Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Note: Yup I'm finally back with another chapter. Struggled awhile with this one so I'm hoping it turned out ok.

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Chapter 16: Not His Father's Son

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Though his body was exhausted, Ronon only pushed it further, ran faster, needed to get his mind to shut down for a while, would have willingly sought out pain if he thought it would distract him. Twenty minutes later, chest heaving for breath, he slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat and about as alone as he could get in Atlantis. And still his thoughts persisted.

As a runner from the Wraith, he had been able to disconnect, to think of only his survival. By the time he had met up with Sheppard, he had long given up the expectation of returning home, of seeing Melina again or fighting alongside his fellow soldiers…like Tyre. He had been rational, realistic, focused… hopeless and utterly alone. 'I can't bear to go back to that.'

Sliding down the wall, he sat on the floor, drew his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees. This was his screw up, he knew that. And he should pay the consequences, all of them. Should march into Colonel Carter's office and tell her he'd be the one leaving not Sheppard. But he wasn't even naïve enough to think Carter or Sheppard would take that option and everything would be fine.

Sheppard, for one, would never go for it. He was a martyr on a daily basis and none of them had ever truly been able to dissuade him from taking up that role when he was determined to wear it like one of his smirks. As for Carter, yes, she was admitting her mistakes but …there was an undercurrent to all her explanations, her apologies…of unease, of indecision. Ronon guessed that she didn't know if she truly wanted Sheppard to stay, because all the tension between them, it wasn't just about Ronon's screwed up reunion with his friends. No, Carter had seen her moment and hurt John where she knew he was vulnerable.

'Yeah, me,' and that was a revelation in and of itself, that John cared that much about him that he'd upended his world when Carter wanted him booted off his team. Did that even though he believed Carter's insinuation that Ronon happily wanted off his team, that his planned departure was one of discontent…along with a fistful of disloyalty.

No, Carter had wanted to manipulate John, to demonstrate her power over him. But John, that wily idiot, had one upped her. No, five upped her. He had gone ahead and burned his world down around himself before she could. And now he was going to take that defiance all the way, was going to leave, concede the battle. Leave destruction in his wake that he couldn't even fathom, or simply wouldn't believe. 'Because if John leaves, if I lose him..…and Rodney and Telya lose him…if he's not here on Atlantis, doesn't stay in this fight….' Ronon knew the kind of emotional wreckage that would follow John's departure, that it would mirror the devastation his home world had suffered under the Wraith's rage.

Then there was the loss of Sheppard's matchless leadership in the fight for Atlantis' continued survival, for the entire galaxy's ability to fend off the wraith's total domination. McKay could come up with calculations and numbers and predictions, but Ronon didn't need scientific charts to gauge what the fall out would be. He had no doubts that, what the wraith had done to his home planet, the galaxy could expect the same annihilation. That the fight, the wars they found against the Wraith and all comers, would end in bitter defeat if Sheppard wasn't there to stubbornly stand in the way of evil machinations of those with power…which might even include the IOA, if Carter was any indication.

Ronon knew he could lay all this out for Sheppard, darkly insinuate that the galaxy would fall without him. He could guilt John into staying, continuing to fight. But how long could that keep the man going, surviving? Because surviving, it wasn't something you could be guilted into doing against the odds they faced on a weekly basis. No, it had to be something you wanted. John wanted. To fight to the last of his breath, his blood, his soul to not fall. That strength came from every fiber John possessed, the man had proven that time after time. But unlike Ronon's own stubborn survival as a runner, John's inner strength to live when everyone would count him out, it wasn't about vengeance, fury, hatred. Sure, it was about stubbornness, but it was mostly about loyalty, about not letting anyone down, certainly not any of the people who counted on him, who loved him.

That determination to not abandon anyone, Ronon now understood where that had emerged: when John's own father had abandoned him, left him alone and hurting and feeling ashamed for putting his life on the line to save others, protect others, to defend those unable to defend themselves, to pledge loyalty so deep he'd give his life for that fealty.

All honorable designs, ones a father should be most proud of.

