Tight Spot
Season 2: Between Condemned and Trinity
He hated being cold and wet. It reminded him too much of the damp, dreary days as a kid when the fog would roll off the bay and into San Francisco where it would sit, shrouding everything in its path. Today, though, it seemed darker and damper than usual.
Evan pushed through the darkness, gradually moving towards the light. The insistent voice close by definitely helped.
"Major? C'mon, Lorne, open your eyes."
Evan swallowed hard, a quiet groan escaping him.
"That's it," the voice encouraged. "Wake up. Don't make me order you."
Evan's eyes slowly opened as he lifted his head, just a little, from the cool bulkhead wall. He was still in the pilot's chair, though he half wondered how he'd managed that. Evan turned his head slightly and blurrily met the gaze staring intently back at him. "Sir?" he managed quietly.
"Right here," Sheppard immediately answered. "Welcome back."
Evan tried to lift his head even more. "What happe…" Pain spiked through his skull and his head fell backwards. He barely felt Sheppard's hand catch and support it as he groaned, blood roaring in his ears and pain from more than one source flooding his senses. "Shit," he managed.
"Easy," Sheppard admonished lightly. "Looks like you took a pretty good crack to the head. Probably shouldn't be movin' around just yet, okay?"
Evan inhaled deeply, wincing against nausea and a shock of pain in his chest. "What happened?" he repeated softly. It was then that the chilly wetness returned, adding its sensation to the rest of his misery. Evan's brows furrowed. "Water?" He looked around, noticing the mangled pilot's console. His chair was bent at an odd angle, listing slightly to the left and against the jumper bulkhead. He leaned his head sideways against the jumper wall, freeing Sheppard's hands. Evan blinked, his gaze focusing out the windshield. Most of it was under water, the murky darkness casting an eerie shadow across the cockpit, but he still squinted against the glare of a sliver of sunlight streaming through the top.
"Crashed," Sheppard answered as he rummaged around Evan's seat. "Not sure what the hell happened, but I think it was the stabilizers. You did manage to drop us into a pretty impressive lake, though." He looked back at Evan. "Looks like we got a slow leak." Sheppard looked down and Evan's eyes followed his gaze, fixing on the couple of inches of standing water on the floor. "We're not moving or sinking," Sheppard continued, "and that sunlight is telling me at least the top of the jumper is out of water, so we're not that deep."
Evan blinked hard as gentle waves sloshed up and down against the glass, sporadically blocking the minimal sunlight. He could feel some movement of the jumper—the gentle push of water against the hull—but the colonel was right. They were mostly stable and definitely not sinking. Memories flashed through his head. The jumper pitching and bucking under his hands, losing control….
"Sorry, sir," he said, looking down towards his CO.
Sheppard was crouched, facing the dashboard just next to Evan's legs. He looked like he was pulling on something, but he stopped and turned, fixing Evan with a forthright stare.
"Don't apologize, Major. The fact that you got us down in one piece was pretty damned impressive." He turned back to the dash and grunted as he pulled on the bottom. "Obviously, you didn't need this milk run resupply mission to practice your flying skills."
"Some milk run," Evan muttered.
Sheppard chuckled and turned back to the damaged console. "Haven't been here long enough to figure out Pegasus yet, have you, Major? These are always the ones that end up biting you in the ass."
Evan managed a faint smile. He knew full well his CO was not only making sure he stayed conscious, but trying to keep his spirits up as well. Evan knew the technique and appreciated Sheppard's efforts. "Not much different… than the SGC… sir." He heard Sheppard chortle.
"Probably not." Sheppard sat back on his heels, turned his head, and looked at Evan. "Can you move your legs?"
Evan slowly lifted his head and tried to lift his legs. Immediately, pain tore through his left leg and his head fell back against the bulkhead, his eyes squeezing shut as a strangled shout escaped him. He opened his eyes, panting through the pain as Sheppard immediately returned to his side, his strong reassuring hand gripping Evan's shoulder.
"Whoa… take a couple deep breaths and then tell me what's wrong."
Sheppard's voice was quiet but mixed with an odd combination of reassurance and command, and Evan drew strength from it. He followed Sheppard's direction before speaking. "Leg," he gasped. "Oooh, yeah, pretty… sure that's… broken…."
"Got it," Sheppard responded. "What else?"
"Ribs…" Evan forced his scattered mind to focus. "Head. Don't think… anything else."
"Okay." Sheppard's fingers tightened slightly on Evan's shoulder. "Try not to move."
Evan took his advice. Well, mostly. Puzzle pieces in his mind snapped into place, and he figured he had a pretty good idea why Sheppard had been fussing with the dash. He flexed his right leg and tried to move it, only to have his suspicions confirmed. "Sir," he swallowed, "my legs are pinned."
Sheppard's gaze was unwavering as he nodded. "Suspected as much. Almost wasn't able to get out myself."
Evan squinted, his eyes focusing on a smear of red on Sheppard's forehead. "Sir, your head. You… okay?"
Sheppard lifted his hand, and winced as he brushed his fingers over the drying blood. He looked down at his hand and grunted quietly. "Wondered why that hurt." He slowly stood and patted Evan's shoulder once. "Sit tight." He walked out of Evan's line of sight, heading towards the rear.
Evan looked down at the dash. The dark panel didn't reassure him, but he tapped a few controls anyway, unsurprised as they failed to respond. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, remembering Sheppard's words the first time he'd instructed Evan on flying jumpers.
She'll listen to you if you talk to her….
He'd been dubious of Sheppard's directions but had followed his CO's command anyway. The first time he'd connected with a jumper had been amazing. In his mind, he had felt the little ship, almost a life of its own, and felt every command at his beck and call. Evan closed his eyes and concentrated, but this time, he was met with nothing but silence. "Dead," he muttered.
"What?" Sheppard's voice echoed from the back.
"Dead, sir," Even winced, his headache protesting his louder voice. "No power."
"Yeah, noticed that." Sheppard walked back and crouched next to him again. His gaze was searching as it passed over Evan's face and then his body. "Service number, major?"
Evan smiled slightly. "Do I look… that bad, sir?"
Sheppard chuckled. "You know the routine, Lorne. If that goose egg were any bigger, it'd take up half your forehead. Service number and mission."
