A/N: Obviously more Lorne-whump. So, here's another example of what happens when Lorne gets his way. As before, this is an AU that absolutely happened somewhere in some universe. Because he said it did.

Unfortunately, this one started very simple and short, and then grew rather monstrous. I feel like it's almost too long for a one-shot; but I couldn't really find any good chapter breaks, either. Besides, it's an AU I feel belongs in this mixed category.

Enjoy!


Lorne felt the moon beginning to skim the upper atmosphere. They were out of time.

Damn, the Colonel's not going to like this, he thought to himself.

"Are you going to be able to get her out of there, or not?" Sheppard asked McKay, as if already knowing the answer and not liking it one bit.

"I have no idea how to determine who's who in this thing," McKay shot back. "Look, maybe if I had a few hours…"

"Well, you don't!" Sheppard snapped.

"Yes, I know that!" Rodney snapped back. "But short of randomly beaming people out one by one…"

"There's a thousand people in this thing!"

"I am aware of that!"

At that moment the whole moon shook violently. Lorne's lips thinned to a fine line. This conversation could go on until they all burned up in the atmosphere, but it wouldn't solve anything. "It's time to go, sir," Lorne called, hoping to verbally knock some sense into them.

"Just give us a minute!" Sheppard demanded, ready to go back to his argument with McKay.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have a minute," Lorne snapped. "As soon as this rock hits the atmosphere, it's going to start to break up. We have to go now."

Sheppard was silent for all of a second. Obviously he'd come up with something. "Alright, can you get this thing disconnected?" he asked McKay.

"Yes, but I've already told you, there's no way I can rig up a compatible power source for the Jumper."

"I'm not talking about the Jumper."

"What?"

"I've always wanted to fly a space shuttle. Now's my chance."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…"

Having made up his mind, there was nothing else to discuss. Lorne watched in wide-eyed shock at what his heroically insane commanding officer was proposing. It was nothing short of outright suicide.

"Just get this thing disconnected and help these guys get to the Jumper while I suit up."

Rodney, still thinking he could talk his friend out of suicide, tried yet again. "Look, I know how much you love to think you can fly anything, but it is not as—"

"Listen! Just get the thing disconnected! That's an order!" Sheppard yelled one last time before heading to the Jumper for another EVA suit.

Major Lorne clenched his fists as he stared at Doctor McKay's back, having watched the whole exchange. He knew his CO well enough by now to know that the man knew he likely wasn't going to survive, but was damn well going to do it anyway; because it just might save Teyla. A second later a terrified but determined McKay turned around and came back, brushing past Lorne roughly. A second after that Lorne had his own plan set as McKay started barking orders for those physically capable of assisting.

Minutes later the Major was pulling the storage device along the corridors toward the shuttle while Rodney and Ronon pushed.

"This is crazy," Lorne called out to the other two. "That thing is how many hundreds of years old? And it's out of fuel."

"The man said he could fly it," Ronon responded making Lorne laugh nervously.

Meanwhile Carson was finishing up with getting Colonel Sheppard suited up just down the hall. Carson's lips had thinned to a nearly invisible line as he tried to bite his tongue. "You do realize you're out of your bloody mind, right?"

"Yeah, probably," Sheppard muttered, doing some final checks on his suit.

Just down the corridor Lorne, Ronon, and McKay got the storage unit to the shuttle doors. Ronon and McKay turned around to come back toward Sheppard. Seeing his opening, Lorne kept pulling the storage device into the shuttle. He very nearly lost his footing and got run over by the damn thing as the entire moon shook violently yet again. By this point he was trembling in his suit. Forcing himself to calm as he had learned during basic training, he kept pulling.

"Alright, you're all set," McKay told Sheppard. "Once you're inside the shuttle it should be fairly easy to get the device into the receptacle."

"Alright, let's do it," Sheppard said, putting on his helmet.

"Just, can I say one more thing?" McKay asked, stopping Sheppard.

"As long as you say it as fast as you can," Sheppard said, staring down the two of them blocking the perpendicular corridor that connected to the shuttle.

"Don't do this. It's impossible," Rodney practically begged.

