Ronon was clinging to the guard who helped support his weight, urging him forwards towards the entrance of the fight ring. The very act of breathing felt a chore, as if chains constricted his lungs. The world spun in and out of focus and the ground felt like it was shifting. The thunderous chanting of the crowd reverberated against his skull, rattling his skeleton. The guard stopped and let go, shoving him to lean against the side of the wall just before the arena entrance.

Ronon blinked and shook his head, trying to maintain a focus that was gyring and tilting. He was outside the fight arena, that much he knew, but what was he doing there? He thought he’d been sleeping. For a while he thought he was dreaming, but the stone wall beneath his fingers felt real enough. His heart fluttered with adrenaline as he realized this was a waking nightmare and that he’d be expected to fight. Fight? He didn’t even know if he could walk. Something was wrong with his head.

Rashid held out his arms, scanning the crowd from the spectator’s box. “I give you, the final stand of the Satedan!”

The audience roared and stomped, chanting the warrior’s nationality as if they knew the land from whence he hailed. “Sate-dan! Sate-dan! Sate-dan!”

Rashid swung his arm and the gates opened. The guards pushed Ronon forward and he stumbled onto the sand of the arena, wincing and planting his feet wide apart to keep from losing his balance. Several in the crowd fell quiet when they noticed his haggard appearance and wilted stance.

Teyla shoved through the onlookers, earning many angry shouts and insults which made Sheppard glare and bark a few back as he followed her. She made it to the front row of the ring, ignoring the protestations of the other fightgoers as Sheppard and the Espens shoved their way to her side. She gasped when she saw Ronon’s wan figure. “Ronon...”

“Our brave warrior will face none other than the spawn of evil itself!” Rashid bellowed.

Ronon’s chest was heaving, the words filtering into his mind as if through a barrier of water. He noticed a blade stabbed into the center of the arena and staggered over to it, leaning against the handle. Teyla looked to Sheppard but the colonel only returned the frustrated concern in her eyes. There was no way to get to Ronon without being killed themselves.

The Satedan let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes in an effort to gather his wits, pleading with his body to listen to him one final time, promising it rest after this last effort, this final flutter in life. The gates opened on the other side of the arena and his opponent entered to the cheers and boos of those in the stands, but Ronon didn’t open his eyes, maintaining his vigilance over his own flesh.

The Wraith that had entered the arena was unlike any Teyla had ever seen before, and she found herself pitying the beast. His hair was tied back in knotted clumps, dyed red for show. His hands and feet were chained together with ball weights on the ends of each to prohibit him from fleeing into the stands. He hissed and snarled at the crowd, a pike clutched in his useable hand, a metal muzzle on his feeding hand. He looked just as drawn and hungry as the human in the ring.

Ronon took slow and steady breaths, immediately registering the noises of the stalking Wraith for what they were, the hair on the back of his neck rising in primal response. In and out. In and out. Just keep breathing. Focus. Listen.

Teyla unsheathed her pistol, concealing it in the sleeve of her cloak, switching off the safety ready to fire at any moment. As she watched Ronon hunched and still, leaning against the sword, she knew that he was gathering his strength, that he was still willing to fight, and she’d be damned if these few, terrified moments would be his last. She flexed her grip and Sheppard noticed, muttering to her out of the corner of his mouth, staring ahead. “What’re you doing?”

Teyla likewise continued to stare ahead. “I will not let him die at the hands of a Wraith.”

“If you kill that Wraith, these guards will kill you.” His eyes gestured to the several large, armed and armored slaves dotting the stands. “We can’t take out enough of ‘em to get him and get out.”

Teyla didn’t flinch. “I understand. When you can, leave this place. Do not look back.”

“...What?”

She glanced to him for the briefest moment. “I will die with him.”

“Teyla...”

Curtis leaned over ever so slightly, having noticed the two whispering. “You folks working on a plan?”

Sheppard swallowed hard. “Hardly.”

Teyla let out a breath. “Go, John.”

Sheppard turned to look at her then, his face a battlefield of heartache.

Teyla smiled the tiniest bit, her eyes conveying her love and gratitude for her dear friend.

Sheppard swallowed, looking back out into the arena where guards were unchaining the Wraith’s hands so that he could move them separately. He blinked. “No.”

Teyla stiffened.

