Authors Notes: This fic is rated R because of issues of child physical abuse and neglect that will appear more in later chapters. If that upsets you then please, don't read on.

xoxo xoxo xoxo

"I am Teyla Emmagen, daughter of Tagan. I am the leader of my people."

"Not yet, you're not!" Meyles pounced from behind, knocking the eight year old girl to the ground. They landed in a pile, laughing. "And you never will be if you let people sneak up on you like that," he told her. She grinned up at him. Meyles had been her best friend since they were infants. Their parents were close friends, and she and Meyles had grown up together as brother and sister.

"I am just practicing for when I am older," she told him as he pulled her to her feet. "I will be the best leader our people could ever ask for."

"Better than your father?" Meyles asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

"No one is better than my father," Teyla told him.

"Why thank you, my daughter," Tagan said as he came up behind them. Teyla blushed when she saw him.

"Father, I did not see you there."

"I am sorry to startle you, but your mother has prepared dinner for you and Meyles," Tagan told her. He was a tall, strong man with a good heart and a quick mind. He adored his only child, and the feeling was mutual. Teyla idolized her father and followed him whenever she could.

The two children smiled and started towards Teyla's home. Tagan fell into step beside his daughter, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You will be wonderful leader Teyla," he told her. "You are strong, your heart is brave and your mind is sharp. I have every faith in you, my daughter and am certain that you will do wonderful things in your life."

"Thank you father," Teyla whispered, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, just as fiercely.

In that moment, Teyla felt as loved and cherished as any child could ever be.

In her quarters in Atlantis, Teyla smiled in her sleep, and surrendered to the dream.

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Aiden sat at the kitchen table, doing his math homework. The house was filled with wonderful smells and his Grandma hummed and sang softly as she bustled around him, setting the table and making the dinner. Aiden smiled and kicked his legs in rhythm with his Grandma's song. It was an old song from the fifties, and one that she always sang so he knew it well.

Mary Ford looked up when the door opened and Aiden's Grandpa Frank came in from work.

"Evenin' darlin'," he said, stopping to kiss his wife on the cheek.

"Hello Frank. How was work?" she asked as she continued to bustle around the kitchen.

"Same old, same old," he replied. He smiled at Aiden who was concentrating hard on a problem.

"I have something for you," he told him. Aiden looked up, confused.

"You do? Why? It's not my birthday."

"Do I need a reason to treat my favourite grandson?" Frank asked, smiling. Aiden grinned happily as he opened up the bag from the local sports shop. "I saw this when I was on my lunch break, and I wanted to get it for you," his grandfather told him.

"You're going to spoil him you know," Mary scolded gently from the kitchen. Neither of them took her scolding seriously, because they were both aware that she spoiled Aiden as much as Frank did whenever he came to visit, perhaps even more so.

"Nah, my grandson is to good natured to be spoiled completely, aren't you?" Frank asked Aiden, as the boy put on the brand new baseball cap.

Aiden smiled at his grandfather.

"Yes Sir!"

"Listen to that. 'Yes Sir'. I swear, our boy is going to end up a General some day," Mary said, the pride evident in her voice.

"Well, whatever you do, we're proud of you. You know that, don't you?" Frank asked Aiden.

"Of course I do Grandpa," Aiden said, hugging his grandfather.

"We love you," Mary said, joining the hug.

"I love you guys too."

Aiden shifted in his sleep, a smile playing over his lips as he dreamt on.

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"Lizzie! Lizzie! Come on! Last one to the lake is a rotten egg!"

Twelve year old Elizabeth ran to catch up with her fifteen year old cousins as they raced towards the wooden jetty. Their families were renting a cabin in Wanakena, a few hundred miles from New York City. They were surrounded by miles and miles of woodland, and beautiful lakes and beaches, and Elizabeth and her two cousins were having the time of their lives.

She stopped at the edge of the jetty, and nervously looked down into the water. She wasn't the best of swimmers, and wasn't very confident in the water. The water below her looked deep and Elizabeth felt shards of panic spear through her.

"Come on Lizzie, jump!" her cousin Bella called. Bella and her twin brother Mathew were both in the lake, treading water about ten feet out from the jetty.

"I'm nervous," Elizabeth finally admitted as she backed away from the edge. Mathew and Bella swam towards her.

"Don't worry Lizzie," Mathew called. "We're right here. We'll catch you. We promise."

Elizabeth looked from her cousins, to the water, and back to her cousins again. She trusted them. They were her family. If they said they'd catch her, then they would.

"Ok, here I go," Lizzie told them. She backed away a few paces, then closed her eyes and ran for the edge. She sailed through the air, landing with a large splash. She felt herself go under, and for a moment, she panicked when she couldn't reach the bottom. Then, two pairs of hands grabbed a hold of her arms, and pulled her back up to the surface. She broke through, and took a deep breath. Bella and Mathew were right there beside her, holding her up and smiling broadly.

"You did it Lizzie!" Bella exclaimed.

"We're proud of you," Mathew added.

"I only jumped in. It's not a big deal," Elizabeth told them, blushing at their praise.

"It was a big deal to you," Mathew reminded her. "It took a lot of courage for you to do that, didn't it?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm not at my best in the water," she told them.

