Coping Strategy
Fu-Dragon 2010
Rating: PG 13
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Colonel John Sheppard, Major Evan Lorne
Genre: Friendship, gen
Warnings: some swearwords
Spoilers: 4x04 Doppelganger, 2x08 Conversion, 2x13 Critical Mass.
Summary: Major Lorne has to deal with the aftermath of the episode 'Doppelganger' where he held Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Carter at gunpoint.
Disclaimer: All the characters from Stargate Atlantis do not belong to me. They belong to their respective companies, creators, and trademark/copyright holders. I will return them in almost the same shape I got them in.
ooooooooo
Colonel John Sheppard prowled the bowels of Atlantis. After the events of the day, he felt restless and still full of pent-up energy despite the time of night. Well, the chat in the mess with his team-mates, the doc and Col. Carter had been fun though kind of awkward, considering the fact that Kate Heightmeyer had died an unnatural death. But life had to go on.
Maybe it was the simple fact that everyone was too accustomed to losing members of their 'family' in the Pegasus galaxy that the loss of Kate hadn't affected them quite as hard as it should…or everyone had just gotten better at hiding their emotions. John didn't know what the truth was. Life in the Pegasus galaxy was so different compared to life on earth, it wasn't funny anymore. As always, all that was left was to accept the hard truth, pick up the pieces, cut your losses and move on…either that or request a transfer back to earth. But he knew what he preferred.
Taking a deep breath, John let the events of the past days go. There would be plenty of time to deal with things later…just not now. Consciously, he opened his mind to Atlantis. Soon he felt a tender tug at the edge of his awareness. The gentle hum of the city, especially at this time of night when everything was quiet around him, always had a soothing effect on him. He let himself drift for several minutes feeling the power, something akin to love, and the vigour before he cut the connection. Then he resumed his restless wandering.
ooooooooo
The muffled sound of a gun being fired made John halt in mid-stride. He stiffened, automatically dropping to a fighting stance and reaching for the Beretta 92F in his hip holster. It was then he realized he was near the firing range. A quick look at his wristwatch, showing 4:00 am earth time, made him wonder who had felt the urge to do target practice this late.
In long, purposeful strides he approached the area. As usual Atlantis reacted to his mental request eagerly and opened the door in front of him with an almost inaudible whoosh. Slipping silently into the large and dimly lit space, the Colonel hid in the shadows and risked a look. He spotted his XO pounding round for round into a tattered looking target, empty shells flying through the air. Loading, firing, loading, firing.
John peered more closely. He couldn't put a finger on it – not yet – but something here wasn't right. The whole atmosphere of the firing range, the smell of gun powder and stale sweat, something here felt different; for lack of a better term: just plain wrong. Leaning against the wall, the Colonel crossed his arms over his chest and continued to scrutinize Major Lorne.
After another two rounds of bullets had been sunk into the target, John realized what was making him so uneasy. First of all, Major Lorne held himself ramrod straight. At this angle his arms and shoulders must hurt like hell from the recoil of the weapon. The second thing, and much more disturbing to John, was that the Major's aim was completely off.
John knew Evan was one of the best sharpshooters in the city, maybe even better than himself. Then why was his XO missing the target? Something must have happened that had thrown the Major completely off the track.
Determined to get of the bottom of his longstanding friend's problem, John cleared his throat and stepped out of his hiding place.
"Hi Major," he addressed the man in front of him in his usual lazy drawl.
Lorne's back stiffened even more, and John saw the muscles spasm in Evan's neck. The XO let out a muffled gasp. He whipped around, a look of utter confusion on his face, eyebrows raised…and aimed at the Colonel.
"Whoa, easy Major," John exclaimed and held his hands up in a non threatening gesture, the situation feeling oddly familiar. After all, it had been just a few hours ago that he'd been held at gun point by his XO.
The Major blanched visibly. The Beretta fell out of his hand and clattered to the floor. "S…sorry, sir," Lorne stuttered and awkwardly bent down to retrieve the weapon.
John forced himself to relax and kept his face blank. "You wanna tell me what's got your panties in a knot?"
The Major didn't meet his eyes. He turned round, stowed the now secured Beretta away in his hip holster and picked up the unused ammunition.
"It's nothing, sir," he replied stiffly.
John rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on. Cut the crap, Evan. We're not on duty. You don't have to 'sir' me."
