Several people passed Teyla and Ronon in the hall, many preoccupied with conversation and getting to their destinations on time, hardly sparing the two Pegasus Galaxy natives a second glace. Ronon leaned a shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes, catching his breath. Teyla squeezed his hand, studying the thin lines between his brows, the sweat glittering in his hairline. She noticed an exit nearby and tugged on his arm. He opened his eyes and looked to her and her smile began to calm his speeding heart. Her gaze said “follow me,” and so he did.

Teyla guided the tall Satedan to the exit and out onto the balcony. The sun was sinking towards the horizon in the distance and a chilly breeze blew, giving her goosebumps. She spied a bench a few feet away, its sides hemmed in by the walls of Atlantis, shielding it from the wind. The two made their way over and sat down. Teyla hugged Ronon’s arm, resting her cheekbone against his shoulder as they warmed in the sunlight, studying the ever-shifting shades of the sea before them. She could feel Ronon’s pulse slowing and rubbed his forearm. The two had gone on many such walks over the past week as Ronon slowly rebuilt the muscle of his legs that had waned in the month he’d spent unconscious.

His voice would have startled her had it not emanated more from his chest than his lips. “I’d almost forgotten what it looked like...”

“Atlantis?”

He shook his head a little. “I never would’ve thought that I’d feel at home surrounded by so much water, no land in sight.”

Teyla smiled a little. “Nor did I.” She sighed, straightening. “When I was a little girl, I also never thought that I would leave my village, let alone lead my people to an entirely new world.”

He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer so that their hips touched. He pressed his lips against her temple and waited a moment before kissing her, taking in sweetly sour scent of her hair and the milk of her skin.

She could feel his breath against her, and the simple, silent reminder of his strength and love made her close her eyes. She remembered quiet, panted breaths in the barracks as they made love. She remembered blood shed in a field. She remembered the weakness of his fevered gaze after the crack of the whip. She opened her eyes as he kissed her. “Ronon?”

“Hmm?”

“We had a child.”

She heard his breathing stop for a moment, his body stiffening. “...What?” He pulled away to be able to see her face.

Teyla slipped her hand in his and met his confused green eyes with her sturdy brown. “I did not know until after I thought you were dead.” Her voice began to waver and he squeezed her hand. “I knew inciting rebellion was a great risk, but I could not let our child be born into slavery. And I fought, Ronon.” She shook her head a little, tears beginning to moisten her cheeks. “I fought.”

He reached out and cupped her face, brushing one of her tears away with his thumb, leaning in, his voice a whisper. “It’s all right, Teyla... it’s all right.”

“There was a driver,” she continued in a rushed gasp. “Named Cartman – the one who whipped you. Before I killed him, he managed to strike me several times. I remember he hit me in the abdomen...” She closed her eyes, more tears escaping. “He died by my hand, but not without wounding us both.”

Ronon pulled her into a hug, tugging her onto his lap. She sniffled as she rested her hips atop his, laying her cheek against his shoulder. Ronon’s throat was tightening, his eyes stinging as he rubbed her back, struggling to wrap his mind around how very different their lives could have been. “It’s not your fault, Teyla.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Teyla – ”

“I should not have been so reckless when I knew – ”

“No.” He combed his fingers through her hair, feeling her tears seeping into the fabric of his shirt, kissing his skin. “You did the right thing. And I’m so very proud of you.”

Teyla pulled away to look Ronon in the eye. “But we could have had a child, Ronon. A daughter or a son.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet and he tucked her hair behind her ears. “But if that’s the price we had to pay to be together again, then so be it.”

She furrowed her brow, searching the assuredness of his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he added. “I would love to have a baby with you. It just...” His eyes momentarily trailed away from hers, lost in the memory of smoke and blood and the desperate voices of slaves. He looked back to Teyla. “It wasn’t our time.” He brushed another tear off her cheek, not noticing his own escaping. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll get another chance. But right now, I’m just so thankful that I have you.” He pulled her into another hug.

Teyla wrapped her arms around his ribs, still hating how near to his skin they were. She was quiet for several long moments as she listened to his heart and let his words warm her spirit, taking the edge off of some of the pain, even if only for the time being. “I am glad that you know... bearing the weight alone...”

“Was something you never should’ve had to do.”

She closed her eyes, her breath no longer hitching in her chest as her tears slowed.

“And something I never want you to have to do again.” He kissed the top of her head and she found herself smiling a little, wondering at his words, never having thought that she’d ever trust another enough to believe such a pledge.