Ronon hated John's father for making John think, for even a moment, that his intentions, his actions were anything but noble. Worse still, part of John must believe his father was right, which was why Ronon's intended departure and Carter's insulations dealt such a blow to Sheppard. It had reinforced what John's father had accused, that John wasn't good enough, that he was ruined somewhere down deep, wasn't worthy of loyalty, that he was on the wrong path, was selfish. None of the things that John was. Ever.

How did any of this stop John from leaving, absolve any of the hurt he'd done to his friend, to the man who was closer than a brother to him?! Ronon honestly didn't know, wasn't good with the heartfelt speeches, any more than John was. Only knew he had to make his own attempt to get John to stay, as he knew McKay and Teyla already had. But the fact was, they weren't the cause of John's unhappiness and doubt in himself, that was all him. So it fell to him to make things right, to undo the wrong he'd done, to stop John from leaving, wished it was as easy as knocking John out until he saw sense.

But sadly, violence wasn't the solution this time. Instead he had to do what John had done when they first met: use his words to sway the other's resolve. Course John had evoked Teyla to speak on his behalf at first, after all, the man always knew how to stack the odds in his favor. In the end, it was John's open honesty, his desire to do the right thing, to help others, even Ronon who was a stranger who had stunned him, tied him up and threatened to kill him, that had Ronon trusting him when trusting anyone wasn't something he had done in the long years since he'd first started running.

Now Ronon had to follow John's example, speak the truth and convince John that they still needed him, that staying it was the right thing to do, appeal to that soul deep need he had to help others. And if that entailed baring his soul…or a bit of persuasive guilting, Ronon could live with that as long as John didn't go anywhere.

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"I'm not asking to run a lap around Atlantis, Carson. Just let me hobble around the hallway, sit in a chair along the terrace, have some time out of here because, I seriously can't look at these stupid white walls for five more minutes!" John declared in a warning tone that always boded trouble.

"And put pressure on your leg, fall, rip out your stitches and do damage, set back your healing, ah…no. I'm not letting that happen," Carson sternly shot down John's escape plan.

"I will be a good boy," John promised, putting on his most earnest face which Carson snorted right into.

"Now I know my answer's correct in being no."

"I outrank you," John growled, even as he wondered if Carter had revoked that already.

Carson folded his arms across his chest in a I'm-not-budging stance. "Not in here, you don't, Colonel." When Sheppard opened his mouth to protest again, Carson shut him down. "You're staying in the bloody bed until I give you permission to get out of it." Then he gave John a stink eye and left.

John cursed under his breath. Carson didn't understand the ache he had to tool around Atlantis and he didn't want to explain it him, to anyone. Pity parties weren't supposed to be televised for one and all to see. So yeah, he wanted to see Atlantis one more time, wanted to let the memories settle nice and deep and irrevocably into his soul, wanted to run his hands over the control panels that obeyed his touch, to stare out at the ocean and the two moons from his favorite balcony, wanted to hear the whish and feel the cold tingle of the stargate one more time. Because his time was running short, he knew that. Even if Rodney had sabotaged his transmission, Carter would have talked with the IOA, forwarded his reassignment request onto Stargate Command.

He just needed some closure with this city that he had such a connection with, with the memories of the people gone already and those he would be leaving behind. Before the Daedalus arrived or they shipped him through the stargate, he wanted to say goodbye to his home, the only one he had truly had since he was a boy and his mother had still been alive. Because wasn't a home someplace that offered sanctuary to you and the people you loved, someplace you were accepted? Fought with all your strength and every inch of your soul to get back to? 'Well, it used to be my home,' John corrected morosely, hated that he had ruined that.

Looking up as something rattled toward him, he saw a wheelchair being pushed through the privacy curtain, smiled and thought maybe Carson understood him after all. But to John's surprise, the driver of the wheelchair wasn't Carson, it was Ronon.

Without speaking, Ronon used military hand signals to do a two finger point in the general direction of the infirmary exit before jerking his head to the IV line attached to John. John gave a nod, confirming his agreement to both tactically plans. Suddenly Carson's voice drew closer forcing Ronon to do an evade maneuver. Crouching down against the bed's other side so his tall frame wouldn't be silhouetted through the curtain, Ronon held still, didn't get up until John tapped his shoulder signaling that the coast was clear even as he heard Carson's voice dimming and the doctor's trademark footsteps heading across the infirmary.

