Team Ryan: If You Love Something, Let it Go [Bonus Material]
Cradle of Civilization



Bonus Material

Deleted Scenes

This is set directly after one of Ra's men makes the first approach and offers to spy for them. It was taken out because it felt out of beat with the fic, unnecessary and maybe a bit silly, but is here for you amusement nonetheless.

The Immortality Issue

When their new spy had left the abandoned mines Ryan and Spencer burst out laughing simultaneously and Walker looked at them oddly, his gaze so cold that Ryan was surprised they hadn't turned into icicles yet. "And what is so funny about the fact that we may have just compromised this entire operation, if I may ask?" he grunted out.

"Apparently these aliens aren't quite as smart as they pride themselves of," Ryan stated, almost choking on fits of laughter. "I mean, they didn't think so far as to realize that if we're taking Ra out, we'll take his gadgets as well."

The colonel cocked an eyebrow, the expression on his face almost sucking the good humor out of both his companions but not quite managing.

"They're in human bodies," Spencer explained. "And they've lived thousands of years. Humans aren't supposed to live that long, which must mean that it's only the mineral and Ra's technology that has kept them going this long. Without Ra's equipment..."

"They'd be dead within a month or two of Ra's death, according to my calculations," Ryan finished, looking at Spencer who nodded back before they both keeled over again. "At least we don't have to worry about the safety of the people once we leave if we are successful."

Spencer suddenly looked up with a thoughtful expression on his face. "But couldn't we use this mineral for good? Back on Earth? I mean, it could be absolutely invaluable in medicine. We could save people that have always been given up on. We could-"

"We could play Gods and make the whole world immortal," Walker interjected. There was a certain sense of wistfulness to his gaze, but an even stronger defiance. "And in twenty years there would be fifteen billion people on Earth. In forty, thirty-five, forty billion. The Earth can't house or feed that many, nor can this planet. And in the end, what you brought back believing was the salvation of our race would be its demise." He sighed, seeming suddenly a lot softer and more approachable than usual. "I think there's a reason there are people medicine has never had any choice but to give up on. It's their time, and that's that. I hate it, but that's the facts."

Ryan nodded softly in agreement, looking over at Spencer. "I say that even if we do get back we never mention the mineral or what it can do to anyone."




This one is set in the nearish future after the end of the actual story, after the last fighting has ceased and life is becoming what is now the norm. It really has nothing to do with the story as such, but gives a small peek into the future of the main characters

Of Manliness and the Word 'No'

"Brendon," Ryan said with a slight early-morning groan, stretching and yawning to the point where his joints were popping like corn. He sat up in the cot, his back still protesting at the lack of a proper mattress, even though the internal bitching from his body got quieter and quieter for every day he spent here. "Could you hand me my clothes, please?"

Brendon, baby on hip and stomach bulging slightly again, blushed as he always did at the mere mentioning of the fact that clothes had even come off. There was something about that particular trait that Ryan found incredibly adorable, especially considering the fact that Brendon wasn't particularly shy in bed anymore. When Ryan realized Brendon had been juggling their daughter, his pregnant belly and cooking breakfast over the fireplace he immediately regretted his request, but before he could take it back the younger man had put Nafretiri down to sit on the floor and had all but dropped the breakfast only to be handing Ryan a pair of, by now, quite worn jeans and a sandy-colored tunic of the local cut.

Ryan, slightly embarrassed, took the clothes with a sleepy murmur of gratefulness and put them on quickly, making sure not to laugh at Brendon's averted eyes. Then he crouched down to the floor and picked up their daughter, kissing the top of her downy-soft, black-haired little head. He sat down on one of the rickety chair, eyes narrowing in thought. "Brendon, could you strip naked and walk down the main street, please?" he asked in much the same tone he had before.

The younger man blushed deeply and looked down at his feet. "I... Y-yes</i>," he finally got out, voice sounding just a little broken. "If that is what you want."

Sighing, Ryan ran his free hand through his hair, biting his lip for a moment. "Do you want to?"

Brendon looked very confused for a long moment, as though he didn't know which answer Ryan would prefer and as such had no clue which to supply. Ryan, quite honestly, was pretty sure that really was the case. "No," he finally whispered.

"Then tell me no in the first place," Ryan finally suggested, looking up and finally managing to meet Brendon's wide, nervous eyes. "How long do we have to be together for you to understand that? You are my husband, not some mindless slave!"

Cringing, Brendon looked down, breaking eye contact again. "I am your hemi," he corrected instead, voice low enough to be nearly inaudible even as he picked the food back up and went on with his work. "You are the husband."

