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kathierif_ficcontinued from here
“He shouldn’t have to,” John argued. “He can just as well stay in his room for the night.”
“It’s just for the night, Colonel,” Jennifer answered, her patience thinning. “And it’s for his own safety. We were expecting anything to happen last night, and still, he managed to overwhelm the guards and escape. How many of your men do you think will shoot first and ask questions later when they are confronted by a huge wolf somewhere in this city?”
“She’s right.” Ronon looked up from his bare toes. He was the only one who was sitting; Jennifer was standing behind her desk and John was pacing next to Ronon, too agitated to stay still. He could almost taste the tension in the room, it was so thick, and, like a film of an oily substance, it was heavy on his tongue and in his throat. He’d spent most of the day sleeping or dozing, exhausted from the changes his body had gone through, but every time he had been awake, he had contemplated his situation and he had come to a similar result as Jennifer. He didn’t like it – he hated being locked up – but he knew that it was his best option. He didn’t want to get shot by his own people.
“Besides, Woolsey ordered it,” Jennifer added quickly.
John sat down with a small growl. He was moving very slowly and very deliberately, a clear sign of how much not okay he was with the situation.
“It’s just for the nights, until we have figured out how often and how long Ronon changes,” Jennifer said by way of explanation. “We don’t know anything about this…wolfman thing. We need more information before we can make a real decision. You know that, Colonel.”
Ronon sniffed. “Relax,” he said and nudged John with his knee. “You smell like you’re just begging to get the hell kicked out of you.” He tilted his head to the side and smirked, and for a reason Jennifer didn’t know, the tips of John’s ears turned a bright shade of red – a similar shade to his burned arms.
“Besides,” Ronon added and fixed his eyes on Jennifer. They were burning with an intensity that almost scared her. It looked somehow…inhuman and served as a reminder that Ronon now was a werewolf. “It’s just for one night, right?”
“Until we’ve figured out if you’re a danger to anyone,” she replied hastily. “But only for the nights. You’re good to go by day. As soon as you turn back to yourself, you can leave.”
Ronon nodded once, a thoughtful expression on his face, and stood. “Okay, then.”
He turned around to leave, and unsurprisingly, John quickly followed him out.
The good thing about being a wolfman, Ronon thought with grim amusement, was that his senses, even now, were much more sensitive. He could smell the anger, the worry, the attraction John was feeling, and it gave him a much clearer understanding of what John was really thinking behind his carefully constructed mask of laid-back, easy going Colonel Sheppard.
The bad thing, on the other hand, was that his senses were much more sensitive, and when they walked past the chemistry lab, he almost gagged and hastily quickened his step.
Finally, they reached the gym. This time of the day, it was quiet there, almost deserted, and the two Marines sparring on the other side of the room gave them a respectful nod and left them alone.
Ronon waited until it was just the two of them and then reached for John. John stiffened as if Ronon had just insulted his entire planet, however, Ronon was stronger and much more determined. He wouldn’t let that stiffness stop him.
“Hey,” he said again and tugged John close. “What’s wrong?”
“This. The whole situation. It sucks.” John frowned. He was feeling helpless and he hated it.
Ronon’s thumbs dug into his shoulders. “Don’t,” he said gruffly and sniffed. He could tell that John had showered, that his elbow had brushed against Lorne earlier in the day, that he’d sparred with Teyla, and he could detect the faint, but familiar smell underneath all that.
Him.
John smelled like him.
He’d tried to wash it off, but it still was there, without a doubt.
“What?” John asked in irritation and peered up at him.
Ronon smirked. “You really don’t have a lot of sex for a sex vampire,” he replied, and then, he let his head dip down and pressed his mouth to John’s.
John made a choking noise and nipped on Ronon’s tongue, and the small pain was sharp enough to make him pull back.
“Not here,” John hissed and looked over his shoulder. Ronon pulled back slightly and reached for the bantos rods leaning against the close wall.
“Nobody’s here,” he pointed out, but the tension in John’s shoulders wasn’t only in his scent, but visible now, and Ronon knew it would be wise to back off now.
“I told you, nobody will hear it from me,” he said quietly, but John didn’t react. He took the rods from Ronon’s fingers and twirled them.
Ronon grabbed a second pair and took position opposite John. “Doctor Keller said the change wreaks havoc on my hormones,” he said after a moment of tense silence.
John’s lips twitched slightly as he feigned an attack. “Hormones, huh?” he replied and jumped back again.
“That’s what she says.” Ronon grinned a little and began to circle John. “Wanna stop by my quarters tomorrow morning and help me get them back in order?”
He watched John’s eyes narrow slightly, but he didn’t give him time to reply. Instead, he started his own attack, and for the next few minutes, John was busy trying to defend himself against him. Ronon only stopped his attack when John was flat on his back.
“What do you say?” he asked and stretched out his hand, to help him back to his feet.
“Sure,” John panted and got ready for another round.
Ronon circled him again. John was moving with him, his eyes focused on every little move Ronon made.
“I don’t think I want you to see me change,” he abruptly said and launched another attack on John.
John hastily jumped back. “What? Why not?” he managed to ask.
Ronon shrugged one shoulder. “I saw that security tape,” he pointed out. “Looks pretty horrible. Bones breaking and fusing together, all that. I don’t want you to watch that.”
John frowned, but he nodded. “All right, buddy. No peeking. I got it.” He attacked Ronon suddenly, but he had no trouble defending himself against John.
“Okay,” he simply said and knocked John down again.
~*+*~
By the time the sun was setting over Atlantis and the first moon came up, full and round and pale, Ronon was in a holding cell and John was in the conference room with Rodney, Teyla and Lorne.
“They found this body yesterday,” Lorne reported and showed them a picture of a corpse.
Rodney made a faint gagging sound, and John felt himself stiffen. He’d seen that man before, and even if it had been dark then and lying in a field for two weeks hadn’t been kind to the man, there was no doubt who it was.
“A hunting accident, they say,” Lorne said. “Besides him, every villager is accounted for.”
“A hunting accident?” Rodney asked, disbelief coloring his voice. “What was he hunting that required of him to turn into a gigantic wolf? Innocent travelers?”
“No,” Teyla replied, a hard edge in her voice. “Wraith.”
For a long moment they were silent, then Rodney asked in a faint voice, “Wait, what?”
“I believe,” Teyla said, her voice controlled and calm, “that we have found the Wraithhunters.” She glanced into their confused faces and added, “Mysterious wolfmen warriors who are well-known for fighting the Wraith. They probably are most like the ninjas in the movies you showed me.” She gave John a brief nod.
“What makes you think this guy is a ninja werewolf?” Rodney asked, his forehead furrowed. “He wasn’t very ninja about attacking Ronon.”
“They are very secretive about their actions,” Teyla said. “I did not see it when we encountered this man on the planet, but he bears the mark of the Wraithhunters.” She pointed at the picture. “See, there?”
On the inside of the man’s left wrist, barely visible in the photograph, was a faint scar in the shape of a hand.
John inhaled sharply. “Great,” he muttered. “We killed a Wraith-hunting werewolf ninja. I just hope the others don’t want retaliation.”
Lorne shifted. “Sir,” he said, a serious tone in his voice. “I believe all of the villagers have that mark…at least the adults.”
Silence fell over them once again.
“Oh, great,” Rodney said. “We found the planet of the Wraith-hunting werewolf ninjas. And we promised to help them with their water supply.”
~*+*~
After he left the conference room, John wandered aimlessly through Atlantis, twitchy and nervous about the new revelation. It took him a while to figure out that he also was nervous because of Ronon, and because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ramifications of the wolfmen finding out that it had been the Lanteans who had killed one of their own.
The thought of Ronon being in danger was almost unbearable to him, even if he knew perfectly well that Ronon was capable of defending himself, no matter what body he was in.
Finally, he gave up and went to the holding cell, to see how Ronon was doing.
In the bright light, the wolf looked even more massive than he had the night before, when it had been dark and all John had been able to make out were schemes and shadows. The wolf’s ears were flat against its head, its teeth revealed in a growl. The wolf was pacing the confines of its cell on gigantic paws. His fur gleamed in the light, a glossy dark brown that looked almost black.
John exhaled – he hadn’t even noticed that he’d held his breath at the sight of his friend in this form. “Hey, buddy,” he greeted and took a step toward the cell. “How are you holding up?”
The wolf’s ears slowly twitched toward him, and John took another step forward as yellow eyes focused on him.
“Hey, buddy,” he said again and watched as the wolf copied his actions on the other side of the energy barrier and took a step toward him.
“Ronon?”
The wolf whimpered, as if he had understood John, and slowly sat down on his hind legs.
“This sucks,” John muttered, and the whimpering sound he got from the wolf sounded like agreement. The animal didn’t seem to be as agitated as it had been when John had arrived, but its huge body remained tense and nervous, ears twitching at the slightest sound.
John sat down on the ground directly in front of the cell and, because he didn’t know what to do otherwise, began to tell Ronon about Lorne’s report and Teyla’s conclusions. The wolf - Ronon, John reminded himself again – didn’t turn its eyes from John as he talked. He kept staring at him, until the sound of steps interrupted John’s monologue.
