Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 10/?

-Chapter 9-

Broken

Teyla wended her way through the pallets to Ronon's, fear tightening her throat. If the sickness could strike that quickly, from one moment to the next knocking someone down, the hope she'd had before was useless. There was no hope left. The entire village was doomed.

Ronon opened his eyes as she approached. Squinting at her in the dim light, he managed a smile. "I got all the herbs delivered," he whispered, voice hoarse.

Kneeling next to him, Teyla leaned close so no one else could hear their conversation. "That is good," she said, though that wasn't entirely what she meant. "But I do not believe all the herbs in the galaxy will have any effect on this sickness. It is too powerful, taking our people down too quickly." She didn't say what else she was thinking: it was only a matter of time before the healers began to fall ill, too.

He turned his head away to cough, then looked back at her with narrowed eyes. "What happened?" he asked. "Less than an hour ago, you were determined that this would work. Suddenly you're giving up?"

Teyla looked down at her hands, which she'd unconsciously clenched together in her lap. "This is what I meant yesterday, Ronon. The Ancestors are testing me, and I am failing miserably. I am not a leader – not a good one, anyway. I was not meant for this."

"Your father thought you were. I think you are." Ronon's eyes, glittering with fever, were surprisingly intense as he stared hard at her. "This is what I was talking about, Teyla. Your people need you now, more than ever. Be confident, have faith. This will all work out, somehow."

Tears prickled at her eyes. "But I do not feel confident," she whispered. "Father placed too much trust in me. No matter what you say, what I thought at first – I am not ready for this. Any of it."

Ronon grasped her hand, tugging at it slightly to draw her gaze back to his face. "You don't see what I see in you," he whispered. "What happened to the Teyla who beats me in sparring? Who's independent, strong, smart? What happened to her?"

"She is lost," Teyla responded. "She does not know where to turn. She – she feels like she is losing the one thing she had left." The words slipped out unbidden, but she realized that she'd been thinking them for a while. After her father's death, when she married Ronon, he'd become the one constant in her world. She'd taken him, his strength and confidence, for granted. Now she was losing the one thing that had kept her going as a leader. Without him, she couldn't face the Elders and their torments anymore.

"You never needed me," Ronon whispered. "Our people did, perhaps. We were both used to forge an alliance. But you never needed me. You can lead by yourself – you just have to have confidence in yourself. You need to go out there and show everyone you are a leader, and that you believe you are."

"But I do not believe I am. I do not know what to do!" Panic rose in her throat again. After her father had announced her as the next leader of Athos, she'd expected to have many more years to watch her father lead and learn from him. Instead, he'd been taken by the Wraith, leaving her to try to figure out everything on her own. The problem with that was she was failing her people, spectacularly.

Ronon propped himself up on his elbow, sweat beading on his brow. "You have everything you need, Teyla. Your father wouldn't have made you leader if he didn't think you could handle any crisis you would face. You can do this. You'll find a way. I know you will."

A reluctant smile tried to turn up the corners of her mouth. "Are you seeing the future now?"

He tried to smile back. "Maybe," he said. Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder, touched her face, then eased back down to his pallet again. "Now go out there and show those Elders you won't let them bully you any more. I'll be waiting to hear of your success."

A sudden, inexplicable urge made Teyla lean down to briefly press her lips against Ronon's forehead. "Feel better," she whispered. "I will try – no, I promise – not to disappoint you."

Ronon grinned, though his eyes didn't hold their usual sneaky sparkle. "Good girl." He patted her knee, hand briefly tightening when he turned his head to cough again. "Go show them who's boss."

Before she left, Teyla helped Ronon drink a cup of tea. Since he wasn't as bad as some of the others – yet – most of the medicinal herbs were going towards helping the very old and very young, and the very first ones who had come down with the illness. She mixed a little honey into the usual blend to help soothe his throat and settle his stomach. While she helped him, sip by painful sip, she prayed it would help. Without his unwavering confidence in her, she knew she would have failed long before this.

The moment she left Charin's tent, she headed across the village to Puja's. The young woman stood from where she'd been helping a patient when Teyla entered. Her eyes were tired, her formerly white apron covered in a number of unidentifiable stains. One red one, though, jumped immediately to Teyla's attention. She nearly stopped breathing.

Puja shook her head, leading Teyla as far away from the patients as the tent allowed. "Some of them have started coughing up blood," she whispered. "One of the Elders is dead. Another is not far behind him." Her usually smooth forehead was wrinkled in worry.

Teyla rubbed her forehead. Her lack of sleep and the stress was beginning to catch up with her. "How much longer?"

