Team Ryan: If You Love Something, Let it Go [5/6]
Cradle of Civilization





The excursion itself had gone well enough but Ryan was nothing if not a klutz, especially when he was distracted, so it hadn't really surprised anyone when he'd managed to stumble over, apparently, nothing and sprain his own wrist. Which was why, after they'd returned to the formerly abandoned mines and everyone else had tumbled to their sleeping mats, Ryan and Spencer remained in the outer cave with Spencer's kit as the medic attempted to straighten out the wrist and get splint and bandage on it. "So..." Ryan murmured, knowing he needed to talk and that Spencer was the only person around he might be able to semi-comfortably do that with. He struggled for a way to explain what was happening and came short several times. "Brendon's pregnant," he finally stated.

Spencer stopped mid-movement right away, his hands poised to give Ryan's wrist the final tug to get it back into place only to have suddenly frozen. "You're joking," he finally stated, letting out a small laugh.

Ryan sneered at him. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, yelping a moment later when a tug, slightly harder than what was absolutely necessary, pulled everything back into its proper place.

"Did you ever take biology, or were you too busy with languages, social studies and history, fucker?" the medic asked, fishing the flat pieces of metal that were to work as splints out of his kit. "Because if you did, you'd realize he's missing some vital equipment."

"Got an A in biology," Ryan stated with a huff. "It just bored the shit out of me. And that's what I thought at first. But I felt it, Spencer. There was this hard bulge. And he said some boys around here can have babies. Apparently that's why he's married to me and not some girl, and why Skaara is going to be the next leader even though Brendon's older."

Spencer was quiet for a long while as he wrapped up Ryan's wrist. The bandage was quite honestly a little tighter than Ryan would've liked, to be quite honest. "I guess it would make sense," he finally said. "What with his people having been isolated from ours for ten thousand years or thereabout, and being around, even working with minerals that aren't known on Earth. It would be odd if they didn't have some mutations that don't exist where we come from." He frowned, fastening the bandage. "I'm still not believing anything until I've examined him," he stated mulishly.

Ryan shrugged. "I'm not saying I expect you to. But you should probably look at him soon. He's not supposed to be showing at one and a half months, is he? Even here, where that is what? More than two Earth months?" He sighed. "I just... have absolutely no idea what to do," he finally stated. "He's so resigned and withdrawn most of the time. And so timid and in the beginning he was always so fucking scared. I think he constantly thought I'd hit him, or worse." He bit his lip, pausing as he felt how some kind of an ache worked up in him once again. "It's just so obvious that this isn't a life that he'd have chosen for himself and it's honestly not fair."

"Ryan," Spencer murmured softly, sending the slightly older man a small smile. "The kid fucking adores you. He worships the ground you walk on, practically. You have nothing to be afraid of. And when you're not around and he's talking to Skaara or one of the other boys? I don't understand their language, but every second word out of his mouth is 'Ryan'. He's crazy about you." He patted Ryan's shoulder reassuringly.

"Since you can only understand the Ryan part, you have no clue whether the rest of it's even positive," Ryan mumbled, but gave up on fighting for the moment. He was dead tired and his wrist ached like a little bitch and he really wanted to speak. "I'll try to convince him to see you tomorrow." Logically Ryan knew he could just tell Brendon to see Spencer, but he wasn't about to ever use that privilege in any way, shape or form. Brendon might not realize it on his own, but he was as much a person as everyone else. He stood, yawning slightly. "Night, Spencer."

"Night, Ryan," the medic answered with a tired smile as they both got to their feet and headed for the main cave and their reflective sleeping spots.

When Ryan entered the tiny cave that served as his and Brendon's room, he was careful to be quiet enough not to wake the boy, dressing down to his boxers and a wife-beater silently before he eased down onto the hard floor behind Brendon's body. He hesitated for long moments, still so very unsure about the whole touching thing, but then the younger male mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and stretched out a bit, rendering his bulging stomach entirely visible, and Ryan automatically curled up behind him, wrapping his arms around Brendon, his injured hand resting on the protruding belly in a much more protective gesture than he'd ever used before.



Ryan had to spend half an hour reassuring Brendon that no one was going to hurt the baby or tell him to go back the city where it was safer or anything along those lines before the younger of the two consented to see Spencer. Ryan had to come along, obviously, and act as interpreter and hand-holder.

After spending a while poking and prodding and examining as much as his limited choice of instruments let him, Spencer looked up with a look of awe on his face. "I obviously can't make an ultrasound or any other kind of test," he stated in a low voice. "But he has to be right. I don't see any other explanation for it." He paused for a moment, looking unsure. "Ryan, are you sure he was a virgin before you?"

"Why?" Ryan asked softly, biting the inside of his cheek. He'd already known it was real before Spencer confirmed it, but hearing it said plainly, in English somehow made it hit him again, made it even more real, if that was possible. It was still surreal, but not as much when it wasn't said in a dead language.

"Because he's at least half-way through his second trimester. We haven't been here that long," Spencer explained. But Ryan knew that wasn't it. There was no way Brendon hadn't been a virgin. The fear and nerves in his eyes had been too palpable, his movements too unpracticed.