Sheppard’s voice was low and husky. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye then gazed ahead once more, her jaw quivering ever so slightly, her heart swelling. “...Very well.”

Sheppard smirked, subtly unholstering his pistol as well.

Ronon kept his eyes shut and heard the clink of the chains as they fell away and slid out of the Wraith’s shackles. The voices of the crowd were as hushed as a distant sea. All that existed was the Wraith and his heartbeat. He could smell the fetid breath of his enslaved brother as the Wraith neared, the heat of Ronon’s living flesh tantalizing him into madness. So close and yet so far... Ronon could hear how the Wraith favored one foot over the other, meaning that he was readying to attack with a throwing weapon in the opposite hand. His feeding hand would be muzzled... he would dine on another slave as reward if he killed the Satedan.

The Wraith hissed and charged at Ronon with the lance. Ronon felt his footfalls then opened his eyes, spinning to face his opponent, using the momentum of his turn to pull the sword from the ground and knock the spearhead away from his body. The Wraith snarled and staggered as his weapon was deterred and his charge stinted. Ronon’s fragile balance was thrown off by his defensive blow and as the blade arced back to the ground, so did he. He landed on his back, jarring his wound and let out a cry of pain, coughing and shivering.

Teyla closed her eyes as much of the crowd hushed, unaccustomed to seeing The Satedan in pain. Liliana shouted at the Wraith to stop and Curtis grabbed her shoulders, trying to keep her from climbing into the ring.

Ronon coughed out a few breaths then groped for his sword, his senses clearing enough to recall what was happening. The Wraith had already regained his footing, chained together by a couple of feet of metal as his feet were, and hissed, running at the prone human with his spear. Ronon gauged his approach, his fingers scraping the sand until at last they touched the hilt of the sword and he screamed, flinging all of his strength into raising the blade. The sword sliced into the Wraith’s side, making him howl and stagger and fall to the ground.

Sheppard was gripping Teyla’s arm, having stopped her from raising her weapon moments before. Both watched with hitched breath, as did the rest of the crowd, the sight of two pitifully gamely, floundering creatures barely able to fight hardly seeming worth the effort of cheering.

Rashid glared from his box, howling in rage when the Wraith let out a wheeze and let his body relax as much as Ronon’s, neither showing any signs of rising. “Fight!” Neither stirred. “Fight!” He shoved past Dannella and out of his box, making his way down into the arena as many booed and demanded their money back. He held up an indifferent, placating hand, striding into the ring.

He stopped in front of the Wraith first and kicked him in the shoulder. “Get up. Get up you beast!” The Wraith looked at him with unfocused, glassy eyes. Rashid snarled and fumbled for a key, unfastening the muzzle on the Wraith’s feeding hand. He rose, catching his breath. gesturing to the Satedan with his head. “He’s yours.” The Wraith merely let out a groaning hiss and looked away, his breathing labored.

Rashid sneered and crouched beside Ronon, yanking on his arm in an attempt to make him stand. “Up! Get up! Fight!”

Ronon’s entire world swayed and his breathing hitched from the effects of the herb and his fever. He gripped Rashid’s arm, trying to comply, but his sluggish, weak attempts were too slow for the older man and he screamed in frustration and kicked Ronon’s injured side. The Satedan let out a cry he couldn’t even hear as his senses were blinded with the flaming fury of spiked fire burning through his veins, burrowing into his muscles and constricting his floundering heart.

The scream made Teyla’s stomach coil with a chill and she dug her palms against the railing of the arena, hoisting herself up before Sheppard could get a good grip on her to hold her back. “Teyla!”

Liliana held a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out.

The crowd erupted in murmurs as Teyla’s feet landed on the sand of the ring and she stalked towards Rashid. “Do not touch him.”

Rashid furrowed his brow, releasing the Satedan and stepping backwards as she leveled her gun at him. Ronon fell limply onto his back, choking out a gasp, the world seemingly sucking into a black night sky cluttered with shimmering, swirling stars that blinked out just as he took note of them. Yet through the muffling vacuum of space he thought he could hear the voice of his heart, crying out in defense of him. It reminded his lungs to keep expanding and compressing. It reminded him to live. Teyla...

Rashid laughed at Teyla, holding up his hands as she stepped between him and Ronon. “Guards! Arrest this nuisance!”