~o~o~o~

"Willing to bet a week's wages on that?" Lorne grinned hearing this over the radio as it came through Sheppard's helmet mic.

"Thanks for caring," Lorne heard next, just imagining what Doctor McKay's response had been.

"Alright, radio Atlantis as soon as you're clear," Colonel Sheppard got back to giving orders. "Keep a safe distance with the Jumper. I'll try to maintain radio contact."

Major Lorne listened, knowing he was out of time and about to be discovered. Having sealed both doors and locked the inner one, he knew he was safe. But he still had to hurry to get the storage unit connected to the shuttle's power as McKay had instructed. There was silence for a moment.

"Major Lorne, what's your location?" Sheppard asked directly over the radio.

Already screwing the power cable on Lorne replied in a voice more calm than he felt, "I'm on the shuttle and just finished connecting the receptacle. The doors are sealed and locked. You better hurry up and get to the Jumper, sir."

"Major, what the hell are you doing?"

Turning around and heading for the cockpit at the front Lorne said, "Remember what we talked about when I first came to Atlantis?"

"Yeah," Sheppard said, warily.

"I warned you, then."

"Get your ass back here! That's an order!"

The moon gave another violent shake, throwing them all into the walls.

"No time to argue, sir," Lorne reminded, ricocheting off a wall. "If you're going to play it like that then, I resign my commission and post, effective immediately. I hand my command and team over to you, Colonel. Now get to the damn Jumper!"

~o~o~o~

Sheppard, already on his way to the Jumper looked like he could take Ronon at this point and win in his rage. They all piled into the Jumper and Sheppard jumped into the pilot's chair. Still ready to do murder, he kept the radio open switching to the Jumper's speakers.

Never missing a beat in getting the Jumper powered up and out the doors, he said, "Damn it, Lorne. What the hell—"

Now in the ship's cockpit acquainting himself with the antiquated systems he cut off his former Colonel, "Sir, we're not leaving Teyla behind. But you're far more valuable to the Atlantis Expedition. I am—was—Second in Command, and expendable, by definition."

"The hell you are! We're clear!" Sheppard shouted back.

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you guys on the ground."

Sheppard ground his teeth already contemplating what he was going to do to the man if he survived.

"We're almost in the atmosphere," Doctor McKay cut in. "You've only for a few minutes to familiarize yourself with those controls."

"Already done," Lorne called back. "It's pretty straightforward."

"We're going to lose radio contact as we pass through the atmosphere."

"I know, Doctor McKay."

~o~o~o~

Lorne was surprised to find himself smiling at the annoying astrophysicist. Now committed to this course of action, he actually felt amazingly calm. But he knew that wouldn't last long.

~o~o~o~

"I'm saying that if you have anything you'd like to say, now would be a good time to say it."

Lorne couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doctor."

Sheppard kept his peace through this exchange, too busy with the Jumper to intervene. It was too late, anyway. Lorne was on his own.

"Getting some chop. Preparing to disengage."

"Hopefully the explosive bolts will throw him clear of the moon," McKay told them, pulling up the HUD to watch.

They watched as the little moon became a massive fireball as it entered the atmosphere.

"Initiating separation maneuver in three, two, one, mark!" Lorne called over the radio.

Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, and Beckett listened tensely as alarms went off in the cockpit on Lorne's end.

"Figures. Separation is negative. Switching to back-up."

The tension in the Jumper was thick enough to be felt. Even Beckett was clenching his fists. In the silence they all heard Lorne mumbling to himself.

"Disengage. Come on!"

This was followed by more alarms.

"Damn it!" Lorne said more loudly. "The bolts will not work. I repeat, the explosive bolts will not fire. Unable to separate ship. I don't know if you guys can hear me, but it looks like I'm going to have to ride this one down."

"What's happening?" Ronon asked.

"He can't separate the damn ship," Sheppard snapped. "He's going to burn up inside the moon."

The three could only watch the HUD as the moon began to break up. Seconds later the fireball quadrupled in size on the HUD as the moon exploded in all directions.

"Oh no…" McKay said, his eyes wide and his face pale in horror.

Suddenly there was a beep on the HUD as it caught sight of something larger in the debris field in the atmosphere. Sheppard smiled grimly, still hoping for a chance to tear into his XO afterward.

