Title: In Between Running and Standing Still

A "The Return part 1" missing scene

Disclaimer:SGA belongs to MGM/Paramount and a bunch of others. No copyright infringement intended with the use of these characters.

Spoilers:For " The Return part 1"- the conversation at the end of the story is straight out of "The Return"

A/N:I was watching my season 3 dvds and had forgotten how much I loved The Return part one. In watching though I got wondering about Ronon and what he was going through with the Athosian people. This is just a tiny glimpse into what I think might have been happening.

Thanks To NT again for putting up with me --especially with my inability to figure out commas or Titles(thank you for this title!)

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Ronon stirred restlessly and flopped over onto his back. He pulled his arms up and laced his fingers together, pillowing his head in his palms, and tried to relax. He hated not being able to sleep.

Normally, when sleep was evasive, he'd simply find something else to do. Back when he'd been running, well, that was different. Sleep had been dangerous. He'd snagged patches here and there and learned to keep going without it. On Atlantis, it'd been difficult to readjust into a regular sleeping pattern. He never had mastered it, but in the city there was always something to do. He could run or train or eat or just find someone else who wasn't sleeping either. There was always someone awake on Atlantis.

Here though, Ronon sighed as he opened his eyes and stared at the sturdy Athosian canvas stretched above him. The tent was simple and warm, but… Flinging back the hand-woven coverlet, Ronon sat up on the soft,thick pallet and rubbed his hands over his face.

He should be content with this, he told himself. For years, seven long hard years, he'd had nothing. The dirt had been his bed, the sky his ceiling and his coat the only blanket he had needed. Some days, the fortunate days, he'd find a cave or tree to hide in and escape the elements. This warm, dry shelter was paradise compared to those days and yet…it wasn't Atlantis. Had he let Atlantis soften him?

Ronon pushed himself to his feet and not bothering to light a candle, easily found his shirt. He pulled it over his head and leaned over to tighten his boots. He hadn't been able to relax enough to take them off at night. He'd slept half-dressed, always ready and he wondered again if he'd grown too complacent on Atlantis. No, on Atlantis there were warning systems and doors that locked and…friends to watch your back.

Grunting, Ronon shook his head to rid his mind of such thoughts. It'd been over a full lunar phase since they had all been kicked out of the Ancestors' city. Displaced, again. Sheppard and McKay were gone, light years away. In another galaxy. Ronon knew enough to know it was an insurmountable distance. Too far.

Scrambling easily to his feet, Ronon grabbed his jacket. Though stuffy and warm inside his dwelling, he knew the wind kept a chill in the air outside. He pulled the jacket on and strapped his weapon to his side before he ducked under the tent's flap and entered the night.

The breeze was constant and whipped at his jacket. The edges flapped against his legs. He pushed his hair back and out of his face, quickly fixing it in place with a strip of leather. The torches along the simple path had been put out to keep the settlement shrouded in darkness but the moon was full, casting eerie shadows against the sides of the other tents. The camp was quiet and still. There was no sign that anyone but him was awake this far before dawn.

Ronon walked toward the eastern edge of the camp, away from the gate. Teyla would have posted watchmen and Ronon didn't want to explain his presence or make small talk. He could smell the lingering scents of the previous evening's meal. He didn't mind the simple fare, it fed him and met his needs, but Teyla was definitely not skilled at preparing food.She was better than he was, he supposed, smiling to himself. She did try,but he found himself missing the meals from Atlantis. He missed fighting with McKay over the last blue jello cup.

Pausing, Ronon turned and found Teyla's tent. It was dark inside,but he knew it wouldn't be long before she rose to prepare for the day. She'd make her tea and he'd join her and Halling and a few others to plan for the events of the day.

Scowling, Ronon started walking again. What would his tasks be today? He tried to push the restless bitterness aside, but couldn't quite suppress it all. What would it be today? Hauling materials for another structure? Clearing another field of brush in preparation for plowing and planting? Maybe, if he was fortunate, he'd be chosen for a hunt. He grunted again, knowing that was unlikely. He was a skilled hunter, but his style was radically different from that of the Athosians. Where he moved quickly, they moved slowly and methodically. When he yelled in triumph, they cast disapproving looks at his exuberance. He loved Teyla. He would do anything for her but he was he was finding it hard to fit in here with her people.