Evan merely shrugged, his eyes stubbornly downcast, his stance wide and his shoulders strained back at a painful angle.
John sighed and approached the clearly distressed man in front of him. His fingers curled around Evan's wrist and he gave it a gentle tug.
"Move. Let's go somewhere more comfortable and talk."
"No can do, sir. I have to clean up before I leave," the Major replied and took a step back.
"Forget about it, Evan. I'll take care of it later on." When he still didn't respond, John raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to make it an order?"
Evan gulped visibly and a little vein started to throb at his temple. "No, sir," he said in a low voice.
"John. My name's John, Evan. Try it. I know you can do it."
A full minute passed until Lorne uttered a nearly inaudible "John."
Outwardly unfazed, the Colonel graced Evan with a broad smile. "That's much better."
He put a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, ignoring the tensing of the muscles under his fingertips and steered Evan out of the firing range.
ooooooooo
The ten minute walk to John's quarters passed in strained silence. John led Evan to the only chair in the small room. Then he went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. He held one up for the younger man to see.
"Want one?"
Evan shook his head. "No, thank you, s…John. I'd rather keep a clear head."
John shrugged and put one beer back. He grabbed a bottle of water and threw it at Evan who caught it with practiced ease. Then the Colonel ambled over to the narrow bed, sat down, opened his beer and took a deep swig.
"Okay, Evan, spill it. What's up?" John encouraged his XO who still didn't show any sign of relaxation.
It took a while. The unopened bottle of water twirled endlessly in Evan's broad hands until he rumbled softly: "I remember."
John made the connection in an instant. In his mind's eye he saw Lorne standing in front of him, feet bare, sweating profusely, death grip on the Beretta and aiming at him and Colonel Carter. Lorne was adamant that John and Carter were replicators and demanded the use of a RG. The more John had tried to talk Evan out of the chimera, the more agitated Lorne had become. Then a shot from Ronon's elephant gun had rendered Evan unconscious. And when the Major was up and about again and stuck in the observation room, he'd told them he didn't remember a thing.
"When did your memory return?" John asked sympathetically.
"About an hour ago. I thought I was having a nightmare when I woke up but then I realized I wasn't." Evan choked on his words. "I…I'm so sorry, John."
*Crap!* John rubbed the back of his neck. When it came to emotions or feelings he was never good at voicing them aloud, let alone showing them. In fact, he dreaded such confrontations and always tried to avoid them. Well, it seemed as though he'd just run out of luck. Involuntarily, he straightened his posture and hoped he'd find the right words to put the man in front of him at ease.
"You don't have to apologize. No one blames you. It wasn't your fault. You were possessed by an alien entity. Stranger things have happened in Pegasus Galaxy."
"The hell it wasn't!" Evan shouted agitated. "It was my gun pointing at you, my finger curling around the trigger, my wish to kill you and Carter. How can you say it wasn't my fault?"
John didn't show his surprise at the sudden outburst. Evan was usually a pretty sober man, witty but quiet. He commented on more things via body language or his expressive eyes, was always calm and composed, but economic when it came to words. To tell the truth, John didn't even recall if he'd ever heard Evan yell. Until now…
'"Because it wasn't," John said flatly, unable to come up with something more ingenious.
Evan shot up from the chair and started pacing the room. Close to the door he twirled round and pointed an accusing finger at the Colonel.
"Do you have any idea how fucking close I came to fucking killing you? If Ronon hadn't shot me the moment he did, I would've pulled the trigger!"
"Well, if you were that eager to get my job, you simply could have asked," John drawled, at somewhat of a loss as to what to say.
"What?" Evan stared at him incredulously. "I tell you how close I was to finishing you off and all you can do is make a fucking joke out of it? Are you crazy?"
*Damn, I so suck at this emotional mumbo jumbo!* John took a deep breath and let a hint of steel slip into his voice.
"No, I'm not. You are the one who's losing it, my friend. And I won't stand back and watch my second in command tearing himself up about things that were completely out of his hands."
Evan stiffened again and shot the Colonel a defiant glare. "John, you don't understand. How can you even trust me anymore after everything I did? I should be in the brig."
A devilish smile tugged at the corner of John's lips. "Trust me on this, Evan. If I had the merest suspicion that you were responsible for your actions, I'd have you court-martialled faster than you can say 'earth'."
"But…"
"No! Drop it, Major!" John ordered in his best command voice. "Now get the hell away from that door, move your sorry ass over here and listen to me."
