Author's Note: I originally wrote this story as part of a series that will (thankfully) never be seen in it's original form by light of day. But I realized that this story, oddly enough, stood on it's own; so I re-wrote it to share. I hope that you enjoy!

Ronon/OC and Ronon/Teyla, but you can take it however you want.

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Ronon took one last look behind him, at his friends, at Atlantis. His eyes lingered on Teyla. But she hadn't tried to stop him; she understood how important this journey was for him, and she was not going to interfere however much she might want to.

Ronon tore his eyes away and gave a brief wave to them all, then he stepped through the gate. A moment later he was on Sateda.

Walking back through that city was like walking through a graveyard. He looked around, memories flowing unbidden through his mind and making ghostly images dance before his eyes of days long since past. Years. It had been eight years since Sateda had fallen. Not he'd come back to honor his world. His friends had promised him two weeks of solitude, and in that time he would do all that he could to honor his people.

The first place that he went was the old hospital; the place where he'd lost Melena and where Sheppard and Teyla had found him after he'd been re-captured to run again. The memories that the room brought were intense and bittersweet; of loss and love and the bravery of friends, risking their own lives for the sake of others.

Dropping to his knees in the middle of the floor, he cut off one of his long dreadlocks and laid it on the ground. Then he left and moved on to Melena's house, where he repeated the gesture.

He did this many times; all the places where comrades had fallen, places of memory that deserved to be honored. Everywhere he went he left a part of himself. He felt like he was ending thoughts and guilt from Sateda forever, as if by cutting his hair he was severing the last link to his past. That part of his life was over. Eventually, he ran out of places to honor, and suddenly exhausted he slumped against a wall and fell asleep, something that his runner's instincts rebelled against.

He awakened to the sound of crying; a sound that he had never expected to hear on Sateda., aside from the vivid memories surfacing of his little sister crying during storms. Curious, hoping that he wasn't falling into a trap, he ignored his aching, protesting muscles and followed the sound. He chased it through the city, all the way through and into the forest.

When Ronon thought about it later, he shouldn't have been able to hear whoever it was who was crying from so far away. regardless of how good his hearing was or how silent everything else was. But in the moment nothing of the sort occurred to him.

He walked through the trees, remembering the manor house that his family had owned in the country where he had gone sometimes to escape. He was so caught up in memory that he was following the crying voice almost unconsciously, and he almost missed it's owner. But because of his uncharacteristic distraction, he tripped, and found the feet of the crier. He pushed himself to his knees and looked up into a face that he'd never thought that he'd see again. A smile brightened the woman's tear-stained features. He gasped.

"Alina?" he breathed.

"Hello Dex."

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After recovering from his initial shock, Ronon had greeted his old friend properly. She embraced him, and he wondered with some mischief what Teyla would think of it. But that was not something to dwell on.

"Dex, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too," he said, holding her comfortingly against his chest. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"And our people are gone, now."

"We're not the only ones left," he began.

"I know; but no one else came in remembrance today."

"It's not their fault." She shrugged.

"Maybe you're right. Our people did have short memories for things."

"Not everything," Ronon corrected gently. Alina looked curiously at him.

"Then tell me why you do remember."

"Because of everything that's happened to me since then. Part of all that bad stuff that happened... it brought me where I am, where I need to be. And it's good."

"So you're not here to stay?"

"Only for two weeks," he paused. "You are staying? All alone?" she nodded. "Alina, why?"

"Because this is my home," she said softly. "It is best this way, really. Now I can't hurt anyone."

"Alina, what are you talking about?" there was a secret behind those stormy gray eyes; but whatever it was, she wasn't telling. He wished briefly that he was a listener like Teyla--- able to get into her mind--- but dismissed it just as quickly. When Alina was ready, she would tell him.

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That night, Ronon chose staying with Alina in the forest over going back to the city or moving on towards the Satedan countryside dotted with large estates. He and Alina build a shelter; and while they worked huge heavy thunderclouds rolled in. By the time that they were finished they were soaked, and they shivered in the half-dryness of the shelter as they built a fire. Ronono found himself wishing for a puddlejumper to camp out in; they'd done it before and while not the most comfortable it was always dry.

"Do you think that others will come?" Alina asked softly after a while. Ronon shrugged,

"If they don't it's their problem; we don't need to worry about it." Alina shrugged, and not for the first time that day Ronon was amazed at the change in is old friend. She wasn't the confident, amusing girl that she'd been when they were in the army or the smart-mouthed, bossy child that he remembered from so much further back. All of her fire seemed to have been burned out of her like Sateda had been burned out. He wondered what had happened to her in the years that they'd been apart.