“You know the rules!” Dannella shouted, staying the men. She smirked at Rashid in the ring below her. “Challenges are made in the arena. Your power holds no sway on the sand.”

Sheppard and the Espens looked around them as the guards glanced to each other, heeding Dannella’s words, respecting the wife’s adherence to custom, even in the case of her husband.

Rashid glared up at her. “Why, you conniving cunt!”

She leaned against the railing of the spectator’s box, smiling sweetly. “This is your fight ring. You made up the rules, dear.”

Rashid’s face began to slowly slacken with a creeping horror.

Teyla’s eyes flickered between the husband and wife, her gun still leveled at his head. “I do not want to kill you. All I want is this man... and safe passage to my ship.”

Rashid nodded several times. “Granted, by all means.” He glanced down to Ronon whose labored breaths were stirring up dust. “Take your corpse.”

Teyla sneered and adjusted her finger on the trigger, making Rashid stiffen. “You have just lost your chance at survival.”

Sheppard was climbing over the railing, slowly so as to not draw attention. Most eyes were focused on the scene playing out in the arena so few noticed.

Rashid smirked. “If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it all ready.”

Teyla blinked. “Do not try my patience.” She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye yet remained focused on the man before her.

Rashid shook his head. “If you desire blood... then you should know that I have never harmed this man...” He gestured to Ronon. “However...” He held his hand out to indicate Dannella in the spectator’s box. “That lovely whore you hear barking out orders saw fit to ravage my slaves, including my Satedan.”

Teyla cocked her head, her lips parting as her heart hammered, letting out a small gasp as she attempted to wrap her mind around the suggestion of such suffering.

“If you don’t believe me,” Rashid continued, “look at the wound on his side. The woman is a sadist.”

Teyla shook her head, her heart attempting to keep up with the pain of her mind, trying to understand. Then suddenly the memory of Dannella’s smirk in the dungeons made it all clear. The movement to the side drew nearer and she didn’t look away from Rashid, her muscles tensing. The murmur of the crowd rose. Teyla narrowed her eyes. “I know what you are trying to do.”

Rashid spoke through gritted teeth. “Kill. Her.”

Teyla stiffened, raising her chin. Rashid furrowed his brow as a breath fell against his neck. He turned around and looked up at the yellowed, feline eyes of the starving Wraith. He had only enough time to draw the breath to scream before the Wraith slammed his feeding hand against his sternum, hissing with pleasure as he siphoned his life force into his own body.

Teyla looked on with a satisfied gaze as Sheppard jogged to her side, his handgun trained on the feeding Wraith, glancing nervously to Teyla then down to Ronon who had yet to move. “He okay?”

Teyla didn’t take her eyes off the feeding Wraith and the dying man before her. “...I do not know.”

Sheppard looked down to Ronon again then back to the Wraith as it finished feeding, a greenish hue returning to his skin, his eyes suddenly revived and alive as he healed from his wound. He pulled his hand away and let the mummified corpse fall, turning to face Teyla and Sheppard with a satisfied sigh.

Dannella panted, leaning over the railing, stiffening as Rashid fell. Her eyes were wild with glee. She turned to the guards in her box. “I am your master now. Kill them.” The guards nodded then jogged down the stairs, hastily dividing up weapons before approaching the arena.

There was movement on all sides as viewers began to trickle out of the stands, too unnerved by the sight of a healthy Wraith to risk being in an enclosed area with it. Others remained, fascinated by the carnal drama playing out before them.

Teyla and Sheppard stood their ground, defending their ailing teammate. The Wraith looked down at Ronon, back up at Sheppard, then Teyla. He pointed at Ronon and his voice came in a resonating hiss, as a snake’s might if it could speak to humans. “Yours?”

Teyla furrowed her brow, blinking, her gun still aimed at the Wraith. Her voice was firm. “...No.”

The Wraith cocked his head.

“He is his own.” Teyla swallowed hard, blinking past moisture in her eyes. “But I love him, yes.”

The Wraith let out a low rumble and nodded his understanding.

Teyla blinked again, clearing her vision, momentarily doubting the respect she saw in the eyes of the Wraith until she couldn’t deny it.

Sheppard tensed as she slowly started forward. “Teyla...”