"I do not care what title you have according to society, or how you think you are supposed to view me. You are a man, whom I am married to. That makes you my husband." He groaned and pulled his hair gently out of Nafretiri's grabby hands. "And if I have not punished you for speaking your mind yet, what makes you think I ever would?" He knew having to answer that question would make Brendon beyond uncomfortable, so he pressed on before the younger man could speak. "It makes me uncomfortable and unsure around you when I never know when I can expect a straight answer, do you understand that? Everything would be so much easier if you could speak your mind and be honest about it and I would not have to second-guess everything. That would please me much more than always getting the nicest answer."

Brendon looked at him skeptically, then shook his head. "It is not my place!" he insisted, sounding stubborn and miserable all at once. "That is for husbands and full men and I am neither, I am not supposed to be either!"

Ryan drew in a deep, shuddery breath. "I do not care about who you are supposed to be. I care about who you are, who you could be. I do not want you to try to be a woman, because I do not care for women in the context of the kind of a relationship we have. I have always liked men better and I wish you would stop trying to be a girl and start being a man. You were not raised like this. You were raised to be the next leader of this tribe! Try to remember some of the things your father taught you. Try to be that man, at least within our own four walls."

Some kind of an odd, long-buried and deeply rooted hope suddenly seemed to make its way into Brendon's eyes and Ryan held his gaze for what felt like hours to make sure the younger man really had gotten the point, not to mention the fact that this really was what Ryan wanted. Finally a wide smile grew on Brendon's large lips and he chuckled slightly. "I would like it very much if you went to get the water from the well today," he stated. "My back is really hurting me."

A wide, indestructible smile spread over Ryan's face with the speed of lightning, and he wasted no time in putting Nafretiri back on the ground where she crawled about happily. Ryan, on the other hand, crossed the floor to where his husband stood and pulled the shorter man in for a deep, grateful kiss that had their tongues tangled only a few moments later. Before they could take it too far, Ryan broke away, still grinning, and picked up the large clay jar that was to hold their water for the day. "All you had to do was ask," he stated. Then he winked. "So, how about that disrobed walk down the main street?"

"No!"




This one has been in my mind for probably nearly as long as the fic has itself (which just goes to show how much of a perv I really am). But when the fic sort of changed direction from the original idea to become something that would fit the prompt better, this scene stopped corresponding with the plot and wouldn't really make sense anywhere in the story-line, so it was scrapped. I wrote it anyway, though, since it refused to leave my head. And here it is instead of in the story. It doesn't belong in the fic, but if it did it would be from somewhere between their arrival at the abandoned mines and when Brendon and Ryan first find out they're having a baby/when Brendon starts showing.

Morning Wood

Ryan, for once in his existence, was apparently the first of him and Brendon to wake up today. At first he was relieved that the boy, at the very least, wasn't somewhere outside the mines puking his guts out, but a moment later he felt beyond worried that Brendon was still asleep when he'd been up before Ryan even before he'd gotten sick. Maybe it was getting worse? Then his heart rate eased to a much more normal pace when he suddenly felt the evidence that Brendon couldn't be feeling too bad.

Brendon was hard and warm against Ryan's thigh, even appeared to be rubbing just a tiny bit, and Ryan's breath stuttered in his throat at the look and feel of it. He remembered being the age Brendon was now, of always waking up with morning wood or soiled sheets, and now that he thought about it he was maybe a little surprised that it never seemed to happen to Brendon. Although, really, he couldn't know, could he? When Brendon was always up before him and all. He supposed he couldn't. He could take care of this one, though. And for every moment he felt the younger male's erection pressed his thigh that idea seemed nicer and nicer.

Slowly extracting himself from Brendon, Ryan felt an expectant smile spread over his lips even as his military issue pants seemed to tighten a little. He got to his feet and fumbled in the near-darkness for the small jar he knew was around somewhere. Finally, when his search was getting close to frantic, his fingers closed around the wanted item and he shimmied out of his pants and boxers and wife-beater before squatting down and opening the jar. He covered his fingers generously in the oil and reached behind himself, pushing in one finger, then two, his eyes falling shut at the familiar feeling of it. It was a feeling he'd always enjoyed and probably always would, even though he kept his fingers strictly away from the prostate.