"An hour. Maybe two."

Dear Ancestors, why are you doing this? "How much time passed between the time the first Elder came in, and when he died?"

Puja paused, counting on her fingers. "Less than ten hours."

Teyla moaned softly. "That does not give us much time." She quickly looked around the tent, at all the faces staring back at her. Her eyes paused only briefly when she got to the single covered pallet. "Ronon and I discussed sending someone to one of our allied worlds to get more herbs, and more healers. But we cannot risk infecting other worlds with this sickness. If we are not careful, we could start a galaxy-wide epidemic that cannot be stopped."

The healer closed her eyes briefly. "We are running out of herbs," she said softly. "I do not know what to do when they are gone."

We will have to find another way, Teyla thought. "I am not a healer – but is there any way we could combine herbs, to make a medicine to heal this sickness?"

Puja's eyes brightened a little. "The library," she whispered.

Teyla blinked. "The library?" she repeated.

"The scribes have recorded Athosian history for many generations," Puja said. "It is possible an epidemic such as this has hit before. If we could find that entry, and see what the healers did then. . ."

". . .We might be able to fix our problem now," Teyla said. "I will find what scribes I can that have not fallen ill yet and assist them myself." After Puja wrote down the symptoms to look for, Teyla pulled up her hood and went back out into the cold.

Her search of the entire village offered her the help of three scribes. Athos normally boasted the service of twelve. But, Teyla reflected grimly as they all settled down with scrolls, she would happily accept what service she could get.

It continued to snow even after the sun rose. The death toll was up to seven, and each death drove another knife of pain into Teyla's heart. There had to be something in the histories that would help them!

Teyla lost one of her helpers by mid-morning. She escorted the woman to the closest healer's tent, then went back to the library. When she arrived, she found the other two scribes still hard at work, shunning much-needed sleep to try to help their people survive.

A few hours later, Teyla became aware of a scratchy ache at the back of her throat. No, no, she thought desperately. She quickly made herself more tea, mixing some honey in. She couldn't be sick. She had work to do. She had to save her village. Ronon – the entire village – was counting on her. She couldn't let them down.

The coughing started less than twenty minutes later. She coughed so hard she was sure her lungs would fly out of her mouth; deep, rattling coughs that brought the remaining two scribes immediately to her side. "Teyla?" the other woman asked nervously.

"I am fine," Teyla assured them. But her voice was already hoarse, ruining the impression she'd meant to convey. "Please, go back to work. I am fine." But she wasn't, she knew she wasn't. She was sick now, too. Which meant it was only a matter of time before her helpers would start showing symptoms, too.

Teyla wrapped herself in her coat, clenching her teeth and pressing her hands atop the ends of the scroll on the table in front of her to keep from shaking. She could no longer hold the scrolls up to read them, since she was shivering so hard she couldn't make out the words. There wasn't a part of her body that didn't ache, hotly and ferociously. She felt like if she moved, she would fall apart. But she forced herself to keep working, and keep gulping down tea to keep her going as long as she could.

She rolled up her most recent scroll and set it aside. Then she jumped to her feet and ran outside, going around the side of the tent before she retched up all the tea she'd taken in over the course of the morning. Teyla wrapped her arms around her heaving stomach, falling to her knees in the thick, cold snow as she kept vomiting. Tears streaked her cheeks, freezing on her face with the snowflakes that battered against her in the chill wind.

"Teyla!" Suddenly Charin was there, kneeling next to her despite the snow. Teyla saw the younger scribe, the male, hovering nearby, face anxious. Apparently he'd gone to get her help. "Thank you," she managed to whisper between heaves.

He smiled thinly and ducked back into the tent.

Charin swiped her hand across Teyla's forehead. "Ancestors, child. You are burning with fever!"

Teyla's teeth rattled violently as another shiver ripped through her. "I am c-c-cold," she chattered. "Help me up," she whispered. "I must get some blankets – I will wrap myself in them, and go back to the library. I must—"

Her friend silenced her swiftly. Wrapping an arm around the younger woman's shoulders, she helped her stand. "Shh, Teyla," she commanded. "You are in no condition to work. You have worked far past your limit. In fact, if I had known you were like this, I would have—"

"Did Byron get you?" Teyla questioned to get Charin off the subject.

"No," Charin said. "He was coming to get me, but I met him halfway here. I was coming to see you, anyway."

Teyla's stomach nearly rebelled again, this time in fear. "Why?" she whispered.