Eventually, Ronon fell asleep. He drifted into restless dreams of running. Not just from the wraith; but all the things that he'd run from in his life. Home, Sateda, friendships... even Teyla. He didn't wake up until much later; and when he did, Alina was gone from the shelter.

A little worried, he got up and looked around for her. He saw her outsde, her face tilted slightly up into the rain. He went to stand beside her, feeling like he should be there for her whatever was going on.

"Ronon," she spoke his name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget what things used to be like, okay? Even though this part of your life is over, you can't deny it or forget it. You can't forget any of use, your people."

"You sound like you're afraid that we'll never see each other again."

"The future is never certain, Ronon. You don't know that this won't be the last time."

"Live every day as if it's you're last," Ronon quoted the phrase that he'd heard dozens of times on Athos. It was a motto he'd come to live by after he'd been captured in the attack on Sateda. He never knew how much longer he had; if he would survive the day. He almost never held back, except when it came to sharing his feelings, his past. But he could talk to Alina, he always could. And she knew his past; so there was nothing left to hide.

"Don't I know it," she murmured. Ronon frowned.

"What happened to you?" he asked. Alina seemed confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You've changed. You're so... serious now, and sad. You used to laugh."

"That part of my life is over," she said simply. "Just like the part of your life that involved me."

"Not now; you're here. Even if were the only ones left, Sateda still has a future.' She smiled.

"Get some rest, Ronon," she said softly. "It's a long walk to your family's manor." he obeyed. And instead of the unpleasant dreams hat had filled his mind before, what he dreamed now was about love; about Alina and Melena and Teyla.

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The next morning, Ronon woke up surrounded in a thick white mist that was turned bright by the sun. He didn't see Alina.

"Alina!" he called into the white world, absently wondering about the odd weather that was so unusual to Sateda, especially at this time of year,

Suddenly, Alina appeared out of the mist, startling him.

"Where were you?" he asked, trying to cover up his surprise.

"Walking," Alina said. "That's one thing that hasn't changed." she paused, smiling, and Ronon wondered if she was remembereing the long walks that they'd taken together when they were younger, "You have changed. You never used to sleep this long." It was the first glimpse that he'd had of the old Alina yet.

"Well you never used to make fun of how long I slept."

"More changes!" she teased. Ronon felt better about her now that she was acting like he rememebred.

"You hungry?" he asked after a while.

"No, not really."

"The Alina I remember would never turn down food."

"The Alina you remember was living on army rations. I would have eaten wormsif someone handed them to me on a plate."

"Yeah, we all woulda," he laughed, getting up. He reached down and pulled her up too.

"I'm heading for the manor country," he said. "Are you coming?"

"I'll catch up; I have my own remembrance to take care of here first."

"Alright, see you."

"Goodbye," she watched him go.

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Ronon walked through the forest as the mist started to fade. As he walked, he tried to figure Alina out. She had changed, and that bothered him a little; he wondered if he had changed that much, too. He still saw flickers, elements of the old Alina shining through; but talking to her now he wasn't sure he liked what he saw. Something drastic had happened to her to change her; Alina the unchanging and ever-strong. He wondered if it was the attack that had changed her, or something that had happened after that time.

It took him the better part of a day to reach the manor country, and his old family home. He hadn't spent huge amounts of time there; but he had spent the summers there, when his mother especially found the city too hot and crowded. And sometimes, when his unit was on leave he would come back here, with Alina or Melena or some of his buddies. Being back there brought up old memories long forgotten or repressed.

The house was much the same as he remembered; large and made of grayish-brown stone. It rose on a low green hill, surrounded by gardens long over-grown; his mother's gardens he used to play in as a child. The grounds were unkept, and the ivy climbing his house was higher than it used to be; fuller. His house. Another part of him that he was giving up.

He explored every inch of the place with new eyes, seeing it as Ronon of Altantis would, not the young Ronon of Sateda ot Specialist Ronon Dex. He saw the beauty in the freedom of the time-touched gardens; older and more ragged but comfortable and familiar and warm, gorwing as they were meant to. Everything seemed more real and alive now, in spite of the emptiness.

He was hesitant to enter the house, afraid of what he would find there. But curiosity eventually got the better of him. As the sun began it's western descent, he pushed opened the weathered wooden door and stepped inside.

Almost completely untouched.

Instantly his mind carried him back to his earliest days here, when all he worried about was if it was raining or not so that he could go outside, or if he could stay up late with his parents. He didn't have the responsibilities that he did now.

Somewhere in the house, he heard a clock strike two--- it was off. His mother had loved old things, that reminded her of her homeworld--- she had been a refugee to Sateda--- and the country house was that. The fairly advanced technology common to his people had never seemed to find its way in; she'd preferred grandfather clocks and fireplaces.

