Author's note: Thank you, as always, for reading and reviewing! Only the epilogue to go!

VIII. Honor

Carson rubbed his eyes as he blearily reached to set his coffee cup down on his desk when a voice from behind startled him with a "Mornin', Doc." His jump of surprise sent his mug onto the floor, shattering the ceramic. Sheppard looked down at the broken, painted pegasus on the spreading pool of coffee and winced. "...Sorry 'bout that. I'll help you clean it up."

The loud noise had made both natives of the galaxy startle into wakefulness, still snuggled close. Teyla looked around, a few wisps of hair clinging to her cheek that had rested to the pillow. She brushed them away with her free hand as she looked down at Ronon who was wincing from the pain his sudden movement had caused. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, his eyes squeezed shut.

She gently untangled her arm from under his neck and sat up, still watching him then looking to the entranceway when she heard muted voices. She rested a hand on his tricep, worried over his display of pain, even though it was controlled. "I will go get Dr. Beckett."

"Okay." His quiet, sleepy voice made her fight the urge to turn back and hug him as she climbed off of the bed and headed towards the source of the sound.

She smiled in greeting when she found Carson and Sheppard throwing away paper towels and a broken something.
"Good morning, Teyla." Sheppard smiled at her.

"Good morning, love." Beckett wiped at something on the bottom of his pant leg.

She inclined her head. "Good morning."

Carson was studying how her hair was lank on one side. "So you finally got some sleep afterall, did you?"

Teyla gave him a small nod. "Yes, I did. However Ronon is awake now and I believe-"

"Oh, yes. Right." Carson brushed past to check on his patient.

Sheppard slipped his hands into his pockets. "So, uh, how's he doin'?"

"I do not know for certain. He is..." she tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "Still in pain. However he awoke and spoke to me last night."

"Well, that's good."

There was an awkward silence where Sheppard wanted to ask what Ronon had said, and where Teyla avoided his gaze, not offering any secrets with which Ronon had entrusted her. "I'm just gonna' go tell him hi then get some breakfast. You hungry?"

Her stomach nearly lurched it was so empty. "Yes I am."

She followed Sheppard back to Ronon's bedside and watched as Sheppard patted the Satedan on the shoulder and promised to come back soon. He tugged on Teyla's elbow as he passed. "You comin' to breakfast?"

She looked between the colonel and Beckett who was quietly attempting to convince Ronon that he needed to eat something. "I..." She still felt that she needed to stay.

Sheppard followed her gaze and bit his lip, then nodded. "Okay." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'll bring you something."

She smiled. "You are very kind."

He winked. "It's what I do." He strolled out and Carson followed him to get more coffee after having treated Ronon for the moment.

Teyla walked back over to his bed and smiled at him in greeting as she resumed her familiar seat by his side. He was chewing on the tip of his thumb, studying the IV. She cocked her head as she realized he was avoiding her gaze. "Do you feel better, Ronon?"

He nodded and pulled his thumb away from his mouth.

She reached out and rested her hand on his with a smile and a reassuring squeeze. Her heart dipped when he waited a heartbeat then tugged his hand away from hers. As she processed the simple action a small rift seemed to form in her chest. Her lips parted as she thought to say something, but no words made it past the scared tightening of her throat. She felt her cheeks color and she looked down, her hair curtaining her face.

"Teyla..." Just the tone of his voice made her breath shorten and time seemed to slow. She hadn't admitted just how much she'd begun to hope until she realized how afraid she was of what he was about to say. "...I can't." When he offered no more her eyes slowly found his.

His expression was pained, his light green eyes apologetic. She bit the inside of her lower lip and curled her fingers in towards her palm, her hand recoiling to her lap.

He'd pivoted his shoulders to better look at her without lying on his stitches. "I..." His eyes searched her face for the span of a few breaths, his struggle for expression apparent. "I'm broken."

She shook her head, the tears that stung her eyes surprising her. "You are not, Ronon-"

"Yes I am, Teyla." He swallowed. He'd changed so much from who he was in his life on Sateda that he often wondered if he possessed the same body. It terrified him to think that Melena would detest who he was today. "I'm too scarred."

"You are strong, Ronon. All wounds heal in time."

"She died in front of me."

Teyla blinked in surprise, cocking her head a little. "Who did?"

He found the acknowledgement incredibly hard to voice. "Melena... my wife."

Teyla leaned back a little as shock coursed through her. She'd never read the signs to anticipate this and was fighting to remain composed. "I am... so very sorry. I did not even know that you were married."

He glanced away from her, studying the siding of the bed. "We got married pretty young. Well, I was young. We wanted to live in a house in the farmlands..." He started to stop himself, not understanding his need to tell her all of this when he hadn't even found the strength to say Melena's name in so long. "But then the Wraith attacked and... she died."