"A-1714755," Evan recited, the number almost instinctive to him. "Mission was to… resupply Dr. Monroe's team… studying the glacial retreat… on P19-442. We're still on the planet." His brows quirked weakly. "And before you ask, it's Wednesday."
Sheppard's expression was mildly amused and he nodded. "Good. Dry, boring, and tedious. This mission in a nutshell… supposedly." He stood up and walked out of Evan's line of sight again, but behind him, Evan could hear the colonel open one of the jumper's crystal bays.
Evan blinked and tried to stay focused. The mission had become anything but boring. Certainly not what he'd expected during mission prep back on Atlantis…
Evan turned, his eyes widening in surprise as Sheppard walked up the jumper ramp towards him. "Sir?"
Sheppard's smile was relaxed and easy. "Thought I'd tag along and co-pilot for you, Major."
Evan's brows furrowed in confusion. He knew why he was flying a standard resupply mission, he needed to up his flight time in jumpers so the next time something not so normal came along, which seemed to be a frequent occurrence on Atlantis, he'd have more experience. But Sheppard co-piloting a resupply mission made no sense to him. Evan entertained a moment of slight amusement as he wondered what tedious administrative job his CO was ducking out of.
Sheppard apparently read Evan's confused expression. "I'm the military commander. I get to pick and choose my missions," he mocked lightly.
That was exactly Evan's thought, but he still couldn't make a connection. His gaze was as pointed as his response. "Yes, sir."
"Not much gets past you, does it, Major?" Sheppard answered. His small smile seemed approving.
Evan smiled a little in return, relieved that the colonel didn't seem annoyed at the questions. "I try not to let it, sir."
Sheppard chuckled. "It's been hell and crazy the couple months you've been here, Lorne. If you're going to be my XO, I thought maybe you and I should get to know each other a little better. Don't you agree?"
Evan's thoughts lingered on Sheppard's words as he came back to the present. The colonel had been right. Between the aftereffects of the siege, chasing Lieutenant Ford, Dr. McKay's body sharing experience, and fighting free from a bunch of convicts and Wraith colluders, there'd hardly been any time for Sheppard to relate his expectations to his new XO, much less have any conversations unrelated to an immediate threat or need. Some days, Evan wondered if he was doing the right thing, but he held onto his training and when all else failed, either followed SOP to the letter or let his SGC-honed instincts guide him, hoping he didn't FUBAR anything. He nodded slightly, once again as impressed as he was that moment during the mission prep. It spoke volumes to him that the circumstances hadn't gone unnoticed by Sheppard. "So much for… dry, boring, and tedious, sir."
Sheppard's response was precluded by a quiet chortle. "Yeah, this is definitely not what I had in mind for this mission."
"Glad to hear you… say that, sir," Evan answered. "I was… just wondering if I should be… worried," he quipped weakly.
Sheppard chuckled. "I may face life or death almost daily, but it doesn't mean I go looking for it for me or anyone on my team."
Evan's brows quirked. "There are rumors… in the SGC to the contrary… sir." A long pause followed his words and for a moment, Evan wondered if he'd overstepped his bounds.
"Probably are," Sheppard finally answered, quietly. He took a deep breath. "I'm surprised then, that you took this post."
Evan's smile faded. He'd heard all the rumors. The disgraced major shooting Sumner not long after the expedition had arrived in Atlantis and taking command of the military. And, as often happened with rumors, the story was embellished with each telling, until some were convinced, though they never said it above whispers, that Sheppard had intended to kill Sumner from the start in order to take command.
Evan had even heard that Sheppard was screwing Weir and had her firmly under his control for it. After all, some of the rumors about Weir—the female civilian commander of Atlantis—weren't much nicer. How else could Sheppard have gotten his promotion and been given command? Why else would Weir vouch for him and push to make him the military CO of Atlantis? Though that one, whispered by a young sergeant in the mess, had been firmly squashed by Evan. He didn't know the colonel at the time, but there were some things he flat out wouldn't tolerate.
And then there were the ones saying that Sheppard, because he was "disgraced," had a death wish and was a danger to anyone around him. To some, that prospect explained the "nuke incident" during the siege, but to Evan, there was more to it. Sure, if Sheppard had wanted to die, that would've been a hell of a way to go, but it was also damned gutsy and courageous, and spoke of a level of integrity and personal character in Sheppard that held firm, even when everything was collapsing around him.
Evan had seen men talk about how courageous they were and how much balls they had in any situation, but he'd learned long ago that the blowhards were the ones who crumbled more often than not, leaving true heroism and courage to the ones who never talked about it. Before he ever took the post, Evan had decided that Sheppard fell into the latter category. He wasn't alone either. With routine contact between the SGC and Atlantis reestablished, the full picture of what Atlantis had endured that first year was being painted, along with Sheppard's role in it. The same embellishment that had cast Sheppard in a bad light also, oddly enough, made him into some sort of folk hero and legendary figure "way off in another galaxy fighting life sucking aliens."
It was strongest amongst the new recruits, the ones rearing to get out, fight, and kick some alien ass without ever having seen the horror of what they were fighting, especially when those aliens did a little ass kicking of their own. No one got duty at the SGC fresh out of Basic, but still, a lot of those guys saw a disgraced chopper pilot turned hero, who had command of an isolated base in what was essentially an active war, and who managed to pull off victory. Most guys served entire careers never getting a chance like that. To them, it made Sheppard a hero, and Evan never saw it more clearly than when he watched seasoned officers, transferred to Sheppard's command, trip over their own tongues the first time they met him.
Evan had heard it all and suspected Sheppard at least had wind of the rumors, even if he didn't know the details.
When the position on Atlantis had been offered to Evan, he'd given it a lot of thought. The rumors, on both sides of the spectrum, had never influenced him. He'd been around the military long enough to know rumors were a dime a dozen, but he still carefully considered the position. In the end, his trust in Landry, O'Neill, and the SGC had won out. He'd been at the SGC for several years and knew well the men he served under, not the least of which was General O'Neill, who'd personally offered him the position. If O'Neill trusted Sheppard, tarnished record and all, then Evan figured that was good enough for him.