"There it is," Rodney called.

"That lucky son-of-a-bitch," Sheppard murmured.

Now they watched a second, much smaller fireball as it streaked across the sky. Sheppard could tell already that the angle of re-entry was far too steep. Not sure if the Major was even alive or conscious at this point he silently screamed at the man to adjust his angle.

~o~o~o~

Inside the shuttle cockpit, Lorne wished he could silence the symphony of alarms now going off. Focusing on the flaps, slats, ailerons, spoilers and elevators all run on hydraulics, he managed to get the shuttle out of its steep pitch. As it began to level off, he now had to worry about the speed. Manipulating the controls he had, he quickly found that there was no banking control. It didn't matter anyway. Without fuel this ancient tank was dropping like a rock. At best he could aim for the long desert he spotted and hope the terrain was smoother than it looked from above.

His heart racing, Lorne focused everything on keeping the shuttle upright. But the ground was closing far too fast. As the white sands of a daytime desert consumed his view of all but the flames dancing around the ship, he braced.

~o~o~o~

In the Jumper Sheppard followed close behind gritting his teeth. He knew there was no way for Lorne to really slow down the shuttle, but he mentally screamed it anyway. The silence in the Jumper as the four of them watched was thickened by the realization all over again that Lorne could not survive this. No inertial dampeners, and he was approaching the planet's surface at over two thousand miles per hour. Trained fighter pilot or not, the impact velocity was likely to kill him. Hoping for a miracle, Sheppard watched as the shuttle touched down.

And then it skipped back into the air and touched down again. And again, and again, growing slower with each impact. Sheppard smiled in pride at the Major's genius. Leave it to his second in command to find a way to slow without damaging the shuttle and its precious contents.

"Like a stone skipping over water!" McKay shouted excitedly, overcoming his initial confusion.

Still only a couple miles behind the shuttle as it came to a stop, Sheppard hurried toward a landing spot close by. "Colonel Sheppard to Major Lorne. What's your status?"

Silence.

"Lorne, this is Colonel Sheppard. Do you copy?"

Silence.

Back to clenching his jaw and glaring murderously, Sheppard set the Jumper down gently in the shadow of the shuttle ahead as the sand and dust were still settling. "Evan, do you copy?" Sheppard growled one last time leaving the pilot's seat.

Silence.

Turning to McKay Sheppard asked, "Can you tell if he's alive?"

"I'm trying. Just…wait"

Beckett's face was a reflection of McKay's as they both slumped in disappointment. For a minute, it almost seemed as if the crazy Major was going to pull it off. Ignoring them, Sheppard headed to the back. Opening the rear door he stormed out of the Jumper to take a visual accounting of the condition of the shuttle. The entire back section was ripped apart. A good quarter of the furthest rear section had obviously broken off when the moon had come apart.

"He's alive! The Jumper's detecting one life sign!" McKay called, too excited to bother with his radio.

Sheppard was still looking for a way to get into the rear when his radio crackled to life.

"This is M...Lorne. Colonel…Sheppard do…you copy?"

"Yeah, we're here, Major. Just sit tight, we're trying to find a way in," Sheppard replied, struggling to keep the relief out of his voice; he was still pissed.

"Is the shuttle intact?"

Confused for a moment, wondering why Lorne was asking, Sheppard replied, "Most of it. The rearmost section was torn off, but the rest looks good."

A shallow sigh of relief was heard through the radio, along with a short chuckle. "Doctor McKay, that's one week's pay you owe Colonel Sheppard."

"What?!" Rodney squawked right behind Sheppard making him jump.

"You heard me. If I can do it Sheppard…would have done…better…More style," Lorne told him with a grunt.

Sheppard grinned at this, the pride in his XO clear in his expression. But the smile was wiped off his face seconds later as Doctor Beckett keyed on his mic from where he was in the back of the Jumper.

"Major Lorne this is Doctor Beckett. What's the nature of your injuries?"

Sheppard froze, listening.

A light huff of laughter came over the radio followed by, "You don't miss…a thing do you…Doc?"

"No," Beckett replied sharply, not in the mood for banter. "You're breathing is labored and shallow. Chest injury. Restraining harness?"

