A/N: Lots of thanks to my beta The Wishyles! All remaining mistakes are mine.

Fear

Ronon clutched the chair's armrest. A man with thinning grey hair had his back turned to Ronon examining his metallic tools. When the man finally decided on a small, curved instrument, Ronon pressed himself deeper into the chair. Nervously he licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat.

The man turned to Ronon, asking "Well, are you ready?"

Ronon lifted his head and stared menacingly at the man. Uneasy, he evaded Ronon's look, giving the Satedan warrior a moment's satisfaction.

The grey-haired man stepped towards Ronon. His voice was trembling as he warned the warrior, "Don't you try and threaten me!"

Ronon tried to distract himself and to fade out of the situation. He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. The man took another step and Ronon held his breath.

"Do you want to complicate things?" Annoyed, the man held his instrument directly in front of Ronon's face.

This unnecessary provocation made Ronon see red. He jumped up and grabbed the man by the throat.

"Let… me… go… im-… me-… diate-… ly!" the man croaked desperately.

Ronon loosened his grip, "Sorry, doctor."

Dr Koslowski gasped for breath, then he retreated quickly to the door, "Beckett should sedate you, if you want me to take care of you! How can someone with your background be afraid of a dentist anyway?"