Chapter 4: Defend

Day two of their mission went just as well as day one ... until a single Wraith dart burst from the Gate and began culling the village. Lorne waded through the confusion, yelling for everyone to calm it down a little so that they could all get to the cover of nearby caves.

It had taken too long but eventually the people had fallen into line, gathering what they could carry and hurrying through the trees. The dart screamed overhead, its beam searching the ground for prey. They lost a group of villagers early on but Evan made himself ignore it and tried to believe that it was okay because he couldn't save everyone, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

And then the Wraith beamed down three drone warriors and the battle shifted from hiding lives to protecting them. "Reed, take Parish," Lorne shouted. "Head for the gate and call for reinforcements."

Reed reacted immediately, grabbing David's arm and dragging him away. Coughlin and Lorne put out covering fire, drawing the attention of the drones their way. They advanced in that mindless, insect fashion of theirs, impervious to their individual risk. Maybe that was because they weren't individuals, but just parts of the one whole hive. You break off a section it gets quickly replaced by another, like interchangeable pieces of Lego. To win you had to blow the crap out of the whole - difficult when in all likelihood the whole was a Wraith cruiser hovering in orbit.

To survive though all you had to do was release a hail of P90 fire ... the drones writhed and howled as the bullets pumped into them. It took too many to bring them down permanently and Evan wasn't surprised when the culling beam activated again only moments later, depositing more in the same spot.

"We hold them off as long as we can," he told Coughlin. Both men knew it would take Reed and Parish about half an hour even at full speed to get to the Gate. It was going to be tight.

"Yes Sir," Nate kept his focus ahead of him, trying to aim for the most vulnerable parts of the drones to minimise his ordinance usage.


"Major Lorne, report your status," the welcome voice of Colonel Sheppard came through their radios ahead of schedule only twenty minutes later.

"We're pinned down and taking heavy fire Sir," Lorne shouted, flinching when a shot from a Wraith stun gun got a little too close. "And we're low on ammo."

"How many?"

"Three drones in our immediate vicinity," Lorne reported, firing a short blast to keep one of them back from their position. "We take 'em out and they keep getting replaced."

"So there's probably a cruiser in orbit," Sheppard concluded.

"Yes Sir," Lorne ducked low. "We're just lucky they haven't resorted to blowing us off the planet from space. There's a short pause between drone rounds. Recommend you send a cloaked Jumper to pick us up Sir."

"Acknowledged," John returned. "Sit tight Major, we'll be there in a few minutes. We're keeping the channel open so keep us up to date."

"Yes Sir," Lorne exchanged a relieved look with Coughlin before they both refocussed on the enemy.

Lucky for them the Cruiser was still sending down the worker ants so to speak. If they'd sent down a hunter or worse, one of their hive leaders, Evan and Nate wouldn't have lasted anywhere near as long. Of course, he'd no sooner had the thought than the culling beam responded, dropping one unmasked Wraith hunter into the clearing.

"Crap," Lorne muttered, ducking low. Checking his ammo he grimaced. Half a magazine was nowhere near enough. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. You might want to hurry that Jumper ride - we've got a Wraith Hunter closing in and I don't like how the ammo mathematics is coming out."

Coughlin popped up from cover, firing a short blast that seemed to do nothing more than piss the Wraith off. It roared, surging forward. Lorne stood too, opening fire as well. It all happened fast. The Wraith grabbed Coughlin and literally threw him away. The way Nate slammed into the nearest tree, the sickening sound of cracking bones as he hit the ground had Evan frozen for a millisecond. Nate lay unmoving and there was no way Lorne was going to let the Wraith take back any ground they'd won by feeding on his team mate. With a yell he surged forward, firing the last of his ammo knowing it wasn't going to be enough.

The Wraith howled, stumbling before turning its attention solely on Lorne. That was what he'd been hoping for ... he was running when he hit the Wraith, using his P90 as a battering ram he took the Hunter down to the ground. The Wraith hit out at him, slicing sharply across his back and shoulders with its sword but Lorne's forward momentum and the way he'd surprised his foe made him unstoppable. Pulling his knife Evan slammed it straight through the Wraith's cold yellow eye, twisting it savagely. "Regenerate that!" he spat out, jumping off the dead Wraith and stumbling over to Nate.

