Word
Count: 1,736
Rating:
PG
Category:
Angst.
Story Status:
Complete.
Spoilers:
Broken Ties, Season 5.
Summary:
Missing scene for Broken Ties, Season 5. Rodney remembers, and worries
about his teammate...
Thanks:
Thank you to Grey Lupous (greyias)
for the beta-reading and to alyjude for the wonderful cover art.
Broken Memories
By Leesa Perrie
Artwork by alyjude. See more of her artwork here.
Enzyme withdrawal was bad, worse it would seem when associated with the
so-called ‘gift of life’ and not with
Ford’s refined
drug, though that had been bad enough. Of course, Ronon had
far
more of it running through his system than Rodney had ever had, which
was a scary thought. He knew, though, that the physical pain
was
not the worst of this. No, the pain of having been broken by
a
Wraith, of having betrayed his friends - that would be worse for
someone as proud and strong as Ronon.
That, and the loss of a good friend. Someone who had betrayed
him
for the ‘gift’ and yet, at the end, had stayed
behind so
that they could go free, and had taken out the Wraith lab in a final
act of defiance.
He didn’t know what it took to make someone do that.
Only he did, really, if he let himself think about it, but he
didn’t let himself think about it, fearing any one of his
team,
his friends, could go out like that one day. Knowing that in
another timeline two of them had.
He didn’t want to be here, watching from the observation
room,
watching as Ronon thrashed and screamed and raged…and worse,
begged for death.
Had he done that? Memories that were not as fuzzy as
he’d like told him that he had.
In a way, he was glad that his team had not been there to see him go
through withdrawal. Though it would have
been…comforting,
perhaps, if they had been there. At least towards the end.
Of course, then there wouldn’t have been any need for him to
take
the overdose in the first place, if his team had been there, safe on
Atlantis and not lost on a hiveship somewhere.
He wasn’t sure he could do this. He
wasn’t sure Ronon
would want them to see him like this, wasn’t sure that their
presence helped, wasn’t sure he could handle the memories
this
stirred up.
Wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stay and watch his
teammate suffer.
He hoped that Ronon was strong enough to get through this and then
chastised himself for doubting. This was Ronon, of course he
was
strong enough. After all, if he himself had been strong
enough to
survive, though granted with a lesser though still far too high level
of enzyme in his blood, then Ronon would definitely make it, being so
much stronger than himself.
He had to make it.
Friendship was hard. That was something he knew all too well,
and
it still amazed him even now that he had friends. And scared
him
when they were in danger and there was little, or worse, nothing he
could do. No miracle fixes.
Losing people, losing friends…it was still his worse
nightmare. Well, maybe not literally, those damned whale
nightmares were pretty bad, but it was his worst fear. The
pain
it caused…
He couldn’t fix this. Couldn’t produce a
device that
would save his friend this pain, this humiliation, and he hated that,
when he couldn’t fix the problem, any problem.
Hated it
most when it meant a friend was suffering.
Who would have thought that Ronon would become a friend? Not
a
close friend, not like he was with Carson, or even John, but a good
friend nonetheless. Someone he didn’t want to lose,
like
they had lost Elizabeth…
He forced his thoughts away from her; he still wasn’t ready
to
deal with it, not properly, and certainly not now, watching Ronon as he
suffered.
Part of him wanted to flee…but he stayed, because if the
situation was reversed, Ronon would stay, would be there for
him.
It’s what teammates did.
It’s what friends did.
They watched your back when they could, and they didn’t leave
you to fight alone.
----------------
He dreamed that night; memories of his own withdrawal, the terrible
dread when Ronon turned on them, the fear of not getting him back, not
being able to save him, the fear of losing another
friend…his
dreams were confused, all mixed up, and full of fear and betrayal and
fear and hopelessness and fear and Wraith and fear and pain
and…
And then a whale had eaten Atlantis while he watched from a boat, and
then turned and come after him…
Waking with a start, his heart pounding, he knew there was no point in
trying to get back to sleep now.
The only reason he had managed to get any sleep at all was because he
was so exhausted from the night before when he hadn’t slept,
trying futilely to find a way to save Ronon, and because he had been
assured by Sheppard and Teyla that they would take turns watching over
their teammate and would call him when it was his turn to do so.
He took his time getting dressed before heading to the mess hall, and
coffee. It didn’t surprise him to see Sheppard
sitting
there. He knew Teyla would be with Ronon by now, and the
chances
of Sheppard getting any sleep this night…slim to
nonexistent.
“Thought you were sleeping,” Sheppard commented as
Rodney
took a seat opposite him with a steaming mug of coffee in
hand.
“How’s Ronon?” he asked, avoiding the
sleep question.
“Not good,” John said with a grimace.
“But he’s strong. He’ll get
through it.”
“He’d better. I’m not having
gone through all this just for him to wimp out on us.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that.
