Damaged Goods, Chapter 21/21 (Finally Complete! W00t!)
Title: Damaged Goods
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John Sheppard/Ronon Dex
Rating: R
Spoilers: Runner, Vegas
Summary: AU: Ronon's immune to the wraith. Detective John Sheppard doesn't die in the Las Vegas desert. It would probably be easier if the opposites of both were true.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: Be sure to check out the rubygirl29's lovely cover art, while you're at it.
A/N 2: Whew! It's finally completed! A thousand apologies for the delay in getting these last two chapters posted, it's been a crazy month. Thanks for reading!
All chapters available on AO3 and Wraithbait, or start with the master post Dreamwidth or Livejournal.
As nearly perfect as yesterday was- it's hard to top saving the world, pancakes, and spending the afternoon drowsing naked in bed- the thin vein of tension that neither of them had felt like talking about has spread out over everything.
They'd made love again this morning, but it had been quiet, slow, more cautious than it needed to be, and John had found himself wanting to blurt all sorts of nonsensical grand statements that wouldn't make things easier.
It's Ronon, this time, who tells him to pull over on the way in to the facility. They kiss only briefly, and John knows what he's doing, at least, even if Ronon's eyes are too shuttered to confirm that he's pulling away, too.
Yesterday they'd saved the world. Well, they'd helped. Today, probably, some time soon, Woolsey will be making good on his promise to let Ronon return to Pegasus. And Ronon, not really having anywhere else to go, will leave. It's been coming down the pipes for ages, now- hell, John had fought for it- and the chaos and madness of the past few days doesn't change anything.
He'd been on the verge of asking him about it last night, before Mad Marlene had come looking for her dead cat again. Somewhere in the midst of trying to get her off of his doorstep and tripping over the loose corner of carpeting by the door, he'd realized this is what my life looks like. Damaged goods and all..
And even if it had looked less unappealing to Ronon right at that moment, it doesn't change the fact that John's not sure he has the right to ask him to stay. Maybe it's the fact he's still feeling so wiped from the chair, but it doesn't seem that there's really all that much he's got to offer beyond aching bones and a ratty carpet.
But it seems like Ronon's heard the question anyway, here this morning, sitting across the cafeteria table and picking quietly at his breakfast.
Finally, what John's been dreading happens, only it doesn't happen the way he's been expecting. For one, it's about half an hour too early. And it's not just Ronon's name that's being summoned to Woolsey's office. Immediately.
Woolsey's standing with Ambassador Shen and- shit Mr. Coolidge. They're gathered around the flatscreen monitor as they enter, and Woolsey waves them to join them while Coolidge talks angrily at the two women on the screen. Dr. Weir, John recognizes, but the other woman is dressed nothing like her, though she regards the camera with a contempt matching Weir's.
"If Atlantis had done a better job, they wouldn't have gotten as far as they did, Ms. Emmagen."
John gets a read on her expression just as it shifts from serene to poisonous. "And I assure you, if we'd had the personnel and technology we've been requesting, for months, I might add, this would not have been the case."
Weir nods, quirking a brow as Ms. Emmagen stalks off screen. "The only reason we are still standing, right now, is that Atlantis was not their intended target. And seeing as how we're exposing ourselves to much greater risk due to our continued association with Earth, we're going to require enough support to make it worth our while."
"I can't believe you're blindsiding us with this now, of all times," Coolidge shakes his head and sneers at the screen.
"On the contrary," Weir smirks. "What better time could there possibly be? But not to worry, of course there are details that need to be arranged, and I do understand what's happening on Earth. But we will be talking about this, Mr. Coolidge. Very soon. So. Moving on to today's agenda, seeing that our guests of honor have arrived and that we're down to, what, twenty nine minutes before the gate shuts down?"
"Yes, and sooner than you may think" Woolsey smirks at the confusion Weir's quick to mask. "Thank you. As we've discussed, arrangements have been made for Ronon Dex to return to the Pegasus galaxy via Midway."