“I wish the same for you, Ronon.” She rubbed his shoulder. “You have borne so much for so long... My heart would break to see you face your demons alone.” She straightened, taking his hand in hers and resting it against her heart with a small smile. “Let us share what we have found with those we love.”

Amusement danced in Ronon’s eyes. “You mean a bonding ceremony?” Teyla nodded. Ronon returned her butterfly’s flutter of a smile and held her hand against his heart, as well. “I would be honored.” Her smile grew and she leaned in and kissed him. But as his lips pressed against hers, a cold dread crept up from his stomach and soured his hopes for their future as suddenly as it had appeared.

The weeks slipped past and Ronon continued to steadily regain his strength, walking with ease and soon going for runs once more with Sheppard. Teyla was delighted by his progress, yet with the mending of his muscles came a distance from his heart. When he was well enough to leave the infirmary and return to his quarters he did so without ever asking Teyla if she wanted to share his bed. She felt his muscles begin to flinch when she would touch him unexpectedly, and he was often watching and listening for sights and sounds that she knew he no longer had to fear. On several mornings he came to breakfast late, mumbling about a bad night’s sleep as his explanation. When she would bring up any planning for the bonding ceremony, his eyes flickered and wavered, as if he were faking his smiles. Teyla couldn’t help but notice that Ronon had begun to pull away shortly after she told him about her miscarriage.

Guilt began to gnaw on her psyche, renewing its vigor, and when it was too much to bear, she didn’t share it with Ronon as promised, but instead twisted in her sheets alone, weeping and biting her knuckles until she exhausted her emotions into slumber. Ronon was fading in front of her and there was nothing she could do to stop him, for she feared she was the source of his glances that shied away.

Sheppard looked at Ronon as he wiped his face off with a towel, still catching his breath from a run with the Satedan. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

Ronon glanced to him then tossed his own towel onto a bench beside their lockers. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’”

Seemingly thinking twice about his action, Ronon picked up his towel and busied himself folding it.

Sheppard saw the action for what it was: avoidance. “You wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Ronon cleared his throat.

“About it.”

Ronon looked to him then. “What’s ‘it’?”

Sheppard shrugged, taking a gulp from his water bottle, the air surging past the plastic letting out a quiet hiss. “I don’t know. Whatever the ‘it’ is.”

Ronon furrowed his brows then looked away, grabbing his own water bottle.

Sheppard sighed. “Look, what I’m trying to say is, if you ever wanna talk, I’m here for you.”

Ronon swallowed. “We are talking.”

“Not this kind of talking. You know what I mean.” Sheppard peeled off his sweaty shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his locker.

“You mean the kind of talking with a point,” Ronon said as he sat down on the bench. His tank top clung to the slowly thickening muscles of his lean frame, drenched in sweat, and Sheppard noticed that Ronon never changed his shirt in front of him anymore. He knew the Satedan didn’t want him to gawk at the deforming scars on his back.

Sheppard sighed, adjusting his new shirt. “You just seem a little gloomy. When you first woke up and were getting better, you and Teyla were so happy. What the hell happened? Did you guys fight or something?”

Ronon stood up. “No.”

“Then what’s going wrong?”

Sheppard fought the urge to roll his eyes and pivoted to face the exiting man. “I know you’ve been through hell but don’t tell me you’re – ”

“Shut up, Sheppard.”

There was a snarl in Ronon’s voice as he snapped over his shoulder, a tension in his spine as he stalked out of the locker room that reminded Sheppard of a tiger. He made sure to avoid Ronon the rest of the day.

Ronon sat on his bed, dropping his head into his hands. He felt like he was hot, but he wasn’t. He felt as if people were watching him when they weren’t. Shadows were tricksters. He had begun to obsessively check behind the shower curtain, under the bed, and just outside the door to make sure no one was hiding there. It wasn’t fair. Fear fluttered within him like a startled raven, taking flight at the mildest triggers.

His sheets were stained with night sweats and he would wake up wanting to hurt himself. He locked the door leading to his balcony, afraid of the allure of the height and the plummet to the sea. Teyla’s voice reminded him of fingers crawling on his skin like worms, taking him from himself, stealing his screams with kisses. A part of him knew Teyla deserved better, that he should apologize, but he couldn’t help himself. The love and worry in Teyla’s eyes reminded him of what a liar he was. Of what a terrible person he was. Of how he had failed her.