Ryan turned to Brendon, making sure to still keep his gaze calm and still. "How long do pregnancies last here?" he asked. Although, really, they might have been isolated from the rest of the human race for ten millennia, but could they have changed that much?

Brendon looked thoughtful for a moment, biting his lip as he apparently tried to remember exact figures. "For someone like me, around eighty-five days. For a woman it's around one hundred and eighty," he finally answered, shrugging slightly.

"Apparently male pregnancies are shorter," Ryan relayed to Spencer. "Eighty-five days. Which is... nearly four and a half Earth months. With the women it's around the same as back home, I think. So no, I still don't think he'd been with anyone before me."

Spencer nodded, a pensive look on his face. "How is it supposed to come out?" he finally asked. "Could you get him to tell us?"

The scientist turned once more and asked the question, then proceeded to get paler and paler as the explanation progressed. Finally he looked at Spencer again, white as a sheet. "You don't want to know," he stated.

"Anal?" the medic pressed, his face growing more curious by the minute.

"Worse," Ryan said. "A little Alien movie like. I'll tell you when I'm used enough to the thought that it won't make me sick."



It couldn't be more than a week after Brendon had revealed his condition to Ryan that he practically ran over, through the cave and abandoning what he'd been doing – something Brendon only ever did if he got sick. He didn't look sick right at that moment, though. There was a look of wonder on his face, cheeks slightly flushed as he grabbed Ryan's good hand and pressed it to his own protruding belly, which seemed to grow visibly larger and fuller every day now that Ryan had actually noticed it. And then the scientist felt it. Some kind of odd, insistent pushing at his hand, somehow rhythmic and random and entirely offbeat all at once. Ryan's breath caught in his throat and he looked up to meet Brendon's gaze. "Is that?" he whispered, awe filling his voice.

Brendon merely nodded, his own eyes still wide. He was biting his plump bottom lip and not for the first time Ryan felt convinced that he had never seen anyone more beautiful than the boy in front of him. The pushes seemed to have located around his hand now, almost as though the baby sensed it there and wanted some kind of contact and Ryan's heart started beating faster before relocating in his throat. The whole thing had never seemed more real than it did right then, probably wouldn't until the child was born either. But while still feeling a little afraid and a lot guilty, he suddenly couldn't resent what was happening anymore, couldn't not want this child to be born. It was a part of him and the most beautiful and probably kindest person he had ever met. And that fact was captivating, surpassing even every time he'd been caught up in research and historical revelations and anything else. He'd given up the thought of having children long ago. He wasn't much of a people-person, and kids didn't get him and vice versa, and there was the fact that he was gay. But now, suddenly, he couldn't imagine this not happening, and he was sure it showed in his eyes what with the relief that seemed to spread fluidly over Brendon's face.

"Amazing," he whispered, and Brendon grinned and nodded again, and right at that moment it was easy to forget that he'd seen Brendon glaring resentfully at his tummy only a couple of days ago, and that he himself had been completely unsure about this whole thing because he was going to be a dad and he found himself loving the prospect. He wasn't even thinking when he leaned in and caught Brendon's lips in a searing kiss, caught up in the haze of it all, and after a few unsure moments Brendon was kissing his back, trembling hands rising to rest on Ryan's chest, fingers catching in the fabric of his loose, military cut wife-beater.

He was still not thinking when he, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the Earth team and the suppressed giggling of the local boys, gently pulled Brendon with him into their impromptu bedroom, and either he had a very over-imaginative mind or the younger male was growing hard against his thigh as the piece of fabric fell back to cover the entrance behind them. Ryan nearly fell to the small pile of skins they'd gotten to sleep on, carefully helping Brendon down afterwards. He reconnected their lips, breathing through his nose while his hands settled on the boy's hips, Brendon's shakily winding around his neck. Ryan worked his tongue into Brendon's mouth, moaning quietly at the taste of him as their tongues touched, the scientist slowly succeeding in prompting the younger man into more fully participating. Their tongues were quite effectively tangled when Ryan realized that Brendon probably didn't have the art of breathing through his nose down nearly as close to par as Ryan did, and true enough: when Ryan pulled back Brendon was gasping for air, his eyes big and wide and dark and his cheeks even more flushed than they had been earlier in the main cave. And suddenly he felt a pang go through his whole being, his chest clenching and his heart speeding up from just looking at the boy, and it felt like it was with more than just arousal too.