"Well, we'll just have to remedy that, wont we?" Bella said, grinning. "Are you up for a few lessons?"

"You don't have to try to teach me," Elizabeth told them. "We're supposed to be having fun."

"This is fun for us," Mathew assured her. "You ready?"

Elizabeth smiled, and spent the next hour learning how to swim properly.

Elizabeth rolled over in her sleep, lost in the memory of the good old days.

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Rodney stared up at his father, waiting for the next blow to fall. It came, and was harder than he had expected. He stumbled against the wall, his ears ringing from the force of the strike.

Rodney could see his mother on the floor by the window, cradling his younger sister, and screaming on the top of her lungs

"Stop it Malcolm! You'll kill him!"

The only reply she got was a grunted "Good."

Rodney stood shakily again, facing the tyrant that was his father. Malcolm towered above his sixteen year old son, his face dark with rage.

"You dare stand up to me? To back-talk ME?" he roared. He balled up his fist, and punched Rodney in the ribs, causing the boy to double over in pain.

"You're worthless, you know that? For all you abilities, your 'intelligence', you still can't defend yourself. You're no son of mine!"

"I wish!" Rodney yelled, finding strength where he had none before. "I wish I wasn't your son!"

It turned out to be a mistake. Malcolm McKay seemed to grow five inches taller as he stared down at his horrified son.

Had he really just said that to his father? Rodney couldn't believe he had. He was going to be in serious trouble.

Malcolm was inarticulate with rage. The boy dare…, he dared to yell at him? Imply he wasn't good enough to be his father?

Rodney was still doubled over from the blow he was sure had cracked a few ribs. Malcolm grabbed his shoulders and slammed his knee into Rodney's gut. Rodney gasped in pain, and was certain that this time, his father had broken something. Malcolm hauled his son up, and slammed him against the wall.

Rodney's head snapped back, and crashed into the wall with tremendous force. Everything got fuzzy as his legs collapsed and he slid into a sitting position, unknowingly leaving a blood trail down the wall as he faded in and out of consciousness.

The last thing he remembered before darkness overtook him was his mother and sister's heart-wrenching screams and his father's grunt of satisfaction.

Rodney bolted upright in his bed, a silent scream on his lips. He was drenched in sweat, and his heart was racing. For a second, he looked around wildly, trying to find where his father was hidden. His heart rate slowed and his breathing even out as he took in his surroundings.

He was safe in his and John's quarters in Atlantis. That bastard was a billion miles away on Earth; billions of miles away from the person he had many times beaten into unconsciousness. Rodney glanced over at his sleeping husband, checking to see if he was awake. John was sprawled out on his stomach, snoring softly, dead to the world.

Rodney winced at his own thoughts.

Dead to the world.

He had almost been dead to the world after that attack. His father had broken two of his ribs; one of which had almost punctured his lung. He had fractured his skull when his father slammed him against the wall, and it had taken Rodney several days to wake up from the coma he had been in.

God, why was he thinking of that? He hadn't thought, never mind dreamt, about his father in so long, ever since his mother had been told that her son was in a coma and had finally gotten the courage to get a restraining order and a divorce. He hadn't seen the man in twenty years, and didn't even know if he was alive or dead. So why was he dreaming of this now? And for the third night running?

John shifted sleepily, and looked at him through drowsy eyes.

"Rodney? Everything ok?" he asked his silent husband. He placed a soothing hand on Rodney's back, and felt the tense muscles under the skin. He blinked to clear his head and shifted into a sitting position.

"Rodney?" he asked again, shaking his husband slightly. Rodney blinked and seemed to come out of a trance.

"John?" he asked, confused. "I thought you were asleep."

"Well, I was. But I missed that lovely pocket of warmth that is usually trying to burrow its way into my side," John joked. He expected Rodney to come back with some snappy remark, but Rodney just blinked slowly, and said "Oh. Sorry."

"Ok, what's the matter?" John asked again. "I'm getting worried now. You just passed up a chance to get bitchy at me, and that's not like you."

"I'm sorry John," Rodney said, lying back down. "I just had a nightmare."

"About the Wraith?" John guessed.

"Yes… the Wraith."

Rodney was lying, John could tell. He knew his husband too well. John knew that Rodney had a fucked up past, and that he never, ever spoke about anything that happened before he was eighteen. Still, he wasn't going to push it. If and when Rodney was ready to talk, he would be there.

"Try and get back to sleep," John told him, curling into his husbands back and placing a protective arm around his waist. "We still have a few hours before we have to get up and play host to the Thesarians." He yawned widely. "I'm going to try and go back to my dream. It was my tenth birthday, and there was cake... lots of cake," he told Rodney.

His husband smiled automatically, and John frowned. Something was defiantly up. They had only been married for three months, but they had been best friends for two years before they had even gotten together, and another year before they had married. He knew the man beside him better than anybody, and was very worried that he wasn't his usual snarky self.

John eventually fell asleep, his breathing evening out in the darkness. Rodney curled into John's warmth, but he didn't sleep.

He spent the night and early morning staring at the sky through the window of their home.

xoxo xoxo xoxo

More to come soon. Review and I will love you forever!