The Athosian ignored him, crouching slowly to retrieve the keys off of Rashid’s belt. She rose, holding them out to the Wraith who took them in his clawed hand, inclining his head in gratitude. Teyla returned the gesture then backed away as the Wraith began to unlock his remaining weighted shackles just as the guards re-grouped and entered the arena.

Teyla hastily pointed her weapon at the approaching guards while Sheppard kept his trained on the Wraith, both standing beside Ronon who seemed to be struggling to regain any of his senses. Liliana and Curtis climbed over the railing and withdrew their weapons, heading over to reinforce the Atlanteans against the guards. Curtis stopped beside Teyla and Liliana paused beside Ronon, unable to keep from glancing to his wounded form with a worrying eye.

Dannella watched from the box as the guards formed a semi-circle around the others, activating their prods. There was an awkward tension: the numbers on both sides were nearly equal, but the Wraith was a wildcard and both groups seemed to be glancing nervously to him. The Wraith noticed their nerves and grinned, letting out a low chuckle. Dannella slammed her palm against the railing. “Kill them!”

The Wraith looked up at her then mock-bowed. “As you wish.” He suddenly sprang at the nearest guard and, the tide having shifted, Sheppard and Teyla both began firing as the guards charged forward. Curtis pivoted to protect Ronon and Liliana as his wife dropped her gun and crouched to check on the Satedan. He was breathing but his pulse was rapid and erratic, coming and going in quick spurts. His flesh was heated and fevered and she ran a hand over his forehead in an attempt to draw what attention he had to her, but to no avail.

Curtis fired at one of the approaching guards but his bullets bounced off the man’s armor. He yelped as a prod connected with his side. Teyla heard the cry and spun about, aiming for the guard’s head and firing. The man toppled over and as she turned back around to face the last remaining guard she realized that Sheppard had already taken him out. The Wraith cast aside the guard he’d been feeding upon and looked up at Danella.

The remaining crowd was silent, leaning forward, their disbelief suspended, absorbed in the bloodshed.

Dannella began to back away from the railing then screamed as the Wraith leapt a clear twelve feet or so and flipped himself onto the balcony. Dannella scrambled out of the way but the Wraith slammed an arm into her, knocking her to the side. She stumbled on her gown, tripping over the side of the spectator’s box, her fall only broken by her scarf snagging. She jerked and hung suspended for a moment before the snag tore and she fell the remaining six feet to land on the arena floor. The Wraith hissed down at her then ran for the exit from her box as the crowd began to come to their senses, screaming and running for the exits as the Wraith entered their ranks, stampeding prey.

Liliana was holding onto Curtis, assuring both that he was all right, and Sheppard took aim at Dannella as she coughed, struggling to shove aside her scarf and rise. Teyla narrowed her eyes at the other woman, slowly stepping to John’s side and resting her hand on his gun, lowering it for him. Sheppard looked to her with reluctant understanding then nodded curtly.

Teyla glanced behind her at Ronon as Liliana crouched beside him once more. Secure that he was receiving aid, she turned her lioness eyes back to Dannella and cast aside her weapon. Dannella staggered to her feet, tearing off her scarf, cradling a bruised elbow. She noticed Teyla’s stare and the way the others pulled back, allowing the Athosian her room, and straightened.

Teyla prowled around the other woman, sneering. Dannella arched a brow, pivoting to face her as she was circled. Her voice was tauntingly confident. “We are not so different, you and I. Women who know how to get what we want – power. Strength.”

Teyla’s composure was slipping, her voice firm. “Quiet. Your. Tongue.”

Dannella smirked. “Even you must admit that we have one thing in common...” She let her smile grow haughty. “We’ve both saddled the same man.”

Teyla’s hand lashed out before Dannella could blink, swiping at the chain on her cheek and ripping it out of her face. Dannella screamed, grabbing at her bleeding nose and lip, looking to Teyla in shock. Teyla merely cocked her head, her muscles tensing. Dannella sneered. “That was made of Triolyte. It was worth more than any amount your husband could rut for trade!”

Teyla lunged at Dannella at the same time that the other woman brought her knee up to hit the Athosian in the side, yet unlike her opponent, Teyla was not slowed by the pain and brought her elbow down onto Dannella’s back, making her cry out. Teyla then placed one of her legs between Dannella’s, snaring the other woman’s foot and spinning her about so that she was locked against Teyla’s body by an arm around her neck. Dannella let out a choking gasp.