Evan's mouth snapped shut. Trained to obey orders without a thought, his shoulders slumped in defeat. John could literally see the defiance leaving Evan's body as he shuffled to the chair and slumped down onto it in a boneless heap.
Sighing deeply, John asked: "How can I make you believe that none of what happened was your fault?"
"I don't think you can," Evan answered honestly. When he looked up, unshed tears glittered in his eyes. "I think it's best if I request a transfer back to earth."
John felt sucker punched and icy cold. Goosebumps formed on his arms. Apart from Evan being his second in command, he was also one of John's closest friends. He trusted Evan with his life and he would not and could not afford lose another friend. Not over something like this.
"Do you really, and I mean with all your heart, want to give up everything you have here and go back to earth?"
Evan drew a shaky hand through his short cropped hair. "It's just….well, I don't see how I can stay here any longer. The moment you start second-guessing a member of your squad, it is best to separate."
John snorted. "What makes you believe I don't trust you anymore?" he asked puzzled.
"I wouldn't," Evan whispered, his lips drawn into a tight white line.
John crossed his ankles and leaned forward. "Just let me ask one more question. Do you trust Colonel Caldwell?"
"Huh? Of course I do. What does that have to do with the present situation?"
John suppressed a victorious smile. He'd cornered the younger man without Evan realizing it and now he moved in for the kill. If this didn't work to make Evan see the truth, John didn't know what would."
"Nothing and everything." John paused, amused by the confusion that was making Evan's eyebrows wiggle in an obstinate pattern. "You just told me that if I'd held you at gun point while possessed by an alien entity, you wouldn't trust me anymore. But you trust Caldwell who was inhabited by a Goa'uld not that long ago. How can this be?"
"How?…uh that was different. Caldwell wasn't responsible for his actions. There was nothing he could've done to fight the thing inside of him," Evan sputtered.
John shook his head in exasperation. Why the hell didn't Evan see how similar the two cases were? Apparently he needed to haul the big guns in so as to make his bullheaded XO see the truth.
"I see. And what about me? Once I turned into a freaking bug. As far as I remember, you were one of the first who volunteered to help Beckett go get the iratus eggs for the serum. I was out of my mind then, dangerous, attacking everyone who got near me. And yet – today – after all that happened, you are still here. Since then you've put your life into my hands more than once. Which means, despite everything I did to you and other people, you still trust me. Doesn't this mean that what you told me a minute ago can't be true?"
Evan hid his head in his hands. The fists opened and closed as if trying to grab something only he could see and a slight tremor shook his muscular frame.
"I don't know what the truth is anymore. What am I supposed to think? I can't help myself, I feel responsible, no matter what you say. What do you expect from me, John? Forget everything and move on?" He looked up and frowned at the superior. "No, it can't be that easy!" he emphasized.
"I never said it would be easy to live with the knowledge of what you've done. Trust me, I know how scared and helpless you must have felt. Impotent, disgusted at yourself, maybe even screaming in your mind with rage and fear and yet unable to stop."
Evan's whole demeanour changed. He straightened up, stopped fidgeting and trained his gaze on the Colonel. All of a sudden, John felt like a bug under a microscope. He had trouble meeting Evan's steady and intense stare.
"Is that how you felt when you were infected by the iratus bug retrovirus?" Evan inquired.
It was time for the truth. When John had started the conversation, he'd had no intention of putting himself into a vulnerable position, let alone exposing himself. But here and now he felt he had no other choice than to open up a part of himself that he'd hidden deep into his soul. If he closed up now he would lose Evan – he just knew it.
Taking a deep breath, John dropped his blank façade and let his emotions show in his face.
"Yeah, I did," he said softly, "and much more. It was the most terrifying experience of my life when my consciousness was altered by that damned bug. I was still in there, in my head, but I was too weak to fight the thing. Believe me, I tried, I tried so hard but it overpowered me on a regular basis every time I struggled to win back my own mind. The only times I managed it, was when Beckett used the inhibitor on me."
He paused and drained the beer in one big gulp before he continued. "When it was over, when Beckett administered the re-sequenced cells and I started to change back into human form, it took a great deal of time to get over everything. And I'm not talking about the physical condition of my body."
Unable to hold Evan's gaze any longer, John averted his eyes and played with the empty bottle in his hands.
"I'm sorry." Two words, sounding oddly muted, hung in the air, but meaning so much more.