"I don't place much stock in… rumors, sir." He could practically hear Sheppard's smile.
"Good to know."
Evan turned his head slightly towards the rear of the jumper, though he still couldn't see his CO. "Since we're asking… sir," he ventured hesitantly, "why did you…"
"Pick you?" Sheppard finished.
Evan smiled just a little. "Yes, sir. I… I have an idea who was on the short list. Some damned good officers."
"Yep," Sheppard answered. "Had a hell of a time with that."
Evan let the silence linger, thinking that maybe Sheppard was concentrating on what he was doing.
"Then I saw a mission report in your file from P3X-295."
Memories immediately came back to Evan. P3X-295 was a planet and a mission he'd never forget. Sheppard seemed to know and didn't feel the need to add any details to jog Evan's memory, but he suspected his CO had his own mental lists of planets and missions that fit the same bill.
"Did a hell of a job keeping your team alive, Major," Sheppard added.
Evan's mind raced over the memories. Jaffa everywhere. The team cut off from the gate. Colonel Harris killed by a staff blast in the first salvo. Lieutenant Meyers critically wounded in the leg and bleeding out. To this day, Evan sometimes couldn't believe they'd gotten out of that one alive. "Not all of us made it back, sir," he answered quietly.
"Yeah," Sheppard answered equally as quiet. "Shit happens, Lorne. It sucks, but it still happens anyway."
Evan could see Harris' face. The man had been his direct team commander for two years and had pulled all of their asses out of the fire more than once, before he'd been killed. Harris had been unorthodox but still an unquestionable leader, and Evan had come to learn that those traits seemed to be common amongst the SGC's best officers. Evan had killed the Jaffa that'd shot Harris, but it was scant comfort.
"You kept your team together and got their asses out alive, in a situation that couldn't have been more FUBAR'd if planned," Sheppard continued. "Things go to hell in a hand basket fast out here, Major, and you have to adapt just as fast and keep a cool head, even if everything's crashing down around you, because lives are at stake." Sheppard took a deep breath. "You hate that mission, and I don't blame you, but it showed me the traits I needed in an XO."
Evan could hear a note of regret in Sheppard's voice, probably echoing the colonel's own decisions. Lives lost that had to be shoved aside in order to think clearly and save the ones that could still be saved. Wrong choices, made for the right reasons, that still led to the deaths of others. Evan knew those choices, those memories, colored Sheppard's voice. "Thank you, sir," he answered quietly, but somehow, it didn't quite feel like the right thing to say.
"Don't thank me yet," Sheppard answered, his voice slightly mocking.
Evan abruptly tensed at the zap and sizzle that came from behind him, followed by Sheppard's curse and the crashing sound of the colonel falling. He lifted himself half out of his seat, only to fall back against it with a grunt of pain, his ribs protesting loudly. "Sir?" he managed, all the while berating himself for trying to move. Your leg's broken and you're pinned, dumbass!
"I'm all right," Sheppard quickly answered. "Just got shocked. Fingers are a little numb, but I'll live." He walked into Evan's line of sight, shaking his left hand vigorously. "Damn it. You'd think I'd learn to listen to McKay's technobabble by now," he groused.
"Yes, sir," Evan gasped.
Sheppard stared hard at him. "I thought I told you not to move, Major."
"Sorry, sir," Evan frowned. "Reflex."
One side of Sheppard's mouth lifted just a little, his expression understanding. "Right."
Evan had the distinct feeling that had their positions been reversed, Sheppard probably would've done the same thing. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he looked to the pilot's console, noticing one light blinking silently back at him. "Colonel?"
Sheppard's gaze fixed on the light and his eyes widened. He reached out, gently setting his hand on the console and near to the light. "Come on, baby," he muttered, his voice almost tender as he closed his eyes.
Abruptly, the HUD flickered on, the image distorted but readable.
Sheppard opened his eyes, "Whoa. Glad you crashed where you did. Another few feet and we'd be in serious trouble."
Evan scanned the topographical image of the lake bottom and nodded slightly. The jumper seemed to be perched on a sandbar, and not fifty feet from their position, a sheer drop off led to much deeper waters.
"Five hundred to a thousand feet at least," Sheppard muttered. "Let's hope we're pretty stable where we are."
"Yeah," Evan agreed. On sand, especially in the fluidness of water, if they were too close to the edge, the ground under them could erode away, sending them over the edge. "Think the jumper could take the pressure?"
Sheppard shook his head. "No idea. Would rather not find out." He cocked his head. "Damn big lake. Lake Superior's got nothing on this pond."
Evan's gaze fixed on something else on the HUD and his eyes widened.
"What the hell…" Sheppard's voice trailed off as he presumably stared at the same thing that caught Evan's attention. On the edge of the scanner's range, two large life form signals blinked back at them silently.
"Whatever they are," Evan answered, "they're big."
"Huge," Sheppard added. He sighed loudly. "I always say it's better to know what's out there than to not, but sometimes I question that," he grumbled. "I felt better about this situation a couple minutes ago than I do now." He shook his head, "For whatever that's worth."
"Maybe they won't… notice us," Evan offered, knowing his reassurance was weak at best.
"Or they're not looking for a hot lunch," Sheppard quipped darkly. "Let's hope these aren't Pegasus versions of Jaws we're dealing with."
Evan watched the signals for a moment. "If they are… You're gonna need a bigger boat." He said quietly, the words escaping him before he even realized it. Maybe it was his injuries or his state of mind or both, but he had no idea why that thought came to him or, on hindsight, how his CO would react. Still, he wondered what Roy Scheider would think.
After a minute, Sheppard's expression turned darkly bemused. "I hope it doesn't come to that, Major." He reached down, tapping a button to open a communications channel. "Base camp, this is Jumper Three. Do you copy?" He shook his head as silence greeted them. "Base camp this is a mayday, Jumper Three. Please respond." Silence again greeted his hail. Sheppard sighed and stood.
Evan instinctively reached out as his CO staggered, his hand pressing into his forehead. "Sir?" His fingers flexed against open air and he slowly lowered his arm.
Sheppard grabbed the back of the co-pilot's seat and hunched over for a moment, before straightening. "Damn it," he muttered.
Evan pushed aside his own pain and focused on the colonel. "Maybe you should… sit down?"