"So I've heard," Dr. Weir says as Ronon steps forward. "I've been made aware of your situation, Mr. Dex, and would like to formally extend an invitation for you to stay here with us at Atlantis, if you like. You're under no obligation to do so, but if you're interested, we think we've got a place here for you."
John's at the wrong angle to see Ronon's expression without being obvious, so Ronon's response, a nod and a gruff thanks, could mean anything.
He hasn't committed to anything yet, John's trying to convince himself. He's so busy doing so that it's not until his name's been repeated that he looks up at the screen.
"What? Oh. Hi."
"Hello Mr. Sheppard, it's nice to see you again."
"You too," John says, glancing at Woolsey. "Though I don't... really know why you're seeing me."
"I'll admit that this is a last-minute addition to our agenda, and, of course, nothing discussed at this time needs to be decided immediately" Woolsey says. "But in light of the situation as it stands in Pegasus, we'd like to discuss the possibility of your joining the Atlantis expedition."
"What?"
"We need help," Dr. Weir says. "Yours, if you can give it. We've got a city full of Ancient technology and few people with genes strong enough to run it. This isn't only the chair-"
Ronon's growl is startling. "That chair nearly killed him."
"I understand that, but-"
"McKay's reported that the glitch the other night was mostly resultant of the requisite merging of Earth and Ancient technology," Shen cuts in. "I can show you his findings once we're done, here, if you'd like."
Ronon nods, the frown still creasing his face, but he holds his peace for now.
"Thank you, Ambassador Shen. As I was saying, it's not just the chair, but our navigation, shielding, and much of our life support systems that are at stake, here. We've been getting by, but if, for example, we had someone of your caliber on board, we might've been able to destroy the wraith fleet before they even left our galaxy. I realize that it's a lot to ask, and that leaving home for another galaxy is a massive undertaking, but I'm truly hoping that you'd consider joining us."
"Can I think about it?"
"Of course." Weir smiles, glances to the others. "If that's all for now, it looks like we've got about two minutes before the gate shuts down. Anything else?"
"No. Thank you, Dr. Weir," Ambassador Shen nods.
"Thank you, all of you," comes the reply, and John's not part of this, not really, but he's pretty sure her eyebrows translate into except you Coolidge, you're a complete bastard as the video link cuts out.
Once it's shut off, and they're all awkwardly standing facing the wall in Woolsey's office, John starts to wonder what they're supposed to be doing now. What, exactly, it is that he's supposed to be thinking.
Ronon's regarding him steadily out of the corner of his eye, though, and he's got an idea.
---
Coolidge and Shen slip out of Woolsey's office quietly, and it feels like Ronon's supposed to be aiming at something right now, only he doesn't know what.
"I wanted to thank the both of you," Woolsey says, seating himself behind his desk. "For everything you did yesterday, regardless of how foolish I personally find exhausting oneself to the point of unconsciousness, or climbing up an elevator shaft." John, at least, looks like he's trying to pay attention. It's all Ronon can do not to roll his eyes. He wants to leave this place- this office, at least, get some space away from the oppressive book shelves and the heavy furniture. Rehashing yesterday, honestly, isn't even near the top of the things he needs to think about.
"That being said, this isn't my first rodeo, and the two of you have carried yourselves in a manner far exceeding not only my expectations, but your training." Ronon blinks, and Woolsey sighs. "But I can see that I've been upstaged by Weir's offers, and didn't really have anything else that can't wait, so if the two of you would like to go and put some thought into what you'd like to do next, I'll be ready to hear your answers."
"Thanks," John says, eyes flashing to Ronon again before he heads for the door.
"Thanks," Ronon adds, though he's not even thinking about it as he follows John into the hallway.
"What-" He's just short of catching him by the arm when John shakes his head.
"Not right here," John explains with a shrug, and they head for the closest door that will get them outside.