Ryan leaned in and gave Brendon one last peck on the lips before maneuvering their positions until the younger male was on his back, Ryan perched above and working his way down, sucking and nibbling at the surprisingly pale skin on Brendon's neck. The boy's cloak quickly got in the way, and Ryan reached down, grabbed the hem and tugged it up, and with a slight groan of discomfort Brendon sat back up and let it be pulled over his head, leaving him naked and exposed on the furry skins under them. Ryan's breath caught again, and he swallowed a few times before he got back to working his way down Brendon's chest, making detours to both nipples. It only took a few licks to leave the boy panting and moaning and writhing (but then again, Ryan thought he'd once heard something about nipples becoming more sensitive during pregnancies. Maybe that didn't only apply to women although Ryan dearly hoped Brendon wouldn't have to breastfeed. The mental image was quite disturbing and the boy had never mentioned it so hey, a guy could hope!). He worked his way down over the bump, which had gone passive again, and buried his face in the coarse pubic hairs for a moment, breathing in. For a pregnant person Brendon still smelled surprisingly masculine, to Ryan's great relief. The sheer smell of man had always been a huge turn-on for him.

Brendon was gasping and practically choking above him, clearly not used to attentions in these regions. When Ryan placed the first soft lick on the head of the younger male's cock, Brendon drew in a quick, anxious breath before pushing himself into a sitting position again. "You are not supposed to," he started in an uncertain voice, chest rising and falling rapidly. "My thing is useless. Why... worship it when it can do nothing?"

Eyebrows scrunching together, Ryan pulled himself away so he could look the younger man in the eye. "Just because you will not be producing children with it, it is not useless," he stated softly. "When we were first together I did not even know that anything like a child would come out of it. And children are not always the point of these things. Some things you simply do because it feels good, and I wanted to make you feel good." He sighed slightly, suddenly realizing that maybe Brendon was simply backtracking because he didn't want this to happen but was still scared to say so to Ryan's face. "If you want me to stop, I will," he promised.

The boy was silent for what felt like half an eternity to Ryan, chewing relentlessly on his bottom lip, and the older of the two finally gave a sigh and started to work his way back to his feet only to hear a whine emitting from Brendon's throat and see the boy looking up at him with wide eyes that immediately grew mortified, a flush of pure embarrassment settling on his pale face. "Please," Brendon finally managed to whisper, looking away to hide his chagrin.

Ryan didn't even try to hide the smile that spread over his face as he dropped back to his knees, gently pushing Brendon back to lie down and pushing his legs apart before settling between them, dipping his head down once more. This time there was much less hesitance on Brendon's part, and a lot more trembling limbs and muffled moans as the boy fought to keep his hips stationary. And Ryan had really missed this (not just sucking cock, although that too, obviously), having this kind of intimacy with another person, this feeling of being wanted and appreciated, not to mention the feeling of holding someone else's pleasure in your hands, knowing you had the control, and seeing and feeling the reactions of the other person. And the fact that it was Brendon, somehow, made it even better. He just wished Brendon would be freer about it. He wanted nothing more right at that moment than to hear the boy's moans loud and clear, rather than strangled through his bite on his own arm, and to have him buck up into Ryan's mouth rather than holding back hard enough that his muscles looked like they were about to cramp. Why couldn't Brendon just give himself over to the moment, participate a little more? Ryan pushed his thoughts away from that subject, concentrating instead on simply giving the best blowjob he'd ever done, and from then on it took a surprisingly small amount of time for Brendon to come in warm, salty spurts down Ryan's throat with a scream that even his arm couldn't properly muffle. He swallowed every last drop before crawling lazily back up and wrapping his arms around the boy's trembling, sweaty, flushed body, pressing a kiss against the tangled black locks while he helped Brendon, still gasping, onto his side comfortably. The boy was asleep within moments.

Ryan could still feel his own arousal, but it wasn't insistent or overly bothering, not at a point where he needed to get off. That hadn't been what this was about in any case. It had been about him wanting to make Brendon feel good, which meant that whatever stirring he'd felt in his own nether regions was irrelevant. He could always attempt to find a quiet place and jerk off later. Right then he was content to be there.

The contentedness only lasted a few more minutes before he was overcome by guilt again at the realization that Brendon had probably only told him to go on because that's what he believed was expected of him. The boy hadn't wanted any of what had happened. And from the moment that thought first entered his mind it took just a few moments before he left the small cave, disgusted with himself.



Ryan had had a bad feeling about the night's expedition the whole day, but had kept his worries to himself. Sure, he was a very intuitive guy, but he somehow didn't see Walker believing in his little hunches, so he decided to come along anyway. At least one in the group would be prepared in that case.

W hen they were loading the rocks into sacks and backpacks and a beam of one of Ra's guards' local weapons lit up the mineshaft they were in, Ryan was the only one who wasn't entirely surprised, and he managed to throw his mostly healed arm around Skaara's shoulders and pull the boy to the floor with him before the next ray lit up the room. There was a moan of pain from behind them and Ryan knew one of the boys had to have been hit.

A moment later Skaara wriggled out of his grasp, rifle clutched in his hand as he got up onto his knees and started shooting towards the entrance with barely any proper aim, almost like a madman. Ryan made a mental note to tell Walker to get over himself and properly teach the kids how to aim and shoot and reload a gun because no matter how much gut they kept showing, they also needed some kind of skill. That was, if they got out of this alive.

