The Long Way Home

Chapter Ninety Five: Saving Grave

Romeo save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel.
This love is difficult, but it's real.
Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess.
It's a love story, baby, just say yes.

Taylor Swift – Love Story

The light was still on in the office that Hope shared with several other Aid Workers but then again Ronon had expected that. It was a small, confined space crowded with desks. Space was a commodity that the refugee camp could ill afford. Everyday the numbers of refugees were raising and they were struggling to accommodate for them all. Hope's registry was longer than it had ever been and Ronon could sense the pressure closing in on her from all sides. He wondered how she dealt with that, he watched her shoulder the burden of responsibility with her back straight and her head tilted up.

She was a warrior of a different kind, emotionally strong and resilient. Ronon had spent enough time with her to know that she fought for what she believed in, that she fought for the people that couldn't help themselves. The same way he did.

Ronon had been watching her from the open doorway for the past few minutes, gauging her from a distance. Her chestnut hair was drawn back into a messy bun held in place with chopsticks. The sleek bangs fell across her exotic features as she propped her chin on the palm of her hand, her small fingers using her ball point pen to scribble on the report she was writing. The noise of the pen scratching against the paper was echoing through the silence of the room. The motions were vicious and jagged, she was pressing down even harder as her anger at the situation grew and grew.

Ronon knew a thing or two about the rage that was building up inside Hope, he could see it licking at her cappuccino coloured skin like dark flames, burning scars upon that impressionable flesh. It was the type of nightmare that sucked you dry and crushed the life right out of you. The fury would possess every single inch of you if you let it and Hope was giving it free reign inside her toned, meromorphic form.

Let it go, he wanted to say. Just let it go.

It was easier said than done. How did you release such a violent, passionate emotion without destroying anything around you? The truth was you couldn't. Something had to bear the cost of all that fury and all that wickedness that was eating you up inside.

Her shoulders were tightening with the progression of the thoughts that rambled through her mind. Ronon observed Hope's knuckles turning white as she bore down on the pen until a brutal crack exploded in the silence of the room. It was like a gunshot breaking through the peace, Hope opened her hand allowing the frail plastic shards to drop onto the desk as she glared at the offending item in disgust.

She shoved her chair away from the desk and rose to her feet before turning to see him standing in the door frame watching her. His jade green eyes were on her features and she knew that Ronon wouldn't judge her for what was happening now. There was compassion and understanding in his eyes and she felt that fuel that had been accelerating the vengeful force inside of her slowly drain away at the knowledge of his presence. In his hand she spied a small pudding pot, he held it up so that she could see it was butterscotch before tossing it to her.

"You need to eat something." he told her as she caught it.

Hope collapsed back into the chair as the fierce energy evaporated completely, making her feel empty and cold. The vehemence was something she could deal with, it empowered her and gave her strength but this feeling was something she couldn't battle against. It was like being trapped under the ice with no way to break through the surface. She could feel herself slapping against the layer above her, struggling to breath against the freezing sensation rushing through her veins.