In motion again, Ronon carefully slid the IV bag from its post and handed it off to John, who had already flung his covers back, raring to go. John was about to throw his legs over the side of the bed…. ok, slowly maneuver his gunshot leg off the bed and move in glacier slow motion until his legs dangled over the bed. But Ronon didn't give him a chance to even move his legs, was there by the bed quickly but carefully sliding his arms under John's back and knees. John gave a whispered "I got it!" in protest but Ronon wholly ignored him, continued with his plan and gently picked John up in his arms. Two steps had him using that same gentleness to settle John into the wheelchair. Bending down, he raised the one chair leg support and made sure John's wounded leg was comfortably situated.

Putting up a finger of the universal sign to wait one moment, Ronon ducked out from the curtain area to scout out the enemy troops blocking the path to their freedom. It gave John's dread about the upcoming conversation with Ronon to catch up to him. As much as he knew that he and Ronon had to talk before he left, John also realized that it would be harder than talking to Rodney or Teyla had been. And not harder just because he and Ronon were both men of few words, especially when it came to feeling things and deep truths, but because John didn't want to talk about his feelings. He wanted to suck it up and do the right thing without saying a word, to anyone. Well, that had been his plan until Rodney snooped into his personal files, saw his transfer request.

Ronon returned a moment later and gave a nod that the coast was clear. Settling behind John's wheelchair, he steered Sheppard through the curtain, past some oblivious medical team members and out of the infirmary. Silence reigned between the two men as Ronon's long stride ate up the corridor. For Ronon's part, he wanted to say his piece without an audience while John, he was fine with delaying the conversation as long as he could.

When Ronon rolled him into a transporter and reached out to select a destination, John noted the other man's knuckles were busted open on his right hand. It made John subconsciously rub his own right hand which sported similar wounds. Made him consider the idea that Ronon was in the same dark place he was, was hurting too. John didn't like that. Wanted better for Ronon, for his team, for them to accept his decision and see the good that could come from it.

Some part of John knew he shouldn't be shocked when the transporter doors opened to the location they did, that Ronon had taken him to his favorite balcony. Maybe the man did know him as well as Teyla had implied. 'Or even better,' John amended, starting to piece together that Ronon had been worried about him, sensed his hurt..knew where he sought to go when he wanted to be released from the infirmary: to this exact spot.

Naively John had thought he had guarded himself behind his mental and emotional barriers so well that no one could really know him… or hurt him. 'Not here, not with them you haven't.' Here, everything was, had been, different.

It was almost a sorrowful revelation to accept that Ronon, Teyla, even Rodney, who could be so self-absorbed, knew him better than anyone probably ever had, especially his brother and father, even his ex-wife. 'Guess turning into a bug man, getting the life sucked out of you, and risking your life and losing friends who were more like family does that. Makes you…vulnerable…known.'

He almost startled when Ronon finally spoke after setting the wheelchair brake, "This good?" John nodded, the chair position was great. He could see the expansion of water, the two suns going down for the day in spectacular blazing colors of reds and pinks. Feeling the breeze in his face, he soulfully drew in the salty air. It was one heck of a view from which to say his goodbyes to Atlantis.

Sensing John needed the quiet more than his words, Ronon rested against the railing, took in the sight that enthralled Sheppard. And it was beautiful, John had taught him to appreciate sights like these when he first came to Atlantis, after years of only seeing the end of one day and the start of another as markings in his game of survival. Now it was his time to return the favor, to remind John of what was important, what should be noted and what it was like to hope again.

Turning around, Ronon leaned against the railing and looked down at John, who had his face tipped up and eyes closed taking in the two suns' last rays of the day. "I never considered myself a coward." It was startling enough of an opener that John's eyes snapped open to seek his. Ronon dropped his eyes to his hands, rubbed his busted open knuckles before meeting John's surprised gaze again. "Always swore I'd die before I ever crossed that line."

John couldn't let Ronon's implied insult to himself stand. "Ronon you're the last person in the world…two galaxies who's a coward."