It's hot out here, and blinding, and there probably aren't eyes on them right now but they walk a good distance before heads around to find a sliver of shade on the side of the building.
"This is wild," John says, staring at the low distant hill that's the only scenery from this side of the building. "I wasn't. I didn't. What do you think?"
"About?"
"Heading to Atlantis."
"You thinking about it?"
"Yeah," John smirks, then searches the sky- there's little else out here- for words. He sounds surprised when he continues. "I actually am. You?"
Ronon sighs, leans against the building. "This was never my home," he says, after digging for the words. He doesn't bring up that he hasn't had one in years, the next thought that comes to mind, but he's considering I'll stay if you ask me to. What he does manage is the truth of it. "I don't know what I'd do with myself, here. Out there?" Ronon shrugs. "The wraith are still out there."
"That's hardly a selling point," John smirks. "But it's not like I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being paranoid about them if I stayed here, either."
"The chair sent you to the hospital. An entire city of technology like that-" he breaks off, knowing that it's coming out all wrong- he's not actually trying to talk him out of it, only maybe he is- it would be safer for him, here, and that can be enough.
"I'd be careful."
Ronon considers him. "How careful?"
"As careful as you are when you're fighting the wraith," John deadpans.
"That's not careful enough." Something in this is finally loosening the knot in his stomach, and he's grinning despite himself. "It'd be more fun with you there, though."
"Yeah. So." John sighs, squares his shoulders before turning towards him. "I'm up for it, if you don't mind me tagging along."
"Just like that?" Ronon searches John's eyes for any hesitation, any wariness at all, but it's the clearest they've been all day. It's exactly like they'd been yesterday, perfect, but he still needs to hear him say it, needs to believe that he means it.
"Pretty much, yeah."
It's not the grandest of declarations, but it's honest- it's John, and Ronon's heart's shooting into his throat right now, because the scale of the statement doesn't matter, just the meaning.
They'd kissed on the way in this morning, careful and quiet and though they hadn't said it, it had felt like goodbye.
He's never going to kiss John like that again.
Starting now.
---
The End.
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John Sheppard/Ronon Dex
Rating: R
Spoilers: Runner, Vegas
Summary: AU: Ronon's immune to the wraith. Detective John Sheppard doesn't die in the Las Vegas desert. It would probably be easier if the opposites of both were true.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: Be sure to check out the rubygirl29's lovely cover art, while you're at it.
A/N 2: Whew! It's finally completed! A thousand apologies for the delay in getting these last two chapters posted, it's been a crazy month. Thanks for reading!
All chapters available on AO3 and Wraithbait, or start with the master post Dreamwidth or Livejournal.
As nearly perfect as yesterday was- it's hard to top saving the world, pancakes, and spending the afternoon drowsing naked in bed- the thin vein of tension that neither of them had felt like talking about has spread out over everything.
They'd made love again this morning, but it had been quiet, slow, more cautious than it needed to be, and John had found himself wanting to blurt all sorts of nonsensical grand statements that wouldn't make things easier.
It's Ronon, this time, who tells him to pull over on the way in to the facility. They kiss only briefly, and John knows what he's doing, at least, even if Ronon's eyes are too shuttered to confirm that he's pulling away, too.
Yesterday they'd saved the world. Well, they'd helped. Today, probably, some time soon, Woolsey will be making good on his promise to let Ronon return to Pegasus. And Ronon, not really having anywhere else to go, will leave. It's been coming down the pipes for ages, now- hell, John had fought for it- and the chaos and madness of the past few days doesn't change anything.
He'd been on the verge of asking him about it last night, before Mad Marlene had come looking for her dead cat again. Somewhere in the midst of trying to get her off of his doorstep and tripping over the loose corner of carpeting by the door, he'd realized this is what my life looks like. Damaged goods and all..
And even if it had looked less unappealing to Ronon right at that moment, it doesn't change the fact that John's not sure he has the right to ask him to stay. Maybe it's the fact he's still feeling so wiped from the chair, but it doesn't seem that there's really all that much he's got to offer beyond aching bones and a ratty carpet.