But Sheppard waved him off. "Later. Don't know how long that patch will last. We need to find a way to boost communications and get help." He abruptly grabbed onto the back of the co-pilot's seat again, but this time it was for balance as the jumper lurched.
Evan's hands unconsciously tightened on the console as the jumper shuttered for a minute before stilling, but through the HUD, he could see silt and sand clouding the water. "We… slid."
"As if we didn't have enough to worry about," Sheppard answered. He looked at the HUD. "Crap."
Evan silently agreed. Not only had they slid closer to the edge, but their mysterious life signs were moving closer as well. Abruptly, the HUD flickered and went dark.
"Aw, damn it!" Sheppard hurried to the back of the jumper and Evan could hear him fussing with the crystal tray. "Come on, come on," Sheppard muttered, "not now."
Evan's teeth chattered and it took a moment for him to realize that the line of cold from the water on his legs was higher. He looked down, his eyes widening at the water level that had risen significantly without him noticing. "Sir, the… water." He could still hear Sheppard working on the crystal tray and he didn't even pause.
"Noticed, huh?"
Evan let his head fall back against the cold bulkhead. Sheppard had already known; he just hadn't said anything. From the looks of things, their slow leak wasn't so slow anymore. "Yes… sir," he answered his voice hitching from shivering. The cold's effect had come on fast, and Evan figured it was the water and his injuries both, in their own ways, catching up with him.
"Hang in there, Major," Sheppard answered his tone calm and reassuring. "We're gonna get out of this."
Evan smiled slightly and tried to take comfort in his CO's words, but in truth, he knew that in Sheppard's position, he'd be saying the same thing with the same amount of confidence in spite of the situation. Still, he once again appreciated the effort. "Yes… s-sir," he answered, the slur and hitch in his words increasing. He knew Sheppard heard it as well. Evan could feel his strength waning, and pinned in his chair, he couldn't do anything about it.
"Your jacket says you grew up in San Francisco?" Sheppard asked abruptly.
"Yes, s-sir," Evan answered, finding a smile in spite of his misery. "Mom's… an art teacher."
"Your dad?" Sheppard asked.
Evan's smile faded. Faint memories came back to him, barely more than blurred images in his head. "Died when I was six. B-boating accident."
"I'm sorry," Sheppard answered quietly.
"S-okay, sir," Evan answered. "Don't remember much… of h-him." He pushed away his thoughts and changed topics, holding onto the conversation as a way to try to keep a clear head. Keep it together! he ordered himself. "What about your family… sir?" A long pause followed his question, and for a moment, Evan wondered if his CO had heard him.
"They live in Maryland," Sheppard finally answered.
Evan waited for more, but the guarded tone of Sheppard's voice told him that was probably all he'd get. As the silence dragged on, his suspicions were confirmed.
"Art teacher, huh?" Sheppard spoke again, his tone lighter. "What kind?"
Evan smiled again. "Painting. She's really… good. Taught… me." He closed his eyes, memories coming back of warm days in Golden Gate Park, learning to paint. His first completed work had been the bridge.
"Really? You paint?"
Sheppard's words sounded distant as Evan's mind floated, his head bobbing and slowly falling forward.
"Composition is important, Evan. You have to draw the viewer to your focal point. Know what that is before you even start…."
"Lorne!"
Evan's eyes snapped open, the sharp jostling of his body startling him. He looked up, meeting Sheppard's intense stare.
"You need to stay awake, Major," Sheppard's low voice matched the intensity of his stare. "You understand me?"
Evan drew in a shallow breath, suddenly realizing how close he'd come to checking out. He nodded. "Yes, sir. S-sorry."
Sheppard's intense look softened into more of an understanding one and he simply returned Evan's nod.
Evan looked down, noticing again the ever rising water level. "S-sir," he met Sheppard's gaze again, "you can go… get help."
Sheppard shook his head. "Negative." He looked up at the windshield. "From the looks of the water level, opening the back will flood the jumper nearly full." He paused, looking back at Evan. "Over your head for sure," he added quietly.
Evan shook his head. "C-close the bulk-head door."
Sheppard's headshake was more emphatic this time. "No."
But Evan wouldn't be deterred. He couldn't see a way for them to get out, and he certainly wasn't going to get free by himself. In fact, he doubted even the colonel could free him on his own, not without equipment they didn't have. He fortified his confidence and tried to even out his rough speech. "Sir, the g-gate is only a couple miles. You can… get help."
Sheppard's gaze was hard. "I'm not leaving you here alone, Major. The jumper's unstable and you're trapped. Not gonna happen."
Evan pushed himself up straighter. "Sir…."
Sheppard pinned him with a glare. "Lorne," he snapped, cutting Evan off. He looked down at the rising water level, and then back up at Evan. "Don't make me spell out all the reasons why my leaving is a bad idea." He took a deep breath. "We're already overdue. Atlantis will contact the camp, find out that we left, and send another team to find us. I'm not leaving you here alone, and that's final. Is that clear, Major?"
Evan closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "Y-yes, sir." His grip tightened on the console as the jumper shuttered again, sliding for a few seconds before stopping.
Sheppard abruptly stood and sloshed through the water back to the crystal tray. "Damn it. There has to be some power somewhere."
Evan could hear him rustling around in the crystal tray again.
"You still paint, Major?" Sheppard asked.
Evan smiled slightly. "H-haven't in a… a while," he answered. "H-hoping to again. City has… some great… views."
"That she does," Sheppard answered softly. "I'd recommend the northwest pier for starters, but you're the artist."
"You'd know better… th-than me," Evan answered. He looked down, watching as the water crept up his legs to his knees. He swallowed hard, trying to focus, trying to stay conscious… trying not to give in to fear.
"Why the military?"
Sheppard's voice grabbed his attention. Evan took a breath, fortifying himself. "Family. Grandfather was… in World War… Two. D-Day. Omaha… Beach." The sounds of Sheppard working ceased as the colonel apparently paused in his tampering.
"Omaha Beach survivor?" Sheppard asked. "Wow."
