyes narrowed. "Umm…" she cleared her throat. "W..what does that entail…exactly?"

Ronon stood up and replaced the chair in its proper location. "Wherever you venture, I will follow."

"Umm…you mean…off-world…right?"

He turned back to her and smiled. "I believe my presence may be required more often."

"But you have duties—"

He waved a hand. "AT-1 is not scheduled for off-world trips until Teyla is fully healed."

"How…how is she doing?"

"From Col. Sheppard's description, she's… 'oozing from both ends'…whatever that means. Dr. Beckett believes she is contagious and is not permitted visitors other than medical staff. I have not seen her."

She grimaced. "Stomach flu really sucks." She stood up then and dropped the clothes in her hands onto the bed in a heap. "Guess I'll need to clean up in here." She glanced at him. "I won't be needing any protection tonight, Specialist Dex," she said with a small grin.

"Okay. Then I will see you tomorrow, first thing. Do not leave your quarters without me." He palmed the crystals and the door slid open. "One more thing, Dr. D'Angelos."

"Yes?"

"My name is Ronon. I respond well to it." He grinned again and she blushed but smiled in return.

"Right…" When he didn't leave right away, she looked at him quizzically. "Oh…ahhh…" she offered her hand earnestly. "Alessa. I mean…you can call me…Alessa."

Ronon smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I'm here to serve…Alessa." She blushed again but did not pull her hand away as he feared she might. It smelled of fruit mixed with something spicy. He wished he had more time to enjoy the scent. Ronon released her hand then left her to the clean up her belongings.