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

Part 25/40

-Chapter 24-

Sweet Dreams

"Go, go, go, people!" Sheppard yelled. "Evacuate back to the camp."

In one swift movement reminiscent of the evening before, Ronon wrapped his arm around Teyla, putting his body between her and the threat above. He yanked out his blaster, spinning it as he set it to kill mode.

"No!" Teyla threw up her hand to push his down. "Do not shoot at it! That made it worse."

Frustrated, Ronon faced her with a scowl. "Then what do you suggest?" he demanded.

She pushed frantically at him. "Do what John said – go back to camp!" She couldn't stand to let what happened in her dream become reality. To see him torn and bloody – dead – in real life: that would be ten times worse. "Please, Ronon, go!"

The Atlantian colonel jogged up to them. "Everyone else is on their way back to camp!" he gasped out. "We're all that's left."

"Please!" Teyla begged again. She tugged frantically on his arm. It was incredibly selfish of her, but she would sacrifice everyone else just to save Ronon. He had to be safe. She couldn't do this – whether it be fulfilling her destiny or just living from day to day – without him.

Ronon and John swapped looks over her head. "Let's go," the former said quietly.

Once under cover of the woods, Teyla breathed a little easier. But immediately she tensed when she heard the creature scream again.

"It's okay!" Ronon said. His hand, still gripping hers, helped him gently pull her along through the trees with him. "It's not following us."

Not until they broke through into the chaos of the camp did Teyla dare relax. As the adrenaline rush she'd been thriving on wore off, she began to shake. Teeth chattering, she leaned against Ronon.

Elizabeth came toward them from where she'd been talking to McKay. "Are you three okay?" she questioned anxiously.

"We're fine," John said. He patted her arm comfortingly. "How about you?"

"We're all present and accounted for," she assured him. "What was that – thing?"

"Th-That's what attacked us the f-first night we were here-re," Teyla chattered out.

"Or something like it, at least." Ronon bent at the waist to lift Teyla again. "Come on, back to the infirmary."

Sheppard and Weir discreetly vanished.

"No," she moaned. "I want to go to my tent."

Ronon sighed. "Okay – we'll stop by the infirmary, and if the Doc says it's okay – then I'll take you to your tent."

Carson – after a bit of fussing – let her go. Teyla thanked him profusely but tiredly, willingly leaning into Ronon's warmth as he carried her back to her tent. Someone had been kind enough to set it up again – even her bedroll, which was neatly placed along the back wall.

Ronon knelt to lay her on the rolled out pallet. He helped her take her shoes off, then pulled the covers over her. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well," he whispered.

Teyla caught his hand as he started to leave. "Wait!" she begged. "Please do not leave me alone." She bit her lip, afraid to admit she was scared to be alone. She knew her earlier vision would re-manifest itself in nightmares, and she needed to have Ronon with her, to assure herself he was okay. Besides, she was afraid she'd have another vision – and she did not want to be by herself when it happened.

Ronon hesitated, staring down at their joined hands. A very soft expression entered his eyes, and this time when he leaned down, he kissed her lips. "I promise I'll be right back." He let go, disappearing out her tent door.

Teyla curled into a little ball under her covers, afraid to move. Warmth slowly thawed the chill in her bones, and lethargy took over. Her eyelids began to droop, but she didn't allow herself to fall asleep. Not yet – not until Ronon came back.

Her heroic protector came back just a few minutes later, as promised. He carried his bedroll under one arm, and it looked like he'd changed into a fresh set of clothes. "You look tired," Ronon said. He stretched out his bedroll next to hers and sat down. Reaching out, he brushed the pads of his fingers along her cheek. "Is this okay?"

Teyla stared drowsily at him, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her face. "Is what okay?" she asked, confused.

"The last time I stretched my bedroll by yours, you pushed me into a table and accused me of taking advantage of you." A teasing smile tugged at one corner of Ronon's mouth.

"Stop being sarcastic," Teyla mumbled. "Jus' want you here. I trust you." She yawned. "'Night." She couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.

Once more, Ronon's warm lips pressed a kiss to her temple. She felt more than heard him shift, then his fingers twined with hers. "Good night, mi nanga."