Teyla bit the inside of her cheek, still struggling through her shock to find an appropriate response that would not further display what her hopes had been for them. "That is terrible."

"...She was a doctor... I bought her passage off the planet on Kell's ship," he looked to her then, knowing that this part of the story had some relevance to her. "But she wouldn't go. She wanted to stay behind to help with the wounded. I was staying, too, so I thought that there was still some hope that we could escape. But she wouldn't leave... she died in a blast."

"...I cannot imagine the horror."

He took a deep breath, his eyes cast down to hide his tumultuous feelings. Teyla glanced away, trying to absorb the ramifications of what he'd just told her.

"...It all happened so fast..." She looked back to him and found that his brow was furrowed. She braced herself for the details of the scarring event yet was surprised by his next words. "I'd known her for six months when she asked me to marry her. We were wed that autumn..." He smiled wistfully, his eyes distant. "She wore a wreath of harvest leaves in her hair."

Teyla smiled, wiping at a tear that she barely registered.

He let a small, bitter laugh escape. "Everything suddenly got complicated once we moved into the city. We started to argue... I think we'd thought that we could change each other. But she was a doctor and she was older than me, and I was a soldier, so we didn't always think the same way... At least I saw her once more before she died. ...Maybe she didn't feel any pain."

Teyla nodded in agreement, her heart breaking at how hopeful his voice was. "You must miss her very much."

He let out a shuddering sigh and she could see the light shimmering off of his eyes, betraying unshed tears. He resisted for a heartbeat then nodded solemnly, a tear snaking down his cheek. His voice was edged with mounting sorrow. "I've been thinking about her a lot lately. She was killed in the hospital you found me in on Sateda."

Her lips parted as she realized how much more painful his recent experience on his homeworld must have been. She tried to wrap her mind around the fact that she had recently set foot in the fabric of his past.

"I still miss her..." He wiped the tear away with the back of his hand. "But I had seven years of Running, alone, to try and make sense of it all. And I'm ashamed that if she could see me now, she wouldn't know me. She'd probably hate me."

Teyla set her jaw at that and grabbed his hand whether he liked it or not, prompting him to lock eyes with her again. "She would not hate you, Ronon. You've done what you have had to do to survive. Sometimes survival means we have to change who we are." She paused to emphasize her next point yet again. "It is not your fault." She held his hand more tightly as he searched her eyes, a child within them pleading for her to sing him the truth so that he may cling to it. She smiled. "And she would be proud of you, as I am proud of you, for the honor by which you live."

She knew she'd struck a note when he continued to search her eyes, his own reflecting self-doubt and humility before he lowered his gaze. He swallowed then he looked back up to her, his vision clearer yet his timid expression and near-trembling lip betraying his self-consciousness. She could barely hear his whispered "thank you." She smiled and squeezed his hand and squeezed hers.

Then his gaze turned guilty and shyly slid from hers. His voice was still a whisper. "...But I promised her forever." He released her hand again. His ashamed frame breathed of his torn spirit and he looked back to her with apologetic hesitance.

She knew full well what he was trying to tell her. A part of him was still in love with his wife and his guilt over her death haunted him. He had not accepted death as a sundering force in his vow to Melena which spoke of the fortitude of his loyalty. But what he was not saying, what he probably barely admitted to himself, was that he was terrified.

From what he'd told her, even before the Wraith came there was trouble in his marriage. Maybe things would have worked themselves out. By the fact that Ronon still remained bonded in heart to Melena all these years later told her that he would have tried to make it work. Not only was he afraid of the dangers of loving and losing again, but he was afraid of the dangers of falling out of love. Of being burned and maimed by love. Being a Runner for seven years after Melena's death meant that he had never even had further experiences to teach him more of what could come from relationships and love.

He'd been severely hurt and had learned from his wounds that to love is to expose the vulnerability of one's soul. He adapted to survive, and the best way for him to survive the heart's sorrow was to fiercely guard the part of him still capable of love. He was afraid of getting hurt, and after what he'd been through, she could never fault him that. Not in a thousand years.

She gave his hand another squeeze before letting go, giving him his space. His expression was grateful and his eyes were skittish, hesitant in his shyness in this completely new territory for them. She couldn't deny that her own emotions were caught in a whirlwind over what he'd told her, but she offered him a comforting smile all the same. "I understand."

His eyes latched onto hers and didn't flinch, even as Sheppard and Carson noisily entered, prompting Teyla to glance over at them. When she looked back she saw a flicker of guarded hope in Ronon's eyes before he looked away just before Sheppard rounded the corner to them.

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