Evan nodded slightly. Normandy on D-Day had been devastatingly lethal to the Allied Forces, including Omaha Beach, where the ocean ran red with blood. "He didn't t-talk much… about it," Evan answered, unable to keep the stuttering out of his voice but he realized he wasn't fooling Sheppard anyway. The colonel knew exactly what his condition was. Evan scrunched his eyes shut, trying to focus. "Grandpa talked about... how proud he was to serve his… country. Had the Purple Heart and Bronze St-star. I decided in high… school, I wanted to serve mine." Evan took a deep, stuttering breath. "You, sir?"
Sheppard was quiet for a moment before answering. "Something like that," he replied.
Evan's brows furrowed. "S-sir?"
"My family wasn't exactly on board with my decision," Sheppard answered quietly, his voice barely auditable over the sounds of him working on the crystals, "but all I wanted to do was fly. Figured the Air Force was a great way to make that happen."
Evan thought for a moment, all the rumors and criticisms he'd heard about Sheppard fading. Through all that, no one really knew the colonel that well, though that seemed to suit him just fine. Evan wasn't sure what to think about Sheppard opening up, even a little, to him, but he decided to take it at face value and accept the trust implied. He smiled. "Yes, sir. Me too. Love to… fly. Grandpa wanted me to be a… grunt."
Sheppard chuckled. "Glad to have you on our team instead, Major."
Evan tensed as the jumper again slid, this time jarring his leg and ripping a hoarse cry from him as pain overcame the cold numbness of water. He shouted again, fighting the blackness at the edge of his vision as he felt the sharp ends of his broken bone grind against each other.
"Lorne?" Sheppard splashed through the deepening water, staggering against the shifting jumper. A wave of water splashed Evan in the face and he shook his head, coughing against the pungent taste that flooded his mouth. He felt Sheppard's hands under his arms, from behind, supporting him as they rode out the slide.
"Easy, I got ya!" Sheppard reassured from behind the seat. Abruptly as it started, the slide stopped, leaving an eerie quiet around them, broken only by the soft lapping of water against the bulkhead. The slice of sunshine streaming through the top of the jumper's windshield had dwindled by half.
Sheppard craned his head and looked down at Evan. "You okay?"
Evan nodded as he gasped for breath. His eyes widened at the shadows he saw in the murky water. He wanted to believe that his eyes were playing tricks on him and that he wasn't seeing gigantic outlines of tail fins. "Sir," he felt Sheppard's hands tighten in tension.
"Shit," Sheppard muttered. "They're not exactly helping our stability here."
Evan nodded a little, feeling the sway of water against the jumper and watching the silt and sand swirl in the turbulence left by the motion of the fins. He sighed quietly as the fins disappeared into deeper water, but for a moment, he wasn't sure which was worse—seeing the fins and knowing they were there, or the foreboding absence of them and the anticipation of a surprise attack. His muddled mind briefly entertained the thought of monstrous sharks suddenly appearing and biting the jumper in half. He shook off the unsettling image, focusing on the present, which he quickly determined wasn't that much more of a pleasant situation. "I'd rather not… be eaten… today," he quipped weakly.
Sheppard's quiet bark of laughter was brief. "Me neither, Major. Not that I need to be thinking about the possibility of gigantic sharks right now."
Evan tensed as the cold shock of water crept towards his waist. He took one stuttering breath, and then another as he tried to quell his rising and instinctive panic with his solid training. He had to keep it together, stay conscious and coherent, so Sheppard could concentrate on saving both of them. Evan fortified his strength. He refused to be an extra burden on his CO; refused to break down in a pinch. Five years in the SGC, most on offworld teams, and he'd earned his spot as Sheppard's XO. He was damn sure going to prove that his position was well-earned. He stared forward, his gaze piercing through the murky water on the other side of the windshield as he focused, trying to keep his thoughts together. Gigantic shadows appeared in the distance, barely visible in the dark water, before they dove again, tails waving through the water. The jumper shook slightly from the turbulence before sliding a few more feet. "Go away… damn it," he whispered. His lips tightened around his teeth and he noisily inhaled through his nose as the water covered his hips.
"Lorne… Evan."
Evan slowly looked to his right, meeting Sheppard's strong, and reassuring expression, but didn't say anything. Somehow, he knew he didn't need to, and that Sheppard had read all he needed to from Evan's face.
"We're going to get through this… both of us," Sheppard answered quietly.
Evan's nod was jerky and he fought to keep his eyes open. He coughed weakly and took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow as the water sloshed across his lap. "Definitely need a… bigger… boat." He swallowed, "S-sir." Through what felt like a Herculean act, Evan managed a weak smile.
Sheppard chuckled just a little as he shifted into the mangled seat behind Evan, propping him up higher as the water slowly deepened. "And the blonde skinny-dipper from the beginning. Remember her?" He slid his arms under Evan's and clasped his hands to his wrists across Evan's chest.
Evan held onto his smile. No red-blooded boy who'd seen Jaws could forget her. "Oh…yeah. She was… hot."
"Yeah," Sheppard agreed. "That guy must've been really drunk to pass out and miss a chance with her."
"Too bad… she got… eaten," Evan answered.
"That was damned freaky," Sheppard answered. "Scariest part of the movie." He looked down at Evan again. "And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll make your life hell, Major."
Evan smiled once more, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Y-yes, sir. Ya know… Ellen… Brody wasn't… bad, in a… a 'girl next door' sort-a… way."
"Hmm," Sheppard answered. "I think I'll stick with the blonde skinny dipper."
For a moment, Evan remembered the silhouette of the nude woman as she ran into the ocean and was inclined to agree with the colonel. "Yes, sir. I… I'm warmer… already."
Sheppard laughed quietly before speaking. "How's the leg?" he asked, the mirth fading out of his voice.
Evan could feel his CO shift behind him as Sheppard used his body to help prop Evan higher out of the water. "Can't feel it… sir. Cold."
"Okay." Sheppard's voice was neutral but his grip on Evan was strong and unwavering. "My team will be here," he said confidently and didn't move.
Evan couldn't help but notice that Sheppard had silently given up on restoring power. But, though he couldn't fix the problem on his own, his confidence that they'd be okay never wavered. Evan knew all too well that sometimes in a life or death situation, the best way to help yourself was to just stay alive and trust that your team would help you. In his time serving not only in the Air Force but at the SGC, he'd learned the value and truth of that ideology. It was something he easily identified with.