“Oh.” Rodney paled slightly when he saw the size of the wolf, and John remembered that Rodney hadn’t seen Ronon in this form yet. Rodney determinedly lifted his chin and stepped further into the room.
“There you are,” he said and stiffly sat down next to John, not without making a few sounds of pain and discomfort, as if his knees were thirty years older than they really were.
John gave him a smirk. “Getting old, McKay?”
Rodney glared at him. “You are older than I am, Sheppard,” he pointed out irritably. “Why didn’t we bring any chairs here?”
“McKay,” John opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of anything to say and quickly closed it again.
“What are you doing here, anyways?” Rodney asked him. “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, turn into a bat and fly around the spires of Atlantis?”
“McKay!”
“Or listen to Johnny Cash and be all…emo or what vampires do nowadays?”
This time, John just glared at him, but it didn’t impress Rodney in the slightest. He just shifted around and finally sighed. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing,” John replied defensively. “I’m just…telling Ronon about the briefing. The Wraithhunters and everything.” He shrugged embarrassedly.
“I know it isn’t a huge difference to his usual Wookie-like appearance, but you know that he is a wolf, right?” Rodney asked.
“Really? I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t told me,” John replied sarcastically.
“He doesn’t understand you,” Rodney pointed out. “You could read him the Air Force regulations and he wouldn’t know better.” He fell silent for a moment as he thought. “Unless it’s just about hearing your voice and knowing he’s not alone.” He tilted his head to the side. “He seems to listen to you, but my cat always pretended to listen to me as well, in the hope that he’d get a treat. Have you tried giving him a treat yet?”
“Rodney,” John ground out. “This is Ronon and not some stray cat we’re talking about.”
Rodney hunched up his shoulders, and John exhaled again, in not quite a sigh. His patience was running thin already.
“You think these Wraithhunters can be a valuable ally?” Rodney asked after a few moments.
John shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe. Not if they don’t understand us in this form. We’ve never heard of these Wraithhunters before, we don’t know what they can do…I don’t know.”
Rodney snorted dismissively. “No matter how good they are, I bet Ronon is better,” he declared.
The wolf, John thought, seemed to grin at that.
He still seemed to grin when Teyla slipped in a few minutes later.
~*+*~
“Sheppard.”
John stepped back from the door and let Ronon in. “I see they let you go,” he said and grinned.
“You want to run?” Ronon asked and raised both eyebrows. “Unless you’re too busy with writing your name.” He’d seen the laptop behind John’s shoulder and knew that John had been busy with paperwork.
“No,” John hastily said and closed his laptop. “Let’s run.” He stretched before collecting his work-out clothes and disappearing in his bathroom.
Ronon followed him slowly. “Hey,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest, and John felt sweat pool in his palms at the sound. A shiver ran down his spine, and he fumbled with his shirt to hide it.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Thank you.” Ronon leaned against the wall and shrugged with one shoulder as John turned to look at him with a confused frown.
“What for?”
“Being there.” He smirked. “Tell McKay that if he tries to give me dog food, I’ll bite his arm off, okay?”
John froze. “You…heard us?” he asked disbelievingly. “You…understood?”
Ronon shrugged. “It’s a little…fuzzy,” he admitted. “But yeah. Every word you said.” He exhaled. “Wraithhunters, huh?”
“That’s what Lorne said,” John replied and reached blindly for his shoes. “You ever heard of those guys?”
Ronon nodded. “Everyone has,” he replied. “They’re the best at what they do – hunting Wraith and killing them.”
“So…you think we should go back, try to get them to work with us?” He hastily knotted the laces of his shoes and stood.
Ronon shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “But first, we run.” He grinned again. “And fuck.”
John snorted. “All right,” he muttered. He had a lot to think about, but Ronon was right – first, they would run. Everything else could wait until they had done that.
Grabbing the personal shield from his desk, he nodded at Ronon. “Let’s go.”
~*+*~
The door chime sounded, and John rolled off his bed and went to open the door, one hand hovering cautiously over his gun. It was a habit he couldn’t and didn’t want to shake, but as soon as he realized who was on the other side of the door, he relaxed and took a step back.
“I see you’re back,” he said lamely and went to sit on the edge of the bed. It was a stupid thing to say – he had been there when Ronon had returned to Atlantis, almost an hour ago.
“Yeah.” Ronon waited until the door closed behind him before sitting down next to him. “Came back just in time for the third full moon this month.”
John grimaced. “Sucks to live on a planet with five moons, huh?” he muttered and folded his hands between his knees.
Ronon smirked and gave him a sideways glance. “Teyla thinks so, too.” He shrugged slightly. “The Wraithhunters have a fruit that eases the pain of transformation. They’re willing to trade it for other foodstuffs or for someone who actually has hands during the full moon and can set off some bombs in a joint operation.”
“Did you bring a sample?” John asked, carefully ignoring the second part of Ronon’s statement, and allowed himself to soak in the warmth of Ronon’s body, seeping through the layers of clothes between them. Ronon’s body temperature had gone up a few degrees since he’d been bitten, and John, whose temperature had gone down a few degrees after he had been turned into a vampire, enjoyed Ronon’s proximity more than he probably should.
“Yeah,” Ronon said. “Gave it to Parrish. He muttered something about ketchup and myths and took off with it.”
John blinked. “Ketchup?” he echoed, but he decided the same moment that he would ask the botanist about that later, or maybe Major Lorne. Lorne worked with Parrish, he could explain to John in small words what exactly Ronon had brought back.
“Yeah.” Ronon’s arm came up, his fingertips brushing against John’s wrist. “Want to fuck?”
John’s breath caught in his throat, and he stiffened slightly. It was a completely irrational reaction, he was perfectly aware of that, but he couldn’t help himself. They were alone, unobserved, safe – as safe as they could be in a galaxy full of vampires, werewolves and life-sucking aliens – and he knew by now that Ronon’s libido was somewhat linked to the moon. The fuller it was, the hornier the werewolf got.
“Come on,” Ronon rumbled. His thumb rasped against the stubble along John’s jaw line with a quiet sound that seemed to reverberate through every inch of John’s body.
He shuddered and sucked in a shaky breath.
“Yeah?” Ronon murmured. His hand moved downward, his fingertips grazing the hollow of John’s throat, the side of his chest and his stomach lightly. “You want it too?”
John nodded mutely. A rush of arousal filled him and made his toes and fingertips tingle in excitement. It was intense, almost too intense, and he gasped and reached for Ronon himself, his finger clenching tightly in the Satedan’s roughly woven shirt.
Ronon grinned and pressed his entire body against John, pushing him backward until John was on his back across the entire width of the bed, Ronon covering him completely and their lips pressed together in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Ronon tasted of exotic spices; his tongue was quick, wet and agile in John’s mouth, and John suddenly ached to feel that tongue on other parts of his body.
The sensations caused by that thought alone almost threatened to overwhelm him, and he broke away from the kiss with a grunt and arched his back, to press the hard line of his cock under his pants against Ronon’s thigh.
Ronon pulled back slightly and tugged his shirt up over his head. “Want you to fuck me,” he said, his voice sounding rough and breathless. “Hard.”
John’s throat was suddenly too dry for him to form words. He simply put his teeth against Ronon’s shoulder, fitting the against Ronon’s collarbone, careful not to break the skin.
He had already eaten.
There was no need to spill any blood.
His fingers fumbled with Ronon’s pants, still unfamiliar with them and too aroused for a coordinated attempt of undoing the strings holding them up. Ronon wasn’t feeling differently about his pants, if the way he was yanking at John’s belt was an indicator.
John took a deep, deliberate breath and consciously slowed down. He ignored Ronon’s growl and took his time figuring out the fastenings of Ronon’s pants.
Ronon grunted. “What’s wrong?” he asked and pressed his palm against the prominent bulge in John’s pants.
“Nothing.” John shook his head and arched his back again, pressing himself against Ronon’s clever fingers.
“Why did you slow down, then?” Ronon wanted to know and lifted his hips, to wriggle out of his remaining clothes.
John shook his head again and crawled from under him to take off his own pants and to retrieve the lube from its hiding place. He urged Ronon on all fours with a few touches and fewer words and prepared him while staring at Ronon’s smooth back.
Rodney’s work, he knew – Rodney had removed the scars when he had been ascending, leaving only smooth, soft skin behind, skin that gleamed like a precious coin under Atlantis’ warm lights.
Ronon’s muscles moved under his skin, effortless like a panther or any other big predator – sleek and dangerous, strong and powerful.
John reached down with his free hand and wrapped it around the base of his own dick. It sent a pleasant shock through his system, and John twisted the fingers he’d pushed into Ronon the way he’d found out Ronon enjoyed the most.
“You ready?” he croaked, even if he knew exactly how Ronon was going to answer that question.
As he’d expected, Ronon turned his head and gave him a look over his shoulder that rivaled Rodney’s most scornful expression while baring his teeth in a growl.
It was all John needed to know.
He still took his time, scissoring his fingers one last time before pulling them free. Sweat was prickling the back of his knees as he inched closer, his erection slowly sinking into Ronon’s body.
Ronon grunted softly and arched his back. “You know,” he managed to say, “when this is over, with the full moons, I want to do this to you.” He gasped softly. “Spread you out and show you a good time. Wolfmen have…stamina.”
