A/N: I didn't respond to any reviews this time around (although I thank each and every one of you that left one), mostly because they all would have said this: Sorry sorry sorry!!! First off, I apologize for killing Remy, I honestly didn't want to do it, of all my OCs, she's my favorite. But I based this story on several things, one of them being what I call 'The Bonanza Effect' which I created because of the way all the women any of the Cartrights (from a 60s show named 'Bonanza' which I have a slight obsession with despite the fact that I was born nearly 20 years after it went off the air) got involved with mysteriously ended up dead and/or kidnapped, so this ending was somewhat inevitable. And as much as it hurts me to see my poor Ronon in pain...it makes for a an emotionally charged chapter, both for reading and writing. And aside from just being an angst junkie, I'm in love with emotional reviews. In the end, I hope you enjoyed this fic in spite of everthing and I tried to make it all a little more bearable in the end. -pj

Disclaimer: Don't belong to me.

Day One-Twenty-Seven

Ronon stood on the pier, their pier, watching the sun set slowly in the sky. Soon the moons would be out. Two moons.

Remy had named them 'Ben' and 'Jerry'.

He felt John come up beside him but he didn't speak, and Ronon made no move to acknowledge his presence.

He had one arm wrapped in gauze and bandages, his thumb hooked into his belt to help support his bruised torso. John caught sight of him lifting a bottle to his lips with the other, and although he didn't recognize it, he didn't ask what it was or where he'd gotten it.

It didn't matter where and he knew what it was.

A way to forget.

Or at the very least, remember less.

John waited until the sun had completely set, turning the sky aflame with red before speaking. He took a deep breath and bit his lip before saying in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry."

Ronon didn't blink. Didn't move. John had to wait several more moments for him to respond.

"She's going back to Earth?" He asked finally.

Sheppard nodded. "Managed to finagle a pretty decent Military Funeral out of the IOA. They weren't happy about it but..." he stuck his hand in his pockets and shrugged.

"Tell 'em to go to Hell," Ronon said roughly.

John's gaze slid over to his companion. "I did."

A smirk almost crossed Ronon's face, but withered and died before touching his lips. He raised the bottle again and drank long and slow.

"I'm going," he said, after several minutes of silence.

John nodded, looking back out at the horizon as the last red splashes of light were replaced with inky darkness and the moons glowed overhead.

"We all are."

---

Ronon's entire body tensed when he entered Remy's room and realized he wasn't alone. But he relaxed immediately when Scooter emerged from the bedroom, carrying a small box that was almost completely full.

Scooter glanced at him and nodded a greeting and Ronon couldn't help but notice the difference between the man standing before him, who looked tired and worn, and the bright-eyed, eager young man he'd met in the gate room over four months ago.

Had it really only been four months?

Scooter dropped the box on a chair and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and then dragged it across his face.

"Hey Ronon," he said, tiredly.

Ronon nodded and then gestured vaguely at the room, "need help?"

Scooter reached back to massage the muscles of his neck and shook his head, "Naw, I pretty much got it. Collected most of her 'personal effects' so I can send them home."

Ronon frowned slightly, "to who?"

He glanced at the Satedan and for a moment he seemed confused and then a sad smile slid across his lips, "She hasn't got any family, per se, back there, but…there's lots of folks that..." he shrugged, looking down at the box, his eyes blank, "she liked to think she didn't have anybody that cared about her, spent her whole life running from those that did…afraid of losing 'em. But she…I guess she just had a way of touching people, you know? Bonding them to her for life," he shook his head, "she didn't even know it."

Ronon didn't respond, for lack of something to say or the ability to say it, he wasn't sure. If Scooter noticed his silence he didn't show it. His eyes were roaming the box aimlessly when they suddenly seemed to land on something of interest. He reached down inside and after a moment pulled out a long cord with a silver object hanging from the middle.

A wistful smile crossed Scooter's face and he turned it over a few times in his hand before crossing the room and holding it up for Ronon to see.

Ronon took it carefully and realized it was a necklace. The ends of the leather cord were capped off with clasps and the silver object that dangled from it was a small fighter jet charm.