When he deemed himself ready he pulled his fingers back, groaning inaudibly at the slide and pull before he crawled over the floor to Brendon's sleeping form. Grabbing the hem of his robe and pulling it up until it was hiked around the boy's chest was quite easy, really. Brendon seemed to be quite a heavy sleeper. Next up Ryan poured out more oil over his hand and slowly lowered the limb until his fingers were wrapped around the boy's swollen cock. He loved the feel of it beneath his fingers, silk over steel, hard and heavy as he slicked it up. He watched in fascination as the foreskin slipped back to reveal the almost purple head and had to hold back another groan at the sight of the first drop of precome formed in the slit. Then he finally pulled himself together and finished slicking Brendon up, smiling when the boy, still fast asleep, thrust up into his fist, moaning from somewhere in his dreamland.

Then he let go and maneuvered himself into position, straddling Brendon's lap with a knee on either side of the boy's hips. He reached under him and gripped Brendon's dick, moving around a bit until it was positioned right at Ryan's entrance. Then he carefully guided himself down, feeling his mouth fall open around a soundless moan at the feeling of being stretched and filled, the pleasant burn of it all. God, had he missed this?

By the time he was seated fully in Brendon's lap, breathing in short, quick pants, the boy's eyes suddenly shot open and he sat up, looking confused and horrified. "What is happening? What are you-" Then he looked down for a moment, disbelieving, before he raised wide, dark eyes on Ryan. "But you are the husband," he whispered. "I am just the hemi. It is not right."

Ryan shifted a bit to get better adjusted, smiling at the grunt that left Brendon's lips, the way his eyes rolled back into his head. "Does it feel wrong?" he asked breathily, and after a moment's hesitation the boy shook his head, color rising on his cheeks. "It feels good, does it not?" This time, after an even longer pause, he got a nod. Then Ryan smiled. "Then you should forget what everyone tells you and do what feels good and right," he stated before raising himself up and dropping down again, a rush of exhaled breath exiting his mouth and his eyes falling shut at the light brush against his prostate.

On the next upstroke Ryan changed the angle and when he came down Brendon's cock crashed directly into that point, making Ryan's head loll forward and a keening sound snake out between his lips. He reached down and gripped Brendon's hands, raising them and placing them on his own hips and immediately relaxed a little at the warm, supported feeling that gave him. Still gasping slightly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Brendon's in a quick, messy kiss that left them both panting before Ryan rose up again and started a rhythm, one hand supporting his weight against Brendon's chest and the other toying idly with his own cock as he pushed them both towards the edge.

Brendon, predictably, didn't last very long. He was after all only just getting used to the concept of using his cock for anything other than taking a piss, and he came, shuddering, biting back a scream, nearly sobbing, and at the look on his face Ryan let go, moaning as he came in spurts over Brendon's stomach before he dropped down, boneless, next to the boy, a goofy smile on his lips. Nothing had felt wrong about that.




This one was actually taken out of the fic because it was unnecessary and took away from the mood rather than adding to it, in my opinion. But I liked it and decided to give you the chance to read it here. This scene, along with 'Morning Wood' are the ones that made me decide to do deleted scenes altogether. It takes place during Ryan's little race to reach the Stargate before it's destroyed.

The Reason Police Should Be Banned. And Then Reinstated

When Ryan raced off the plane he found the rental car Marlowe had telephonically promised him waiting right there. It was cheap looking, somewhat run-down, and it didn't look like it could make the drive, much less with the time limit Ryan had to work with. There didn't seem to be any other options, though, so he got in the car, dropping his bags on the passenger seat, and backed out of the parking lot even as he worked the GPS to find the quickest route up to the shut down missile silo.

Getting out of the city took an excessive amount of honking and punching the steering wheel and flipping other drivers the bird, but finally he was on the freeway, headed towards the mountains. And maybe he was pushing a hundred and ten miles an hour but it wasn't as though any other cars were around yet. Not to mention the fact that he had over a hundred miles to go and around an hour and a half to get there.

His fingers were still tapping nervously against the dashboard as the scenery flew by outside, and his heart was beating in his throat, shooting adrenaline through his whole body at the mere thought that he might not get there in time. He didn't even notice the blaring of the police siren before the black and white car had forced him out to the side and an officer was knocking impatiently on the window.

Groaning, Ryan rolled it down and looked out at the policeman with a stormy, annoyed look. "What?" he spat out, foot tapping against the car floor now as his impatience and impending panic made itself all the clearer.

"You were going well past the speed limit, kid," the officer stated gruffly, reminding Ryan oddly of Jon's demeanor before the former colonel had managed to loosen up a bit. "I need to see your license and registration, please."

Ryan reached down, patting his pockets. "It's actually a rental car," he stated as he dug up his wallet, searching through it frantically for his license. Then he groaned out loud, letting his head drop back against the headrest. "Can you believe I forgot my license in Florida?"