Teyla sneered at her. “You die for what you did.”

“Be sensible,” Dannella coughed, unsheathing a dagger concealed in the folds of fabric on her hip. Sheppard noticed the motion but called out a warning too late. “He isn’t worth it,” Dannella spat, digging the blade into Teyla’s thigh. Teyla cried out in surprise and pain but didn’t relax her hold.

Sheppard started forward. “Teyla!”

Teyla tightened her grip on Dannella’s neck, making the other woman gasp and let go of the knife hilt to grab and claw at Teyla’s arm as the Athosian applied more and more pressure, bruising and collapsing the muscles of her throat, blocking her airways. Dannella began to wheeze, her fingernails digging into Teyla’s forearm, and the Athosian merely gritted her teeth in a primal snarl, her heart pumping adrenaline as she clamped down on her kill.

Sheppard watched with horror-tinged satisfaction as Dannella gave up the fight, her eyes rolling back before she eventually went limp. Teyla then released her, shoving her body away from hers, panting. She looked down to the blade in her thigh and screamed as she yanked it out. Sheppard jogged over, slowing to crouch and examine Teyla’s leg, but Teyla ignored him, studying the bloodied blade in her hand and limping towards Dannella’s body.

She stumbled onto her knees beside the other woman, raised the blade high, then slammed it down into her chest, sawing and cutting, her hands slick with blood. Sheppard felt himself growing faint as there were tearing sounds akin to those of ripping out pumpkin innards, until Dannella’s heart was in Teyla’s hand. Teyla set the muscle on Dannella’s chest and stabbed the knife into it, pinning it to the corpse’s breast.

Teyla then clumsily rose, wiping her hands on her pants to rid them of the blood, and limped over to Ronon. Curtis and Liliana watched with silence, their eyes larger than normal. Liliana reached out for Teyla’s arm and helped the other woman sit beside her lover. Teyla locked eyes with her. “Thank you.”

Liliana nodded. Sheppard dragged his eyes away from the gore of Teyla’s vengeance and the sand ground beneath his boots as he approached the others – the only living beings in the stadium.

Teyla lifted Ronon’s head into her lap, running the backs of her fingers over his clammy cheek. She looked to Liliana and didn’t need to voice her question.

Liliana lifted Ronon’s tunic to reveal the enraged wound that was seeping ravaging ill into his body. Teyla looked away, closing her eyes momentarily, having seen injuries infected as such in her village, recalling just how many of those wounded died. “...He is already unconscious...”

Liliana suddenly latched onto her hand. “Don’t give up on him yet.”

Teyla shook her head, her eyes tearing as she looked down at Ronon’s haggard yet peaceful face, as if he were in a troubled sleep. “He is not going to wake up.”

“Something else is wrong with him,” Liliana clarified. “It isn’t just the infection.”

Teyla looked up at her. Sheppard furrowed his brow, crouching beside Teyla.

“His heart shouldn’t be racing like this,” Liliana continued.

“You think they gave him something?” Curtis asked. Liliana nodded.

Sheppard furrowed his brow. “You mean like a stimulant?”

Liliana nodded. “Something to make him lucid.”

“To fight,” Curtis injected, his voice disdainfully gruff.

Teyla trailed her fingertips through Ronon’s curls on his temple, studying them with a small smile, having never seen them before.

“Alright,” Sheppard grunted as he rose. “That’s it.” He turned on his radio, looking around at the open roof of the stadium. “Rodney, you there?”

“I’m here,” came the slightly nasal reply.

“How you feel about taking her out for a spin?”

“What? Really?”

“We’ve got Ronon and he’s in pretty bad shape. We could use a medevac. We’re in this open-roofed coliseum thing...”

“And you expect me to land there?!”

Sheppard winced. “C’mon, Rodney. I know you can do it. You said you’d been practicing.”

“Yeah, in simulations, but not a real Puddle Jumper.”

“So this is your big test.”

“I’ll crash!”

Sheppard’s voice rose. “Look, Rodney, Ronon’s gonna die unless we get him back to Atlantis ASAP. He needs you.”

There was silence for a moment then McKay bumbled out an answer. “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask. You have a lock on our transmitters?”