John shuddered at the words and picked up the speed of his thrusts. One hand sneaked around Ronon’s slim hips and closed around his dick, squeezing it rhythmically.
“You’d like it,” Ronon continued after a while and turned his head to the side. “I’d make you…”
John snorted a breathless laugh. “The job as negotiator makes you talk more, huh?” he murmured into Ronon’s warm, sweaty back. He didn’t want to hear what Ronon wanted to do to him. He feared it would make him come on the spot, and he wanted to draw this out as long as possible.
Ronon pushed back into John’s thrusts. His movements started to get frantic, and desperate, and John knew he was balancing on the edge of his control, almost ready to let go and fall. He angled his hips upward, to push harder into Ronon, and picked up the speed of his hand.
A gasping sob, almost inaudible, and Ronon’s body convulsed under John’s. Warm wetness covered his fingers and dripped onto his sheets.
John’s hips buckled as the intensity of Ronon’s orgasm travelled through both their bodies. He grabbed Ronon’s hips and held him still while chasing his own release, until he tumbled over the same razor-sharp edge Ronon had fallen over and into bliss.
Breathing heavily, he remained plastered against Ronon’s body and allowed himself to feel the other man move under him.
“I never saw you as the negotiating kind,” he finally said, when he could trust his voice not to shake anymore.
Ronon chuckled. “Me neither. That’s Teyla’s job.”
John slowly pulled out and collapsed in a sprawled heap of tangled limbs next to Ronon.
“She can have it back,” Ronon added after rolling onto his back.
“She says we’re well-connected now,” John murmured. “Alliances with all the major players. Genii, Travellers, Zubbi, Wraithhunters…”
“I know.” Ronon turned to his side and scratched his blunt nails through John’s chest hair. “She told me too.”
“Really?” John’s eyebrows shot up. As far as he knew, Ronon had been off-world for the past few days, negotiating with the Wraithhunters, and Teyla had been on New Athos, to check in with her people.
Ronon shrugged with one shoulder. “I asked her to teach the Wraithhunters some meditation.” A pause. “It helps with the pain.”
John was silent. He didn’t know what to tell Ronon about that – there wasn’t anything he could say without sounding like an ass, he knew. He didn’t know how it was, having to transform into a wolf every time the full moons came up, and since Atlantis’ current planet had five moons, it was a lot of transformations to go through. Having to spend the night in a holding cell due to the violent outbursts the wolf was apparently prone to couldn’t be fun either. Ronon apparently was aware of what was happening around him when he was in his second form, but he couldn’t always control himself. The two full moons they had gone through already, he’d been aggressive, scratching at the edges of the energy field surrounding the holding cell, and growling and howling angrily.
“There’s this story,” Ronon suddenly said. “A Satedan legend. Very old. Of Jarn, the Wolfwarrior.”
He fell silent again, but John knew him well enough not to push him, and so he waited until Ronon had collected his thoughts and continued on his own.
“He already was a strong warrior when he got bitten by a wolfman and transformed. The legend says that killing the wolfman who bites you will make you return to your original form, so Jarn set out to find him.”
John nodded slowly. “What happened?” he asked.
Ronon’s lips twisted. “On Sateda, the story says Jarn killed many Wraith on his quest. He travelled a lot, saw a lot of other planets, but the Wraith killed him before he could find the wolfman who had done this to him.”
He gave John a mirthless chuckle. “Turns out the Wraithhunters know the legend of Jarn too. Only they say the wolfman who turned Jarn wasn’t a man, but a woman. When he tracked her down, he fell in love with her and couldn’t do it. So…he stayed with her for a while and then brought her home, to Sateda, and they spent many years fighting the Wraith side by side.”
Again, he fell silent. John didn’t know why Ronon had shared this story with him, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to tell him. Teyla probably would know, but she wasn’t here to help him.
Ronon sighed and sat up. “I think I like that story better,” he admitted. “Killing the woman wouldn’t have helped him anyway. This way, there was still hope for him. Love.”
“Hey.” John sat up as well and nudged Ronon with his elbow. “You still have us. The team. Atlantis. We’re still there for you. No matter what.” He grimaced. “You think I like being a vampire? I wish Keller would find a cure, too, and maybe she or Carson will, one day. There still is hope. Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe Rodney can figure something out. He’s pretty smart, you know?”
He was babbling now, and he knew immediately that his attempt of joking about McKay to diffuse the somber mood between them had fallen flat when Ronon simply snorted.
“If he’s that smart,” he pointed out, “He shouldn’t even try making a dog collar. Or talk about it.”
John smirked and glanced at the personal shield Rodney had modified for him. “Knowing Rodney, it would be a pretty cool dog collar. With invisibility built in, or death rays, or something.”
Ronon looked intrigued for a moment, but then, he shook his head. “No.”
“I’ll talk to him, okay?” John promised, but he couldn’t hold back a grin.
“Yeah.” Ronon stood and started to sort through the clothes strewn over the floor. “I should go.”
“I’ll talk to Woolsey, too,” John added and followed Ronon’s example. “It’s not okay that you should have to spend the night in the cell. You don’t even have a…” He stopped mid-sentence and froze, one leg in his pants already.
Ronon gave him an amused glance. “Don’t even have a…?” he prompted, the way he’d seen Lorne do it.
John hastily pulled his pants up and buckled his belt before he went to one of the hidden compartments where he kept his belongings. He knew exactly what he was looking for – the blanket Teyla had given him for Christmas. It was warm, soft and colorful, a piece of Athosian art, and John usually used it to wrap up in whenever he came back from the infirmary and needed some extra warmth and comfort to battle the pains and aches.
“Besides, it’s okay,” Ronon said quietly. “There’s something missing, I can’t stop myself sometimes when I’m like that. Don’t want to hurt anyone here.”
John shook his head and grabbed the blanket. He was sure Teyla wouldn’t mind if he gave it to Ronon for the night.
“Take this,” he said, and pushed the bundle of fabric into Ronon’s arms. “You can give it back in the morning, when…” He blushed and stopped himself. “When you come by for our run,” he finished lamely.
Ronon hesitantly ran his fingertips over the fabric. “Thank you,” he murmured roughly. “I – I better go.”
He had finished dressing while John had looked for the blanket, and now, he was turning around and heading toward the door.
A glance at the watch on John’s wrist told him that the sun would go down soon.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ll stop by later.”
Ronon gave him a half-smile over his shoulder and left.
~*+*~
It was the middle of the night when John slipped into the room, fully expecting the huge wolf in the cell pacing and growling, as he’d done the past two full moons. This was the third time they were going through this, and each time Ronon had transformed two nights into the wolf – and each night he had spent in this cell. He’d always been twitchy and pacing and growling when John had arrived, and John had spent hours sitting there and talking until his voice was hoarse and the wolf had calmed down and had settled down somewhat.
However, tonight, everything was quiet.
John swallowed against the bad feeling that was leaving his stomach and crawling up into his throat and stepped more fully into the room, expecting the worst and hoping, against all odds, that he was wrong.
The wolf was sleeping peacefully. It had curled up in one of the corners of the cell, a big dark lump of fur on a splash of color.
John’s blanket.
Ronon was sleeping.
John stood for a moment, frozen in his spot, and just stared, but then, he whirled around and left just as quietly as he’d arrived.
He was halfway down the hallway when he reached for his radio. “Rodney, come in.”
Silence.
John bit back a curse. It was late; maybe Rodney had, for once, actually gone to bed – John vaguely remembered something about a date with Jennifer that night, and he shook his head slightly.
He couldn’t be considerate of Rodney’s love life right now, he decided as he guided his steps toward Rodney’s room. He needed the insights of Rodney’s scary huge brain. Rodney had figured out what had happened when John had been turned into a vampire; he would know what was happening now, too.
~*+*~
It didn’t mean he wanted to see Rodney dressed in just a pair of boxer shorts that had smiley faces printed on them, but at least it wasn’t the blueprints of a death star, he thought quietly. Rodney had refused to let him into his room, saying that Jennifer was sleeping and there was no way he’d let John – a sex vampire – near his naked girlfriend. As a result, they were standing in front of Rodney’s laptop in the thankfully empty science lab with Rodney mostly naked, shifting from foot to foot and shivering occasionally. He looked miserable enough that John almost started to regret waking him up.
“You know I’m the completely wrong person to ask this, right?” Rodney grumbled and pressed a few keys. “I’m not even a dog person, how should I know what is going on with him?”
“Rodney,” John said patiently – as patiently as he could. “He’s acting weird.”
“Weird, huh?” Rodney pressed another key and the feed from the security camera showed up on his screen. “He’s sleeping, Sheppard. How is that weird? And if it really is that weird, can I go back and be weird, too?”
“You think it is because of the fruit he brought back?”
Rodney almost jumped out of his skin at the unexpected sound of another voice and tried, without much success, to appear dignified – as dignified as an almost naked man in cheerful boxers who had not just squeaked like a scared little kid could be. After a moment, he gave up and tried to hide behind Sheppard instead.
“Teyla.” John sounded unfazed. “What are you doing here?”