Ronon shook his head sorrowfully, "No. I'm not." He shuffled uncomfortable before sinking down to sit on the ground, his back pressed against the railing, his eyes still fixed on John. "I lied to you…before. I …I did want to leave." Hated that all color leaked out of John's face at his confession, but he let it stand a moment, needed John to except that fact before he could make him see why that was.

John felt his world slip out from under him, more of his world. He had thought…had hoped in his heart that Carter had been wrong, that Ronon's insistence was true, that Ronon hadn't wanted to leave. Suddenly John wanted the Daedalus there now, wanted to be gone gone gone. Didn't want to hear more, to know how he had manipulated …stifled, belittled Ronon until the soldier wanted to leave Atlantis. "Well…ok," he managed, hands on the wheelchair wheels ready to turn tail and leave but Ronon's hand settled on top of his, stopping his escape.

Giving John's hand a squeeze, Ronon waited to speak again until John was generous enough to look at him, though he probably hated him for his confession. "I saw my chance to…to run away and I was taking it…like the coward I am."

"Run away?" John repeated in bewilderment.

Ronon slid his hand from John's and nodded his head. "It wasn't all about protecting Tyre, Ara and Rakai…it was about protecting myself."

John had to concede the soundness of Ronon's rational. "Can't say joining up with me…Atlantis, being on Atlantis, could ever be considered the safe bet. You definitely have reason to regret the day you took me up on my offer to stay here," he guiltily tried to joke but all he could think about was the past years if Ronon hadn't been there. Ronon had been…his rock, his savoir, his brother through so much of the hard times, the bad times He didn't think he'd be here now if not for him. No. He wouldn't be here now without him. He knew that. Appreciated it, even if Ronon only felt regret for the years wasted with him, on Atlantis.

Frustrated that John could take his words and twist them into something hurtful and wrong, Ronon growled, "I didn't regret choosing to stay here, being on your team. And I would die for you…for what we fight for. I thought you knew that, at least."

'I thought so too,' John silently replied but didn't say it aloud, couldn't.

John's silence was answer enough and Ronon gave a low growl in his throat and looked away, felt tears prickling his eyes. How could the man not know how deep his fealty to him ran?! So deep that it scared him, had him running away rather than …than… "I figured it would be just a matter of time," his voice rough with suppressed emotions as he looked everywhere but at John. "After we…when Dr. Weir…."

John could fill in the blanks Ronon couldn't. "Just a matter of time before I got the rest of the team killed," self-hatred dripping in every word.

Ronon's head snapped to John's. "You didn't get her killed! She made her own choice…"

"Because she had damn nananites in her…because I flew Atlantis before the shielding closed…because of my misjudgment…." John choked up, hated that his actions and inactions had lost Elizabeth. That he couldn't be trusted to not lose the rest of team, all of Atlantis.

And as much as Ronon knew John hated to leave Elizabeth behind, he didn't know the man carried this guilt upon his soul erroneously. "John, you did what you had to do to save everyone in Atlantis! There was no way you could have known …that anyone could have predicted the strike that would be made, that Dr. Weir would be there…get hurt."

John shook his head, denying Ronon's absolution. "I'm supposed to be the guy who does know, makes right predictions, who …who saves people…doesn't …doesn't get them …killed," John brokenly said before clamping his jaw shut and trying hard to seal up his emotions, to not feel a thing.

Ronon felt gutted by John's misplaced guilt that he had been drowning in and Ronon hadn't known it. 'He felt guilty about losing Elizabeth and then I go and say I'm leaving…and Carter puts her taint on my decision.' It made it all the more important that John understand why he had really decided to leave Atlantis.

"You can't protect everyone John! No one can. It's…it's why I wanted to leave. Not because I didn't trust you to protect me... but because.." He inhaled and rested his head back against the railing, faced John's lost expression. "Because I knew ….had to accept that I might lose you…Teyla, Rodney…like we lost Elizabeth. That I couldn't protect you…anyone. That all this…" he waved his hand to take in Atlantis, "it could be destroyed like Satada." Ronon bowed his head in shame. "I didn't want to be here for that…to lose …the people I care about most. To let them down."

John never expected Ronon's reasons for wanting to leave to be so familiar to his own right then. Both believing that it was better to cut themselves off instead of getting someone you loved killed, of watching helplessly as they lost their lives. "I get that."