Belatedly, Ryan realized that maybe he should help, and he pulled the handgun Walker had insisted he keep out of his belt, getting up on one foot and one knee himself. And he knew his aim was even worse than Skaara's, but he still started firing, hearing the cave starting to resound with the sounds of shots from several other guns and rifles. There was still only the light from a few torches and a flashlight and the rays of the local weapons. There were more yelps from both sides and Ryan felt beyond disoriented.

"Ryan, get down!" someone screamed and a moment later Skaara had barreled into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground as another ray of light shot past just overhead, and Ryan looked up into the teen's eyes, nearly identical to Brendon's.

"Do not dare to make my brother a widow," the boy hissed before getting back on his feet and joining the fight while Ryan lay gasping in an attempt to win back some of the wind that had been rudely knocked out of him. After a while he managed to get up and start doing something again, trembling fingers changing the clip when he realized from the empty click sounds that his was empty. He felt a nearly unreasonable amount of triumph go through him when one of the opponents let out a scream moments after he'd shot in that direction. But then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

"Ryan, find out which of the boys are wounded," Spencer ordered, stepping into his role as medic in a way Ryan hadn't fully experienced before, and he quickly relayed the question to the boys.



In the end returning to the cave took a lot longer than it normally would, but they not only had to worry about the rocks, but also supporting or even carrying the altogether five wounded from their group definitely made the walk a lot longer although luckily it was one of the mines that weren't all too far away from their own abandoned one. Ryan, who was carrying a backpack and helping support one of the boys, was definitely regretting the fact that he'd voted against bringing one of the large animals - mastadges as he'd learned by then.

When they finally, bloodied and battered and tired, entered the inner cave of the abandoned mine, they saw all the remaining boys already sitting around the fire, anxious looks on their faces and clay cups of warm mastadge milk in their hands that none of them really seemed to be drinking of.

Brendon was on his feet immediately, moving much more quickly than someone in the equivalent of a woman's eighth month should be able to. He swiftly crossed the floor as Ryan let the backpack drop to the ground and let the boy who'd been supporting the wounded with him take over the task of moving them both to the fire. And then he had to immediately bite back a yelp of surprise as two arms wound tightly around his shoulders, a familiar face burying itself in his neck. The now rather large bulge forced distance between their bodies and pressed insistently into Ryan's hips, but he couldn't help but wrap his own arms around Brendon's waist, pulling the boy as close as he possibly could and burying his face in thick, tangled, fragrant hair as he felt all the adrenaline wash out of him, leaving him sore and exhausted and really aching where it seemed Skaara had managed to give him a few bruises.

"You did not come back," Brendon whispered, finally looking up with his wide, fearful eyes. "I was so scared." He took a deep breath, and Ryan recognized the look he always got on his face when he was overcoming one of his fears and preparing to actually speak frankly to Ryan. Luckily he'd been seeing that look more and more often as time passed, seen the younger male's insecurities slowly begin to fade into the background. "A child needs a father," he finally finished and Ryan had no idea if that was what he'd been meaning to say at all.

"And ours will never want for one," Ryan promised after a few moments of silence before he pulled back. "Do you know anything about how to deal with wounded people?"

Brendon nodded and motioned for Ryan to pick up his backpack and follow the boy, and Ryan tiredly obeyed, trudging after the shorter male until they reached yet another small, separate cave; one which Ryan didn't think he'd been in, or even noticed, before then. In the middle of the room there was a large block of stone. There was another one above it, held up with thick chains, and it looked like it was attached to a handle of some kind. After a moment it clicked in Ryan's mind. A large, very old-fashioned kind of automated grinding system.

"Why do you not use this when you make flour?" he asked curiously, walking closer and ghosting his hand over the device in fascination.

"There is rock dust in it," Brendon explained. "If I made flour with this we would all be toothless before the year was out." He bit his lip softly. "And I am not strong enough to operate it alone," he admitted after another few moments. "But we need it now. I cannot grind rocks with my bare hands." He reached into the backpack and picked out the smallest rocks he could find, glancing closely in the light of the torch in his opposite hand in an apparent attempt to also find ones that looked a certain way. And Ryan's mind caught up once more. If Ra could keep a human body alive indefinitely with this mineral it was unlikely that the humans themselves hadn't discovered some of its healing abilities. So Brendon was probably seeking out the smallest pieces of rock that looked like they had the largest concentration of the mineral in them.

When the boy had gathered a handful he moved to the large grinder and put them down on the surface of the bottom rock before he gestured to the handle and Ryan felt like a bit of an idiot because, honestly, he couldn't be that much stronger than Brendon, if at all. Yet he hesitantly walked over and moved the handle out of its latch, trying desperately to hold onto it so it wouldn't smash too loudly against the lower stone. And he did hang on all right, which explained why he was dangling with his feet half a foot above the ground less than a second later, his ribs aching from the jerk they'd been given. He grunted slightly before easing himself back on his feet and beginning his attempt at moving the handle around so the actual grinding process could start, but even moving it a few inches seemed to demand all the strength he could muster, leaving him winded and with arms that felt more like spaghetti than limbs.