Teyla gave him a look and tipped her head to the side. “I was returning to my room when I met Jennifer. She told me that you had, as she put it, run away to check something out and scare the entire population of Atlantis. She asked me to give you this and tell you that she went to bed. Her bed.”
She held out a neatly folded bundle of clothes that Rodney recognized as his, and he hastily grabbed them and started to put them on. He was getting really cold.
Teyla turned her attention toward John. “So – what are you two doing that scares the entire population of Atlantis?”
John frowned and hunched his shoulders. “Ronon is acting strange,” he said and nodded toward the screen that showed the same scene it had before. “And I don’t know if it’s because of the fruits he brought back.”
“It’s a tomato,” Rodney called out from within his t-shirt. He struggled to get his arms in the sleeves. “I saw Lorne and Parrish at dinner when you guys didn’t show up, and Parrish said it was a tomato.” His head emerged. “So – a vegetable, not a fruit. Unless you believe Parrish, but then, he’s a botanist. They’re all…strange.”
“He seemed fine this afternoon when he asked for my help with the negotiations,” Teyla pointed out and frowned. “Is that your blanket he is sleeping on?”
John hunched his shoulders defensively again. “I gave it to him for the night,” he admitted. “When he asked me if, uh, if I wanted to run with him in the morning.”
He shifted nervously on his feet. He hated lying to his team, but, he told himself, Ronon and he really had talked about running in the morning, so it wasn’t a lie, technically. It still didn’t make him feel better, but he couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth, not even Rodney and Teyla, who, he knew, would die before they gave his secret away.
“Wait a second.” Rodney snapped his fingers as his thoughts started racing. “What is a wolf’s strongest sense?”
John shrugged. “Smell?” he guessed.
Rodney pointed at him. “Exactly.”
“And?”
Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. “And? Do I look like a veterinarian to you? I have no idea if the same is true for wolfmen! I’m speculating here!”
“Ronon did complain about an increased sense of smell,” Teyla pointed out. “Especially around the time of the full moon.”
“And if smells take the same role for wolfmen as for normal wolves…” Rodney shook his head slowly. “The energy field of the cells doesn’t allow smells to get through.”
John stared at him. “So…he’s aggressive because he doesn’t smell anything?”
“Because he didn’t smell someone in particular,” Rodney corrected. “I think.”
“But he calmed down when he heard our voices,” John pointed out.
Rodney shook his head. “Not sure it’s all of us or just you.”
“What?” John yelped.
Rodney gave him a look that told John exactly how dense the scientist thought he was. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, but John couldn’t think clearly. His mind was still stuck on what Rodney had said, and what he could have meant…
“Rodney?” Teyla prompted.
“Sheppard is his alpha,” Rodney pointed out with a long-suffering sigh. “Team leader? The man in command?”
“Oh.” John felt the tips of his ears prickle with embarrassment about his brief but thankfully silent freak-out. He had jumped to conclusions – Rodney didn’t know anything about him and Ronon.
Rodney gave him a disgusted look he usually reserved for Wraith and citrus fruits.
“I do believe he will remain calm for everyone he considers part of his family. His friends,” Teyla said quietly. “He told me a story about a Satedan legend – Jarn the Wolfwarrior, a brave fighter who protected his platoon until his last breath.”
John’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Apparently, there was more than one story about that particular legend, and Ronon had told Teyla another one than John had heard.
“Yeah,” Rodney pointed out and tried to flatten down his hair without much success. “But wasn’t it that legend that told him he’d be fine as long as he killed the wolfman who bit him, too?”
“Well,” John said and crossed his arms over his chest. “Only one way to figure out if this one is more than a legend.”
“The Wraithhunters are said to be very loyal people,” Teyla added. “But I am not sure if we should not talk to Mr. Woolsey or Dr. Keller first.”
“No time,” John said and glanced at his watch. “We can always tell them later.”
Rodney muttered under his breath, but he was already powering his laptop down.
“Listen,” John said into the sudden silence. “I’m going in there alone – if our theory is wrong…”
“Shut up,” Rodney snapped. “You are not going to risk your life without us being there to save your ass! That’s not how this works!”
Ronon isn’t going to do anything to me,” John protested. “He didn’t try to eat me last time, either.”
“In that case, there is no reason for us not to go with you,” Teyla said firmly.
“Right.” Rodney closed the laptop and took it. “You coming, or what?”
John hesitated.
“Listen,” Rodney said quietly. “Sooner or later, we’ll get caught off-world when the moon is coming up. I’d rather know that I won’t get eaten by an oversized wild dog now, and we can’t keep him locked up in that cell forever, or he’ll, I don’t know, join those stupid villagers on one of their kamikaze runs and gets killed in one of their reckless attacks on the Wraith and I really doubt that anyone here wants that to happen.” He shrugged. “Ronon is a friend, okay?” And there is no way I can think of turning him back to the scary Ronon we had before, just like there is no way we can turn you back – “ He stopped and waved a hand.
John flinched. He hadn’t given up the hope that one day, Keller or Carson would come up with a cure for his condition, no matter how small the probability of that happening was.
“Anyways,” Rodney continued, his voice soft, “he is aware of what is happening, even when he’s…” he waved his hand again. “…Chewbacca,” he finally said. “We should…we should show a little trust in him.”
“Rodney…” John started, but he found himself overwhelmed with affection for Rodney, despite his many grating habits. “You sure?”
Rodney’s chin came up. “No,” he admitted. “And we should go now before I realize what exactly I just said.”
“You said something very brave and wise,” Teyla assured him and put her hand on Rodney’s arm, and together they left the lab in silence, until Rodney started to complain about his cold feet.
~*+*~
“You know,” Rodney said and took a bite of his sandwich, “You are a lot bigger than you look on the screen of a laptop or through an energy shield.”
Ronon rumbled a pleased growl from somewhere deep in his chest and nudged Rodney with his cold, wet nose before stealing the brownie off his tray.
“Hey!” Rodney yelped. “That was mine!”
Ronon grinned and tilted his head to the side while wagging his tail slightly.
John hid his grin behind the rim of his cup – a blend of Teyla’s and Radek’s blood, he thought, almost at a perfect temperature, but not quite – and stretched out his legs. Breaking Ronon out of the holding cell had been ridiculously easy, and if any of the early risers or late stragglers who came stumbling into the cafeteria were surprised by the sight of the three of them and the gigantic wolf, they didn’t show it, for which John was grateful.
But then, this was Atlantis and Pegasus galaxy, and they were dealing with weird things regularly.
A werewolf wasn’t that much of an exception of their daily lives, apparently.
Ronon yipped and stood. He stretched and yawned, and John realized it was close to dawn.
He nodded. “I’ll come with you to your room, in case someone gets a little trigger-happy,” he explained and stood as well. He nodded at Teyla and Rodney and followed Ronon out.
“That went…surprisingly well,” Rodney commented and stretched his arms over his head. “And if you excuse me…I’m going to go to bed now.”
Teyla bowed her head. “Very well,” she said. “As will I.”
“Good night, then,” Rodney said. He hesitated for a split second, but then he stood and left without saying another word.
Teyla’s lips curved into a fond smile as she slowly followed his example.
Things, she felt, would be all right.
~*+*~
It had to happen sooner or later, John thought as he picked up Ronon’s gun, his boots, and his pants. Rodney had said so, and he’d figured out the probabilities himself a few times.
“Ronon? You okay, buddy?” he asked.
The huge wolf whimpered softly and shook himself before growling and scratching one of his ears with a paw.
“Everything okay, then,” Rodney said and patted Ronon’s shoulder briefly. “That shirt is ruined, though.” Nobody mentioned the transformation process, which looked, in John’s opinion, very painful. He didn’t even want to think about going through it, again and again.
“I believe so, too.” Teyla reached out, grabbed the wolf’s mane and touched her forehead to his. “Shall we continue, then?”
“Yeah.” John pushed Ronon’s gun into his jacket and made sure it wouldn’t fall out. “Let’s go home.”
“I bet we could ride on Ronon,” Rodney muttered thoughtfully. “Or he could at least carry our stuff.”
Ronon made a growly sound they all recognized, and John tangled his fingers in the fur of Ronon’s shoulder as they continued on their way. The full moon shone quietly and peacefully down on them, illuminating the winding path to the Stargate.
Suddenly, Rodney chuckled.
“John is a sex vampire, Ronon is a werewolf,” he said. “And you, Teyla – you’re some kind of Xena. With Wraith DNA.”
John grinned. “You’re an astrophysicist,” he pointed out. “That’s even weirder than vampires, werewolves and Wraith DNA put together.”
“We’re a freak show,” Rodney declared. He sounded surprisingly cheerful about it.
John thought about it for a moment. “Next planet, it’s your turn,” he drawled. “Zombies. Zombies only want you for your brain.”
Rodney shuddered and whimpered quietly, but before he could say anything, Ronon howled softly.
“Yes,” Teyla said. “I agree with Ronon. We will protect you from those zombies, Rodney.”
John felt himself smiling. He didn’t even try to stop it.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said. “We look out for each other, right?”
“Right,” Rodney replied, quietly and earnestly. “We do.”
They were a team, after all.
A family.
It was a weird, dysfunctional family, but no matter what would happen – Wraith, vampires, werewolves, zombies – they would deal with it.