"No, I can't," the officer stated. "Step out of the car, please. I have to make a call and see if this vehicle has been reported stolen."

It was all Ryan could do not to scream and stomp his feet and throw a complete fucking fit. "Have you seen the news lately?" he asked. "Heard anything about the Stargate and Abydos and all of that?"

"Yes, obviously," the policeman answered. "I don't see what it has to do with this situation, however."

"I'm Ryan Ross," Ryan stated. "The guy who opened it and everything. And, well... it's getting shut down this morning and I need to get through before that happens."

The man raised a skeptical eyebrow before shaking his head and walking back towards his car, presumably to get his radio. "If you so much as think about getting back in that car, you'll be spending more than one night in jail," he threw back over his shoulder.

Ryan could've cried, honestly. And for long moments he had absolutely no clue what to do. Then he finally got an idea and pulled out his cell phone. Finding General Marsden's number was no trouble at all, and all he could do was hope the old geezer would actually pick up.

"Ross, if this is not important, I swear to you..." the familiar voice groaned a few seconds later, and Ryan flinched slightly when he realized that it was before five in the morning.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered. "I was just wondering... you have some friends who are pretty high up in the Colorado police force, don't you?"

"Yes, Ross, I do," Marsden stated with a sigh, apparently reconciling himself to the fact that he wasn't about to get more sleep anytime soon. "Why?"

"Some fucking cop pulled me over. And I need to get through the Gate before they shut it down. I'm serious, I have to."

The general exhaled audibly. "I'll see what I can do," he stated, and then he hung up.

Five minutes later the officer's phone rang and it only took a few seconds before he got very red in the face and started stuttering. When the call was ended he went back to Ryan with badly concealed anger in his gaze, but there was also resignation there. "Change of plans," he stated in a clipped voice. "I'm escorting you to the base."

Ryan smiled and hopped quickly back in the car. He was going to make it, even if he had to stand on the speeder the whole way there, he was going to make it.




This one, like 'Of Manliness', is set in the future of the 'verse, and doesn't really have any impact of the story at all. I like these little glimpses into a possible future, though, and I hope you will too.

The Downsides of Primitive Living

"So," Spencer said. "Since we already know that we do not want to know what they put in their alcohol around here, would you like to explain why you're on your fourth mug?" He cocked an eyebrow and sat down next to Ryan, pouring himself a mug from the jar of the stuff Ryan had brought up with him.

Ryan grimaced slightly, keeping his eyes focused solely on the view of the city from the rooftop they were sat on. "Brendon's pregnant," he stated, voice low and monotone.

Spencer choked on the mouthful of bittersweet liquid in his mouth, spitting out a small mouthful. "Again?" he asked skeptically, blinking just a little. "But it's only been two months..."

Shrugging, Ryan bit his lip for a moment before taking another gulp of the brownish liquid. "Yeah, well. Apparently with no menstrual cycle, you're just fertile all the time instead of once a month." He groaned slightly. "Don't get me wrong. I love Brendon and I adore Nafretiri and Merhotep to no end, but I do not like the idea of having ten kids five years down the road."

"Well, can't you just..." Spencer trailed off, shrugging. "You know?"

"Spencer, you got married a month ago and you're suggesting that we 'just not have sex'. Does that sound particularly realistic to you?" Ryan asked dryly, shaking his head. "And even after all this time it's hard as hell to get Brendon to top, so that's not much of an option either, not all the time anyway." He emptied the mug with a roll of his eyes. "I cannot believe that condoms are the one thing you forgot to put on your shopping list."







Soundtrack:

This is compiled from several songs, some that I listened to extensively while writing the story, and some that just popped into mind. They all have the thing in common that they remind me of the story, or even just a single scene from the story, either melodically or lyrically. Maybe you won't understand the reason for all the songs, but then this is self-indulgence more than anything.

Faraway vol. 2 Apocalyptica
Sahara Nightwish
The Reason Hoobastank
The Final Countdown Europe
The End of All Hope Nightwish
Worlds Away From First to Last
Pale Within Temptation
Million Miles Away The Offspring
Listen to Your Heart Roxette
Running Away Hoobastank


Pictures:

Since this story, essentially, is a cross-over, I decided to make life easier for those who may not have seen the movie. That means giving you pictures of the characters taken from the movie, and they follow here:


Ra and his entourage in the pyramid.


Skaara crouching to hide behind a dune in the desert.


Skaara again.


Kasuf.


One of Ra's guards.

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