"Yeah, me too," John responded in kind.
The companionable silence lasted several minutes. When John peered up through his eyelashes, he could see that Evan was deeply engrossed in thought. John prayed his friend would reach the right decision.
"How did you do it, John? How did you overcome your guilt?"
Startled John drew a deep breath. He grinned sheepishly.
"Well, I had and still have some very good friends who beat some sense into me. It's no fun when you're at the receiving end of Teyla's fighting rods or Ronon's hand to hand combat, especially when they are teaching you a lesson, they feel you need. Exercising with you also helped a great deal. The rest…uhm…you know I'm not a big talker. I guess I kinda looked for things to do in order to keep from thinking too much. In time, the guilt lessened and I came to terms with everything."
"That's why you pulled stunts like invading a Hive ship while sitting on an atom bomb?"
"No, absolutely not!" John exclaimed scandalized. "I know some people think I have a death wish, but I really don't! I did what I had to do to save everyone. That's my responsibility as the military leader of Atlantis. No more, no less."
John paused and locked his gaze with Evan's again, peering intently into the other man's eyes.
"Look, I can't tell you what you have to do to overcome your guilt. You are a different person than I am. What worked for me won't necessarily work for you. Also, I can't give you absolution, because first you have to forgive yourself. As I said before, no one else blames you except yourself. But what I can do is to promise that I will be here for you whenever you need me. That's what friends are for. Feel free to talk to me anytime, my door's always open for you, no matter what."
A small, boyish smile enlightened Evan's features. A sparkle of mischief that was so typical for the younger man returned into his eyes.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll take you up on your offer. Seems I'll have no other choice then than to get along with everything." A slight undercurrent of fear slipped into his tone. "Let's hope I have the strength it takes."
"You do!" John said with all the confidence he felt. "I didn't make you my second in command because we go more than six years back or because of your good looks. You are my right hand because you are level-headed, smart, and you keep your cool in combat. Also, the most important reason why I chose you is your strength, not just in body but also in mind. You…"
Evan held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, okay, I get it. No need to pepper me with praise. Unless you want to deal with another inflated ego like McKay's." The beginning of a true smile tugged at the slightly parched lips.
John responded with a wide grin of his own. "'Kay, got it. Cut the crap before the XO turns into the military version of a certain scientist we all know." As an afterthought he added: "Are we good?"
Evan nodded. "Yes, we're good."
"You're not going back to earth?"
"Nah, I'll stay. There's too many things to look forward to."
"No urge to train a gun on me? Or run through the corridors barefoot?" John teased.
Evan laughed heartily. "Nope. However, if you continue teasing me I might reconsider."
John's hand moved in a mocking circle. "I'll be good."
He stood up and stretched his back, smirking at the popping noises some of the vertebra made when they snapped back into place. Evan got up as well.
"What are we going to do now? I'm not tired." John bounced on his toes.
Evan fell into a comfortable military stance, hands clasped behind his back. "I don't know, though I have to admit I'm wide awake as well."
John chuckled. "I have an idea. It's close to half past six. What about visiting McKay in his lab? We can play a round of 'let's make the scientist's life miserable'."
Evan glared at John. "I scared enough people today, thank you very much." A wishful expression crept over his face. "It might sound strange but I'd like to watch the sunrise."
John completely understood what Evan didn't say. Sunrise meant they'd made it through another day. Living in a galaxy, three million light-years away from earth where danger lurked in every corner wasn't easy. Apart from the well known threats like the Wraith, the Genii and many more, the city was not even safe. All too often they stumbled into life-threatening situations while exploring unknown parts of Atlantis. All too soon your life could be over, wiped out by an unseen force, or a virus, or a mind-altering entity, or an enemy. Watching the first rays of sunlight of a new day wrap the city in its golden glow proved they were survivors. And yes, that's what they were - Survivors.
"Great idea," John announced cheerfully. He slapped Evan's back und gave him a gentle push. "Let's get moving."
As they left the room John couldn't resist teasing his friend, more than relieved that he hadn't lost him.
"In case you're still looking for absolution, I'm sure I can sneak in some extra hours with Ronon for you."
Evan grimaced theatrically. "Now you're getting cruel, sir."
"Me? Nah. Never," John said, a smile twitching in the corners of his mouth.
Almost straight away, the sound of elated laughter reverberated through the bowels of Atlantis. Everything was okay, some problems solved…at least for now.
The End