Together.
~end.
“He shouldn’t have to,” John argued. “He can just as well stay in his room for the night.”
“It’s just for the night, Colonel,” Jennifer answered, her patience thinning. “And it’s for his own safety. We were expecting anything to happen last night, and still, he managed to overwhelm the guards and escape. How many of your men do you think will shoot first and ask questions later when they are confronted by a huge wolf somewhere in this city?”
“She’s right.” Ronon looked up from his bare toes. He was the only one who was sitting; Jennifer was standing behind her desk and John was pacing next to Ronon, too agitated to stay still. He could almost taste the tension in the room, it was so thick, and, like a film of an oily substance, it was heavy on his tongue and in his throat. He’d spent most of the day sleeping or dozing, exhausted from the changes his body had gone through, but every time he had been awake, he had contemplated his situation and he had come to a similar result as Jennifer. He didn’t like it – he hated being locked up – but he knew that it was his best option. He didn’t want to get shot by his own people.
“Besides, Woolsey ordered it,” Jennifer added quickly.
John sat down with a small growl. He was moving very slowly and very deliberately, a clear sign of how much not okay he was with the situation.
“It’s just for the nights, until we have figured out how often and how long Ronon changes,” Jennifer said by way of explanation. “We don’t know anything about this…wolfman thing. We need more information before we can make a real decision. You know that, Colonel.”
Ronon sniffed. “Relax,” he said and nudged John with his knee. “You smell like you’re just begging to get the hell kicked out of you.” He tilted his head to the side and smirked, and for a reason Jennifer didn’t know, the tips of John’s ears turned a bright shade of red – a similar shade to his burned arms.
“Besides,” Ronon added and fixed his eyes on Jennifer. They were burning with an intensity that almost scared her. It looked somehow…inhuman and served as a reminder that Ronon now was a werewolf. “It’s just for one night, right?”
“Until we’ve figured out if you’re a danger to anyone,” she replied hastily. “But only for the nights. You’re good to go by day. As soon as you turn back to yourself, you can leave.”
Ronon nodded once, a thoughtful expression on his face, and stood. “Okay, then.”
He turned around to leave, and unsurprisingly, John quickly followed him out.
The good thing about being a wolfman, Ronon thought with grim amusement, was that his senses, even now, were much more sensitive. He could smell the anger, the worry, the attraction John was feeling, and it gave him a much clearer understanding of what John was really thinking behind his carefully constructed mask of laid-back, easy going Colonel Sheppard.
The bad thing, on the other hand, was that his senses were much more sensitive, and when they walked past the chemistry lab, he almost gagged and hastily quickened his step.
Finally, they reached the gym. This time of the day, it was quiet there, almost deserted, and the two Marines sparring on the other side of the room gave them a respectful nod and left them alone.
Ronon waited until it was just the two of them and then reached for John. John stiffened as if Ronon had just insulted his entire planet, however, Ronon was stronger and much more determined. He wouldn’t let that stiffness stop him.
“Hey,” he said again and tugged John close. “What’s wrong?”
“This. The whole situation. It sucks.” John frowned. He was feeling helpless and he hated it.
Ronon’s thumbs dug into his shoulders. “Don’t,” he said gruffly and sniffed. He could tell that John had showered, that his elbow had brushed against Lorne earlier in the day, that he’d sparred with Teyla, and he could detect the faint, but familiar smell underneath all that.
Him.
John smelled like him.
He’d tried to wash it off, but it still was there, without a doubt.
“What?” John asked in irritation and peered up at him.
Ronon smirked. “You really don’t have a lot of sex for a sex vampire,” he replied, and then, he let his head dip down and pressed his mouth to John’s.
John made a choking noise and nipped on Ronon’s tongue, and the small pain was sharp enough to make him pull back.
“Not here,” John hissed and looked over his shoulder. Ronon pulled back slightly and reached for the bantos rods leaning against the close wall.
“Nobody’s here,” he pointed out, but the tension in John’s shoulders wasn’t only in his scent, but visible now, and Ronon knew it would be wise to back off now.
“I told you, nobody will hear it from me,” he said quietly, but John didn’t react. He took the rods from Ronon’s fingers and twirled them.
Ronon grabbed a second pair and took position opposite John. “Doctor Keller said the change wreaks havoc on my hormones,” he said after a moment of tense silence.
John’s lips twitched slightly as he feigned an attack. “Hormones, huh?” he replied and jumped back again.
“That’s what she says.” Ronon grinned a little and began to circle John. “Wanna stop by my quarters tomorrow morning and help me get them back in order?”
He watched John’s eyes narrow slightly, but he didn’t give him time to reply. Instead, he started his own attack, and for the next few minutes, John was busy trying to defend himself against him. Ronon only stopped his attack when John was flat on his back.
“What do you say?” he asked and stretched out his hand, to help him back to his feet.
“Sure,” John panted and got ready for another round.
Ronon circled him again. John was moving with him, his eyes focused on every little move Ronon made.
“I don’t think I want you to see me change,” he abruptly said and launched another attack on John.
John hastily jumped back. “What? Why not?” he managed to ask.
Ronon shrugged one shoulder. “I saw that security tape,” he pointed out. “Looks pretty horrible. Bones breaking and fusing together, all that. I don’t want you to watch that.”
John frowned, but he nodded. “All right, buddy. No peeking. I got it.” He attacked Ronon suddenly, but he had no trouble defending himself against John.
“Okay,” he simply said and knocked John down again.
~*+*~
By the time the sun was setting over Atlantis and the first moon came up, full and round and pale, Ronon was in a holding cell and John was in the conference room with Rodney, Teyla and Lorne.
“They found this body yesterday,” Lorne reported and showed them a picture of a corpse.
Rodney made a faint gagging sound, and John felt himself stiffen. He’d seen that man before, and even if it had been dark then and lying in a field for two weeks hadn’t been kind to the man, there was no doubt who it was.
“A hunting accident, they say,” Lorne said. “Besides him, every villager is accounted for.”
“A hunting accident?” Rodney asked, disbelief coloring his voice. “What was he hunting that required of him to turn into a gigantic wolf? Innocent travelers?”
“No,” Teyla replied, a hard edge in her voice. “Wraith.”
For a long moment they were silent, then Rodney asked in a faint voice, “Wait, what?”
“I believe,” Teyla said, her voice controlled and calm, “that we have found the Wraithhunters.” She glanced into their confused faces and added, “Mysterious wolfmen warriors who are well-known for fighting the Wraith. They probably are most like the ninjas in the movies you showed me.” She gave John a brief nod.
“What makes you think this guy is a ninja werewolf?” Rodney asked, his forehead furrowed. “He wasn’t very ninja about attacking Ronon.”
“They are very secretive about their actions,” Teyla said. “I did not see it when we encountered this man on the planet, but he bears the mark of the Wraithhunters.” She pointed at the picture. “See, there?”
On the inside of the man’s left wrist, barely visible in the photograph, was a faint scar in the shape of a hand.
John inhaled sharply. “Great,” he muttered. “We killed a Wraith-hunting werewolf ninja. I just hope the others don’t want retaliation.”
Lorne shifted. “Sir,” he said, a serious tone in his voice. “I believe all of the villagers have that mark…at least the adults.”
Silence fell over them once again.
“Oh, great,” Rodney said. “We found the planet of the Wraith-hunting werewolf ninjas. And we promised to help them with their water supply.”
~*+*~
After he left the conference room, John wandered aimlessly through Atlantis, twitchy and nervous about the new revelation. It took him a while to figure out that he also was nervous because of Ronon, and because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ramifications of the wolfmen finding out that it had been the Lanteans who had killed one of their own.
The thought of Ronon being in danger was almost unbearable to him, even if he knew perfectly well that Ronon was capable of defending himself, no matter what body he was in.
Finally, he gave up and went to the holding cell, to see how Ronon was doing.
In the bright light, the wolf looked even more massive than he had the night before, when it had been dark and all John had been able to make out were schemes and shadows. The wolf’s ears were flat against its head, its teeth revealed in a growl. The wolf was pacing the confines of its cell on gigantic paws. His fur gleamed in the light, a glossy dark brown that looked almost black.
John exhaled – he hadn’t even noticed that he’d held his breath at the sight of his friend in this form. “Hey, buddy,” he greeted and took a step toward the cell. “How are you holding up?”
The wolf’s ears slowly twitched toward him, and John took another step forward as yellow eyes focused on him.
“Hey, buddy,” he said again and watched as the wolf copied his actions on the other side of the energy barrier and took a step toward him.
“Ronon?”
The wolf whimpered, as if he had understood John, and slowly sat down on his hind legs.
“This sucks,” John muttered, and the whimpering sound he got from the wolf sounded like agreement. The animal didn’t seem to be as agitated as it had been when John had arrived, but its huge body remained tense and nervous, ears twitching at the slightest sound.
John sat down on the ground directly in front of the cell and, because he didn’t know what to do otherwise, began to tell Ronon about Lorne’s report and Teyla’s conclusions. The wolf - Ronon, John reminded himself again – didn’t turn its eyes from John as he talked. He kept staring at him, until the sound of steps interrupted John’s monologue.