"That's some serious moves you've got there Sir," Nate groaned out when Lorne dropped to his knees beside him.

"We can critique my performance later," Lorne returned, eyes tracking over his friend urgently. For sure he had a broken arm, probably the left leg as well, not to mention his ribs. He had a nasty cut across his forehead too and Evan quickly pulled bandages and gauze from his tac vest, applying first aid as best he could to stop the bleeding. "Atlantis," he radioed in. "Requesting urgent medical attention - Sergeant Coughlin's injured, I can't tell exactly how bad."

"And the Wraith?" Sheppard asked.

"Down for the count Sir," Evan returned. "They haven't sent another one ... yet."

"Major, is Sergeant Coughlin conscious?" Jennifer's voice sent something through him that could have been relief or hope.

"Yes," he replied. "He's got a nasty cut to the forehead and I'd say for sure a broken arm and leg as well."

"Does he have feeling in his lower extremities?" Jennifer asked.

"Ah -," he looked at Nate questioningly, getting a pained nod in reply. "Yes he does ... he's in a fair degree of pain here Doc. Should I give him something?" Their kit carried a small dose of morphine for emergencies.

"Hold off on that," Jennifer said briskly. "Don't move him either. I should be there in a second."

"What?" Lorne looked up suddenly, seeing the Jumper materialise in front of him. It was Colonel Sheppard - he landed the craft quickly and lowered the hatch. Jennifer ran out, dropping to Coughlin's other side. Lorne had thought he was talking to her back on Atlantis when she must have been in the Jumper the whole time. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"My job," Jennifer returned, her focus on Coughlin. Expertly she assessed his injuries, grabbing items from her field kit and quickly applying them. Compressed air casts for his arm and leg, a neck brace which she assured them was just a precautionary measure, and additional bandaging for his torso and head. "I need you to help me get him on a stretcher," she told Lorne when she was done. "Carefully - we don't want to put undue pressure on his back - just in case."

"Right," Lorne followed her instructions precisely, carefully slotting half the stretcher under Nate when she lifted him towards her and then pushing it forward when she did the same in the reverse. Ronon appeared as if by magic, helping Lorne to carry Coughlin to the waiting Jumper.

The sound of the dart screaming overhead just made them hurry even more. They had Nate secured when three more Hunters materialised where they'd just been working.

"McKay," Lorne snapped his fingers briskly, holding out his hand for the other mans weapon. Without protest Rodney unclipped the P90 and handed it over. "And the clips," Lorne added, taking them and stuffing them into his vest.

"Evan!" Jennifer's voice stopped him from running out to follow Sheppard and Ronon.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Evan gestured to Nate.

"If we can get him back to Atlantis fast enough, yes," Jennifer replied. "Where are you going?" She demanded when he nodded and moved to leave the Jumper again.

"To make sure that happens," he said simply.

"You're injured!"" Jennifer jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling him around and putting a hand on his shoulder. At the resulting pain he suddenly remembered the Wraith's sword slashing him. He'd genuinely forgotten ... another case for the wonders of adrenalin.

"I'm fine," he told her firmly, taking her hand from his arm and squeezing it. "Take care of Nate," he added before breaking away. "McKay - fly this thing out of here," he ordered the scientist. "You can come back for us once the Doc has Coughlin safely back on Atlantis."

"But," McKay went to protest but something in Lorne's expression must have dissuaded him because he shut right up, moving quickly into the front section.

Evan didn't wait for more. Rushing out the back of the Jumper he ran for cover, firing his borrowed P-90 into the fray.

The Jumper rose a little into the air and then cloaked, rippling into nothingness. Lorne breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived. Ronon had taken down one of the Hunters but the other two were alive and still strong and they were out for blood.

It took a concerted effort and a bucket load of bullets to bring the others down. This time the Wraith dart didn't reappear. Three rapid laser shots fired from the Wraith cruiser in orbit hit the trees a few paces away, sending up plumes of dirt and shaking the ground. Presumably the Wraith either falsely determined they were dead or wrote them off as not worth the effort of exterminating because nothing else happened. The forest went silent but for the sounds of three men breathing harshly.

"That was too close," Sheppard murmured, eyes still on the burning tree stumps that used to be 30 foot high trees.