Luckily for him others had heard the commotion, and the unwounded members of the Earth team, Spencer excluded, were soon standing in the cave opening, appearing quite amused on his behalf. Even Walker had cracked a grin. "Move, Ryan," Spungen said with a laugh. "You're still playing the little league and this is a job for the big boys."

He moved back quickly enough, and maybe he ought to have been insulted and angry, but why would he even think about going down that path? He'd always known that physical strength wasn't one of his better traits. He more than made up for it in brain capacity, so why be bothered? Instead he sat down by the wall next to Brendon, feeling warmth spread through his chest when the boy leaned closer, nudging Ryan's arm and resting his head on the scientist's shoulder. Ryan was immediately comfortable, a small smile spreading over his face in spite of the evening's events. Moments later he was asleep.



When he woke back up Brendon was no longer curled against his side, but instead seemed to be demonstrating the making of some kind of a paste to Spencer. He was gesturing animatedly while stirring, and the mixture honestly smelled like shit. When Ryan stumbled to his feet to see what it actually was, all he could identify was water and ground rock, but it made no sense for it to be as thick as potato chip dip if those were the only ingredients. Spencer, though, seemed to trust the concoction, and accepted the bowl from Brendon's hands before all three of them made their way back towards the main cave.

Ryan watched as the colorless gunk was spread over various scrapes and burn wounds before bandages were wrapped tightly on top of it, but his eyelids were drooping again. He doubted he'd gotten more than two or three hours of sleep and he felt like he could dream several local days away before he'd feel fully rested again, so rather than staying and watching the whole thing, he soon made his way back into his and Brendon's room where he cuddled into the skins, soon lost to the world again.



When Ryan woke up again it was obvious how well the paste actually worked. Only the two who'd had the deepest wounds were still wounded at all. The others no longer wore their bandages and there wasn't so much as a mark on their skin. It couldn't have been that many hours since he went to sleep and, well, it shocked him quite a bit that in as primitive a culture as this one they had medication that worked miracles which could only be dreamt of on Earth.

Spencer bandaged Ryan's wrist up again, scolding him for putting too much strain on it when it still wasn't entirely healed, which ended up with them both laughing and everyone else flashing them confused glances. Ryan was incredibly relieved Spencer had been sent through the Gate after them. He'd connected to the young medic more than anyone else around, and it already felt like they'd been friends forever. Spencer just made it so easy to relax around him, and Ryan was beyond grateful for his presence.

"So..." the medic started, cocking an eyebrow. "Ready to tell me how Brendon's going to deliver?" He'd taken to asking that question once every few days and Ryan had yet to answer, but suddenly it struck him that he could've died the previous night. And Spencer was the only one who knew anything about being a doctor. But he had the advantage of not being able to speak with the locals, which meant that if Ryan didn't tell him what would happen, he'd go into it without really knowing what to do. If Ryan wasn't around Spencer needed to know what would go down, he owed that much to Brendon.

The scientist swallowed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth that looked whiter than ever with the light tan the sun had built on his skin. "Apparently... the skin, I guess, tissue, on his stomach, muscles, whatever, are in the way. They, uh... they kind of disintegrate until they're thin enough that the baby can kick its own way out... and I suppose the minerals used to heal it all up afterwards."

Spencer was silent for long moments, eyes wide. "Damn , that must hurt like hell," he finally muttered. "His stomach tissue disintegrating and a kid kicking its way out, leaving a large, open hole in his stomach..." He lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Do they even know anything about anesthesia around here? And fuck, it sounds unsanitary."

Ryan shrugged and sucked in a deep breath. "Just... help him get through it with as little pain and as few complications as possible. Please?"

"You don't even have to ask," Spencer reassured.

Suddenly commotion rose at the entrance of the cave and both young men looked up to see Skaara and one of his friends dragging in what looked like a de-masked guard, a gun pressed into the man's bare back. "The bastard was sneaking around a few miles away," Skaara stated, glaring holes into the tanned man. "He gave us his weapon and asked to speak to the strangers, or we would have shot him on sight."

Walker raised an eyebrow at Ryan who quickly translated. The colonel nodded and signaled for the scientist to follow him as he approached the prisoner. "Ask him what he wants," Walker ordered.

Ryan nodded and relayed the question, biting his lip nervously. "My people, as yours," the prisoner started, taking a deep breath himself. "Was once free. We had many leaders, not one. I am one of the few who are old enough to still remember. When Ra came back with a solution we had no choice but to let him be leader and to follow his whims so as to stay alive ourselves, but although we do not work in the mines or starve or die as early, we are as much slaves as the humans on this planet. We live and die on his command; we exist only to amuse him. Our race matters not to Ra, only Ra does. I come on behalf of a few of us who wish for this dynasty to end so that we may all, humans and Abydians, have our lives back. When the end comes we will fight on your side, and until then we will relay everything useful we hear."

Another translation later and Walker was shaking his head in frustration. "We can't afford to trust him," he stated. "He could give us a time where the bomb is vulnerable only to lead us into a trap. We just can't."

One of the marines put his hand on the colonel's shoulder, a nervous look on his face. "Can we afford not to, sir?" he asked softly. And that was how they got their spy.