For a moment there was just the sound of Lorne's breathing. "No, Doc. It's a bit…more complicated." There were a couple more breaths, followed by a deeper one, then. "A metal rod came through…the back of the seat. It's…penetrated my right chest…cavity, and out the front."

"My God," Beckett whispered, his mic off.

Sheppard's blood had run from cold to burning fury all in the space of a few seconds. He turned and ran back toward the Jumper. "Get back in the Jumper," he called to the others. "I've got an idea."

Powering up the Jumper, Sheppard listened as Beckett continued.

"How bad is the bleeding?" he asked, his face pale but controlled as he focused on listening to Lorne.

"I can't really tell…but I don't feel much…at all right now. Might just be…shock, right?" Lorne asked as if needing confirmation.

"Aye," Beckett replied, somewhat distracted with listening to the man's breathing for a moment. "But you sound pretty lucid, so far." Beckett closed his eyes silently praying the rod hadn't damaged the man's spinal column. "Major, you need to slow your breathing. Try to concentrate on deeper breaths, if you can."

Sheppard turned the Jumper and backed it up to the rear of the ship. The rear door of the Jumper now became a ramp as he settled the Jumper back on the ground.

"Sure, Doc," Lorne replied tiredly.

"Major!" Beckett snapped, grabbing about a dozen cases and throwing them at McKay and Sheppard. "Don't sleep! Focus on your breathing."

"Yeah, Doc, I'm here," Lorne called back after a moment. "But I might need someone…to keep me talking."

For a moment the three looked at each other, the silence drawing out.

"McKay, tell me about the exotic particle…problem you and your sister were…working on," Lorne said.

Still looking at each other, four sets of eyebrows went up at this.

"You were running into a problem with the exotic…particles creating a tear in the other universe…right?"

"Yeah, so?" McKay said, finally turning on his radio as he climbed up the ramp to the back of the ship staring at his tablet.

"What about reworking the bridge to…several universes simultaneously…minimizing the creation of exotic particles…in each?"

McKay, going over the schematics of the ship froze. "You've been spending way too much time with Zalenka," he finally muttered.

Again Lorne huffed a short laugh that turned into a grunt of pain. "Since being on Atlantis…I've spent too much time with a lot…of you guys. I got curious and started…learning a bit. It's interesting."

"I'm sure it is," Rodney mumbled. "Damn!"

"That doesn't sound too good, Rodney."

Turning to the others he held up his tablet, leaving his mic on. "The chamber with the storage device is intact, just up ahead. Beyond that, most of the section between that and Major Lorne has collapsed in on itself; probably during the initial impact. We're going to have to cut our way through to get to him."

"No worries, Doc...I'm not...going anywhere," Lorne told them in his typical dark humor, straining to take deeper breaths.

For a moment Sheppard, stared at the tablet. Finally he took it from McKay. "Rodney, take the Jumper to the gate. Radio Atlantis for more equipment—"

"I'll need some stuff, too," Beckett interrupted.

"And whatever he needs," Sheppard added. "Throw me the cutting torch, we're going to get started. Ronon, can you help with the lifting with your good arm?"

"Yeah."

"Good, Beckett, give McKay a list. Tell them to bring two Jumpers if they have to."

McKay hopped down the ramp and struggled to pull the torch and its case up to the ramp. Sheppard, lying flat at the edge of the ramp reached down to grab it with a grunt as he struggled to pull it back up. After a couple of deep breaths he rolled back to his feet.

"Wait here, Doc. I don't want anything falling on you," Sheppard told him.

For a moment Beckett looked like he was going to argue. Then Lorne's voice came back over the radio, having listened to all of this.

"Come on, Doc, tell me about your…last," brief coughing, "catch."

Frowning darkly at the sound of Lorne's coughing, but glad to note it wasn't a wet or heavy cough, Beckett keyed on his mic nodding to Sheppard and Ronon that he would stay put.

"You mean when I was on New Athos a few months back?" he said, distantly, already putting down a list of all the supplies and personnel he would be needing.

"Yeah."

Done with the list, Beckett turned his attention to his patient. "That was hardly worth mentioning. Total waste of time. Now M three X one two one, those were some winners."