"That it was Sir," Lorne returned, his feet not wanting to move from their safe position.

"This yours?" Ronon nudged the body of the first Wraith Hunter Lorne had taken down, his knife sticking grotesquely from its eye socket.

"Yeah," Lorne dropped to the ground, leaning forward and dropping his head onto his raised knees.

"Nice," Ronon complimented him.

"Lucky he came down here alone or I would have been shit out of knives," Lorne quipped back, earning a tired laugh from Sheppard.

"You sent the Jumper away?" he queried.

"Yes Sir," Lorne replied. "Had to - Je - Doctor Keller said the quicker she got Coughlin back to the gate the better his chances were."

"He'll be fine Major," John swallowed back his amusement at Lorne's stopping himself from calling the Doc by her first name. Had he forgotten it was John who'd seen them playing tonsil hockey the previous morning?

"Here," Ronon stopped by Lorne's feet, holding out the knife he'd wiped clean.

"Thanks," Lorne said tiredly, taking the knife and stowing it back in its holder.

"So, what's with you and Keller?" Ronon asked out of the blue.

"What?" Lorne shot John a look and got a shake of the head in return. He hadn't mentioned anything.

"Jacobs said she kissed you in the Gateroom yesterday," Ronon offered.

"You listen to gossip?" Evan wasn't sure why that fact surprised him so much.

"No," Ronon returned. "Sounded like fact to me. Is that wrong?"

"Yes ... no ... not exactly," Lorne sat up a little, wincing when his back brushed against the trunk as he rested his head back against the tree. "When's McKay gonna bring that Jumper back?" he complained, looking up at the sky.

"Not soon enough," John said with a chuckle. "You might as well cave Evan - Ronon never lets go once he's got a hold of something."

"Fine," Lorne shot a glare at his CO and then another one at the Satedan currently making his life miserable. "Jennifer did kiss me - on the check - but it was a platonic gesture okay, nothing more."

"She never kisses me before a mission," John murmured, getting a grin from Ronon.

"Well I'll be sure to tell her when it's your birthday next time so she can rectify that Sir," Lorne grumbled.

"Wait ... it was your birthday yesterday?" It was John's turn to be surprised. Sure, he knew Lorne had birthdays - everyone did. He just couldn't recall ever noticing before - although he hadn't exactly noticed this time either.

"Yes Sir," Evan gritted his teeth, looking back to the sky again. "Come on McKay!" he thought irritably, sure the scientist was taking his time just to piss Lorne off.

"And that would make you ...," Sheppard left it open for a response.

"A year older Sir," Lorne looked at his CO blandly, waiting for some kind of come back.

"I'd say irritated, wouldn't you Ronon?" John didn't disappoint.

"He doesn't look any different to me," Ronon shrugged.

"Thank you," Lorne said emphatically. "Now can we please talk about something other than my nonexistent romance with Doctor Keller?"

"What, you don't think she's good enough for ya?" Sheppard narrowed his eyes at Lorne warningly.

"What - no! I mean yes!" Lorne ran his hands through his hair in frustration, only the fact that he'd had it cut down to millimetres stopping it from sticking up every which way. "Of course she'd good enough - for anyone! We're just ... we're friends okay."

"That's not how it looked from where I was standing yesterday," John said seriously.

Lorne wasn't sure what he would have said back because finally McKay got his timing right, landing the uncloaking Jumper down in front of them.

"Did someone call for a taxi?" he called out once the rear hatch was down.


Lorne's team was waiting for him when he strode down the rear hatch once the Jumper was back in the bay on Atlantis.

"Nate?" he demanded, continuing to walk as Parish and Reed fell into step beside him. Maybe he should have waited for orders from Colonel Sheppard but the other man knew what it was like to have a team mate down. He'd understand the urgency to find out how bad it was.

"He's in surgery," Dan Reed replied. His face was a little pale and he had an edginess about him that said the situation was still serious.

"He's banged up pretty bad," Dave Parish added, "but Doctor Keller took a moment a few minutes ago to tell us he was doing okay. She wanted you to report there the minute you get back." The botanist looked at Lorne's tattered shirt, the shoulder flapping enough that he could see the wounds underneath. "You should get that seen to."