The last few days of his pregnancy Brendon barely moved at all, just stayed in their room on their pile of skins and let Ryan take care of him. The disintegration had started and from the looks on Brendon's face it had to be extremely painful. Spencer had given Ryan a handful of strong painkillers, which Ryan had convinced Brendon to take, but the shadows of pain still lingered around his eyes and mouth, and if it was this painful already Ryan couldn't even imagine the agony the birth itself would be.

One night when he had helped Brendon out of his clothes to wash the boy, he'd gotten the shock of his life when he looked at the belly bulge. The skin was paler than anything he'd ever seen and so fucking thin it was practically translucent, and when the torchlight hit just right he almost thought he could see the baby moving around inside.

The next morning he woke up to Brendon's agonized screams and shot up to see the boy writhing next to him in excruciating pain, face scrunched up and tears running down his cheeks while he clutched his own stomach, and before Ryan could muster up the wits to call for Spencer, the medic was already there, kit and bag clutched in his hands as he barked out orders over his shoulder to boil water and find some kind of clean fabric.

Ryan felt absolutely helpless. Right next to him someone he cared for deeply was shaking and sobbing in unimaginable pain, about to give birth to Ryan's son or daughter, and the scientist just had absolutely no idea what to do to make it better. He reached out and grasped Brendon's hands in his own, all but reveling in the pain as the boy squeezed down on them with almost superhuman strength.

Big, wet brown eyes shot open and took on a pleading expression. "Make it stop, please," he begged. "I will do anything, just make it stop.</i>" His breaths came in quick pants, and they were only speeding up, on the verge of being something that could be described as hyperventilating.

"Spence, do you have a paper bag?" Ryan asked, his mind finally catching up with the situation. "And some strong pain meds. Seriously, strong."

A moment later a plastic bag with an elastic to put around the back of a head in order to keep it in place was handed over to the hand Ryan managed to extract from Brendon's grip. "I can't give him anything stronger than the pills he's been taking," he stated regretfully. "The baby's still in it and too large or strong quantities of anything could be extremely harmful to its physiology."

Ryan bit his lip, closing his eyes for a moment. Looking at Brendon like this physically made Ryan hurt as well. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered in English before trying to put a reassuring look on his face. "You can have another pill," he offered, knowing all too well that it wasn't anywhere near enough. He took another deep breath, reaching up to brush the tangled, sweaty black hair out of Brendon's face before he leaned down and pecked his forehead. "I am going to cover your nose and mouth with this for a moment," he explained softly, holding up the bag. "You need to breathe into it before you hurt yourself.

Brendon nodded, another small stream of tears releasing from his eyes although some stayed to glue his lashes together in small, dark clumps. Ryan gently put the bag on him, squeezing his hand gently and using the now free one to continually stroke the boy's hair.

Getting his breathing under control so that he was no longer getting too much oxygen seemed to help quite a bit, and a few minutes later Brendon's frantic movements seemed to have ceased, and he was mostly just lying there, tears still streaming from his eyes and his hand still clutching Ryan's. Deeming that it was probably safe now, Ryan eased off the bag and reached out his hand for the painkillers which he handed on to Brendon before helping the boy down a small bowl of water. "Anything we can do to speed this up?" he asked Spencer, never looking away from Brendon.

"Cesarean," the medic answered simply, working on who-knows-what down by the baby bulge.

Ryan gave a simple nod and a minute later Spencer was preparing a scalpel. It was only when it was descending on his stomach that Brendon realized what was going on and practically shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and savage as he practically growled at Spencer, arms wrapping protectively around his belly. "No," he said simply, voice almost frighteningly deep and resonant even with the edge of pain that ran through it.

"He is just trying to help," Ryan stated, keeping his voice calm and suiting as he wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him gently back against Ryan's body chest. "Do you not want it to end quickly?"

"Do you want our child to be a weakling?" Brendon asked in a small voice, turning his face to look at Ryan. "It has to get to the surface on its own or it will never be able to do anything on its own."

Sighing, Ryan leaned forward and pecked the boy's cheek. "We will do it your way then," he muttered before moving his gaze to Spencer. "No Cesarean," he declared. "The superstition around here is that it makes the children weak."

"You don't believe that, do you?" Spencer asked with a small huff. He was moving the scalpel away, though.

"No," Ryan answered. "But Brendon does, and I don't want him more uneasy about this whole thing than need be. Besides, it's his choice, isn't it?" He leaned back against the rocky wall and helped Brendon back down until his head of dark hair was resting in Ryan's lap.

"Do you want him to suffer unnecessarily?" the medic hissed, the first traces of anger rising in his eyes.

Ryan felt as though someone was squeezing his heart until it was on the verge of shattering. "No!" he all but yelled. "Of course I don't!" He sucked in a deep breath and spent a few seconds composing himself. "But the pain won't last for more than a few hours. The fear that our child will be too weak to take care of itself will last Brendon a lifetime. I just... wish we could knock him out for the rest of it."

Spencer sighed. "You really love him, don't you?" he asked softly, all traces of anger forgotten.

