The Turmoil Within
Strength and Weakness: Ronon
It took some time before I heard the Doc settle into sleep. I could see Sheppard already beginning to stir restlessly, the horror already taking hold, and had to put a firm hand on my own anger. Not even Sheppard would be able to simply walk away from this one, any more than I was able to walk away unscathed from my seven years as a Runner, but I knew the man had the strength to allow him to go on. It was what had drawn me to this man, made me believe in someone outside myself, trust someone, for the first time in too many years. Even as he faced the worst nightmare of any human, I saw him nod in agreement with Weir's decision, knowing it meant his death.
When I first met Sheppard, I thought such adherence to principles made him weak. He looked for paths other than strength of arms when I saw such things as straightforward. If someone attacks you, you kill them or remove them before it becomes a problem. You take care of yourself and your friends by whatever means necessary. I watched as he negotiated with beings I would have fought my way through, yet his way actually worked. Sometimes. When it didn't, he was more than willing to use force of arms. He was a true warrior, a survivor, but with the strength to take a chance on others, including me. Weir was a different matter.
Her, I had been distrustful of from the start. She reminded me too much of the leader who had betrayed me on Sateda, willingly using the lives of my men to cover his own escape instead of standing and saving others. I doubted she had the strength to face the tough choices that were a part of life in this galaxy, and often wondered about Sheppard's willingness to defer to her. When she insisted on backing the Doc's plan to try to 'cure' the Wraith, that contempt grew. I knew the plan would fail, that there was no humanity in such creatures. The Doc I could understand. It was in his nature to look for the good, to try and heal all wounds. Weir, though, should have known better. Her actions in the last two days left me in turmoil. I could not have stood there protecting a worthless piece of refuse like Ladon while my friend was being slowly killed. The question would have been how fast I could throw him through the Ring of the Ancestors. I certainly wouldn't have taken the chance on letting him go, trusting him to actually interrogate his traitors and find the location where Kolya had Sheppard. Weir had done both and the outcome... The Genii had actually honored their word and it was Kolya who broke and ran like the coward he is. So who is truly the stronger? The ones who will do anything to survive or the ones who will not betray what they believe in even should it mean certain death? I wasn't sure any more.
"Who's there?"
The demand had me swiftly moving out of the shadows and toward the bed, the edge to my friend's voice making me realize he probably thought I was the Wraith. He was sitting up in bed, sweat beading on his forehead, a faint tremor running through his limbs, breathing fast and ragged. Signs I knew all too well from night time awakenings of my own.
"You're safe, Sheppard. Heal and together we will hunt down the ones who did this."
It was a promise. What Kolya had done was the worst crime that could be committed on most worlds I knew, and an automatic forfeiture of his life. Teyla and I had already made plans to ensure worlds friendly to us knew of this obscenity. Kolya would find it much more difficult to hide this time.
Noting that Sheppard seemed to have no intention of lying down again, I brought the back of the bed up and he immediately slumped back against the support. He was paler then he had been earlier in the day, but had probably still been feeling the energy of battle course through his veins. Without a word, I handed him a cup of water, a stern look ensuring he began to drink instead of trying to object. He seemed to be watching me from the corner of his eye, a wariness there I had not noted since our first meeting. Was he offended by my presence somehow? I had thought it acceptable in his culture for a warrior to tend a wounded comrade. I tilted my head toward the snoring doctor in a silent question. Sheppard instantly shook his head.
"Let him sleep, I'm fine, just..."
"Haunted by what was done to you." A flat statement of fact. Just because we were trained as soldiers to go through what would easily kill others didn't mean we weren't still human. There was no shame in dealing with it.
"Yeah." He flushed and looked away from me for a long moment, studying the darkened room. I saw another shudder run through his wiry form, then the lights brightened a bit, destroying most of the shadows. Finally, he spoke, voice soft. "Do you blame me for not killing the Wraith?"
It hit me, then, what was wrong, why he avoided my gaze. Sheppard feared he had lost my respect by allying himself with a Wraith in order to escape Kolya. I should have known after the way he avoided me when I grabbed my gun back. We had had several angry discussions not long ago about what the Lanteans were trying to do with Michael. Sheppard knew I had questioned my decision to stay in this city several times. That I thought them weak for what they were insisting on doing. Like my team leader, I did not show emotions easily, at least not those of friendship, so I never sought him out after he came for me on Sateda. I didn't tell him that I would follow him into the heart of the Wraith home world if he asked it of me. I waited until his eyes met mine.
"No. A life for a life."
It wasn't exactly true. I would not have hesitated to kill the thing had he not ordered me to let it go, but one of the things I respected most about Sheppard was that he kept his word. Even to a creature. So, I didn't blame him for his actions though I didn't like them.
"Good. I know I probably should have just shot him, but... he honored his part and I sure as hell didn't want to be seen as having less honor then a Wraith."
The wry twist of the lips and glint of humor in his eye showed the John Sheppard I was used to seeing. I knew what he had told me probably wasn't the only reason, but it was good enough for me. I noted then just how tense he was getting, his focus inward as he remembered, exactly what the doc didn't want happening.
"You need to rest." A frown and a roll of the eyes was the only response I got. Then I thought of something that might distract him. "McKay actually shot something."
That got his full attention and I watched as his muscles slowly loosened. "You're kidding me. Was it larger than a Jumper? Had to be for him to actually hit it."
I smiled at that. McKay's lack of anything approaching skill with a weapon was legendary around Atlantis. It never stopped amazing me how clumsy the man could be with a gun, yet easily worked the machines of the Ancestors. Fortunately, those skills had saved all our lives more than once, and Sheppard, Teyla, and I could easily handle most attackers, so I didn't mind the extra work of having him on our team. There was always the possibility McKay could talk an enemy to death.
"He shot a mouse." I shrugged, a little disdainful. Not an attacker and he could hit it.
"He WHAT!" Sheppard's bark of laughter jolted the doc up off his cot, but the man relaxed once he realized his patient was laughing. With a raised eyebrow, he approached the bed, checking Sheppard over, which had my friend rolling his eyes again. "I'm fine, doc. Did you hear what Rodney did? How did it happen, anyway?"
I don't think the man was fully awake yet, because he just looked at me, hair sticking at more unusual angles then normal. "What the bloody hell did Rodney do now?"
"The mouse." My two word answer was met with a slowly dawning grin. Turning back to Sheppard, I answered his question. "It startled him so he shot it. Wasn't much left."
"Wish I could have seen that. I'd have had it stuffed and mounted for him."
The reference didn't make much sense to me, and I was about to ask the doc if Sheppard was all right when I noted the other man's lips twitching. Obviously, it was something I would have to ask about later. My report of our team mate's antics had the desired effect, however, since Sheppard had relaxed enough to be fighting sleep once again. His eyes drifted closed even as Doc and I gently lowered the bed back down, but I noted he didn't touch the lights. Gently, I put one hand on the shoulder of my leader and friend.
"Rest and strength, Sheppard. You are guarded."
It was an old saying among the soldiers of my world, a reassurance given between those of us who trusted each other with our lives. This was the first time in eight long years I had found someone I truly trusted enough to say it to.