He rose from the bed, crossing to the bathroom for the second time since he’d returned from the evening meal. The shower curtain hung where it always had, it’s white fabric as boring as ever. Ronon swiped it to the side, finding momentary relief when he was greeted with the sight of his empty shower. He let the curtain fall back into place and strode out of the bathroom. Then the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he looked over his shoulder. Had that wrinkle in the curtain been there before? Someone must have slipped behind it when he turned his back!

Ronon crossed the bathroom in two strides and yanked the curtain back, sneering at his soap and shampoo bottles and the silent laughter of a ghost. With a growl, he yanked the curtain and rod off the shower, letting them clatter into the tub, their clank and clang echoing in the small room.

Then he heard someone hurrying through the main room and his hackles rose. He dashed out to intercept the ghost that had escaped the shower without his noticing, but instead of a ghost his chest smacked into Teyla. He’d already grabbed her shoulders by the time he recognized her. He shoved her away from him with a frustrated groan.

Teyla stumbled backwards, her shoulders aching from his vice-like grip, her expression incredulous. “Ronon!”

Ronon had stalked past her and was now looking down either end of the hallway outside.

Teyla watched him through her tousled hair, trying to stave off the pain in her throat.

He stepped back into the room and pressed the key to shut the door, looking to her with an accusatory glare. “What the hell were you doing here?”

Teyla hesitated, taking a moment to catch her breath and brush some of the hair away from her face, making no move to near him. “I... I heard you scream. I heard a bang.”

Ronon panted, his furrowed brows slowly relaxing as he caught his breath, his voice still suspicious.

“I was worried – ”

“I was fine.”

Teyla cocked her head, no longer able to keep the pain in her throat at bay as she noticed the way Ronon’s restless eyes resembled a coyote’s. Her voice was firm. “You hurt me, Ronon.”

Ronon blinked, studying her for any obvious signs of harm. “You startled me.”

Teyla narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards him. “That does not make it right, Ronon.”

He swallowed hard, his face relaxing, beginning to finally resemble that of the man she loved.

“What is going on with you?”

He shifted, glancing about jerkily. “Nothing.”

“Do not lie to me.” She took another step towards him then paused when he took a step backwards. A line formed between her brows at his defensive action. “I am not going to hurt you back.”

He didn’t respond and the tension in his shoulders told her that he didn’t believe her.

She kept her eyes glued on him as she slowly stepped past, making her way for the bathroom. Ronon had cornered himself between the bed and the wall and didn’t move, tracking her movements like a hawk. Teyla peered into the bathroom, saw the dismantled shower curtain, then looked back to Ronon. He appeared even tenser than before, his neck stiff and his eyes rounded with child-like timidity in a way that she had rarely seen them. The line between her brows deepened as she gestured to the curtain. “What are you doing?”

He shifted his gaze to look past her into the bathroom then looked back to her displeased expression, his lips showing no sign of answering.

Teyla raised her brows, infusing her voice with an anger that had been festering for weeks. “Ronon?”

The movement was minute, but he shifted his weight. His thumbnail picked at the seam of his trousers. He sounded like he needed to clear his throat. “Someone... might have been behind that.”

“In the shower?”

The hesitancy in his nod told her that he was realizing how ridiculous the whole thing sounded.

Her mouth formed a firm line as she studied him, her nostrils flaring. The irrationality of his behavior and his pathetic excuses were wearing on her thinning patience. The light in his eyes was dimming, slowly replaced by a manic energy. She shook her head. “There is no one hunting you, Ronon.”

He blinked, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I know.”

“No. I do not think you do.” She stepped towards him again and his shoulders tensed once more. She paid them no heed. “I love you, Ronon, but every day I see less and less of you. One day soon I will not be able to recognize you anymore.” A worried look spread over his face as she spoke. “Now, I am sorry that these terrible things have happened to you. If I could take them all from you, I would. But if you resent me for losing our child, just say it for I can no longer bear the silence from you.”

Ronon’s brows twitched together and his lips parted and moved silently for a heartbeat. She thought he’d mouthed the word “I,” but then he stopped trying.

The relentless strength of Teyla’s eyes continued to bore into him, demanding further explanation, but he deflated under her gaze and gave none.

Teyla shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears. “Then I have nothing more to say to you, Ronon Dex. I see that I lost you on that plantation after all.” She turned away before he could see her shed her tears, but he didn’t need to. He knew all the same. She strode out of the room and Ronon remained where he was long after the doors had swooshed shut behind her. Shame burned his cheeks, terror gripped his heart, and the shadows cackled, ghosting past, with Danella’s voice.

Branded Heart

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