Evan's thoughts turned to Sheppard's team. He'd read the reports and knew the value of all of them. Sheppard's choices for his team had proven to be exceptional choices, and Evan was amongst those who believed they had a lot to do with Atlantis' survival that first year, alone and cut off. The loss of Lieutenant Ford had been tough, but the team had persevered, just as good teams do.
Thinking about Sheppard's team and Ford, made Evan think about Ronon. He had nothing against offworlders serving on SGC teams; he'd served with Teal'c in the SGC and had read the reports on how invaluable Teyla had been so far. But to him, Ronon was different. Evan had been there on the planet, searching for Ford and encountering Ronon. He hadn't been face to face with the big man, but he knew what'd happened, how Ronon had debated flat out killing Sheppard and Teyla, though in the end, he hadn't.
Sure, Ronon had been on Atlantis for a couple of months, but still, no one really knew anything about him except that his home world had been destroyed and that he was hell bent on extracting revenge on any Wraith he encountered. Evan knew he should trust Sheppard's instincts, but still, he had reservations.
"Lorne?" Sheppard questioned, his voice breaking the silence.
"St-still here," Evan answered.
"Good," Sheppard replied. "What's on your mind?"
Evan's lips quirked. "Sir?"
"Out with it. Could pretty much hear you thinking," Sheppard's voice was bemused.
Evan sighed as the water crossed his abdomen. "S-sir, about… Ronon…." His voice trailed off.
"What about him?"
Evan thought he heard some guard in his CO's tone, but he plowed on. "You sure he… should be on… your team?"
"Yes." Sheppard's answer was immediate and confident. "You're not?"
Before Evan could answer, Sheppard continued.
"Don't be a yes-man, Lorne, not if you're going to be my XO." His voice held a note of warning, and Evan took it to heart.
"Not sure, s-sir," Evan tried to focus on his words, choose the right ones, but at this point, he realized he was lucky to just form coherent sentences. "Hasn't been around… long."
"Neither have you," Sheppard quipped. "Don't answer that. I get your point." Sheppard shifted his weight a little, but his grip on Evan didn't falter. "I bet I can list all of the reasons going through your head on why I should've at least waited longer before asking Ronon onto my team." He paused and seemed to consider his own words. "In some ways, I agree with you."
Evan's brows furrowed as he tried to read his CO's thoughts. "Yes, sir," he answered neutrally.
"My gut said otherwise," Sheppard stated quietly, "and I've learned to listen to it. Especially here."
Impulsive. Rash. Stubborn. Evan had heard those words, along with many others—some not so polite—used to describe Sheppard around the SGC. But as Evan's mind drifted back over not only the events that had happened in his brief time on Atlantis but also at the SGC, he realized that "impulsive" and "rash" were descriptors assigned by someone who hadn't been in Sheppard's boots. Impulsive was another word for quick decisions, some of which had saved lives. Lives that would've been lost had those decisions been delayed. Stubborn was another word for knowing what needed to be done and doing it, however unpleasant and whatever the consequences, and in spite of a clueless bureaucracy that liked to dictate policy to the SGC, and now Atlantis, at any opportunity.
"Ronon's a good fighter." Sheppard continued. "He knows Pegasus and he knows how to fight the Wraith. Those are invaluable skill sets for my team and for Atlantis."
Evan's nod was jerky. "As long as… he's not a… loose cannon… sir."
"Agreed," Sheppard answered immediately. "And he's not."
Evan felt that he was skirting close to the boundaries of protocol on this conversation, but he didn't hear any coldness in Sheppard's tone so he pushed on, using the conversation to try to stay conscious. "You're sure, sir?"
Sheppard was silent for a moment and Evan wondered if he had crossed those lines by questioning his CO's words. "I'm sure." Sheppard finally answered, no malice, only confidence in his voice. "He pushes the boundaries of command but understands and respects it. I was pretty sure that's how he'd operate, and he proved it on Olesia." Sheppard shifted forward, pushing Evan up straighter as the water crept upwards. "He gave me static about an order until I really made it an order, and that was all it took." What could've passed as a chuckle rumbled through Sheppard's chest and into Evan's back. "Maybe he's payback for all the times I've been a pain in the ass to past COs in my career."
Evan smiled a little. 'Pain in the ass' was one of the more mild descriptors he'd heard about Sheppard's regard for the military chain of command, and yet the men who served under him thrived under his unorthodox leadership. Evan had been on Atlantis long enough to see it, to see the loyalty. He realized that none of the bad things he'd heard about Sheppard had ever been uttered by anyone under his command. They'd always come from brass looking in from the outside. Brass who had never walked in his combat boots, faced what he did, or had been forced to make the decisions he'd made. Decisions like shooting Sumner. Evan had always wondered about it, but the more he saw of Pegasus and especially the Wraith, the more he understood it. For a moment, he entertained a darkly humorous thought that the brass who were so quick to judge Sheppard maybe needed a little quality time with the Wraith to give them some perspective.
"You know," Sheppard's words recaptured Evan's attention. "McKay could be considered a risk on my team as well, but no one seems to object, except Rodney occasionally, but he objects to everything," Sheppard finished with a chuckle.
"Mc-Kay, s-sir?" Evan managed. His eyelids drooped but he forced them to open as he tried to follow Sheppard's thoughts.
"Yeah," Sheppard answered. "For one thing, he's an inexperienced civilian on a team that ends up in combat situations more often than not. He's argumentative, sometimes rash, and easily distracted, especially in life or death situations where the last thing you need is argument and distraction." Sheppard paused. "Off the record, Major, Elizabeth objected to me adding him to my team, but given our circumstances on Atlantis in the beginning, we didn't have much choice. We needed that super brain of his out there, not holed up in Atlantis."
Sheppard sighed. "McKay's proven himself enough times in a pinch that I don't question his place on my team anymore." Sheppard craned his head and leaned forward into Evan's line of sight. "And that's one more thing that, if you repeat to anyone, especially McKay, will get you on my shit list, Major." He smiled slightly.