"I've never been fishing before…How does that work, exactly?"

Already the sounds of Sheppard and Ronon moving stuff around deeper into the ship could be heard.

"Never been fishing?" Beckett asked, incredulously. "That's a shame. You don't know what you're missing."

"Well, Doc, I'm more inclined to paint the river…scene than to wade into it. I'm a city boy, remember?" Lorne confessed with no small amusement.

"Ye paint?" Beckett asked, surprised.

Lorne gave a grunt of pain followed a several very shallow breaths. "Yeah," he finally managed to get out.

"Major?" Beckett asked, when Lorne seemed to have stopped responding.

The sound of the cutting torch came from deeper in the shuttle.

"I'm here…Doc. Call me…Lorne, or Evan…" he mumbled something they couldn't make out. "Doesn't…matter now."

"Lorne, you need to slow your breathing. Concentrate," Carson warned again.

"Sorry…Doc…Starting to," he grunted in pain, "feel it…now."

"Hold tight, son, we're coming," he reassured the former Major silently screaming at Rodney to hurry up. "Right now, I want you to focus on my voice. Can you do that?"

"Yes…" Lorne was clearly panting, almost wheezing now.

"Good. I'm going to count, I need you to breath to the rhythm of my counting. Try to tune out everything but my voice. Can you do that, son?"

"You do…realize…that I'm…only maybe…a year…younger…right?" Lorne teased, trying to ease the tension, but his breathing had already more than alarmed Beckett.

"Aye, and if you want to see another birthday, you're going to shut up and listen now," Carson too worried to bother with further pleasantries.

~o~o~o~

In the cockpit, Lorne could hear the torch cutting away at something. He'd heard Sheppard and Ronon moving stuff around. They couldn't be that far away, so there was hope. But, at this point, he wasn't even sure what he was hoping for. The shock had worn off, and his head was clearing, but the right side of his chest was a mass of agony. The left side of his chest had taken to feeling heavy. It was getting harder to breathe.

Unable to move for the agony in his chest, he let his head lean back into the helmet, taking in the crystal clear blue sky above. Somewhere far away he wondered if that would be the last thing he saw. For a while his entire world narrowed to the doctor's soothing voice. Little by little, he was surprised to feel his breathing actually slowing, becoming slightly deeper. Beckett was right, he could breathe, when he focused.

"There, that's better," he heard Beckett say.

Not sure how long he'd been like that, he suddenly noticed the sound of other voices somewhere behind him in what he assumed was the crushed section.

"Thanks, doc," he said, not much above a whisper.

"Don't sleep!" Beckett snapped.

"I'm not," Lorne promised. "Just hurts to talk, anymore."

"Aye, I know, Evan. Hang in there," Beckett's voice had taken on a tight edge that bordered on panic.

And Lorne just couldn't bring himself to care.

~o~o~o~

Caught up in looking at the ship's schematics trying to find a way to get the Major some oxygen, he lost track of time for a minute. Seeing something he hadn't noticed earlier he smiled.

"Beckett to Sheppard."

"I'm here, Doc," Sheppard replied a moment later, as the sound of movement all around him signaled there were several men now working to get through to the front.

"Come to the rear. I need you in the Jumper."

"On my way."

"Bring the portable torch."

"Roger that. Sheppard out."

Grabbing one of his kits and checking it over to ensure it had all that was going to be needed, he slid down the makeshift ramp and into the Jumper. Not two minutes later Sheppard followed suit with the portable cutting torch right behind him.

"What's up?" Sheppard asked.

"Maj—Evan, can you see out the cockpit window?"

"Yeah."

The reply was so faint that Beckett's lips thinned to a white line for a moment. "Good. Hang in there just a bit longer, we're coming up topside with oxygen."

"Sure thing, Doc."

Turning to Colonel Sheppard, he showed him the schematics he'd just been viewing. "This is where Major Lorne is. You should be able to land a Jumper here," he pointed. "You might be able to cut a hole I the observation dome big enough for me to get him oxygen, at least."

Realizing what kind of delicate maneuvering it was going to take, Sheppard nodded understanding why the doctor hadn't bothered with Rodney or any of the others. "I can do it."