"I will, once I've checked in on Coughlin," Lorne replied.

They made a grim party striding down the corridor to the infirmary. It was Jillian Harper who saw them first.

"He's still in surgery," she told Evan, looking at his pale, blood splattered face with concern.

"How long?" Lorne asked.

"Probably a while yet," Jill admitted. "Doctor Keller had to put pins in his arm and leg and in one of his ribs too. It punctured a lung so that complicated things ...plus he had a puncture wound in his side - must have landed on something sharp. She's fixing that now so ...," Jill trailed off.

"We'll wait," Lorne decided, folding his arms over his chest as though daring her to protest.

"Good - then we can clean you up, see what you've done to yourself," Jill smiled at his suddenly uncomfortable expression. Doctor Keller had told her the previous week that for the time being Evan was her patient exclusively. She'd been curious but wouldn't be a very good friend if she tried to pry into his privacy.

"Most of this isn't mine," he told her defensively.

"Then go take a shower and come back here when you're done," Jill advised.

Lorne exchanged glances with Reed and Parish and then nodded. "Let me know if you hear anything," he told them. "I'll be back soon."

"Yes Sir," they said, sitting in the 'waiting' area just outside surgery.


The shower spray hitting his back was painful but in a cathartic way. Every muscle in his body ached so getting his vest and shirt off in the first place had been an exercise in pain management. As he watched the blood - Wraith and human - swirling around and then disappearing down the drain, he tried to reconcile his thoughts.

He'd almost lost Coughlin today ... and that was too close to home. Not just because the safety of his team was his responsibility. They'd gotten under his skin - three guys who were pains in the ass half the time and had him swallowing back his laughter the rest. They were friends as well as being team mates and on top of the weight of loss he already carried, even the close call had Evan teetering on the edge of control. Resting his forearms against the shower wall, Evan leaned in, letting the water pound the back of his head and neck. The slices the Wraith sword had carved out on his upper shoulders stung - like vinegar in a paper cut - but he almost welcomed the distraction. Deal with the physical pain so you didn't have to deal with the emotional stuff. Yeah, he was all about that. Usually ... except for lately when his coping mechanisms just weren't working. He couldn't shut off his brain, couldn't compartmentalise the job like he used to. The result was that he didn't feel entirely like himself ... wasn't acting it either if that scene with Jennifer the prior morning could be considered evidence.

Slamming the wall with his fist, Evan growled in frustration before roughly turning the water off. Grabbing a towel he quickly dried off, leaving blood streaks all over the fabric. "Damn it," he cursed, realising he wasn't going to be able to doctor himself, nor put anything on that he didn't want stained with his own blood. And Jennifer was still in surgery so he'd have to go to the infirmary for treatment - he was feeling grumpy and tired and plain pissed off enough that he seriously considered forgoing the experience.

Wrapping the already ruined towel around his shoulders, he pulled on pants and then sat to put his socks and boots on.

At the sound of the door chime he closed his eyes wearily, wondering what next. Getting up he swiped the door open. "Jennifer!" he stepped back in surprise, leaving room for her to push past him, carrying her medical kit. "Is Coughlin -?"

"He's in recovery," Jennifer said briskly, dumping her kit on his bed and opening it purposefully. "Turn around," she told him firmly.

"So he'll be okay?" Lorne persisted, staying where he was.

"He should make a complete return to duty within a couple of months," Jennifer raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next move.

"Is he awake? When can I go and talk to him?"

"Evan!" Jennifer almost stomped her foot. "Sit down. You're not going anywhere until I've attended to your injuries. And don't try and tell me you're fine - I can see the blood on that towel from over here!"

"You're angry?" Evan was surprised to realise she was more than that - she was boiling mad at him and not bothering to hide it. He sat down cautiously on the bed, holding himself stiffly as she peeled the towel away and then sucked in a quick breath.

"These are deep enough to need stitches," she said accusingly, her movements emphatic and purposeful as she got out the tools she'd need. "At least you had sense enough to thoroughly clean them."

"You're acting like this was my fault Jennifer," Evan flinched as cold antiseptic was applied to his right shoulder. "I didn't invite that Wraith to play tic-tac-toe on my back you know."