But it seems like Ronon's heard the question anyway, here this morning, sitting across the cafeteria table and picking quietly at his breakfast.
Finally, what John's been dreading happens, only it doesn't happen the way he's been expecting. For one, it's about half an hour too early. And it's not just Ronon's name that's being summoned to Woolsey's office. Immediately.
Woolsey's standing with Ambassador Shen and- shit Mr. Coolidge. They're gathered around the flatscreen monitor as they enter, and Woolsey waves them to join them while Coolidge talks angrily at the two women on the screen. Dr. Weir, John recognizes, but the other woman is dressed nothing like her, though she regards the camera with a contempt matching Weir's.
"If Atlantis had done a better job, they wouldn't have gotten as far as they did, Ms. Emmagen."
John gets a read on her expression just as it shifts from serene to poisonous. "And I assure you, if we'd had the personnel and technology we've been requesting, for months, I might add, this would not have been the case."
Weir nods, quirking a brow as Ms. Emmagen stalks off screen. "The only reason we are still standing, right now, is that Atlantis was not their intended target. And seeing as how we're exposing ourselves to much greater risk due to our continued association with Earth, we're going to require enough support to make it worth our while."
"I can't believe you're blindsiding us with this now, of all times," Coolidge shakes his head and sneers at the screen.
"On the contrary," Weir smirks. "What better time could there possibly be? But not to worry, of course there are details that need to be arranged, and I do understand what's happening on Earth. But we will be talking about this, Mr. Coolidge. Very soon. So. Moving on to today's agenda, seeing that our guests of honor have arrived and that we're down to, what, twenty nine minutes before the gate shuts down?"
"Yes, and sooner than you may think" Woolsey smirks at the confusion Weir's quick to mask. "Thank you. As we've discussed, arrangements have been made for Ronon Dex to return to the Pegasus galaxy via Midway."
"So I've heard," Dr. Weir says as Ronon steps forward. "I've been made aware of your situation, Mr. Dex, and would like to formally extend an invitation for you to stay here with us at Atlantis, if you like. You're under no obligation to do so, but if you're interested, we think we've got a place here for you."
John's at the wrong angle to see Ronon's expression without being obvious, so Ronon's response, a nod and a gruff thanks, could mean anything.
He hasn't committed to anything yet, John's trying to convince himself. He's so busy doing so that it's not until his name's been repeated that he looks up at the screen.
"What? Oh. Hi."
"Hello Mr. Sheppard, it's nice to see you again."
"You too," John says, glancing at Woolsey. "Though I don't... really know why you're seeing me."
"I'll admit that this is a last-minute addition to our agenda, and, of course, nothing discussed at this time needs to be decided immediately" Woolsey says. "But in light of the situation as it stands in Pegasus, we'd like to discuss the possibility of your joining the Atlantis expedition."
"What?"
"We need help," Dr. Weir says. "Yours, if you can give it. We've got a city full of Ancient technology and few people with genes strong enough to run it. This isn't only the chair-"
Ronon's growl is startling. "That chair nearly killed him."
"I understand that, but-"
"McKay's reported that the glitch the other night was mostly resultant of the requisite merging of Earth and Ancient technology," Shen cuts in. "I can show you his findings once we're done, here, if you'd like."
Ronon nods, the frown still creasing his face, but he holds his peace for now.
"Thank you, Ambassador Shen. As I was saying, it's not just the chair, but our navigation, shielding, and much of our life support systems that are at stake, here. We've been getting by, but if, for example, we had someone of your caliber on board, we might've been able to destroy the wraith fleet before they even left our galaxy. I realize that it's a lot to ask, and that leaving home for another galaxy is a massive undertaking, but I'm truly hoping that you'd consider joining us."
"Can I think about it?"
"Of course." Weir smiles, glances to the others. "If that's all for now, it looks like we've got about two minutes before the gate shuts down. Anything else?"