Evan returned the smile. "Yes… sir." He considered Sheppard's words, using the thought process to stay conscious and calm as the water crept up his chest. Sheppard had a point with the analogy, but no one questioned McKay's place on his team. Sheppard had been right about McKay and he'd been right about Teyla, too. Evan figured he ought to trust his CO about Ronon as well. "I… I think I… see, sir," he answered truthfully.
"Good, Major," Sheppard answered. "And for future reference, if you ever have a concern like this, regardless of what it is, I want you to bring it to me. Understood?"
Without another word, he felt Sheppard's left hand cup his chin, holding it higher and out of the water, and still Evan found his CO's words to be an odd comfort, contrasted against that same water, creeping up his body. Here he was, facing what could be his death, and Sheppard was talking about his future as the military XO of Atlantis. That unwavering confidence in their survival bolstered him.
"Yes, s-sir," he responded, though he could hardly move his chin from Sheppard's grip. His gaze focused on the moving waterline on the jumper's windshield, the slow lapping of waves almost hypnotic. So when a figure abruptly appeared in his line of sight, he jumped, in spite of his lethargy.
"Ronon!" Sheppard shouted, his words clearing Evan's thoughts.
Peeking down from the top of the jumper and through the narrow slit of daylight on the windshield, Ronon was nearly upside down, his dreads hanging into the water. He pounded the windshield once before tapping his headset.
"Sheppard!"
Evan heard Ronon's voice over his headset and felt Sheppard's free hand leave his chest as the colonel reached for his headset.
"Good timing, big guy," Sheppard responded. "Lorne's injured and pinned and the water's rising. Gettin' us out of here double quick would be a good thing."
"Really? And here we thought we'd just sit back and have coffee first!" The unmistakable voice of McKay answered instead.
"Bitch at me only if you're working on a solution, McKay," Sheppard's voice hardened. "Otherwise, shut up and get us out of here."
"We're in a jumper just above you," McKay answered, unfazed. "We've been trying to raise you on the radio since we came through the gate."
"Jumper's dead," Sheppard answered, "no communications. You were probably out of range at first."
"There's structural damage along the bottom of the jumper." McKay continued. "Sensors say the jumper is half full of water. That's where your leak is coming from."
"Jumper's half full of water?" Sheppard's voice was sarcastic. "Really? I hadn't noticed. Well, mystery solved." His voice rose in urgency. "Now get us out of here. The water's rising pretty damned fast."
"Holy crap!" McKay's voice took on a note of panic, at least it sounded that way to Evan. "What the hell are those things?"
Sheppard's response was immediate. "If you're talking about the large fish things in the lake, I don't know, but they keep visiting us."
"Well, they just surfaced for air, so they're not fish…." McKay answered.
"McKay!" Ronon snapped.
"On it," McKay immediately answered, his voice even and focused.
Evan tried to concentrate on the conversation, but his thoughts drifted, and as hard as he tried to hang onto consciousness, it kept slipping from his grasp, just a little at a time.
"Lorne?" Sheppard's voice was accompanied by a gentle shake. "Lorne!" He shook harder.
Evan peeled his eyes open and groaned, though he half knew it was barely audible. He tried to form words, but all that he managed was another light groan. His mind was muddled and he was all of a sudden strangely warm as his shivering ceased.
"Damn it, McKay," Sheppard barked, "whatever you're going do, get to it! We're on a clock here!"
Evan felt Sheppard shake him again. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? He was so tired and just wanted to sleep. Sleep was a good thing….
"Lorne! Don't you check out on me!" Sheppard hissed so close to his ear that Evan could feel his warm breath.
Evan forced sleep away. "Sssssirrr…." he managed.
"That's better," Sheppard answered. "Stay with me here."
Evan could feel the water lapping at the bottom of his chin, still cradled by Sheppard's hand, but he wasn't scared. In fact, he didn't really care, and somewhere in the back of his head, he instinctively knew that was a very bad thing.
"Ellen Brody, huh?"
Sheppard's voice pierced the darkness in Evan's mind and acted as a lifeline, holding him to consciousness.
"Never pegged you as the 'girl next door' kind of guy." He gently shook Evan again. "Huh?"
Evan thought he heard a hitch in Sheppard's voice and possibly felt the colonel shivering against him, but he wasn't sure. "Looks… not… evry… thng…." he managed.
"No." Sheppard's voice could've been slightly melancholy, but Evan wasn't sure. "They're definitely not."
"Sheppard, hang onto something." McKay interrupted the conversation, though his voice sounded distant to Evan, even over a radio. "Ronon managed to secure lines to the drive pods and we're going to try to pull you into shallower water so we can get the back hatch open. It's faster than trying to cut a hole in the top…. If it works."
"What do you mean if it works?" Sheppard questioned.
"They're drive pods," McKay sounded exasperated. "We have no idea if they can take the weight of a jumper that's half full of water!"
Evan felt Sheppard lean forward, lifting them both higher out of the water that still splashed against his chin.
"They'll hold," Sheppard answered confidently. "Do it. We don't have time for anything else."
Evan clung to lucidity. If they started shifting the jumper around and it didn't work, if the lines broke, or the drive pods couldn't take the weight, the movement could send them over the edge and into deeper water.
"You do, sssir…."
He felt Sheppard stiffen behind him but it took the colonel a long moment to speak.
"No. Neither of us does." Sheppard's tone was blunt. "I'm not doin' a damned thing that isn't going to get you out of here alive too, Major. And that includes waiting for a safer option."
Sheppard's voice held a note of finality that Evan could hear, even in his barely conscious state. He shook his head, coughing as the jumper lurched and waves of water splashed over his head.
"Lorne!"
He felt Sheppard push him as high as he could, trying to keep them both out of the water as the jumper slowly slid backwards.
Evan coughed, spitting water, the cold splashes against his face ironically making him more alert.
"Hang on, Major! We're almost out of this!" Sheppard shouted over the grinding sounds of the jumper sliding against the lake bottom.
Evan could feel Sheppard's arms shaking, but he held fast, keeping Evan's head out of the water. Finally, the jumper shuddered to a stop, the silence eerie in a way. Sunlight streamed through the windshield, warming his face.
"John?" Teyla spoke for the first time. "Are you and Major Lorne all right?"
"Here," Sheppard answered. "Get the damned door open. We gotta get Lorne back to Atlantis ASAP."