Charin looked at her long and hard, as if trying to figure out whether Teyla was in any condition to hear what she had to say.

"Please," Teyla begged.

Her friend sighed. "Things have gotten progressively worse over the past few hours. Since you went into the library, four more have died. And – and Ronon has started coughing up some blood. Not a lot – but I believe it – it is only a matter of time."

Teyla's hands clenched into fists. Shrugging off Charin's arm, she turned back in the direction of the library. "I cannot stop working," she whispered. She staggered and nearly fell, but somehow managed to keep her balance. The white world around her tipped and spun unsteadily, but she closed her eyes briefly and kept pushing her way through the snow drifts. "I must find what we need."

Charin caught her arm. "Teyla, stop! What if what you are looking for is not in the histories? What if this is the first time this has happened? What then?"

Teyla grasped Charin's arms to keep herself upright. "At least then I will know I tried!" she said. "They are looking to me for help, to save them. I must not let them down, Charin! Father trusted me enough to put me in charge. I cannot let down his memory! And Ronon – he trusts me now. I cannot let him down." More tears streaked down her face, following the trails the already frozen ones had made. "Please, Charin, let me go."

Her friend hesitated. Teyla could see that Charin saw the determination in her eyes, and knew she couldn't stop her. "All right," she sighed. "But please do two things for me before you go back?"

Teyla stepped back, wary. "What?"

"Come see Ronon. He is asking for you. And please let me give you some herbs to help calm your stomach. You cannot work if you have to keep jumping up every few minutes to empty your stomach."

Reluctantly, Teyla agreed. She allowed Charin to support her all the way to her tent, which was far warmer than the outdoors. Teyla was grateful for the chance to wipe her face and rinse her mouth before she went to kneel by Ronon's pallet again. She tried to put on a brave face, to act like she wasn't sick herself. She should have known better.

Ronon opened her eyes when he felt her next to him. His hand sluggishly moved to rest on her knee, squeezing lightly. "Teyla. Thank you for coming. I did not think you would."

She blinked rapidly. Hot tears pressed at the backs of her eyes. He looks terrible. In so few hours. . . "It is the least I can do," she said simply. "Something to repay the confidence you have in me."

He nodded. "Charin told me about your plan. That you've been working in the library." Ronon drew in a sharp breath, eyes tightly closed. His hand contracted around her knee almost painfully. "Sorry," he said, relaxing again. He looked closer at her, at the way she huddled in her coat, at the way her hands subtly trembled even though she had them clenched tightly in her lap. "You're sick too." It wasn't a question.

Teyla looked away. "As soon as Charin prepares me some herbal tea, I will drink it and go back to the library," she said. "I am not going to stop working."

Ronon took her chin in his hand, turning her face back to him. "You cannot help your people if you kill yourself," he whispered. "That was not what I meant when I told you to go show the Elders that you're the best leader Athos has ever seen."

She couldn't help the tears that spilled out of her eyes. "I cannot stop," she whispered. "If I do not, who will? I have two scribes left to help me, and I know it is only a matter of time before they fall ill and must stop."

"Why are you forcing yourself to do what you would not ask them to?" he demanded softly. "You just admitted you won't ask them to work after they get sick. You are already sick, and you are planning to force yourself to work far beyond what you are capable."

"As long as I am able to sit, read, and think, I am going to work." She would not allow herself to be talked out of it – even though, deep inside her, she wanted to be.

Ronon pushed himself to a sitting position, his jaw locked firmly. Teyla gasped, reaching out to take him by the shoulders. "What are you doing?!"

His eyes, sunken and dark, glared at her with manic determination. "If you are going to work, so am I."

"No!" Teyla protested. "You are sick, you cannot work! You should be staying here, resting, trying to get better!"

Ronon's eyes gleamed, and she suddenly knew he'd tricked her. "Why don't you take your own advice?" he asked.

Hysterical laughter welled to her throat, trying to escape. Teyla swallowed it back, knowing it was inappropriate to laugh in such a situation. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" she demanded softly.

A tired smile flickered in his eyes, even though it didn't touch his lips. "Is it working?"

"Yes, Ronon, I believe it is." Teyla gently but firmly pushed him back down onto his pallet. "You will not talk me out of working, though."

Ronon pulled away and rolled over, coughing over a small bowl set next to his cot. When he rolled over again, he held a cloth to his lips. Teyla saw the red liquid in the bowl, and felt her face go white. "Especially not after that," she said, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

He closed his eyes, hand tightly clenched around the red-smeared white cloth. "I didn't want you to see that," he said.

