The Long Way Home

Chapter One Hundred & Three: War

Pain. It was the only thing that was keeping Ronon Dex hanging on while Hope was in the hands of those monsters. Her shrill screams were still ringing in his ears like flashbacks from his most cruellest of nightmares. He had lost track of the amount of years that had been claimed from her youthful form. Ronon had watched his mate's olive skin crinkle and wither as she aged decade by decade. Everytime he saw another year being stripped away from Hope, he knew was less time that he would get to spend with her.

The process has been slow and her whimpers of agony had stabbed him repeatedly in the heart like a hunter's knife. He was bleeding out inside the same way that she was. He didn't know if she would recover from the hell that she had been exposed to. Beckett had said that the feeding process was a traumatic experience on the human form and the elderly survivors of the Wraith lasted only a matter of months at most.

If this proved to be true that Ronon would ensure that the time he did have left with Hope would be the most happiest of her remaining life.

His large fingers ran over the indentation of his fist left in the frame of the metal locker. His hand was aching, the skin was broken and blood was smeared across his white knuckles. There was so much rage burning up deep inside of him, so much anger, so much fury. He had entered the locker room and sat upon the wooden bench preparing himself for the moment Sheppard said the word go.

The problem was the silence gave him time to think. Ronon had sat here and absorbed every single image he had been privy to and in turn he had lost it. Helplessness didn't cover what he was feeling, he would have given everything for their positions to have been reversed. He would have given his life a thousand times over for Hope and it had taken until now to gauge the entire depth of his feelings. He would still love her, no matter what she looked like or how frail she would be. That's what love was, it was accepting the other person for exactly who they were and he would do that for Hope.

Ronon dropped down onto the bench once more as the adrenaline drained out of him. The truth was he didn't even know if she was alive any more. There was no proof that she was dead, the video had been turned off long before they had reached the stage of fatality but he had seen enough to know if Hope did come back, she would come back damaged.

He'd barely allowed himself time to think about Cass, he couldn't bring himself to think about what had happened to her. Clearly there was something they didn't understand going on under the surface, Hartford had said that she was out of his hands and Ronon couldn't help but wonder what that meant. Did it mean she was dead?

He didn't want to consider that possibility. It would mean that he was giving up on Cass if he did. Sheppard was barely keeping himself together at the moment. Although his motions were controlled and automatic, Ronon could see the same wild beast that had pacing behind his own eyes waiting to be unleashed. He wasn't sure how Sheppard was managing to hold on but he assumed it was something to do with distancing himself from the situation.

Ronon didn't understand how he could do that, Cassandra was the love of the other man's life. He was inconsolable at the images he'd seen of Hope being abused so badly, if Sheppard had seen something similar Ronon suspected he'd already be on the war path flying his Jumper all over the Galaxy until he got a bead on his girl.

As luck would have it they were waiting on McKay to track the dogtags that Sheppard had forced him to rig with a transmitter, the signal was apparently intermittent at best. Where ever Cass was located was somewhere that blocked the signal periodically and that's why it was causing the genius so much God damn trouble.

Ronon let out a frustrated growl into his large hands as he ran them over his exhausted features. He hadn't slept since the culling had happened, he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes and see the images that he knew would haunt him in his sleep. He should have stayed with the two of them and sent one of the soldiers ahead. He had thought they were safe but clearly he had been wrong. He had spent the time in between the culling and the video going over things in his head. Had there been a sign that this was going to happen? Had he been too wrapped up in his own blossoming romance with Hope to see the bigger picture?

Hope, she was in this thoughts again. He relived that last night they had spent together in the office. He remembered the texture of her silky hair underneath his fingers, how tender and soft her lips felt as they brushed over his. He had never felt so deserving of someone else before, he had never desired someone so badly. He had wanted Hope that night, her soul and her body. Ronon had wanted to make her his, he wanted to show her the extent of his feelings but she wasn't ready. She was barely coming to terms with the chemistry that blazed between them, he had been letting her make the moves. He had placed his heart in her hands and let her set the pace.

He had lost track of the hours that they had spent cuddling together. Her kisses had been poignant and sweet, Ronon had enjoyed the time he had spent exploring the confines of her mouth. He had spent so much time learning all the little things that made up his beautiful exotic woman. He loved the way her nose crinkled just a little when he made her laugh. Her dark eyes were the most expressive that Ronon had ever seen, every time he stared into them he felt like he could see right into her soul. He knew that he was the only one privy to seeing that side if her and he adored the privacy of the notion.

Ronon swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, it was an aching mass restricting his breathing. He found himself getting lost in the darkness once more as the guilt crashed in like a wave washing over his head. He couldn't breath at the thought that the two of them may not return, Ronon couldn't imagine life without his mate or his friend. The world would become a very barren place for him. There would be no home for him if they didn't come back. His life would be about revenge, about massacring the bastards that had hurt them.

If Hope died...

There wouldn't be a shred of humanity left in Ronon Dex.

The door to the locker room banged open as Sheppard swept through, that determined, purposeful look upon his features. The team was behind him, Lorne was already barking out orders that Ronon could only guess Sheppard had give out prior to his entrance.

"Come on Chewie, we've got a location." Sheppard uttered, tearing open his own locker and yanking out his Tactical Vest.

Ronon rose to his feet, his hand already snaking down to his gun so his thumb came to rest on the switch that flicked between 'stun' and 'kill'. Sheppard watched the motion with a clinical detachment and he found himself agreeing with the unspoken statement that passed between them.

They would be taking no prisoners.