A/N: Well warrior of the shadow asked way back in Ch. 5 what Remy's reaction to hurt Ronon would be...well, my dear warrior, here is your answer. -pj

Disclaimer: See any of the preceding chapters.

Day Ninety-Nine

It was like the first time she'd pulled 9Gs in a jet. Her knees felt wobbly, she could hardly breathe and her stomach was threatening to expel the lunch she'd had four hours earlier. She stood motionless in the hallway outside the infirmary, hands on her knees, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Asura, M7R-227. Lantea, ATL-984," she took a deep breath, wanting to rid the image of Ronon's unconscious body on the infirmary bed from her mind, "Manaria, MF3-235. Ballkan, MH9-546."

She'd only stepped inside the infirmary for a moment. Long enough to see Ronon on the bed, hooked up to a heart monitor and looking so ungodly pale. Long enough to see the bandage around his chest and abdomen bulking under his white scrubs. Long enough to be thoroughly and completely freaked out.

Long enough to be seen.

"Lieutenant?" John stepped out into the hallway and saw Remy standing off to one side, her p90 dangling uselessly from her tac vest, her hands braced on her knees and her eyes closed tightly.

"Yes sir?" She said weakly, not even looking up.

"Are you…reciting planets and their gate addresses?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

Remy smiled as best she could and stood up, shrugging, "some guys do their states and capitols, I do planets and gate addresses."

"He's going to be okay," he said quietly after a moment, "you know that, right?"

Remy inhaled sharply and looked at the ceiling and then closed her eyes against threatening tears. No. She hadn't known that. She hadn't been in the infirmary long enough to find out.

"You're sure?" she asked shakily.

"I'm positive," John assured her quickly, "One of the hybrids got the drop on him and the stab wound was pretty severe but Doc patched him up. A couple days of rest, a few more on light duty and he'll be back to 100 percent."

Remy nodded, as if affirming his statement to herself, "okay," she clasped her hands on top of her head, forcing her breaths to come for evenly, "thank you sir." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod once and turn to go back inside. She wanted to follow, but she wasn't sure she could trust her legs yet. The relief at knowing seemed to be making it harder to move than the agony of not knowing had.

John thought that perhaps there was something more he should say to the girl. He wasn't blind or stupid. He knew Ronon cared about Remy. And he knew, even before he saw the near ghostly pallor of her skin or heard her reciting gate addresses in an attempt to keep from losing it completely, that Remy cared just as much for his best friend.

His eyes fell on Teyla as he started to enter the infirmary and he stopped, biting his lip. He and his team had logged more than their fair share of hours in Infirmary vigils, but he knew from experience that it was differnet, harder, when it was someone you cared for the way Remy cared for Ronon.

He turned back.

"Okay, look. I wish I could tell you that this is going to get easier, but I can't."

Remy turned to look at him, surprised that he was still talking to her, and John continued before he could think better of it.

"Every time you walk through that gate there's a possibility you won't be coming back. The same for Ronon. And there's always the chance one or both of you will land yourselves in the infirmary after a too-close call with the Wraith or the Genii or some weird fatal virus found on a seemingly harmless flower," he gave her a serious look, "but that's what we signed up for. It's going to be hard every time and more than likely it will scare the shit out of you. Every time. But this time, everything is fine. That's all that matters," he paused to make sure she was listening, "you'll drive yourself crazy if it's not."

Remy looked shell-shocked for a moment and her eyes were wide with the Colonel's words. Finally she blinked and looked at the floor, muttering, "Yessir."

Sheppard's face softened slightly and he let his body relax. He turned so he was half facing the door and motioned at her, "C'mon. He wants to see you."

Remy brightened but she frowned skeptically, "he said that?"

Sheppard grinned a knowing, lopsided grin and shrugged, "he didn't have to."

---

Remy perched on one of the doctor's stools, one of the ones with the squeaky wheels, turning back and forth quietly. Mostly because the other chairs made her feel short, which honestly wasn't saying much since she wasn't that tall to begin with, but still…

She was alone now, the rest of Ronon's team had retired for the night at the Doctor's orders, but Remy had firmly refused to move. Sheppard said it was because she hadn't yet developed a healthy fear of 'Doc and her needles'. Remy knew it was because she wouldn't be able to sleep one moment until she knew for absolute certainty that Ronon would be okay. And no amount of test results or doctor's assurances could do that. Only Ronon could do that.

So she sat, alone in the darkened infirmary, with a stool that squeaked, chewing her thumbnail nervously and staring off into space. She'd managed to talk Scooter into taking care of her vest and p90 for her but she still wore her uniform slacks and black t-shirt and some of her brown hair had come loose and was falling into her eyes.

Remy was so lost in thought that the sound of Ronon's voice startled her.

"You're awake," she said, smiling bravely, hoping he didn't notice the way she'd jumped when he said her name.

"So are you," Ronon raised an eyebrow, meaning the comment to point out how late it was and that she should be in bed.

Remy's smile faltered and she looked down at her fingers, playing nervously with the edge of his blanket.

"Kinda' wish I wasn't. Then this would all be a bad dream, huh?"

Ronon frowned, turning to look at her more fully, "I'm fine Remy. Been hurt worse than this plenty of times."

"Jeez, don't say that," she blinked hard, hoping the tears that kept threatening would rush back inside her where they belong, "now I'll never get to sleep."

Ronon watched her carefully and Remy talked through his concerned silence.

"I've been sitting her for hours and hours and all I can think about is all the horrible things that could have happened. This time, last time, next time?" Her words ran together, and jumped from thought to thought as if she wasn't really listening to what she was saying.

"I keep remembering all the mission reports I've read, how many times people end up here, injured. How many of them end up dead. And then there's Col. Sheppard's voice repeating what he said over and over. Torturing me. 'I wish I could say it will get easier', 'every time we go through the gate there's a possibility we won't be coming back'. 'That's what we signed up for'." She finally looked at him, her eyes looking as if her halting ramblings had suddenly led her to some clear and unwanted conclusion. "That's it, isn't Ronon? We signed up for this. I signed up for this. When I kissed you that day in the gym. I signed up for this."

Ronon continued to stare at her, her tired gaze remaining steady on him. He got the feeling that she expected him to answer, but he wasn't quite sure of the question.

"What are you saying, Remy?"

She breathed slowly for several moments. Watching him but not really seeing him. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she said finally and looked down at his hand, that had at some point laid itself over hers. Shook her head slowly, "I don't know."

Ronon squeezed her hand, his gut twisted with apprehension. He wasn't sure what he was apprehensive about, but it worried him nonetheless.

He'd never known his gut to be wrong.

TBC