That was the last thing she remembered for a long while.

-Teyla's Tent-

Teyla woke with the feeling a long time had passed her by while she slept. Though she felt quite a bit more rested, lassitude clung to her like a veil. She didn't want to move. She was warm, and comfortable, and. . .

. . .Her head was pillowed on Ronon's shoulder, her arm draped over his chest. Heat suffused her face, swiftly and unrelentingly. Giving a little squeak of surprise, Teyla tried to squirm away without waking him.

Ronon's arm had worked its way around her waist overnight. Mumbling something undistinguishable into her hair, his arm tightened around her. "Go back to sleep," he muttered then.

Slowly, she gave up trying to extricate herself. Ronon clung to her tightly, as if afraid to let her go. Every time she moved, he tightened his grip on her a little. Even though he immediately loosened his hold, she knew it was pointless. Well, if she was going to be stuck here anyway – she might as well enjoy the experience.

Teyla gently lay her head back down on Ronon's shoulder, face tilted up so she could watch his. Asleep, he didn't look as stressed, as worried, as he did when awake. His features smoothed, making him look younger. Sometimes she found it hard to remember their true ages – over the course of this wild adventure, she felt at least ten years older than she really was. She wondered if Ronon felt that way, too. Here, though, with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, she felt normal – perhaps for the first time ever. This was the way life should be.

Of their own accord, her fingers lifted to trace across his face. She barely touched him, afraid she'd wake him up if she pressed too hard. His honey skin felt warm and smooth, and she sighed. It was a relief to know he was uninjured – so, in a way, she should be thankful for her vision, if that was what it was.

Teyla's warm, fuzzy mood waned. Sighing, she draped her arm over Ronon's chest again and closed her eyes. What a strange, strange life she and Ronon led.

When she was on the threshold of sleep again, Ronon stirred. "Morning, Teyla."

"Actually – I believe it is more like evening." Reluctantly, she pried her eyelids open again. "Did you sleep well?"

A sneaky grin lit up his face. "I did," he chuckled. Suddenly serious again, he asked, "You?"

"Fine." Teyla shifted a little, curious. Ronon immediately dropped his arm away from her waist, but when she didn't move, he curled it around her again. Another smile warmed her inside-out. Maybe this wasn't so bad, after all. "I believe it is a wonder no one has come to check on us."

Ronon kissed the top of her head. "You're complaining?"

"No." She snuggled her head a little tighter against his shoulder. "Thank you for staying."

He lifted his free hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "Thanks for letting me." He kissed her forehead. "Not to seem ungrateful – but why'd you ask?"

Teyla turned her gaze away from his. "I – wanted to make sure. If I had another vision – or dreamed of my other – I wanted to know you were here, with me."

"Oh, Teyla." He sighed, face nuzzling into her hair. "I promise I won't leave you."

"You cannot make that promise." She swallowed, wondering where her good feelings from before had gone. "Not with things the way they are – not with all that danger. . ." She trailed off, biting her lip until she tasted blood.

Ronon's thumb softly traced across her cheekbone. "What did you see, earlier? In your vision?" he asked softly. He seemed hesitant, but not uncomfortable, saying the word vision. It was strange, how this experience had helped them to accept even the strangest of things as true.

Teyla closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. "Please do not ask me that," she whispered. Against her will, tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her throat felt hot and tight as she tried to swallow back her sobs. "I cannot talk about it. I-I am sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Not after – after the way you reacted earlier. I guess I can imagine." He gently patted her side with the hand at her waist. "Thank you, for coming to get us."

"You," she corrected into the curve of his neck.

". . .Me?"

She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "My vision – everything was fuzzy but the creature, and you." She didn't want to say or think it for sure, but she wondered if this was the first of many visions – and, more specifically, if she was able to predict possible courses in Ronon's future. What a gift – and a curse – that would be: to see any danger to Ronon, and stop it before it happened. To prevent his death, so she could keep him with her. . .

He looked at her with thoughtful but sad eyes. Then he sighed, kissed her lips, and hugged her a little closer.

Teyla tightened the arm she had over his chest and hoped this closeness would be a common theme for the rest of their lives – however long that may be.

-To Be Continued-