Ryan's mind started whirling as he contemplated the question he'd somehow never asked himself before, but was saved from having to think it over too long when Brendon let out a heart-wrenching scream, his whole body arching and then shuddering as he turned his face into Ryan's stomach, sobbing loudly in pain. Ryan looked down at his stomach and had to swallow back bile at the sight. A crack had appeared over the bulge, and it was gushing a thick, pink mixture of blood and amniotic fluids. The young scientist couldn't even comprehend how much that must hurt, and Brendon had fallen silent in his lap, silent and still. Too still. Frantically, Ryan turned up his face, fumbling his finger across Brendon's neck until he finally found the galloping pulse. He let out a relieved breath.

"Passed out," Spencer stated. "All things considered, that's probably for the best." Someone had handed him a dampened piece of fabric, and he was carefully wiping away the fluids even as the gash seemed to slowly expand and movements could be seen on both sides of it. It really was like something out of an alien movie.

After a few minutes of absentmindedly stroking Brendon's hair and watching the happenings further down in morbid fascination, Ryan reeled in shock when a tiny, fat, bloody fist shot up. Spencer reached out his hands, probably to reach in and pull the baby out, but before he could get that far Skaara was right there, slapping his hands away with a fierce, protective look on his face. "I'm guessing you're not allowed to help yet," Ryan whispered shakily, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

Spencer nodded, and went back to dabbing at the growing gash, concern clear on his features.

It felt like half an eternity had passed when a tiny foot followed the fist out into the world, and Skaara gave Ryan a nod. "You may pull it out now," he stated.

"Me?" Ryan asked fearfully. He'd never even held a baby before. How was he supposed to be any good at delivering it? "Spencer is the doctor."

"It is a father's job, not a doctor's," Brendon's younger brother stated in a voice that invited no argument.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Ryan maneuvered out from under Brendon, carefully placing the boy's head back down on the skins before he moved down to sit on the opposite side of Brendon from where Spencer was. "How do I do this?" he asked, his voice trembling and high-pitched and anything but its usual monotone.

"Reach in," Spencer instructed, apparently having gotten the gist of the conversation that had gone on between Ryan and Skaara. "Feel around until you find the baby's waist. Hold it there and pull it out, gently, and make sure you support the head as soon as it's out."

Ryan nodded, counting to ten in his mind in an attempt to quell his nerves and steady his breathing and his frantic heart. Then he reached in, making a face at the fact that his hands were inside Brendon's stomach! "This is crazy," he whispered, finally finding what he thought was the baby's waist.

"You only realized that now?" Spencer countered, probably in an attempt to calm Ryan down.

Rolling his eyes, Ryan shifted his grip slightly and started pulling. His hands slipped on the first couple of tries, but on the fourth he seemed to have gotten it right, and suddenly he was holding a screaming, bloodied infant against his chest. His heart melted on the spot. The girl was tiny and red and wrinkled and not exactly a classical beauty right at that moment. But she was also the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on. He turned back to Brendon's face, momentarily forgetting about the boy's unconscious state in his rush to share the moment. His face fell when his gaze fell on Brendon's pale, still face. "Can we wake him?" he asked softly, instinctively stroking a hand up and down the baby's slippery back in an attempt to stop the wails.

"No," Spencer answered, shaking his head sadly. "Well, we could, but he'd wake up in nearly as much pain as he was in when he passed out. It's more merciful to let him sleep while we get him bandaged up, then put him on stronger anaesthetics and only then wake him up."

Ryan nodded despondently, holding the baby a fraction tighter. Then he turned to Skaara who had remained in the room as the only one. "Congratulations, uncle," he said with a small smile and felt a small flash of warmth at the big smile that spread over the boy's face. "What do you feed babies around here?"

"If there mother is female, she already has milk," Brendon's brother stated unnecessarily. "With the children of carriers milk is either given by a woman, maybe a second wife or a sister, or more commonly, milked from a mastadge." He grinned again. "I will go fetch some," he offered, and when Ryan nodded he hurried out, yelling proudly to the other boys that he was an uncle now.

Looking back at his daughter, Ryan felt his smile grow again. She was covered in blood and goo, was red and wrinkly and her tiny face was still scrunched up from screaming, but she had an adorable black tuft of hair on the top of her head, ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes, and she was his. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more perfect and precious in his entire life. He wasn't even really following what was happening when Spencer pushed a knife into his hand and instructed him to cut the cord, much more intent on that tiny little face in front of him.

What felt like only a moment later, Skaara pushed a primitive nursing bottle into his hand and Ryan sat down on the cave floor, baby still cradled in his arm, and put the nipple - which seemed to have been carved out of bone of some sort - into her mouth. Finally the wails stopped and she sucked away happily. Ryan finally regained the presence of mind to look up and check on Brendon. His stomach and abdomen were covered in bandages, presumably with a thick layer of the healing paste underneath, and there was a needle in his arm where Spencer was injecting the heavier pain medication. "Will he be all right?" Ryan asked softly.

