Anamorphosis

Disclaimer: This is a fan production. I have no association with any of the folks or companies involved in producing 'Stargate: Atlantis' and I am making no profit off this bit of scribbling. I do, however, admire their work.

Have a nice weekend!

Anamorphosis

Part Four

On the third morning, the bite mark had turned into an ugly green and yellow bruise and Lorne was sick of hiding in his room. Beckett had checked in with him over the radio twice but hadn't forced him back to the infirmary, and Sheppard was expecting him to discuss duty-hours.

He couldn't hide in his rooms forever. He'd end up pulling something suitably Van Gogh and really cement his reputation as a weekend artist.

Despite its oddities and temperamental oddballs, Atlantis didn't have any mad recluses.

So Lorne got dressed in his uniform, changed his mind, and dressed again in high-necked civvies. Then he realized he was going to have to requisition new boots. bastards still had his shoes – of course. Breaking in a new pair was not going to be fun.

It was absurd. The whole thing was freaking absurd.

At least he had socks this time.

So. The first thing on his list was requisitions. He was not going to talk to Sheppard in his socks. Then he could get the humiliation of facing the man over with and figure out where to go next. Somewhere in there, breakfast would be a good idea. There was only so much Ramon noodles could do for a body and he was dying for some caffeine.

Actually, the caffeine would go a long way to holding his spine up. Lorne decided to swing by the canteen then requisition the boots.

It was late enough in the morning that first shift was already on duty and Lorne didn't pass anybody in the hallway. Then he jinxed himself by hoping his luck would hold.

"Major Lorne!" Airman Kylie Jones hollered across the cafeteria.

Lorne liked Kylie. She was exuberant and fun and she flirted with everyone. When she wasn't toting a rocket launcher, Kylie was harmless.

Lorne cringed.

"Major!" Kylie shouted again, and waved at him like her hair was on fire. "I'm glad to see you."

Well, there went his plan to sneak in and sneak out. Everybody had turned to look at him.

"Hi," Lorne fished up a smirk and sidled into the room. "Miss me?"

"Yes, sir!" Kylie chirruped, dimples in full effect. They dimmed as her eyes tracked over the bruise on his face. Her voice wavered then grew even more syrupy. "We had Oreo fudge-bars for desert the night before last, and cranberry rice pudding last night, and tonight we're going to have banana splits. I've saved one of each for you. Do you want an Oreo fudge-bar for breakfast?"

Lorne tried for normal. "Is that standard military fare?"

"Absolutely not, sir. But that only means it'll taste better."

Lorne forced a chuckle. "Thank you, Airman Jones. But I think I'll stick with eggs for now. Can you do that?"

"Fresh from the mainland. They're even yellow this time." Kylie found him a warm plate and began dishing up breakfast. "Um, Major Lorne?"

"Yes?"

Kylie blushed and focused on the eggs like they held the answer to life. "I heard the last mission got a little rough. Um, I just wanted to tell you I'm glad you made it back. Everybody's glad to have you back."

Lorne sucked in startled breath. For some reason, he hadn't expected anybody to actually say anything. Stupid. He should have been ready. "It was just a follow up." Lorne deflected.

"Yes, sir." Kylie passed him the plate and despite the strawberry stain across her cheeks, she raised her chin determinedly and looked Lorne in the eye. "But sometimes shit happens. Sir."

The bottom dropped out of Lorne's stomach and something oily and shamed welled up in its place. Lorne ducked away, making a retreat before his conscious mind could even decide how to respond. "Ain't that the truth," he said, and hoped he was the only one who could hear how false the humour in his voice was.

And when he turned around, he was facing the entire cafeteria.

Paranoia, Lorne told himself. He wasn't different. He was reading things into what Kylie said that she didn't mean. It was all in his head.

Right.

He found an empty table against the wall and plunked his tray down. He looked at his yellow eggs.

You're being an idiot, the sarcastic voice at the back of his head said. His stomach churned and the eggs suddenly looked congealed and unappealing.

Fox slammed his tray down on the table next to Lorne's and Lorne absolutely, positively did not jump. Fox pulled his chair out with an almighty screech and hunched over his tray like he was a prisoner in a max-security prison and there wasn't enough food to go around.

"Hey," Fox mumbled, and shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth.

Fox had been on Lorne's team for the shortest amount of time. Lorne had recruited him after they lost Marjorie to a freaking cave-in – thank God it wasn't the wraith – eight months earlier. Privately, Lorne liked to consider Fox his own, personal Ronan: Fox was just about as loquacious. Except that Fox was short, and square, and looked like a marine's marine. Yeah. The comparison wasn't really holding up.

"Hey," Lorne retuned. They sat and Lorne watched Fox eat for a bit. He felt the muscles in his back start to unknot. It was nice to sit here with a team member and not be expected to...be anything.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Lorne's heart nearly stopped. He reached for his side arm but, of course, it wasn't there.

Chatterton hauled Fox out of his seat by the collar of his shirt. "What the fuck..." He hissed, and shook the man.

Lorne had never seen Chatterton angry before. Chatterton was a practical jokester, with five sisters and two brothers back on Earth and a bucket load of stories that never failed to get a laugh out of anyone. He carried a picture of his father for luck and everything washed off him like water off a duck.

The table shook with the force of Fox's body being slammed against it and Lorne's plate of uneaten eggs hit the floor with a shattering crash.

"Break it up!" Lorne bellowed, but Fox swung at Chatterton and then his two team mates were brawling in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Stop, now! That's an order!" Lorne shouted again, but the two men weren't hearing him.

"You unmitigated dick!" Chatterton snarled, and Fox sneered something incoherent and spittle strewn in return. Lorne waded into the mess.

The damnable thing was his marines actually knew how to fight. Lorne wasn't going to be able to break this up on his own.

An elbow caught him a glancing blow across the cheek. It hurt – it stung like a bitch and for a moment the world went grey at the edges.

Then Lorne got angry.

The grey was washed away by red – literally. Never in his life had Lorne ever 'seen red', but at that very moment red was all he could see. He laid into his men like they were the enemy and his life depended on it.

Then there were arms around his chest and he was being hauled backwards and he struggled but too many hands were pressing him down to the ground.

He heaved against them, fought and twisted and cursed, until suddenly the fight just bled out of him. No matter how he told himself to move, his body went limp and all the fury washed away. Lorne lay against the mess hall floor and panted. Tears pricked his eyes. He swallowed hard and blinked until they went away.

"You done?" A voice said quietly in his ear, and the arms around his torso tightened.

"Yeah." Lorne conceded, and the man helped him to his feet. It was Sergeant Bates.

His team had been brawling in the cafeteria and Atlantis Security had been called to break it up.

That was just...wonderful. Really fabulous. Class A, in fact.

God.

"Good. Let's take a walk."

So they walked. Bates' crew paced Chatterton and Fox a respectful distance back from Bates and Lorne. The whole group of them marched through Atlantis without a word. Lorne felt a little like he was going to an execution.

Bates had an office that was unusually utilitarian and boxy.

"Take a seat, Major." Bates gestured to a bench beside a potted plant along the far wall. "Your man and I are just going to have a little talk." So Lorne sat, like a chastened school boy, and Fox and Chatterton followed Bated into the office. A moment later, the glass fogged and Lorne couldn't see them anymore.

Bates' men filed out of the office without looking at Lorne and Lorne was left to his own devices.