McKay is yelling, voice bouncing off the walls, and Ronon feels a deep, one time only gratitude because when McKay raves, people watch him.

He's funny.

Unseen, Ronon eases out a hidden knife and launches himself forward, snarling past the rank, sweet reek of Wraith clogging his throat.

When Ford dies, blood bubbling black and thick from between his lips, Ronon laughs.

The poison in his veins doesn't stop burning though. Not until the chatter of bullets answering his knife-thrust rip and pluck at his flesh, leaving holes for the darkness to pour through, leaving him blessedly empty and clean.


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