Teyla had listened to his concerns when they'd first arrived and had been reassuring. "Give it time," she'd told him. The assuring comment had reminded him that he'd once thought that he'd never fit in with Sheppard's people on Atlantis. Yet in a surprisingly short period of time, he'd grown to be a part of that team, to the point where it felt alien to be without Sheppard and McKay.

She was right of course, but Ronon knew that this was different. On Atlantis and on Sheppard's team, he could still be what he was…a soldier. Ronon stared out over the fields, watching the shadows shifting in the dark sky. He could never be a farmer, he just didn't know if he could ever leave Teyla. He'd lost Sheppard and McKay already. Teyla was all he had left.

Ronon didn't know how long he'd stood there, trying to find his place,but by the time he'd turned back,the settlement was slowly stirring to greet the dawn.

The day played out as expected, with Ronon helping clear brush from the farthest field for the majority of the day. It was hard work, but Ronon still felt a restless energy boiling inside as he returned to his tent and cleaned up for the evening meal. He'd just finished dressing when Jinto appeared at his tent's entrance, out of breath with youthful excitement.

"What?" Ronon demanded sharply, worry blooming in his chest.

"Teyla needs you." Jinto grinned through deep breaths. "Ladon of the Genii has come."

Ronon had no idea what to expect from the meeting with Ladon. He did not like the man and sitting across the table from him, listening to his arrogant and condescending proposal to work together…didn't change his feeling any.

He refused to react to Ladon's baiting remarks about life as a tava bean farmer, but burned inwardly with fury that the Genii leader could read him so well. Then Ladon was gone, tossing back another jarring comment about waiting for their decision before disappearing through the ring.

Ronon listened to Teyla's arguments as they walked back to the settlement and stood outside with her, trying not to be distracted by the smell of her stew, cooking on the fire. He knew she made good points but he argued, unable to voice his true reasons. He could not work with the Genii without feeling like he was betraying Sheppard.

Teyla seemed to understand him and he knew, even as she spoke, that the time had come to let go. "My people are farmers." She looked up at him earnestly.

"Maybe this isn't the place for me then." He was already in motion, walking away, avoiding any hurt or disappointment he might see in her eyes at his words. He just couldn't stay here, living this life any more.

"Something smells good."

The familiar voice stopped him cold and filled him with warm relief at the same time. He turned back, taking in the sight of Sheppard, McKay, Carson and Elizabeth. And he realized, if they were back, just the four of them…something was wrong.

Ronon listened to the details of the problem, hearing the fear and worry and subtle excitement in all of their voices. He realized that they'd been just as lost as he felt. They had been torn apart, separated, given jobs that didn't really fit them anymore, and they'd turned around and defied their commander, stolen a jumper and returned to the Pegasus galaxy to try to save Atlantis.

Rodney was rattling off a long winded technical explanation to Ronon's question as Ronon checked out the weapons they'd brought to use against the Replicators.

"Not what I asked," he commented as Rodney finished, enjoying the familiar annoyed reaction. He'd missed messing with McKay's head.

"Yes, it works good," McKay answered with a sigh.

Ronon suppressed the urge to laugh. "Good." He looked at John. "So you need us because we know our way around the city?" He wasn't sure why he asked, he really did already know the answer, but he needed to hear John's answer all the same.

"I need you because you're part of our team."

And there it was. The answer Ronon had been searching for since the Ancestors had returned. Where was his place? Where did he belong? He'd felt lost because this-- he looked at McKay and Sheppard and Teyla as he listened to Elizabeth,--this was what he'd been missing. His team.

"I'll be damned if I'm gonna let a bunch of replicators take our home away from us," John said emphatically. "So, you with us?"

Ronon exchanged a glance with Teyla, already knowing her answer and wondering why Sheppard even thought he had to ask, but then he knew that too. The SGC had been wrong to give in so easily to the Ancestors. They'd torn apart more than a team. They'd torn apart a family, and just like Ronon had needed John to say it, John needed to hear it as well.

Ronon grinned as Teyla nodded. "We are with you."