"It was her favorite," Scooter said quietly as Ronon examined the small trinket, "most stuff Remy could take or leave but this…she loved this stupid thing," Ronon pretended not to notice when the young man's voice cracked and he reached up to swipe at his eyes, "anyway, she'd probably want you to have it."

Ronon looked up and met his gaze for the first time. He didn't look away, unable to shake the feeling that Scooter was looking for something as they locked eyes for several moments. He seemed to find it, though, and nodded quickly to himself before turning to retrieve the box. He brushed past Ronon to get to the door but stopped at the last moment before stepping through.

"You made her happy, you know."

Ronon turned, but Scooter was still facing away from him, talking to the door.

"She deserved that much," he continued haltingly, his voice carrying more strength than Ronon guessed he actually possessed at that moment, "if nothing else I can be glad she came here because she met you. And you made her happy."

He took a deep breath and stepped through the door, leaving Ronon alone.

He stood silent and unmoving for several minutes. His eyes roaming the room with scrutiny.

Her pink fuzzy slippers were gone, as was her Kid Rock poster and her Complete Series collection of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air DVDs. Her lucky red scrunchi was gone from the top of the dresser as well as the one family picture he knew her to own that kept a faithful vigil on her bedside table next to a well-worn copy of Jane Eyre.

Everything that made this space, identical to thousands of others on Atlantis, unique was gone. Everything that made it Remy's was gone. Just like her.

So why was it he could still smell her? Why did he feel like he should be looking around the room for her when he knew she wasn't there?

Ronon sat on the edge of her bed and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he was staring at the floor under his boots.

He felt the bed shift when she sat down beside him and the back of his neck tingled, the way it always did, when she reached up to play with the curls there.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What are you sorry for?" she asked in that voice of hers that always sounded like she was about to laugh. She usually was.

He watched her beloved combat boots sidle up next to his, the cuffs of her favorite jeans dragging across the floor.

"They're sending you back to Earth."

"Oh. Yeah. That," he could hear the rueful smile in her voice, "I guess there's no way you could get them to jettison my body into space Spock-style, huh?"

A small smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. He understood the reference from the six informative weeks they'd spent watching Star Trek movies at Movie Night, per McKay's request.

She was silent for a while and the heat of her gaze finally made him turn and he looked at her. Her hair was in that perpetual, messy brown ponytail, her brown eyes sparkling like always.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the way it shook and made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

"You left me," he accused softly.

Her eyes filled with tears almost instantly and her lips trembled when she whispered, "never." Then she dropped her gaze quickly to the floor and drummed her black fingernails on her knee. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she looked back up at him, "I didn't want to."

Ronon clenched his teeth and took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through flared nostrils. He nodded. He knew that.

When he looked at her again there were silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Don't cry. Smile for me." He lifted his uninjured hand and slowly ran his thumb across her bottom lip. He wanted to tell her the thought of her smile had been the only thing to get him through many dark moments over the last few months. Wanted to say the memory of her laugh would probably be the only thought capable of allowing sleep to come in the approaching days. But in the end, he didn't. And he decided he didn't really need to, she probably already knew.

She usually did.

Remy did smile for him, kissing his thumb playfully before her eyes fell to his lips and it faded. She held her breath and leaned forward slowly and Ronon closed his eyes, feeling the heat of her touch on his lips.

"Goodbye Ronon," he felt her whisper in his ear. He opened his eyes and the sight of a sincere smile on her face simultaneously thrilled and tortured him.

He watched as she glanced up and carefully touched the wild curls of his short hair.

"Promise me something, okay?"

He nodded and she let her hand fall to her lap, meeting his eyes once more.

"Don't let another ten years go by before you let yourself fall in love again."

He swallowed hard and inhaled sharply, but nodded his agreement all the same.

He looked down at his hands, still holding tightly to the necklace. With a deep breath, he lifted it and carefully slipped it over his head.

The next time he closed his eyes and opened them again, she was gone.

And he knew the next time a nightmare woke him in the middle of the night, she wouldn't be there to hold him until the terrifying images faded.

The next time he went looking for his blaster before a mission, she wouldn't be there to try and steal it.

He wrapped his hand around the small silver charm that now sat close to his heart.

But this time, it was a little easier to bear.

END