“Oh.” Rodney paled slightly when he saw the size of the wolf, and John remembered that Rodney hadn’t seen Ronon in this form yet. Rodney determinedly lifted his chin and stepped further into the room.
“There you are,” he said and stiffly sat down next to John, not without making a few sounds of pain and discomfort, as if his knees were thirty years older than they really were.
John gave him a smirk. “Getting old, McKay?”
Rodney glared at him. “You are older than I am, Sheppard,” he pointed out irritably. “Why didn’t we bring any chairs here?”
“McKay,” John opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of anything to say and quickly closed it again.
“What are you doing here, anyways?” Rodney asked him. “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, turn into a bat and fly around the spires of Atlantis?”
“McKay!”
“Or listen to Johnny Cash and be all…emo or what vampires do nowadays?”
This time, John just glared at him, but it didn’t impress Rodney in the slightest. He just shifted around and finally sighed. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing,” John replied defensively. “I’m just…telling Ronon about the briefing. The Wraithhunters and everything.” He shrugged embarrassedly.
“I know it isn’t a huge difference to his usual Wookie-like appearance, but you know that he is a wolf, right?” Rodney asked.
“Really? I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t told me,” John replied sarcastically.
“He doesn’t understand you,” Rodney pointed out. “You could read him the Air Force regulations and he wouldn’t know better.” He fell silent for a moment as he thought. “Unless it’s just about hearing your voice and knowing he’s not alone.” He tilted his head to the side. “He seems to listen to you, but my cat always pretended to listen to me as well, in the hope that he’d get a treat. Have you tried giving him a treat yet?”
“Rodney,” John ground out. “This is Ronon and not some stray cat we’re talking about.”
Rodney hunched up his shoulders, and John exhaled again, in not quite a sigh. His patience was running thin already.
“You think these Wraithhunters can be a valuable ally?” Rodney asked after a few moments.
John shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe. Not if they don’t understand us in this form. We’ve never heard of these Wraithhunters before, we don’t know what they can do…I don’t know.”
Rodney snorted dismissively. “No matter how good they are, I bet Ronon is better,” he declared.
The wolf, John thought, seemed to grin at that.
He still seemed to grin when Teyla slipped in a few minutes later.
~*+*~
“Sheppard.”
John stepped back from the door and let Ronon in. “I see they let you go,” he said and grinned.
“You want to run?” Ronon asked and raised both eyebrows. “Unless you’re too busy with writing your name.” He’d seen the laptop behind John’s shoulder and knew that John had been busy with paperwork.
“No,” John hastily said and closed his laptop. “Let’s run.” He stretched before collecting his work-out clothes and disappearing in his bathroom.
Ronon followed him slowly. “Hey,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest, and John felt sweat pool in his palms at the sound. A shiver ran down his spine, and he fumbled with his shirt to hide it.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Thank you.” Ronon leaned against the wall and shrugged with one shoulder as John turned to look at him with a confused frown.
“What for?”
“Being there.” He smirked. “Tell McKay that if he tries to give me dog food, I’ll bite his arm off, okay?”
John froze. “You…heard us?” he asked disbelievingly. “You…understood?”
Ronon shrugged. “It’s a little…fuzzy,” he admitted. “But yeah. Every word you said.” He exhaled. “Wraithhunters, huh?”
“That’s what Lorne said,” John replied and reached blindly for his shoes. “You ever heard of those guys?”
Ronon nodded. “Everyone has,” he replied. “They’re the best at what they do – hunting Wraith and killing them.”
“So…you think we should go back, try to get them to work with us?” He hastily knotted the laces of his shoes and stood.
Ronon shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “But first, we run.” He grinned again. “And fuck.”
John snorted. “All right,” he muttered. He had a lot to think about, but Ronon was right – first, they would run. Everything else could wait until they had done that.
Grabbing the personal shield from his desk, he nodded at Ronon. “Let’s go.”
~*+*~
The door chime sounded, and John rolled off his bed and went to open the door, one hand hovering cautiously over his gun. It was a habit he couldn’t and didn’t want to shake, but as soon as he realized who was on the other side of the door, he relaxed and took a step back.
“I see you’re back,” he said lamely and went to sit on the edge of the bed. It was a stupid thing to say – he had been there when Ronon had returned to Atlantis, almost an hour ago.
“Yeah.” Ronon waited until the door closed behind him before sitting down next to him. “Came back just in time for the third full moon this month.”
John grimaced. “Sucks to live on a planet with five moons, huh?” he muttered and folded his hands between his knees.
Ronon smirked and gave him a sideways glance. “Teyla thinks so, too.” He shrugged slightly. “The Wraithhunters have a fruit that eases the pain of transformation. They’re willing to trade it for other foodstuffs or for someone who actually has hands during the full moon and can set off some bombs in a joint operation.”
“Did you bring a sample?” John asked, carefully ignoring the second part of Ronon’s statement, and allowed himself to soak in the warmth of Ronon’s body, seeping through the layers of clothes between them. Ronon’s body temperature had gone up a few degrees since he’d been bitten, and John, whose temperature had gone down a few degrees after he had been turned into a vampire, enjoyed Ronon’s proximity more than he probably should.
“Yeah,” Ronon said. “Gave it to Parrish. He muttered something about ketchup and myths and took off with it.”
John blinked. “Ketchup?” he echoed, but he decided the same moment that he would ask the botanist about that later, or maybe Major Lorne. Lorne worked with Parrish, he could explain to John in small words what exactly Ronon had brought back.
“Yeah.” Ronon’s arm came up, his fingertips brushing against John’s wrist. “Want to fuck?”
John’s breath caught in his throat, and he stiffened slightly. It was a completely irrational reaction, he was perfectly aware of that, but he couldn’t help himself. They were alone, unobserved, safe – as safe as they could be in a galaxy full of vampires, werewolves and life-sucking aliens – and he knew by now that Ronon’s libido was somewhat linked to the moon. The fuller it was, the hornier the werewolf got.
“Come on,” Ronon rumbled. His thumb rasped against the stubble along John’s jaw line with a quiet sound that seemed to reverberate through every inch of John’s body.
He shuddered and sucked in a shaky breath.
“Yeah?” Ronon murmured. His hand moved downward, his fingertips grazing the hollow of John’s throat, the side of his chest and his stomach lightly. “You want it too?”
John nodded mutely. A rush of arousal filled him and made his toes and fingertips tingle in excitement. It was intense, almost too intense, and he gasped and reached for Ronon himself, his finger clenching tightly in the Satedan’s roughly woven shirt.
Ronon grinned and pressed his entire body against John, pushing him backward until John was on his back across the entire width of the bed, Ronon covering him completely and their lips pressed together in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Ronon tasted of exotic spices; his tongue was quick, wet and agile in John’s mouth, and John suddenly ached to feel that tongue on other parts of his body.
The sensations caused by that thought alone almost threatened to overwhelm him, and he broke away from the kiss with a grunt and arched his back, to press the hard line of his cock under his pants against Ronon’s thigh.
Ronon pulled back slightly and tugged his shirt up over his head. “Want you to fuck me,” he said, his voice sounding rough and breathless. “Hard.”
John’s throat was suddenly too dry for him to form words. He simply put his teeth against Ronon’s shoulder, fitting the against Ronon’s collarbone, careful not to break the skin.
He had already eaten.
There was no need to spill any blood.
His fingers fumbled with Ronon’s pants, still unfamiliar with them and too aroused for a coordinated attempt of undoing the strings holding them up. Ronon wasn’t feeling differently about his pants, if the way he was yanking at John’s belt was an indicator.
John took a deep, deliberate breath and consciously slowed down. He ignored Ronon’s growl and took his time figuring out the fastenings of Ronon’s pants.
Ronon grunted. “What’s wrong?” he asked and pressed his palm against the prominent bulge in John’s pants.
“Nothing.” John shook his head and arched his back again, pressing himself against Ronon’s clever fingers.
“Why did you slow down, then?” Ronon wanted to know and lifted his hips, to wriggle out of his remaining clothes.
John shook his head again and crawled from under him to take off his own pants and to retrieve the lube from its hiding place. He urged Ronon on all fours with a few touches and fewer words and prepared him while staring at Ronon’s smooth back.
Rodney’s work, he knew – Rodney had removed the scars when he had been ascending, leaving only smooth, soft skin behind, skin that gleamed like a precious coin under Atlantis’ warm lights.
Ronon’s muscles moved under his skin, effortless like a panther or any other big predator – sleek and dangerous, strong and powerful.
John reached down with his free hand and wrapped it around the base of his own dick. It sent a pleasant shock through his system, and John twisted the fingers he’d pushed into Ronon the way he’d found out Ronon enjoyed the most.
“You ready?” he croaked, even if he knew exactly how Ronon was going to answer that question.
As he’d expected, Ronon turned his head and gave him a look over his shoulder that rivaled Rodney’s most scornful expression while baring his teeth in a growl.
It was all John needed to know.
He still took his time, scissoring his fingers one last time before pulling them free. Sweat was prickling the back of his knees as he inched closer, his erection slowly sinking into Ronon’s body.
Ronon grunted softly and arched his back. “You know,” he managed to say, “when this is over, with the full moons, I want to do this to you.” He gasped softly. “Spread you out and show you a good time. Wolfmen have…stamina.”
