Bring on the Wraith

Ronon was half way through his meal when he saw Sheppard walk into the mess hall and join the queue, he acknowledged Sheppard's look with a nod.

Ronon shoveled more food into his mouth, watching Sheppard look towards the doors, he could see the waves of tension coming off the man from where he sat at the back of the room and Ronon knew why, McKay.

Ronon had seen it coming for weeks, he had seen looks of concern and confusion being tossed towards McKay first from Lorne, than Zelenka, Davis, Sharma, some of McKay's lab rats, even Teyla and he knew why.

McKay had changed.

Ronon hadn't really cared one way or another to start with. McKay was still his friend, his teammate. Then Ronon had seen a great benefit to the new McKay, he became stronger, more coordinated, more flexible, McKay finally mastered the use of the sticks. Ronon always knew McKay had the ability and he had known that if McKay's life or any of the team lives were in danger, he would have fought like a cornered wounded animal. All the training he had received would suddenly snap into place because he would shut that huge brain off and rely on his instincts, something Ronon had never been able to get him to do in the training rooms.

But for the last few weeks, Ronon had really been able to spar with McKay. He remembered the day McKay walked into the training room for their session, dropped his towel and water bottle, picked up a set of sticks and moved to stand opposite the waiting Ronon, nothing unusual there. But instead of the look of put-on misery McKay usual wore, he had smiled and for the first time ever initiated an attack. Ronon was taken completely by surprise and it had taken several minutes of sparing before he had disarmed McKay and McKay had just continued to improve.

Then he noticed how others were looking at McKay, he started to hear whispers and rumors and in his own way he had found things out. McKay's training sessions with Lorne, Davis and Sharma, his relaxed attitude in the labs. He had also seen Zelenka's looks of dismay and despair whenever he thought no one was looking, he had seen Lorne's frown of concern and he had seen the looks of disbelief on McKay's staff.

Ronon hadn't understood their worry or concern. McKay was fitter, stronger, more agile, more committed to learning fighting tactics, all good things as far as he was concerned. Until Teyla had pointed it out to him. McKay wasn't being McKay, the others were concerned because McKay's personality had changed completely, virtually overnight he had gone from their snarky, put up on teammate to someone who was polite and helpful. Teyla had looked at him sadly when she stated that McKay wasn't a warrior like her, him or Sheppard, but a scientist. Ronon finally understood.

He and Teyla had been born in the shadow of the Wraith. They learnt early to defend themselves, their families, their people, their homeland. They quickly learnt that the stories told to them as young children were not to frighten them or a threat if they were naughty, but true tales of the horrors that awaited them. From a too young age, they mastered the art of the warrior's way.

Shepherd was a warrior also; he had learnt to defend himself, his country, not from an alien threat, but aggression from his own kind. He had seen the death of innocents, of comrades, of the enemy and he had killed to defend what was his, to protect those who could not protect themselves. Since coming to this galaxy Shepherd had embraced all that Ronon and Teyla could teach him in their way of war.

But McKay wasn't a warrior; he hadn't needed to be one. He had had no need to learn to defend himself, to defend others. Until he had come to Atlantis.

Ronon's first impression of McKay hadn't been favorable and the more he had dealt with him the less he liked. To Ronon he had been a weakling, unfit, soft, he talked incessantly of his own concerns and comfort; he relied on others for his safety and protection. In short, he was a coward. Ronon had often been puzzled as to why Sheppard would allow such a man on his team.

However, Ronon had quickly learnt McKay's value, his ability to make dead technology leap to life, to turn the most innocent of substances into weapons. In a few short weeks, Ronon had revised his opinion of McKay, when his back was against the wall, when the lives of others depended on him coaxing life out of damaged technology or to make bobby traps, McKay came through, always. He was a different kind of warrior. Ronon liked the word Sheppard had used to describe McKay, after Sheppard had also explained its meaning, wizard.

But over the years McKay had become a warrior, he was an excellent shot with the P90 or handgun. Although he would still talk incessantly, he became more aware of his surroundings when on off world missions and knew when to talk and when not to. He learnt how to track, to make camp, how to ambush the enemy. McKay learnt to kill more than just the Wraith.

Ronon had forgotten all that. When McKay had suddenly mastered the sticks and close combat techniques, he had been elated. McKay had become the warrior Ronon had tried to teach him to be. Ronon only saw it as a good thing. A more effective fighter, another crusader against the Wraith.

Teyla's sadly spoken words made Ronon realize how wrong he was. McKay had always been a fighter, a warrior. Just a different kind. He fought with different weapons. McKay could blow up an entire Wraith ship, wiping out hundreds of Wraith in one go, destroying the Queen and allowing the captured humans to die quickly, instead of in terror and torment. McKay could make explosives and bombs; he could write and download viruses, crippling advanced technology. McKay might not have been physically able to defeat an armed enemy, but his knowledge and ability to learn fast gave him weapons that Ronon knew he would never understand.

No, Ronon finally understood why everyone was so worried.

Gone was the fearful man. The man that had to be yelled at, bullied, threatened, coerced into coming up with an idea that would kill the enemy, save the innocent and get the team back to Atlantis, no matter how small the chances for success and all the while talking of their impending doom.

Gone was the arrogance, the sarcasm, that made marine and scientist alike flinch, but got the job done, faster, more effectively, never allowing for anything but one hundred percent effort.

In its place was a fit, trained man. Friendly to all, considerate and charming.

Ronon felt a shudder run up his spine. Yes, he finally understood. This new McKay might be committed to fighting, fit, coordinated, easy on the ears, but Ronon knew that for all that they might have gained; they had lost something very important, something very vital.

Somewhere, somehow they had lost the real McKay.

He looked up when Sheppard sat down opposite him. Sheppard leaning in close, casting another look at the mess doors, before facing Ronon.

"You noticed anything different about McKay lately?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ronon replied sadly.

Apologies for the long delay. My computer has been in hospital and unfortunately this story was a casualty of it's "fatal error" illness, so I had to rewrite it. Also many thanks for the wonderful reviews, again apologies for not replying to all.

One more chapter I think, sorry what was that, you want more Teyla? some action? some physical whumping? more angst? No promises but I'll see what I can do. :)