"No. Thank you, Dr. Weir," Ambassador Shen nods.
"Thank you, all of you," comes the reply, and John's not part of this, not really, but he's pretty sure her eyebrows translate into except you Coolidge, you're a complete bastard as the video link cuts out.
Once it's shut off, and they're all awkwardly standing facing the wall in Woolsey's office, John starts to wonder what they're supposed to be doing now. What, exactly, it is that he's supposed to be thinking.
Ronon's regarding him steadily out of the corner of his eye, though, and he's got an idea.
---
Coolidge and Shen slip out of Woolsey's office quietly, and it feels like Ronon's supposed to be aiming at something right now, only he doesn't know what.
"I wanted to thank the both of you," Woolsey says, seating himself behind his desk. "For everything you did yesterday, regardless of how foolish I personally find exhausting oneself to the point of unconsciousness, or climbing up an elevator shaft." John, at least, looks like he's trying to pay attention. It's all Ronon can do not to roll his eyes. He wants to leave this place- this office, at least, get some space away from the oppressive book shelves and the heavy furniture. Rehashing yesterday, honestly, isn't even near the top of the things he needs to think about.
"That being said, this isn't my first rodeo, and the two of you have carried yourselves in a manner far exceeding not only my expectations, but your training." Ronon blinks, and Woolsey sighs. "But I can see that I've been upstaged by Weir's offers, and didn't really have anything else that can't wait, so if the two of you would like to go and put some thought into what you'd like to do next, I'll be ready to hear your answers."
"Thanks," John says, eyes flashing to Ronon again before he heads for the door.
"Thanks," Ronon adds, though he's not even thinking about it as he follows John into the hallway.
"What-" He's just short of catching him by the arm when John shakes his head.
"Not right here," John explains with a shrug, and they head for the closest door that will get them outside.
It's hot out here, and blinding, and there probably aren't eyes on them right now but they walk a good distance before heads around to find a sliver of shade on the side of the building.
"This is wild," John says, staring at the low distant hill that's the only scenery from this side of the building. "I wasn't. I didn't. What do you think?"
"About?"
"Heading to Atlantis."
"You thinking about it?"
"Yeah," John smirks, then searches the sky- there's little else out here- for words. He sounds surprised when he continues. "I actually am. You?"
Ronon sighs, leans against the building. "This was never my home," he says, after digging for the words. He doesn't bring up that he hasn't had one in years, the next thought that comes to mind, but he's considering I'll stay if you ask me to. What he does manage is the truth of it. "I don't know what I'd do with myself, here. Out there?" Ronon shrugs. "The wraith are still out there."
"That's hardly a selling point," John smirks. "But it's not like I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being paranoid about them if I stayed here, either."
"The chair sent you to the hospital. An entire city of technology like that-" he breaks off, knowing that it's coming out all wrong- he's not actually trying to talk him out of it, only maybe he is- it would be safer for him, here, and that can be enough.
"I'd be careful."
Ronon considers him. "How careful?"
"As careful as you are when you're fighting the wraith," John deadpans.
"That's not careful enough." Something in this is finally loosening the knot in his stomach, and he's grinning despite himself. "It'd be more fun with you there, though."
"Yeah. So." John sighs, squares his shoulders before turning towards him. "I'm up for it, if you don't mind me tagging along."
"Just like that?" Ronon searches John's eyes for any hesitation, any wariness at all, but it's the clearest they've been all day. It's exactly like they'd been yesterday, perfect, but he still needs to hear him say it, needs to believe that he means it.
"Pretty much, yeah."
It's not the grandest of declarations, but it's honest- it's John, and Ronon's heart's shooting into his throat right now, because the scale of the statement doesn't matter, just the meaning.
They'd kissed on the way in this morning, careful and quiet and though they hadn't said it, it had felt like goodbye.
He's never going to kiss John like that again.
Starting now.
---
The End.