Teyla looked around until she found a bowl of water with a cloth inside, close by her knee. She wrung out the cloth and carefully washed Ronon's face and sweaty forehead with the cool water.

Ronon caught her wrist, looking up at her as seriously as she'd ever seen him. "Please, Teyla," he whispered. "Don't go back."

With him looking at her like that, she almost gave in. The illness had changed everything: how she felt about being a leader, how she looked upon her people, how she felt about Ronon. It was all so confusing! "I have to," she said, but her voice wavered. The world suddenly tipped and spun again, nearly knocking her off balance.

Reaching up, Ronon quickly planted one hand against her shoulder. "That's what I'm talking about!" he said. His voice was almost gone. "You can't do this. You've done all you can – it's time to let others take over."

"There is no one left." Teyla braced her hands against the floor. "Jus' – just me." She swallowed and closed her eyes, praying for the world to stop spinning. She felt like she might throw up again, and she was sure Ronon wouldn't appreciate it if she did so all over him.

Across the tent, the flaps whipped open. A great swirl of snow and cold air rushed through the tent before they dropped shut again. The two scribes came in, one of them supporting the other.

Charin set down her supplies from where she'd been preparing Teyla's tea and hurried over to them. "Are you ill?" she questioned anxiously.

"Yes," Byron said, straightening. "But I think we found what you need." He held up a scroll toward Charin, like a champion fighter holding up his sword in victory.

Teyla's friend snatched the scroll from Byron's hand, carefully unrolling it. Her eyes quickly scanned the words it held, then she looked up with a quick smile. "Everyone, stay calm!" she called. "We will potentially have the cure for this in just a little while. Just hold on."

Ronon looked up at her, a small smile on his face. "See, Teyla?" he whispered. "I told you everything would be okay."

"But it still feels like I failed them." The edges of her vision were beginning to go dark. She blinked sluggishly – had there always been so many people in this tent? Or had the number doubled in the past few minutes?

"Teyla? Teyla!" Ronon pushed himself up on his elbow, reaching out with his other arm to catch her as she slumped over him. She just couldn't hold herself up anymore.

"Charin!" Ronon called. "Hurry – it's Teyla!"

That was the last thing she remembered.

-To Be Continued-

Once more, I apologize for taking so-o-o long to update! Right after Christmas I got sick, then I was no sooner better than I had to go back to college. On the bright side, I got a lot of writing done over my time in bed, but my beta has been sick, too (I think she caught it from me), so she hasn't been able to do much, either. But I promise we will try to get updates out to you as soon as we possibly can. At the moment I am in the middle of a huge snow/ice storm that has literally frozen the middle section of America, so I'm hoping to keep our power to get another update – either "Ghost" or "Empire" – up tomorrow. Thank you so much for your patience, and I once more apologize for taking so long! ~fyd

TubaPrincess: Thank you! Yes, Ronon and Teyla are starting to trust each other more than before, but their trials are far from over. Once more, I'm so sorry for making you wait so long for the next update. But I have a lot of chapters done in advance (just finished 35, I think?) so as long as I can keep my beta working, I have a lot of chapters for backup for updating. Actually where I live it hasn't been too bad weather-wise, until today. But, on the bright side, I get at least 3 days off from college, so whoopee! Free and unexpected, but welcome, vacation. I hope the weather where you live has improved! Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Bunnylass: Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the pep talk Ronon gave her in the beginning of the last chapter. I think they both really needed that. Yes, before it's all over, the majority of the village will fall. . . But I can assure you it's all going to be okay. Eventually. Though there are quite a few more trials in our intrepid lovers' futures. . . LOL Okay, I'll stop being enigmatic now. I'm sorry again for how long it's taken me to update, but I've had a lot of time to write while in bed, so I'll get my beta busy betaing and will hopefully be able to keep updates (at least on this story, hopefully the others) coming smoothly. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

noturna: Thank you! I'm very glad you've enjoyed my story so far. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update now, but I have written a lot recently to have backup chapters, so I'll try to keep chapters coming out smoothly from here on out. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Alexiel974: Wow, thank you! -hugs- Though you might take that back now, considering how long it took me to update again. . . -blushes- First of all, I'm sorry I almost made you cry! I promise smiles are coming soon. But this is one of many trials Ronon and Teyla will face in the near future. . . I'm glad you like the way Ronon is trusting Teyla, and showing her he does. It hasn't been an easy journey, for either of them, learning to trust each other. Especially, like you said, with the Elders hounding Teyla's every decision, every move. But they're learning! And what doesn't kill them – will make them stronger! LOL Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!