"No, but you went back out there instead of coming back to Atlantis like you should have," Jennifer shot back. "Now be quiet so I can concentrate."

He pursed his lips together, struggling to show no reaction as she carefully stitched each wound ... four cuts deep enough for about 20 stitches each along with others that had just broken the skin and only required bandaging.

When she was done he moved to pull on a loose shirt while she cleaned up.

"I get it you know," she said, still looking down at her things .... the tools of her trade just as P90's and C4 and tac vests were the tools of his. "You don't want to lose anyone else so you'll just throw yourself right in there, no matter the risk to your own life."

"It's not like that!" Evan protested.

"Really?" Jennifer demanded. "So what Ronon said about you tackling a Wraith to the ground and killing him with just a knife wasn't true?"

"He shouldn't have told you about that," Lorne muttered.

"He didn't!" Jennifer folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "He told Reed and Doctor Parish - thought it was cool. So did they by the way."

"I had to do something Jennifer," Evan shot back. "I couldn't let Nate die. He was down and that Wraith would have fed on him long before I could have gone for help."

"You weren't joking when you said you'd rather it was you who had died, instead of Carson, were you?" Jennifer's voice was suddenly thick with emotion.

"We're not talking about this now," Evan turned away, looking for his ear piece. He could feel emotions - too strong - crowding to the surface. He had to get out of there before he added to the things he regretted doing the past few weeks.

"You promised me you'd talk to someone but you haven't, have you?!" Jennifer grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her.

"Because there's nothing to say!" Evan shouted. "Carson died. Elizabeth died. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Nate almost died today too. If he had and if I'd left that planet thinking I could have done something when I didn't it would have eaten me alive." He laughed harshly. "Besides, what's the point in talking about what just is?! People die - they get replaced and then they get forgotten. You of all people should know that. You expose yourself to the risks and eventually someone has to pay the bills."

"Oh, Evan," Jennifer put a shaking hand to his face, her eyes pleading with him to listen. He didn't see it – that no one was forgotten because he remembered. "How can you keep so much emotion bottled up inside?"

He pulled away, going to stand by the window, eyes on rough seas he wasn't really seeing.

"No," Jennifer continued, moving to stand beside him, her eyes on his expression. "There was nothing you or anyone else could have done to save Carson or Elizabeth and that's something we all have to live with. There's no shame in being upset about that ... in grieving. You don't have to do this alone."

It was the wrong thing to say - she only realised it when his face shut down, his eyes going flat. "I'm happy with the way things are," he said bluntly. "And I'm not looking to change that. But you were right about one thing. Avoiding the infirmary because Carson used to work there is stupid. So you don't need to make any more house calls Doctor - I can take my treatments in the infirmary just like everyone else."

His words hit her hard. "You don't mean that," Jennifer swallowed back her tears, searching his face for some kind of sign that he was open to her. But there was nothing.

"I'm sorry," Lorne said simply. "I can't afford to let myself get distracted ... people are counting on me and I couldn't live with myself if I let them down. This isn't me Jennifer," he said simply gesturing vaguely in the space between them.

"Evan ...," she wanted to ask him about her. She'd been counting on him too, if for nothing more than to be her friend. A tear fell from her eyes and she let it roll silently down her face to drop unnoticed onto her t-shirt.

"Go ... please," he ground out, turning away abruptly, his arms folded across his chest. And God, the cruelty in that sat so poorly on his shoulders he almost called her back to apologise ... almost. He would have if he didn't believe that he just wasn't fit to be around.

Sniffing, Jennifer quickly grabbed her bags and stumbled out into the corridor, his door swishing closed behind her. Standing for a moment she took a few deep breaths, trying to find her calm. And then she straightened and resolutely began walking to the infirmary. It was her domain and she understood how things worked there.

Authors Note:

I wasn't sure about this story when I wrote it and I'm even less sure now ... I'm thinking it's pretty terrible actually - my attempt to write an angsty troubled Lorne, that is. I don't think it's salvagable for anything else though so rather than delete it I'll just quickly post the remainder because even for a bad story I'd hate to leave anyone hanging. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter - it's 4:30am here so I hope you'll all forgive me for not replying personally this time. Apologises for any errors that have remained - I didn't edit it as much as usual, for reasons already stated.