“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.” He turned back to the others and helped them move Ronon to the side of the arena then cleared away the rest of the bodies to make room for the Jumper to land.

Sheppard had to smile as the small ship touched down without a hitch, Rodney’s worried, concentrating face visible through the windshield. A little blonde head then popped up as Bo kneeled on the passenger’s seat to look out and Sheppard smiled. She waved at her parents who smiled and waved back. Liliana then glanced to the pile of bodies to the side. “John... if you could...”

“Right.” He pressed the button on his radio again. “Nice landing, Rodney.”

“Really? I didn’t squash anyone?”

“If you could keep the hobbit occupied that would be great. There’re a few bodies out here her folks don’t want her to see.”

“Oh, yes, right, of course.”

Sheppard could see him pivot to smile at Bo, asking her what looked to be “wasn’t that fun?”

Curtis and Sheppard carried Ronon into the Jumper while Liliana helped Teyla limp after them. Bo furrowed her brow, peering into the back at Ronon as they set him down. “Is he hurt, papa?”

Curtis glanced to her. “Yeah, darling. He’s sick so we’ve gotta take him back to his home to help him.”

Bo got up to go see her friend but McKay attempted to distract her from the open back of the Jumper from which the bodies could be seen. “Hey, I didn’t tell you what this button did yet.” He pointed one out and Bo turned around, sitting back down in the passenger’s seat. “This one cloaks the ship.”

“A cloak?”

“Yeah, it makes it invisible.”

Liliana and Teyla were almost inside the Jumper when a contingent of guards jogged into the arena, took quick notice of their dead comrades and the injured Athosian, then charged, withdrawing their prods. Teyla and Liliana hurried, but Teyla’s leg gave out and she stumbled, taking them both down. “John!”

Sheppard looked away from Ronon to notice the advancing guards whipped out his pistol, aiming and firing, only to realize that he’d emptied his clip. “Damnit!” He lunged for his vest to get another another.

Bo had noticed the calamity and saw her mother and Teyla on the ground with bad men approaching. “Momma!”

Curtis was taking aim and shooting at some of the guards, but never having used a gun before today, his aim was shoddy at best. Liliana and Teyla struggled to rise and Bo spun back around to the controls, slamming her small hand down on a button before McKay could shout at her not to. The weapons on the rear of the Jumper fired to life and as Teyla saw their appendages extending, she yanked on Liliana. “Stay down!”

The two women covered the backs of their heads as drones shot out, cutting through several of the guards at once before continuing to blow up parts of the stadium and the surrounding walls. The surviving guards turned and ran. Liliana peeked up and helped Teyla to her feet as the two scrambled into the Jumper. McKay, Sheppard and Curtis all looked to Isabeau with surprised expressions that twisted into admiring smiles. Bo ignored them and ran to hug her mother after she’d helped Teyla into a seat and Liliana hugged her back, lifting her off the ground.

Sheppard shoved towards the pilot’s seat as McKay shifted out of the way, closing the back of the ship and lifting off. Teyla was already going through a medical kit when McKay caught her attention. “Hey, look.” He pointed below as they continued to rise. The blast had destroyed the walls of the holding cells below and Rashid’s slaves were escaping, shouting to each other in celebration of their freedom. Teyla smiled a little then returned her attention to Ronon as she opened a package of gauze.

Liliana crouched beside her and lifted Ronon’s tunic to expose the wound, warning her daughter that it wasn’t easy to look at, then rested a hand on Ronon’s forehead. She frowned. “He’s cooling...”

Teyla looked to her. “Is that not a good sign?”

Liliana didn’t answer, feeling Ronon’s pulse, frigid fear settling in her stomach as she realized that his breath didn’t tickle the hairs of her arm. “...He’s not breathing.”

Teyla froze, her heart skipping a beat then hammering wildly. “What?”

Sheppard glanced back at them, hearing the quietly startled voices. “What’s wrong?”

Liliana suddenly yanked her fingers away from Ronon’s neck. “His heart stopped!”

Sheppard almost immediately rose, barking at McKay to take his place, a course already plotted for the ‘gate. He fell to his knees beside Ronon and checked his breathing and pulse himself before cursing under his breath when he couldn’t find either. He tilted Ronon’s chin back and breathed twice into his mouth before pressing his palms against the Satedan’s chest and beginning compressions.

Branded Heart

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