Ronon raised his head and gave John a somber look. "I know you do." Pulling his knees up to his chest he draped his arms over them. "But it was no good, trying to walk away, thinking it would be better, hurt less if something happened to you..to Rodney, Teyla while I wasn't there."

Fisting his hands together, Ronon allowed his memories to resurface, allowed the remembered fear to wash over him. "On the ship with Tyre and the others, when I heard gunfire, knew that my team was in danger…I abandoned my Satadan friends without a single thought about their safety, went to help you…save you." He looked up to John, was encouraged by the man's look of surprise. "Knew then that it wasn't going to be better if I wasn't there to watch you die, was going to be so much worse if I wasn't with you, wasn't fighting with my last breath to save you…or die standing beside all of you. Realized that I shouldn't have ever thought about leaving but it was probably too late. I had made promises to Tyre, Ara and Rakai." His voice turned hoarser as he added the worst of his offences, "And I had destroyed the trust you had in me."

John was rocked by Ronon's confession, would have never suspected the man had regretted his decision to leave even before the choice was taken away from him by his friends' betrayal. Unwilling to let one of Ronon's claims go, he corrected, "You didn't destroy my trust…" he emphatically stated before he smirked and admitted, "Pissed me off, yeah." Dropping his eyes from Ronon, John fiddled with the cuts on his own knuckles and quietly did his own confession, "You might have hurt my feelings…if I had feelings."

Though he felt guilty about that truth, Ronon found himself smirking, knew he could maneuver through this familiar territory with John. "Which you don't."

"Course not," John shot back, pretending he was affronted Ronon that could doubt that for a moment.

Ronon gave an amused relieved snort before falling solemn again, dark eyes holding John's. "If you're thinking about leaving for the same reasons I was…it's a no win situation."

"Might be the difference between lives being saved…or lost," John refuted, knew he had more lives in his hands than Ronon did, that his mistakes came at such a higher price for so many others.

"Yes…but not the way you're thinking of it," Ronon refuted, knew then that it wasn't going to be about him guilting John into staying, it was about removing the guilt John already felt, of getting him to see the past and the future without the bias haze he reviewed both in now. "John, you being here…it's the best thing for everyone."

But John shook his head at Ronon's claim. "You don't know that, Ronon. And the proof that you're wrong is stacked pretty high."

Knowing he had to personalize his argument, Ronon dismissed, "Ok, forget about everyone else," before letting his conviction carry in every word that followed. "The best thing for me, for Teyla and Rodney and Carson is for you to stay here. None of us want you to go. Doesn't that matter to you?!" he resentfully growled, was done pretending his own happiness wasn't on the line.

And it did matter, that his friends didn't want him to go…but it wasn't enough, not when him staying could get them all dead. So he defected, cowardly put the blame on Carter for his departure because Ronon was refusing to accept his real reasons. "That's nice and ego boasting and all but Carter has already packed my bags and with my recent screw ups, she's got valid reasons for wanting me gone."

"The IOA has wanted you gone all along but Elizabeth fought for you every time. The Wraith sure as hell want you dead but we all do everything we can to make sure they don't get their wish. And what? After all the defiance and promises to keep fight, you're just going to give up?! And you're not just giving up on Atlantis, on the Stargate program, you're giving up on Rodney, and Teyla and you're giving up on me!" Ronon growled before he had to swallow hard, the next words coming out choked. "You're the one person I've come to trust to never turn his back on me, abandon me to fight a battle alone. But if you leave…that's exactly what you're doing." Saw John's flinch at that accusation but Ronon didn't back down, pull his next verbal punch. "And don't hide behind Carter! If you want to stay, you fight to stay! You know I'll have your back, that there's a whole city of people who'll stand with you."

"Ronon I.." John stammered, his emotions pinging around in a thousand directions.

Reaching out, Ronon put his hand on John's shoulder, met his adopted brother's eyes. "This decision…it's yours, John. It's not Colonel Carter's. You can run away…abandon us… … like I thought to do to escape some feared future loss or you can stay with us. And we can fight side by side and you can have the chance to ensure that dark future we both fear never happens. You're not your dad, John, you don't give up on people…even when you should for your own survival. That's just not who you are."

