When the going gets Tough

Six weeks later

Major Evan Lorne sat at the back of the mess hall sipping his coffee. He had just finished having lunch with his team, who had all promptly disappeared after finishing their meals. Lorne had lingered hoping to put off the dreaded report writing just a while longer.

He spotted McKay walking into the mess hall, head down, shoulders hunched over, tapping away on his pc tablet. McKay paused long enough to snag the tablet under his arm, pile a tray full of food and then with food tray in one had and his tablet precariously perched over his other arm, held in place by his fingertips so that he could read it, walked towards the table at the end of the hall where Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon sat eating their lunch.

Lorne couldn't help but smile as McKay walked head down, food tray dipping dangerously low, frowning at whatever was on the tablet, towards his teams table as every other person in the mess stepped out of his way; it was like watching the parting of the Red Sea.

McKay reached the table, put the tray down and slide into the seat next to Sheppard; he picked up his fork and started to eat, all the while frowning at the tablet. Lorne saw Sheppard speak to McKay, who didn't respond, Sheppard then punched McKay in the arm, grabbing his attention. Words were exchanged and then McKay pushed the tablet away and started to interact with his team.

Lorne had thought that nothing in both known galaxies could surprise him after what he had witness at SGC and then on Atlantis, but the man that he had just watched walked across the mess hall had surprised the life out of him and impressed the hell out of him too.

McKay had shown up one morning, about six weeks ago, asking to join in the morning training session that Lorne ran. A mandatory requirement for all military personnel on Atlantis was a daily exercise session. Lorne had looked at McKay in shock. Granted the training session was tame to what the soldiers had gone through in their respective boot camps. However, there stood McKay saying he wanted to join in.

Lorne had agreed, he still didn't understand why he allowed it, but he had. He knew McKay would whine through the whole thing, but Lorne was confident that McKay wouldn't last long. And that's when he got his second surprise. McKay did everything the soldiers did. Star jumps, sit-ups, press-up, pull-ups, everything. Lorne had seen him struggle, but McKay didn't quit, he got further and further behind with each exercise, but never skipped anything he missed. He was still struggling with the pull-ups when the soldiers had finished their five mile run.

Lorne had figured it would end there. McKay had done well, but he was a total wreck, he was shaking from exhaustion, and his black t-shirt was soaked with sweat. But McKay asked the route of the five mile run and told Lorne he didn't need to stay if he had other duties. Lorne had taken it as a face saving excuse and agreed with McKay that he had other things to do, assuming McKay would forgo the run. McKay hadn't.

Practically everyday for the next six weeks McKay had turned up at 0500 hours for the training session, the first week he got slower and slower, but he never quit. Lorne had told him to quit, he was doing too much. But McKay's only reply was silence and he continued to turn up.

Lorne had despaired during the second week, McKay was obviously in pain, but not one word of complaint was uttered. Lorne truly believed that he would have to explain to Sheppard how he had allowed the chief scientist to drop dead from exhaustion. But McKay wouldn't quit. He had simply pointed out a flaw in Lorne's reasoning; every new recruit, in whatever branch of the military they found themselves in, had to do this and more on a daily basis to get them fit. Lorne had to acknowledge that McKay was right. This was Hell Week, or in McKay's case, Hell Week part II.

But by the third week, McKay started to improve and by the fourth week he was keeping up with the rest and impressing the hell out of not just Lorne, but the rest of the military contingent.

Lorne took a sip of his now cold coffee, watching Sheppard's team laugh. Yes, McKay had surprised him. He had always known that was something more to McKay then the arrogant, egotistical man he showed. Lorne had seen many of his comrade-in-arms build walls around themselves to protect themselves, to carry on getting the job done, to get through another day.

McKay's intelligence made you assume that he was privileged and had always been so, but Lorne didn't think so, he reckoned that McKay's genius status had been more of a curse then a blessing growing up. McKay had grown a hard outer shell to protect himself. Lorne knew Sheppard had seen it too, as had Teyla and Ronon and when McKay would inadvertently reveal a part of his true self, they had leapt on it, had nurtured it and encouraged it.

Sheppard was the only person, apart from the late Doctor Beckett, that Lorne had seen that could handle McKay. Sheppard knew when to stroke the ego, knew when to let McKay boast, but he also knew had to calm McKay, with a touch or a word, to keep him focused.

McKay was not the same person he had been when he first stepped foot on Atlantis, far from it and it nagged at Lorne that McKay had felt the need to compete with the soldiers, to be military fit. Sheppard would never have allowed McKay to stay on the team if he couldn't keep up. No, there was something else to it, something deeper.

He saw Sheppard's team push back their chairs, ready to go. McKay trotting round the other side of the table to help Teyla rise with an offered hand and a gentleman's bow. Teyla laughingly taking the hand.

The four walked out of the mess hall, McKay with Teyla's arm tucked through his, Sheppard and Ronon following somewhat sheepishly behind.

Lorne drained his cold coffee. No, the more he thought about it, the more something nagged and pulled at the back of his mind. McKay was fit and trim, still a little soft around the middle, but another few weeks and he would be showing off a fine set of abs, and he'd stopped hunching so much. Lorne had been surprised by McKay's actual height, he was taller then he looked. McKay always seemed to be hunched over something, the damn tablet that was always attached to his arm, some control panel, a laptop, a piece of Ancient technology.

Lorne walked out of the mess hall, his mind still searching for the elusive source of his nagging unease. McKay was walking down the hallway back towards the control room, the hallway was busy with personnel going to or coming back from lunch and that's when it hit him. As people walked down the hallway they greeted McKay, and McKay acknowledged every single greeting with a nod of his head and astonishingly, the person's name.

That's what had been so wrong. In the last six weeks McKay hadn't moaned or whined about anything during the training sessions, he just gritted his teeth and got on with it and he knew every single one of the soldier's names, first and last.

Lorne walked down the hallway towards his waiting paperwork, his gut clenching. McKay had dropped the arrogance, the sarcasm; he was making an effort to get to know people. Lorne didn't like it one little bit, because he knew, he knew without a doubt, that this wasn't the real McKay. This wasn't the McKay he had fought long and hard to be friends with.

This McKay smiled way too much, took time to remember your name, acknowledge your existence. This McKay was …. nice.

So why did it feel so wrong.