John shuddered at the words and picked up the speed of his thrusts. One hand sneaked around Ronon’s slim hips and closed around his dick, squeezing it rhythmically.
“You’d like it,” Ronon continued after a while and turned his head to the side. “I’d make you…”
John snorted a breathless laugh. “The job as negotiator makes you talk more, huh?” he murmured into Ronon’s warm, sweaty back. He didn’t want to hear what Ronon wanted to do to him. He feared it would make him come on the spot, and he wanted to draw this out as long as possible.
Ronon pushed back into John’s thrusts. His movements started to get frantic, and desperate, and John knew he was balancing on the edge of his control, almost ready to let go and fall. He angled his hips upward, to push harder into Ronon, and picked up the speed of his hand.
A gasping sob, almost inaudible, and Ronon’s body convulsed under John’s. Warm wetness covered his fingers and dripped onto his sheets.
John’s hips buckled as the intensity of Ronon’s orgasm travelled through both their bodies. He grabbed Ronon’s hips and held him still while chasing his own release, until he tumbled over the same razor-sharp edge Ronon had fallen over and into bliss.
Breathing heavily, he remained plastered against Ronon’s body and allowed himself to feel the other man move under him.
“I never saw you as the negotiating kind,” he finally said, when he could trust his voice not to shake anymore.
Ronon chuckled. “Me neither. That’s Teyla’s job.”
John slowly pulled out and collapsed in a sprawled heap of tangled limbs next to Ronon.
“She can have it back,” Ronon added after rolling onto his back.
“She says we’re well-connected now,” John murmured. “Alliances with all the major players. Genii, Travellers, Zubbi, Wraithhunters…”
“I know.” Ronon turned to his side and scratched his blunt nails through John’s chest hair. “She told me too.”
“Really?” John’s eyebrows shot up. As far as he knew, Ronon had been off-world for the past few days, negotiating with the Wraithhunters, and Teyla had been on New Athos, to check in with her people.
Ronon shrugged with one shoulder. “I asked her to teach the Wraithhunters some meditation.” A pause. “It helps with the pain.”
John was silent. He didn’t know what to tell Ronon about that – there wasn’t anything he could say without sounding like an ass, he knew. He didn’t know how it was, having to transform into a wolf every time the full moons came up, and since Atlantis’ current planet had five moons, it was a lot of transformations to go through. Having to spend the night in a holding cell due to the violent outbursts the wolf was apparently prone to couldn’t be fun either. Ronon apparently was aware of what was happening around him when he was in his second form, but he couldn’t always control himself. The two full moons they had gone through already, he’d been aggressive, scratching at the edges of the energy field surrounding the holding cell, and growling and howling angrily.
“There’s this story,” Ronon suddenly said. “A Satedan legend. Very old. Of Jarn, the Wolfwarrior.”
He fell silent again, but John knew him well enough not to push him, and so he waited until Ronon had collected his thoughts and continued on his own.
“He already was a strong warrior when he got bitten by a wolfman and transformed. The legend says that killing the wolfman who bites you will make you return to your original form, so Jarn set out to find him.”
John nodded slowly. “What happened?” he asked.
Ronon’s lips twisted. “On Sateda, the story says Jarn killed many Wraith on his quest. He travelled a lot, saw a lot of other planets, but the Wraith killed him before he could find the wolfman who had done this to him.”
He gave John a mirthless chuckle. “Turns out the Wraithhunters know the legend of Jarn too. Only they say the wolfman who turned Jarn wasn’t a man, but a woman. When he tracked her down, he fell in love with her and couldn’t do it. So…he stayed with her for a while and then brought her home, to Sateda, and they spent many years fighting the Wraith side by side.”
Again, he fell silent. John didn’t know why Ronon had shared this story with him, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to tell him. Teyla probably would know, but she wasn’t here to help him.
Ronon sighed and sat up. “I think I like that story better,” he admitted. “Killing the woman wouldn’t have helped him anyway. This way, there was still hope for him. Love.”
“Hey.” John sat up as well and nudged Ronon with his elbow. “You still have us. The team. Atlantis. We’re still there for you. No matter what.” He grimaced. “You think I like being a vampire? I wish Keller would find a cure, too, and maybe she or Carson will, one day. There still is hope. Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe Rodney can figure something out. He’s pretty smart, you know?”
He was babbling now, and he knew immediately that his attempt of joking about McKay to diffuse the somber mood between them had fallen flat when Ronon simply snorted.
“If he’s that smart,” he pointed out, “He shouldn’t even try making a dog collar. Or talk about it.”
John smirked and glanced at the personal shield Rodney had modified for him. “Knowing Rodney, it would be a pretty cool dog collar. With invisibility built in, or death rays, or something.”
Ronon looked intrigued for a moment, but then, he shook his head. “No.”
“I’ll talk to him, okay?” John promised, but he couldn’t hold back a grin.
“Yeah.” Ronon stood and started to sort through the clothes strewn over the floor. “I should go.”
“I’ll talk to Woolsey, too,” John added and followed Ronon’s example. “It’s not okay that you should have to spend the night in the cell. You don’t even have a…” He stopped mid-sentence and froze, one leg in his pants already.
Ronon gave him an amused glance. “Don’t even have a…?” he prompted, the way he’d seen Lorne do it.
John hastily pulled his pants up and buckled his belt before he went to one of the hidden compartments where he kept his belongings. He knew exactly what he was looking for – the blanket Teyla had given him for Christmas. It was warm, soft and colorful, a piece of Athosian art, and John usually used it to wrap up in whenever he came back from the infirmary and needed some extra warmth and comfort to battle the pains and aches.
“Besides, it’s okay,” Ronon said quietly. “There’s something missing, I can’t stop myself sometimes when I’m like that. Don’t want to hurt anyone here.”
John shook his head and grabbed the blanket. He was sure Teyla wouldn’t mind if he gave it to Ronon for the night.
“Take this,” he said, and pushed the bundle of fabric into Ronon’s arms. “You can give it back in the morning, when…” He blushed and stopped himself. “When you come by for our run,” he finished lamely.
Ronon hesitantly ran his fingertips over the fabric. “Thank you,” he murmured roughly. “I – I better go.”
He had finished dressing while John had looked for the blanket, and now, he was turning around and heading toward the door.
A glance at the watch on John’s wrist told him that the sun would go down soon.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ll stop by later.”
Ronon gave him a half-smile over his shoulder and left.
~*+*~
It was the middle of the night when John slipped into the room, fully expecting the huge wolf in the cell pacing and growling, as he’d done the past two full moons. This was the third time they were going through this, and each time Ronon had transformed two nights into the wolf – and each night he had spent in this cell. He’d always been twitchy and pacing and growling when John had arrived, and John had spent hours sitting there and talking until his voice was hoarse and the wolf had calmed down and had settled down somewhat.
However, tonight, everything was quiet.
John swallowed against the bad feeling that was leaving his stomach and crawling up into his throat and stepped more fully into the room, expecting the worst and hoping, against all odds, that he was wrong.
The wolf was sleeping peacefully. It had curled up in one of the corners of the cell, a big dark lump of fur on a splash of color.
John’s blanket.
Ronon was sleeping.
John stood for a moment, frozen in his spot, and just stared, but then, he whirled around and left just as quietly as he’d arrived.
He was halfway down the hallway when he reached for his radio. “Rodney, come in.”
Silence.
John bit back a curse. It was late; maybe Rodney had, for once, actually gone to bed – John vaguely remembered something about a date with Jennifer that night, and he shook his head slightly.
He couldn’t be considerate of Rodney’s love life right now, he decided as he guided his steps toward Rodney’s room. He needed the insights of Rodney’s scary huge brain. Rodney had figured out what had happened when John had been turned into a vampire; he would know what was happening now, too.
~*+*~
It didn’t mean he wanted to see Rodney dressed in just a pair of boxer shorts that had smiley faces printed on them, but at least it wasn’t the blueprints of a death star, he thought quietly. Rodney had refused to let him into his room, saying that Jennifer was sleeping and there was no way he’d let John – a sex vampire – near his naked girlfriend. As a result, they were standing in front of Rodney’s laptop in the thankfully empty science lab with Rodney mostly naked, shifting from foot to foot and shivering occasionally. He looked miserable enough that John almost started to regret waking him up.
“You know I’m the completely wrong person to ask this, right?” Rodney grumbled and pressed a few keys. “I’m not even a dog person, how should I know what is going on with him?”
“Rodney,” John said patiently – as patiently as he could. “He’s acting weird.”
“Weird, huh?” Rodney pressed another key and the feed from the security camera showed up on his screen. “He’s sleeping, Sheppard. How is that weird? And if it really is that weird, can I go back and be weird, too?”
“You think it is because of the fruit he brought back?”
Rodney almost jumped out of his skin at the unexpected sound of another voice and tried, without much success, to appear dignified – as dignified as an almost naked man in cheerful boxers who had not just squeaked like a scared little kid could be. After a moment, he gave up and tried to hide behind Sheppard instead.
“Teyla.” John sounded unfazed. “What are you doing here?”