Spencer sighed. "As you know, I've never actually been part of a male birth before," he stated, a hint of dry humour in his voice. "Honestly, Ryan... I have no idea." He sucked in a breath. "But it doesn't seem to be such an unusual occurrence here, so I think he probably will be. Weak and in pain for the next few days. But I imagine he'll recover. You saw how quickly everyone's wounds closed after the fight. He'll be all right, you'll see."

Ryan nodded, deciding to trust the medic on this one. It had, after all, been more or less the answer he'd been hoping for. At least partially. He turned his attentions, once again, back to his daughter. "Is she supposed to be this tiny?" he asked a moment later, watching intently as her eyelids pulled back for the first time, revealing a set of small, dark, pretty brown eyes.

"I'd be surprised if she weren't unusually small," Spencer stated. "After all, the gestation period was quite short, so it's amazing, really, that she has managed to get as large as she is." He flashed a small smile and put the needle and the tiny bottle of pain medication away again. "When I'm sure Brendon's okay I'll do my best to weigh and measure her and see just how small she is. At least everything seems to be in working order, right?"

Nodding absently once again, Ryan glanced over at Brendon's still form and felt a smile come alive on his own face when he realized the boy had started to move again, eyes beginning to flutter slightly to signal that he was on the verge of waking back up. He quickly moved closer, wishing absently that he had a hand free so he could reach out and touch and stroke and make absolutely sure that Brendon was still alive. "Hey," he whispered instead, voice soft and gentle. "Are you all right?"

"Hurts," mumbled a soft, tired voice as Brendon's eyes finally opened entirely. "I feel really... empty," he added after another moment. Then he shot up, so quickly that he let out a loud yell-bordering-on-scream at the pain of it, panting and gasping for long moments after. "Where is my baby?!" The fear was clear in his eyes, and entirely heart-breaking.

"She is right here," Ryan hastened to reassure, holding the baby so Brendon would be easily able to see her. "And she is fine and absolutely stunning. You did incredibly well." He smiled, wide and open. "I am beyond proud of you."

Ryan couldn't know if it were the words or the sight of the baby that did it, though he suspected the baby. Whatever the reason was, though, a moment later Brendon seemed to rise up over the pain and exhaustion, his face lighting up until it looked brighter and much more radiant than any sun. He held out his arms, barely wincing, and Ryan thought he saw tears in the boy's eyes when he carefully placed their daughter into the arms that were shaking with pain and fatigue. After a moment he looked up, eyes definitely damp. "Can we call her Nafretiri?" he asked, blushing a little at his own daring.

Beautiful creation, Ryan mentally translated. And the name was all the more perfect for the fact that Brendon had found the courage to suggest it. "It is perfect," he stated with a small smile before he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on the top of Brendon's sweat-dampened hair. "Absolutely perfect."



Nafretiri was only four days old when their spy came to the mines to find them again. This time he was fixed only with apprehensive, suspicious glares, but no loaded guns. Ryan looked up from where he was busy changing the pieces of cloth they used as diapers and ignoring the sniggers from the boys who were once again on about how that was not husband work. Well, Brendon was asleep, still exhausted from the birth, and he didn't see any of them offering. Besides, he liked spending time with the baby, even though she didn't do much except scream and sleep and eat and poop yet. And maybe changing diapers wasn't the greatest part of it, but he had nothing against it. He liked the feeling of taking care of her, of taking responsibility. Now, noticing the stranger, he quickly finished up and gently lifted the infant up in his arms before walking over to join the others.

"Could you ask him why he's here?" Walker immediately requested, cocking an eyebrow.

Ryan, feeling a little stupid in the role of interpreter, turned to the newcomer and relayed the question even as he subconsciously cradled his daughter a little closer to his chest now that he was in closer proximity to the - fortunately unarmed - alien.

"In spite of your efforts to intercept the loads of mineral, Ra nearly has enough," the guard, this time clad as Horus even though his headgear was down, stated. "He is awaiting one final load by tomorrow noon, from the main mine. The Earth weapon will be brought down to the Gate shortly before the arrival of the load. I believe your best chance would be to intercept the load between the mine and the ship. It will be under guard protection, but the guards are faithful to Ra, so you need not hesitate before exterminating them. Disguise yourselves as miners and enter the dock with the mineral load and fight if you are discovered. Disable the weapon. I can only hope you will take down the Lord as well."

Ryan turned back to Walker and translated once more, feeling the anxiety rising in him as he did. So this was it. 'The final battle', as he'd dubbed it in his mind, was less than a day away, and Earth's survival hung solely on their little group, and oh how Ryan did not feel up to the task, never mind the fact that he would much rather stay in the mines with Brendon and Nafretiri and wait for it all to blow over. Ryan wasn't a fighter. He was a scholar who'd document the fights a few thousand years after they'd taken place. He would much rather investigate history than make it.

Walker nodded slowly, humming for a moment. "We probably shouldn't tell him we don't intend to fight Ra unless we absolutely have to," he concluded with a straight face. "Tell him we will go, though. And then we should tell the team and the boys that tomorrow is the day."

Part Six