Ronon had left him no wiggle room, not unless he was truly a heartless bastard who choose to cowardly turn his back on his friends, no, on his family, when they needed him. Or simply just when they wanted him to stay. And he did have people who wanted him to stay, they had flat out told him that, vulnerability and pride be danged. It didn't escape John's notice that his three teammates had asked for something his own father never had: for him to stay, to not leave. Instead his father's approach was more the 'if you walk out that door and turn your back on the future I bought for you, don't bother ever coming back.' Taking his father at his word, John hadn't ever gone home again and it hurt, badly, knowing his father didn't miss him.

But his friends on Atlantis, they would miss him, didn't want him to go, weren't shy about telling him that to his face. And he would never accuse them of lying, none the type to play games with him, to manipulate him. Instead each of them had the habit of being brutally honest with him, especially when they thought he had done something reckless or was about to do something dumb and/or something…how did Rodney phrase it? 'Detrimental to his wellbeing?

Now facing the man who had leveled him with a lethal combination of vulnerability, brotherly affection, a soldier's pragmatism and brow beating logic, John accused, "You're a manipulative jerk, you know that?" Even as he was coming to terms with the decision he was about to make, the only decision he could truly live with, honestly the only decision he wanted to live with. Because without being there on Atlantis, without his new found family surrounding him, without fighting for something or someone, without doing good to counter all the bad his mistakes had done, there wasn't much living he wanted to do.

Taking John's accusation for a sign of capitulation, Ronon smiled widely. "Learned from the best," he boasted with absolutely no repentance.

"Rodney's not that bad…" John drawled, purposefully misinterpreting the insult directed at him.

"Funny," Ronon snorted but couldn't dampen his smile, reveling now that he knew John wasn't going anywhere.

John's lips slowly turned up into a smile to rival Ronon's, relief and satisfaction and ..happiness washing over him. He couldn't leave, not if by staying he just might save them, not to mention he'd be saving the best parts of himself. "Colonel Carter is going to have a cow when I tell her I'm withdrawing my reassignment request and the IOA will think…"

Ronon cut across John's worried ramblings, "Carter knows if you leave, she'd have a full out revolt on her hands and Rodney scuttled your letter to the IOA."

"So you're the guy now with all the answers…" John taunted like he resented it but the truth was, it was nice to have Ronon in his corner doing all the heavy thinking.

"Just the ones that matter," Ronon conceded that point, relieved that he had found the words, the right motivation to keep John with them. Coming to his feet, he announced, "I better get you back to Carson before he sends out a search party." Only then willing to return John to Carson, now that he had the certainty that his friend wasn't going anywhere, that they had all the time John needed to talk more, that he could make John realize how much he was valued and needed. Or maybe Ronon wouldn't have to say anything, would just stand at the man's side in a silent pledge of loyalty like he from the start.

As Ronon wheeled him around and headed again for the tranporter, John tapped Ronon's busted up knuckles, "Do I want to know who you put in the infirmary or was this you tangling with a Wraith?"

"Tangled with a wall, more than one," Ronon abashedly confessed before nodding to John's own bruised hand. "You?"

John's face pinked up in matching embarrassment. "Punching bag."

Ronon grunted out a "hmm" as he got them both into the transporter and selected the location closest to the infirmary. Didn't like the proof of John being self-destructive but he understood the release and the need for that pain. "Guess we're more alike than I thought."

That truth, it was finally sinking in with John. Made him think that what people said might be true: that sometimes you met someone who felt more like family than those that were bound to you by blood. But not wanting to get all touchy feeling again, John groused back to Ronon's claim, "No need to get insulting…"

Knowing John wholeheartedly agreed with his assessment but was done talking about his feelings, or admitting he had feelings, Ronon smirked and ruffled John's hair while John tried, unsuccessfully, to duck out of his reach and whined "Hey, stop that! I finally got it poofy again."

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TBC

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Thanks for everyone who's still reading this story! And for those who take the time to drop me a line of encouragement, who lift me up and don't tear me down and make me want to share the stories running around in my head with them, love ya!

Praying for your safety, for renewed hope and for the light to break through from the shadows.

Chery W.