"Good," Beckett said his relief visible. "I'm ready when you are."

~o~o~o~

Lorne was so lost in focusing on his breathing, he almost forgot to stay awake. He was sure someone had been calling his name, but he just couldn't connect the dots anymore. He was so tired. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep was the constant flare of pain on the right side of his chest every time he tried to take a breath. Somewhere far away a couple of familiar voices were shouting at him. Suddenly a loud knock inches from his face brought his eyes open.

"Hey, Carson," he called, suppressing the urge to cough.

"That's better," Sheppard's voice came through the radio, popping up just behind Beckett. "Now be a good patient and listen to your doctor. He might even give you a sucker."

Seeing the pallor and tension in their faces, he could guess he'd probably at least dozed off and scared them pretty badly.

"Yes, sir," he said, with an attempt at a grin.

"Drop the formality, Evan," Sheppard called moving Carson aside so he could get to the dome's rim with the cutting torch.

With another half grin Lorne said, "Yes, sir," earning a glare from Sheppard just as he was putting on the safety glasses.

Setting torch to the metal Sheppard said, "So, I overheard you paint. What kind of stuff?"

Lorne thought for a moment, his oxygen starved brain trying to recall where that question had come from. "Oh, that," he said after a moment. "Scenery. Atlantis skylines lately."

"Any good?"

"Not really."

"Bet it works great with the ladies," Sheppard commented.

Lorne huffed a laugh, but didn't comment.

"I knew it. There had to be more than those dimples getting you all the attention. Doctor Cloudwalker's been stuck on you for months."

That got Lorne's attention. "Not likely."

Beyond the shower of sparks Lorne could see Sheppard smirking. "Yep. Figures you wouldn't notice since you're always making googly eyes as Doctor Dewar."

"Jealous much?" Lorne asked, not quite able to pull a smirk himself.

"Depends, are you going to teach me how to paint?"

"No."

"Then, yeah, a little."

Lorne huffed a laugh again, his face pulling into a grin for a moment. Sheppard was already halfway around the dome, now. He closed his eyes against the pain for a moment. When he next opened them, Doctor Beckett was peering through the glass.

"Stay awake, Maj-Evan," Carson demanded, correcting himself.

"I am," he snapped back, more angry that it came out barely above a whisper than the fact that the doctor kept having to remind him. Opening his eyes wide enough to convince Beckett, Lorne glared to be best of his ability. "Talk to me, Carson."

~o~o~o~

"Oh, well," Beckett stumbled, trying to refocus his attention away from trying to visually assess the damages. "How about family. You're from San Francisco, right?"

"Yeah. My mom and my sister still live there," Lorne replied his expression softening a little.

Still visually checking what he could and cursing the red space suit the man was in preventing him from seeing much of anything, he cast about in his mind for something else to say. "Sister? Any nieces or nephews?"

For a moment, Lorne's face lit up. "Yeah, two nephews."

Carson found himself shifting out of Sheppard's way as he moved back around toward the front. Silently blessing the man for his speed, Carson refocused on Lorne again. "And what are their names?"

"Alexander and Phillip," Lorne told him, struggling to keep a smile. "Four and six…They take after their mother…Little hellraisers."

Beckett smiled, seeing more animation in the Major than he had hoped.

"Really? And I supposed you were just a little saint," Sheppard added, still keeping up with the conversation.

"Only when I wasn't caught," Lorne gave back.

Carson chuckled. "Good, because you're too late. Saint Evan was a Scottish hermit in the Ninth Century."

Lorne visibly struggled to focus on Carson, feeling the pull of sleep again. "Catholic, Doc?"

"Aye."

Just then Sheppard turned off the torch. Leaning back he kicked a couple of times gently. When the dome didn't budge, he had Beckett get on the other side to keep it from slamming into Lorne's helmet. After a nod from Beckett, he reared back and kicked until he thought he glass would break. Finally the metal ring around the base of the dome gave way. Becket wasted no time in helping Sheppard lift it up and away.

