Here ya go Sci
A New Beginning
A New Beginning
Spoiler:
He stared hard into the mirror; the freshly healing slash that had just barely missed taking his left eye mocked him silently. New skin was growing in its place and it looked as ugly and horrid as Ronon felt.
How could that have happened? How could he have almost lost his life at the clawed hands of a filthy disgusting Wraith? How could he have let Michael get that close? These questions burned at the very core of Ronon’s heart and he felt as though he never had before: Weak.
The mutated face in the mirror would remind him everyday of his failure, of his shame, and he needed to do something, anything, to sear the repeating memory from replaying over and over again his mind.
The hatred welling inside him was a new disease to his soul and the laughter and kinship he had come to know so well on Atlantis felt a million lifetimes away.
His eyes filled with tears but they were not tears of sadness, but his expression of frustration and loathing, his own personal omen to the darkness that was to come; the darkness that he would bring.
He reached over wildly grasping for the battle-axe that lay dormant to his left, thrown carelessly amidst his messy bed linens. Using one hand to hold out his long coarse hair, he began slicing away at the near root by the nape of his neck, the silent scream clogged somewhere deep in his throat as the tears continued to shine through.
When he finally finished, the floor by his feet was covered in the hair he had taken so long to grow, the strands of a man he needn’t be acquainted with any longer, the mark of a weak, undisciplined Satedan. And yet the man facing him in the mirror was someone he did not yet know, but felt strangely familiar staring back with a small smile across his face and no sign of the lingering tears that had been there moments ago.
How could that have happened? How could he have almost lost his life at the clawed hands of a filthy disgusting Wraith? How could he have let Michael get that close? These questions burned at the very core of Ronon’s heart and he felt as though he never had before: Weak.
The mutated face in the mirror would remind him everyday of his failure, of his shame, and he needed to do something, anything, to sear the repeating memory from replaying over and over again his mind.
The hatred welling inside him was a new disease to his soul and the laughter and kinship he had come to know so well on Atlantis felt a million lifetimes away.
His eyes filled with tears but they were not tears of sadness, but his expression of frustration and loathing, his own personal omen to the darkness that was to come; the darkness that he would bring.
He reached over wildly grasping for the battle-axe that lay dormant to his left, thrown carelessly amidst his messy bed linens. Using one hand to hold out his long coarse hair, he began slicing away at the near root by the nape of his neck, the silent scream clogged somewhere deep in his throat as the tears continued to shine through.
When he finally finished, the floor by his feet was covered in the hair he had taken so long to grow, the strands of a man he needn’t be acquainted with any longer, the mark of a weak, undisciplined Satedan. And yet the man facing him in the mirror was someone he did not yet know, but felt strangely familiar staring back with a small smile across his face and no sign of the lingering tears that had been there moments ago.
That was intense....But i loved it........angst sweet sweet angst!!!
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