I’m sure
he’ll like being called a wimp,” Sheppard said with
a
grin.
“I didn’t call him a
wimp…that’s not what I
said, what I meant…” he trailed off, seeing the
smirk on
Sheppard’s face and huffed in annoyance. Damn
flyboy was
teasing him. Again. “Oh, very
funny.”
Sheppard merely shook his head, before turning his attention back to
his plate of…double chocolate chip cookies.
“Huh. Where’d you get them, and why
haven’t I got some?”
“They’re from my own personal stash…and
they’re from my
own personal stash.”
“Teammates should share…”
“Right,” John drawled. “So,
didn’t Jeannie send you some Coffee Crisps
recently…”
“How did you know that…”
“I didn’t, but I know she sends you stuff now and
then, and she knows how much you love Coffee Crisps.”
He frowned, realising he’d stupidly fallen into
Sheppard’s
trap. He must be more tired than he’d
thought.
“So, what is this, a barter society?”
“You know it is.”
“Fine,” he said grumpily. “Give
me some cookies and you can have a Coffee Crisp bar later.”
“Nah, s’okay,” Sheppard said, pushing a
couple of cookies over to him on a spare serviette.
“Huh, so what was that all about?”
“Annoying you.”
“Right, of course.”
Silence fell for a few moments before John shifted awkwardly, getting
that look on his face; the look that meant he was thinking of talking
about something he wasn’t comfortable with. Like
emotions,
or something equally as appalling.
Great.
“Was it like that for you…you know, the
enzyme…”
“I don’t really remember…”
“Yeah, okay.”
He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He hated these
conversations,
particularly when it was Sheppard; they both sucked at this and they
both knew it, preferring to avoid them much of the time.
“Okay, I do remember…some bits. And
yeah, I think it
was. Maybe not quite that bad, but pretty close.”
“You got through it, though. Without us.”
“Yeah, well, Carson was there…” he
paused for a
moment, considering how much to say, or to not say.
“I seem
to remember accusing him of trying to kill me, more than
once.
And begging for him to kill me. But…not much else,
not
really.”
Sheppard nodded, accepting the last bit for the lie that it was, for
which he was grateful. He knew he could never lie to
Sheppard, or
to any his team for that matter, without them knowing it. It
was
highly frustrating at times.
“You should talk to Ronon, when he’s
better. Shared experiences and all that…”
“Maybe,” he hedged, not sure that Ronon would want
to talk
about it with anyone, least of all him. Not sure he could
handle
it if he did.
“Yeah, maybe.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of the kitchen staff, and as they
started to prepare for the early morning rush, Sheppard gave an excuse
and left.
Finishing the cookies, Rodney grabbed another mug of coffee and was
about to head down to the isolation room when a stray thought had him
asking one of the staff for a muffin, ignoring the slightly irritated
sigh it produced.
Teyla would be hungry, after all.
----------------
If there was one thing, one of many, many things, that Rodney was good
at, it was talking. Only this time, he wasn’t
really sure
what to say.
So in the end, he started rambling about stupid stuff, like the piano
lessons he’d had as a child. How he ended up on
that topic
he really didn’t know, but it wasn’t like Ronon was
awake…
Except that he was.
“Ronon… Hey, uh, how do you feel?”
“Like hitting someone.”
Right, well, that could just be Ronon being Ronon, or it could
be…something bad. “Anyone in
particular?”
Did he detect a small hint of humour in Ronon’s eyes, or was
he
imaging it? It was often hard to tell where his teammate was
concerned.
“You, if you don’t loosen these straps and get me
something
to eat.” Oh, yeah, definitely humour, he thought as
a smile
crossed his face. “That is a good sign,
that’s a good
sign,” he said, heading towards the door with a quiet,
“Okay,” followed once outside with a shout to
anyone near
by, “He’s back, he’s back
…”
Jennifer was there within moments, banning him from the room as she and
her staff conducted some tests.
He radioed Sheppard and Teyla as he paced outside the room, his body
thrumming with a mix of barely contained excitement and
anxiety.
Would Ronon be okay? He had sounded okay. Like his
old
self. Surely that was a good sign?
And then Teyla was there, with Torren in her arms. Then
Sheppard
as well, and all they could do was wait for the official verdict on
their friend.
Which, when it came, was good.
He couldn’t help smiling broadly. Ronon had made it
through withdrawal.
Of course, he’d never doubted for a moment that he would.
The End
Author's Notes:
1 - I did an internet search for
Canadian candy bars, looking for something that Jeannie might buy her
brother, and that he might like. I hope this fits the bill
okay!
Coffee
Crisps on wiki.
2 - Dialogue in the last scene I
transcribed from the episode itself. I’m fairly
certain
about the very quiet ‘okay’ that Rodney
says. Either
way, any mistakes are mine.