With each room he returned to his past, going back years and years... until he came to his childhood bedroom. A wave of emotion gripped him suddenly, and he had to force it down; it was just a room. But he had detailed, perfect memories of the room and everything in it; the faded quilt from his grandmother, the few toys scattered around the floor; the rocks that he'd collected while exploring the grounds were piled in a corner with a small sling; his first weapon. Little things, things that he'd never showed any of his friends, except for those that he'd grown up with. But in a moment of selfish longing he wanted his childhood back.

"You didn't used to be sad like you are now," Alina's voice came from behind him. He wondered how long she'd been there. "We were silly little children, aware of the beauty of nature and appreciative of simple little things that we have come to take for granted; like laughter."

"Not now," he countered, not turning to look at her.

"Not anymore," she agreed. "Now what we take for granted its time; time together." Ronon started to protest.

"We may not realize that we do; we may think that we very much appreciate it. But really we do not. When you saw me, you assumed that we would see each other many more times. But such is not the case."

"You can't know either way," Ronon began, turning around to face her. Without warning Alina took his face in her hands and kissed him, with a swirl of emotions behind it that he didn't understand.

"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly when she released him and stepped back.

"Goodbye," she gasped. "I am dying, Ronon. I've felt it coming for a long time, the life sucked out of me by the role of storm-bringer." He didn't want to believe that she'd become a storm-bringer--- someone whose emotions fueled the weather, which slowly killed them--- he wanted to deny it with all of his heart. But when he looked into her eyes he saw that they had changed color and turned deep blue; the mark of a storm-bringer. And he saw the part of her that he remembered, and he knew that she was dying.

"Alina, no! Come home with me, my friends will help you. One of them is a doctor-"

"Ronon," she shook her head. "Ronon, stop. There is nothing that any doctor can do."

"What can I do?" he begged desperately. Alina's voice was soft.

"You said yesterday that you were staying on Sateda for two weeks; spend it with me. It will happen during that time, but I don't want to be alone when it does."

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It was unbearably hard to spend those two weeks with Alina when he kenw that they were her last; but Ronon did. They spent the time visiting old havens and reminiscing about everything; and everything that they had ever wanted to say to each other they tried to say during those two weeks. They told stories and shared their experiences after the attack. Alina explained how she had become a storm-bringer, and Ronon told her about Atlantis. She liked his stories; she was glad that he had found his place again after so long running. She hated that she ad not been able to share that part of his ife; but she was a figure of his past, unable to remain in his life now that she'd found her way there.

When the time finally came, they were back at the manor, under a deep tangle of roses in the gardens that his mother had grown into a tunnel with enough room for them both to fit comfortably. Ronon held Alina in his arms, crying dry.

"Please don't," Alina whispered as the sky sucked the last of her energy away. "I want the last thing that I see to be you smiling. " he forced a weak, shaky smile onto his face, but his body still shook with tearless sobs.

"This is how it must be, Ronon," she said softly. "All things must come to an end, including life. You came here to come to terms with your past so that you can move forward. I'm the last link to your past here."

"Alina, I love you, so much. I don't want you to-" she cut him off with a kiss. Their last kiss.

"I know," she whispered. "I love you too." burying her hands in his now short hair, she worked through the knots with her fingers.

"Never forget me," she whispered, looking into his fiery eyes. Fireyes, his old nickname for her... "Goodbye, Dex."

"Goodbye, Fireyes." A moment later, she was gone.

Ronon had known that it was going to happen, but even so it crushed him. Lightning split the sky as an aftereffect of the storm-bringer's death. He held her body close, as if trying to will his own life into her, and screamed. A storm began to rage on, unabated.

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Morning dawned rosy gold, smelling fresh and clean and new. And Ronon had one final act of remembrance.

He buried Alina beneath the rose bushes where they had sat at the end, tenderly laying her to rest. He'd cut all of his dreadlocks off, but he had two left to place. One, he left in his old room, among his childhood things. The other he laid of Alina's grave; the last links to his past.

When he returned to Atlantis he was quieter than normal; sullen and subdued. It was enough that people noticed and knew to keep their distance, and as a result he spent most of his first day back alone. But around sunset Teyla sought him out, and she found him in the gym. She asked him if he was alright, and he instantly broke down; the first time that she'd seen him cry. She wrapped him in her arms and let her embrace comfort him; the first link to this part of his life.

Fin.

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A/N: I'm not gonna lie, I really love that ending. But it could be just me; leave a review and tell me how I did :O) (clown smiley; my favorite!)