"I can't do anything from this end with no power," McKay butted into the conversation. "Not quickly anyway. Can you get to the manual release for the door?"
Evan could feel the water slowly receding, but it was still chest high. If Sheppard let him lean back in the seat, he'd be under water.
"Negative," Sheppard answered, apparently reaching the same conclusion.
"Aww, damn it!" McKay answered. "Stand by."
Evan took a deep breath, in spite of the protests of his ribs. "You can… ssir," he managed. "I can hold on… to… the c-console…."
Sheppard was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. "Are you sure? Tell me the truth, Lorne. We'll find another way if we have to."
Evan slowly lifted his hands and leaned forward, grabbing as high onto the console as he could, gripping the top edge of the controls. "S… sure, s-sir," he answered. Evan felt Sheppard slowly let go, testing to see if he was good to his word, and Evan held fast, finding the strength from somewhere deep inside and powering it with blunt determination. He felt the displacement of water as Sheppard stood and gripped Evan's shoulder.
"Hang onto that console, Major, that's an order. I won't be long." He tapped his headset. "You guys stand clear. There's a crap load of water that's about to come your direction."
Evan's arms shook but he held tight, refusing to yield. "Y-yes… sssir." Sheppard's hand left his shoulder and he heard the colonel slosh through the water before the sound of a big splash, as Sheppard likely submerged to reach the manual release, situated under the seats on the pilot's side of the rear compartment. Almost immediately, he heard the whine of the back hatch opening and then another splash, followed by Sheppard's loud gasp.
"Son of a bitch, that's cold!"
In spite of his misery, Evan smiled as his grip slipped just a little. He drew in a quick breath, forcing his fingers to tighten, but he slipped again. Fatigue, injury, and shock all conspired against him as his hands faltered and he felt himself fall backwards towards the water, only to have his body jar to a stop as Sheppard caught him under the arms. The colonel gently lowered Evan back into the seat amidst the sound of rushing water that flowed out of the back of the jumper.
"Easy, Major, I got ya." Sheppard said quietly before his voice rose in tone. "We're gonna need something to pry back this console and free Lorne," he ordered.
To Evan, Sheppard's voice, which he had no doubt was loud and commanding, sounded distant and quiet. The ever-present buzzing in his ears grew in intensity as Evan's eyes fell shut.
"Major? Major! Stay awake! That's an order!"
No matter how much he wanted to reply to his CO and follow his command, Evan couldn't find the strength. He had a moment to hope Sheppard would understand before blackness took him.
The first thing that pierced the blackness in Evan's mind was warmth, and as his last memory of coldness flashed through his head, he relished this new found warmth. Breathing deeply, he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright overhead lights. For a moment, he was confused, expecting to see the murky darkness of the crashed jumper before he realized the lights shining down on him were the lights of Atlantis' infirmary.
"Thought you'd never wake up."
Evan slowly turned his head and felt the pull of an oxygen cannula on his nose. He focused his gaze on Sheppard's smiling face.
"Sir," he croaked. "How…."
"Got some equipment in there to free you," Sheppard interrupted, his smile fading. "Little touch and go for a while, but Beckett says you're gonna be fine."
Evan nodded weakly, never lifting his head from the pillow. He felt like he was floating and realized that, for all his injuries, he was surprisingly pain free. "No pain," he said softly.
Sheppard's smile returned. "Beckett's got a great stash of happy drugs. Probably gave you a few."
Evan blinked lazily, trying to pull his thoughts together. "Sounds like the voice of experience, sir," he answered, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice.
Sheppard's amusement faded again, if only slightly. "It is. Trust me, just lay there and be a good patient. Beckett's a tyrant otherwise."
"That definitely is the voice of experience," Beckett answered as he walked up to Evan's bed. "Though the colonel should be in a bed next to you with a concussion and mild hypothermia. Not that I could convince him of that." Beckett threw a mock glare Sheppard's direction but the colonel only shrugged in feigned innocence. Beckett looked down at Evan and smiled. "How ya feeling, lad?"
"Tired," Evan answered. It was the only word he could think of but it was accurate. He felt like he could sleep for days.
"Good," Beckett nodded. "Sleep's the best thing for you right now, anyway." His eyes passed over Evan's cast left leg. "Leg's a clean break. It'll heal just fine with some time, Major. Rest and do what I tell ye, and you'll be back on your feet soon enough."
Evan smiled lazily. "Thanks, Doc."
Beckett returned the smile. "Aye. You're welcome." He spared a quick look at Sheppard. "Don't stay too long. The major needs his rest and you could use some yourself."
Sheppard nodded. "Will do." He looked back at Evan as Beckett walked away. "Major. Now's probably not the time to talk about my expectations of you as XO, but we'll get to it. Hopefully before the next crisis." He stood and walked closer to Evan's bed and held his smile. "You've done good so far, so don't worry too much."
Evan looked back at him. They were good words to hear, since he'd been hoping but never knew for sure. He figured Sheppard would've said something if he had a problem with Evan's work, but it still was nice to hear. Evan thought back over their experience in the jumper and made a realization as Sheppard started walking away. "Sir?"
Sheppard stopped and turned back towards him, fixing Evan with a curious look. "Yeah?"
Evan smiled. "I… I think I know now what you expect of me as your XO, sir."
Slowly, Sheppard smiled and nodded as his expression turned into a cross between amusement and thoughtfulness. "Kinda thought you'd figured that out." He nodded once. "Get some rest, Lorne." Without another word, he turned and walked towards the exit.
Evan's eyes followed his CO until he disappeared out the infirmary exit. His thoughts drifted back over their ordeal in the jumper and he knew, without a doubt, that Sheppard's expectations were simple. Be there for each other regardless of the situation. Never leave a man behind. Be honest, frank if necessary, and don't hesitate to have those frank conversations with him if the situation warrants it. Respect the chain of command, but don't be a yes-man.
Evan smiled. For all the complexities he thought he saw, though carefully buried, in Sheppard, in some ways the colonel was pretty black and white. Evan's eyelids drooped. It was a pretty straightforward list of expectations, but one he was certain he could live with.
At ease with his realization, Evan let the healing power of sleep take over.