Teyla gave him a look and tipped her head to the side. “I was returning to my room when I met Jennifer. She told me that you had, as she put it, run away to check something out and scare the entire population of Atlantis. She asked me to give you this and tell you that she went to bed. Her bed.”
She held out a neatly folded bundle of clothes that Rodney recognized as his, and he hastily grabbed them and started to put them on. He was getting really cold.
Teyla turned her attention toward John. “So – what are you two doing that scares the entire population of Atlantis?”
John frowned and hunched his shoulders. “Ronon is acting strange,” he said and nodded toward the screen that showed the same scene it had before. “And I don’t know if it’s because of the fruits he brought back.”
“It’s a tomato,” Rodney called out from within his t-shirt. He struggled to get his arms in the sleeves. “I saw Lorne and Parrish at dinner when you guys didn’t show up, and Parrish said it was a tomato.” His head emerged. “So – a vegetable, not a fruit. Unless you believe Parrish, but then, he’s a botanist. They’re all…strange.”
“He seemed fine this afternoon when he asked for my help with the negotiations,” Teyla pointed out and frowned. “Is that your blanket he is sleeping on?”
John hunched his shoulders defensively again. “I gave it to him for the night,” he admitted. “When he asked me if, uh, if I wanted to run with him in the morning.”
He shifted nervously on his feet. He hated lying to his team, but, he told himself, Ronon and he really had talked about running in the morning, so it wasn’t a lie, technically. It still didn’t make him feel better, but he couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth, not even Rodney and Teyla, who, he knew, would die before they gave his secret away.
“Wait a second.” Rodney snapped his fingers as his thoughts started racing. “What is a wolf’s strongest sense?”
John shrugged. “Smell?” he guessed.
Rodney pointed at him. “Exactly.”
“And?”
Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. “And? Do I look like a veterinarian to you? I have no idea if the same is true for wolfmen! I’m speculating here!”
“Ronon did complain about an increased sense of smell,” Teyla pointed out. “Especially around the time of the full moon.”
“And if smells take the same role for wolfmen as for normal wolves…” Rodney shook his head slowly. “The energy field of the cells doesn’t allow smells to get through.”
John stared at him. “So…he’s aggressive because he doesn’t smell anything?”
“Because he didn’t smell someone in particular,” Rodney corrected. “I think.”
“But he calmed down when he heard our voices,” John pointed out.
Rodney shook his head. “Not sure it’s all of us or just you.”
“What?” John yelped.
Rodney gave him a look that told John exactly how dense the scientist thought he was. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, but John couldn’t think clearly. His mind was still stuck on what Rodney had said, and what he could have meant…
“Rodney?” Teyla prompted.
“Sheppard is his alpha,” Rodney pointed out with a long-suffering sigh. “Team leader? The man in command?”
“Oh.” John felt the tips of his ears prickle with embarrassment about his brief but thankfully silent freak-out. He had jumped to conclusions – Rodney didn’t know anything about him and Ronon.
Rodney gave him a disgusted look he usually reserved for Wraith and citrus fruits.
“I do believe he will remain calm for everyone he considers part of his family. His friends,” Teyla said quietly. “He told me a story about a Satedan legend – Jarn the Wolfwarrior, a brave fighter who protected his platoon until his last breath.”
John’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Apparently, there was more than one story about that particular legend, and Ronon had told Teyla another one than John had heard.
“Yeah,” Rodney pointed out and tried to flatten down his hair without much success. “But wasn’t it that legend that told him he’d be fine as long as he killed the wolfman who bit him, too?”
“Well,” John said and crossed his arms over his chest. “Only one way to figure out if this one is more than a legend.”
“The Wraithhunters are said to be very loyal people,” Teyla added. “But I am not sure if we should not talk to Mr. Woolsey or Dr. Keller first.”
“No time,” John said and glanced at his watch. “We can always tell them later.”
Rodney muttered under his breath, but he was already powering his laptop down.
“Listen,” John said into the sudden silence. “I’m going in there alone – if our theory is wrong…”
“Shut up,” Rodney snapped. “You are not going to risk your life without us being there to save your ass! That’s not how this works!”
Ronon isn’t going to do anything to me,” John protested. “He didn’t try to eat me last time, either.”
“In that case, there is no reason for us not to go with you,” Teyla said firmly.
“Right.” Rodney closed the laptop and took it. “You coming, or what?”
John hesitated.
“Listen,” Rodney said quietly. “Sooner or later, we’ll get caught off-world when the moon is coming up. I’d rather know that I won’t get eaten by an oversized wild dog now, and we can’t keep him locked up in that cell forever, or he’ll, I don’t know, join those stupid villagers on one of their kamikaze runs and gets killed in one of their reckless attacks on the Wraith and I really doubt that anyone here wants that to happen.” He shrugged. “Ronon is a friend, okay?” And there is no way I can think of turning him back to the scary Ronon we had before, just like there is no way we can turn you back – “ He stopped and waved a hand.
John flinched. He hadn’t given up the hope that one day, Keller or Carson would come up with a cure for his condition, no matter how small the probability of that happening was.
“Anyways,” Rodney continued, his voice soft, “he is aware of what is happening, even when he’s…” he waved his hand again. “…Chewbacca,” he finally said. “We should…we should show a little trust in him.”
“Rodney…” John started, but he found himself overwhelmed with affection for Rodney, despite his many grating habits. “You sure?”
Rodney’s chin came up. “No,” he admitted. “And we should go now before I realize what exactly I just said.”
“You said something very brave and wise,” Teyla assured him and put her hand on Rodney’s arm, and together they left the lab in silence, until Rodney started to complain about his cold feet.
~*+*~
“You know,” Rodney said and took a bite of his sandwich, “You are a lot bigger than you look on the screen of a laptop or through an energy shield.”
Ronon rumbled a pleased growl from somewhere deep in his chest and nudged Rodney with his cold, wet nose before stealing the brownie off his tray.
“Hey!” Rodney yelped. “That was mine!”
Ronon grinned and tilted his head to the side while wagging his tail slightly.
John hid his grin behind the rim of his cup – a blend of Teyla’s and Radek’s blood, he thought, almost at a perfect temperature, but not quite – and stretched out his legs. Breaking Ronon out of the holding cell had been ridiculously easy, and if any of the early risers or late stragglers who came stumbling into the cafeteria were surprised by the sight of the three of them and the gigantic wolf, they didn’t show it, for which John was grateful.
But then, this was Atlantis and Pegasus galaxy, and they were dealing with weird things regularly.
A werewolf wasn’t that much of an exception of their daily lives, apparently.
Ronon yipped and stood. He stretched and yawned, and John realized it was close to dawn.
He nodded. “I’ll come with you to your room, in case someone gets a little trigger-happy,” he explained and stood as well. He nodded at Teyla and Rodney and followed Ronon out.
“That went…surprisingly well,” Rodney commented and stretched his arms over his head. “And if you excuse me…I’m going to go to bed now.”
Teyla bowed her head. “Very well,” she said. “As will I.”
“Good night, then,” Rodney said. He hesitated for a split second, but then he stood and left without saying another word.
Teyla’s lips curved into a fond smile as she slowly followed his example.
Things, she felt, would be all right.
~*+*~
It had to happen sooner or later, John thought as he picked up Ronon’s gun, his boots, and his pants. Rodney had said so, and he’d figured out the probabilities himself a few times.
“Ronon? You okay, buddy?” he asked.
The huge wolf whimpered softly and shook himself before growling and scratching one of his ears with a paw.
“Everything okay, then,” Rodney said and patted Ronon’s shoulder briefly. “That shirt is ruined, though.” Nobody mentioned the transformation process, which looked, in John’s opinion, very painful. He didn’t even want to think about going through it, again and again.
“I believe so, too.” Teyla reached out, grabbed the wolf’s mane and touched her forehead to his. “Shall we continue, then?”
“Yeah.” John pushed Ronon’s gun into his jacket and made sure it wouldn’t fall out. “Let’s go home.”
“I bet we could ride on Ronon,” Rodney muttered thoughtfully. “Or he could at least carry our stuff.”
Ronon made a growly sound they all recognized, and John tangled his fingers in the fur of Ronon’s shoulder as they continued on their way. The full moon shone quietly and peacefully down on them, illuminating the winding path to the Stargate.
Suddenly, Rodney chuckled.
“John is a sex vampire, Ronon is a werewolf,” he said. “And you, Teyla – you’re some kind of Xena. With Wraith DNA.”
John grinned. “You’re an astrophysicist,” he pointed out. “That’s even weirder than vampires, werewolves and Wraith DNA put together.”
“We’re a freak show,” Rodney declared. He sounded surprisingly cheerful about it.
John thought about it for a moment. “Next planet, it’s your turn,” he drawled. “Zombies. Zombies only want you for your brain.”
Rodney shuddered and whimpered quietly, but before he could say anything, Ronon howled softly.
“Yes,” Teyla said. “I agree with Ronon. We will protect you from those zombies, Rodney.”
John felt himself smiling. He didn’t even try to stop it.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said. “We look out for each other, right?”
“Right,” Rodney replied, quietly and earnestly. “We do.”
They were a team, after all.
A family.
It was a weird, dysfunctional family, but no matter what would happen – Wraith, vampires, werewolves, zombies – they would deal with it.
Together.
~end.