Disclaimer: I don't own "Stargate: Atlantis." I am in no way trying to make a profit off this story, I am merely writing it and posting for my and other people's enjoyment.

Synopsis: Slightly AU. Guard her with your life, for without her, you will no longer have a life. RononTeyla

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence

Pairings: Ronon/Teyla

Spoilers: Rising; The Gift; Runner; Sateda; Progeny; Return pts. 1 & 2; Echoes; possible future spoilers

Title: Child of Atlantis

Author: fyd818

Part 1/?

Dedication: To TeylaFan, my big twin sister! Thanks for everything!

Author's notes: Another random little plot bunny stuck its cute little twitchy pink nose into my already cluttered mind, and it brought with it this fic. Thanks for checking this fic out, and I hope you enjoy!

Child of Atlantis

fyd818

-Prologue-

"Almost done," Ronon Dex said over his shoulder. He turned back to the desk before him and write down the last few words of his letter with a haste born of urgency.

Another hit rocked the city, momentarily drowning out the wail of the klaxon sirens. Ronon tightened his grip on the edge of the table to steady himself before quickly folding up the thick missive he'd just written and tucking it into his pocket. "Are you ready to go?"

His wife Teyla gazed at him with wide, frightened dark eyes and clutched their six-month-old child a little tighter to her chest. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked. "I mean, what if—"

"Don't," Ronon cautioned her. He took her by the arm and led her toward the door, wincing as another strike shuddered through Atlantis. "You know we have to do this – there's no choice left. It's too late."

"It was too late long ago," she agreed bitterly as they raced through the darkened halls. The power was out all over the city; they would have to take the long way around instead of using the transporters.

Ronon put one hand over his ear to better hear the transmission coming over his radio headset. ". . .control tower's been hit! We need a medical team; multiple injuries!" The radio spit static, then stuttered into silence.

Even if they'd had hope of escaping through the Stargate, it was gone now.

Teyla shot him a grim look and soothed a hand over their sleeping daughter's back. "Hopefully she will never remember. . ."

"She's too young." But Ronon wasn't sure of that; their child was too different, too alien, even for them. "She won't remember."

Two sets of stairs later, he began to wonder if they would be too late. The faint scent of smoke teased his nostrils; the city was almost constantly moving now. The roar of weapons fire from outside was growing louder and the hits were getting closer together. They had to go faster.

"Here, give her to me," Ronon said, and Teyla quickly handed over their child.

"Did you get the letter – just in case?"

He nodded. "It's in my pocket. But we won't need it – we'll make it."

Teyla opened her mouth to respond, but never got the words out.

The wall behind them exploded inwards; metal groaned and glass shattered as a roaring boom clubbed Ronon's ears. He instantly reacted even as he was knocked forward off his feet; he curled himself tightly around his daughter and reached out for his wife. With a twist of his shoulders and hips, he took the brunt of impact against the remaining wall with his back and shoulders.

Beyond the ringing in his ears, he heard crying. Lifting his head, he squinted through the veil of smoke hanging in the air and looked down at his daughter. Her face was buried against his shoulder; she had woken and was crying.

He coughed and smoothed his free hand over her hair. "Shh," he whispered. "It's okay." Ignoring the pain he felt in every portion of his body, he pushed himself to his knees and looked around for Teyla.

She lay on her back a few feet away, covered from the hips down by a large section of fallen wall support.

"Teyla!" He coughed again and scrambled across the distance separating them, ignoring the crunch of broken glass beneath him. "Teyla!"

Small cuts covered her face and arms from the flying glass. There was a growing pool of dark red beneath her, but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from – he didn't even know if she was still alive. "Teyla, open your eyes and look at me!"

Miraculously, she obeyed. A flash of brown, sparkling in the flickering light of small fires that had broken out from the explosion, peered at him hazily. "Ronon. Is she—?" One hand reached out, but she was too weak. Her hand fell against his arm, leaving a bloody print.

"She's okay." Ronon turned his gaze to the fallen support, mind quickly calculating how much strength was needed to lift it away and how much time he had left in which to do it. "Hang on, I'll get this off you and then—"

With sudden strength, Teyla's fingers tightened around his arm. "No! Get – her – out! It is too late for me, but you can make it. You must. Everything falls to you." Her breathing was too erratic, her words too punctuated by the labor to draw in enough oxygen to speak them.

After all this, to be so close. . . "Teyla, I—"

She spoke one last time through tightly clenched teeth. "I love you. Go." Her fingers went slack.

Ronon turned his gaze from his wife's still, pale face to his daughter's tear-streaked one. Teyla was right. He had to do this, not just for her, but for everyone who'd lost their lives getting them to this point.

He dropped a kiss on Teyla's forehead and then got to his feet. Determination spurred him on; he limped down two more halls and four more flights of stairs before finally reaching his destination.

The device stood against the far wall, looking completely innocuous and innocent. But according to McKay, it held the power to make the difference between life and death, victory and defeat.

It was so close. Ronon dragged his aching body across the room and ran his hand across the top of the device. The mirrored surface glimmered to life; he drew a deep breath and reached his hand out to touch it.

"Stop!"

Ronon froze more out of habit than because he was ordered to do so. He held his child a little closer and turned his head, still keeping his body between the doorway and the girl in his arms. A chill slithered across his shoulders at the sight of the Asuran standing in the doorway holding a weapon on him.

"Hand over the child right now, and I will spare your life and what is left of Atlantis."

It had all come down to this moment. All the battles, all the deaths – Teyla's death. It was right now, a blink in time, that could make the real difference.

"You'll never have her!" He turned back to the device and reached out.

A burst of fiery pain exploded between his shoulder blades, knocking him forward. He crashed into the device; had a vague sense of falling before landing on his side in a brightly lit room, the baby still cradled in his arms.

The device flickered and turned off with a faint fizzing sound. Ronon turned his head and hazily stared up the barrels of ten guns, all pointed at him.

-To Be Continued-