The hole turned out to be a lot bigger than it looked. Coming back around to the front, he eyed the two feet of metal sticking out of the Major's chest. Carefully he dangled his legs over the edge and reached for Lorne's helmet. Once the helmet was removed, Lorne tilted his head back so Beckett could take off the CCA. Once that was clear, Evan gave a grateful shake of his head.

"Thanks," he said as Beckett reached into his kit for a portable oxygen tank and mask.

Behind him the sounds of moving metal and cutting could still be heard, but much louder now. For a couple of minutes Lorne just sucked in oxygen while focusing on his breathing. His dull expression began to become a bit more animated as he looked up at the two of them.

"Better now?" Beckett asked already knowing the answer.

Lorne just nodded, his eyes going from Beckett to Sheppard and back. Feeling as if his brain had just had a kick-start he asked them, "How did you get up here?"

"Jumper," Sheppard replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Lorne just nodded again letting that sink in. For a moment Beckett just looked into the Major's eyes trying to judge his lucidity. Seeming satisfied, he put the rubber band around the Major's head to hold the mask in place. Turning back to his kit he pulled out an Ancient scanner.

"I'm just going—"

Lorne's eyes suddenly went wide as he choked trying to scream.

"What is it?" Beckett started to ask.

Sheppard didn't need to ask. Only one thing would have done that. Reaching across Beckett he touched the end of the rod. Feeling it vibrating confirmed his suspicion. "Stop cutting! I repeat, stop whatever you're doing right now!" he shouted into his radio.

Instantly Lorne stopped struggling and went limp again. Beckett shoved Sheppard out of the way and reached for Lorne's neck. Before he could get there, though, the man had already started to lift his head. As Beckett tried to get his attention, the life just seemed to drain out of the man. Gently Beckett lifted his head up by the chin. By this point Lorne was struggling even to open his eyes.

"Sheppard, what's going on?" McKay's voice came over the radio.

Moving away from the two, Sheppard said, "Whatever you were just doing, it's vibrating the rod in Lorne's chest. Is there any way around it, Rodney?"

"Oh God," McKay said, clearly imagining the horror for himself. "Checking."

~o~o~o~

Lorne, clearly in too much pain to think anymore, was barely responsive now. Beckett could see him struggling to focus his eyes, struggling to keep his head up, struggling to breathe. The man was dying in front of him, and there was virtually nothing he could do. Snatching up the scanner, he ran it around the Major, his lips thinning with the results. Seeing the lines of pain and tension around the Major's sickeningly pale face, Beckett forced a smile.

"You're going to be fine, son," Carson tried to reassure.

Lorne's eyes flicked to where Sheppard was on his radio a few feet away. Knowing he wouldn't be overheard now that the CCA was off, he focused on Beckett. "Doc, I need you to do me a favor. On my bedside table is an envelope—"

"We're going to get you out of here," Beckett said.

Lorne's smile behind the oxygen mask along with those expressive blue eyes told Beckett what he thought of that. "Of course, you are," Evan said almost too softly to hear.

Carson struggled to keep what he hoped was a grin and not a grimace on his face. "Oh, so you're asking me to deliver love letters, then, are ye?"

"Just make sure Sheppard gets it, if I don't make it out of here alive. He'll know what to do."

Beckett dropped the grin. Glaring, he leaned forward until his face was inches from Lorne's. "You're getting out of here. Alive. Understand? A little time in the hospital wing, and you'll be good as new."

"Yes, sir," Lorne said, seeming more out of reflex than any conscious response now that he'd said what he needed.

"What did I tell you about that formality stuff, Evan?" Sheppard said coming back over and squatting next to the hole. None of them missed the stressing of the former Major's first name. "I'm not sure what you did, but quit pissing off Carson before he brings out the really big needles."

"I'll take the big needles right about now," Lorne slurred slightly, his eyes glazed and distant.

"Still coherent enough to be cheeky and piss off a doctor. Yep, you're going to be just fine," Sheppard said, now eyeballing something behind Lorne's seat.

"I'm sorry, Evan," Carson said the frustration clear on his face. "Anything I give you for the pain could further depress your respiratory system."

"I know, Doc. It's okay."

Like hell it is, Carson thought to himself, looking at the scanner results again. The Major had lost a lot of blood. He had hoped that the rod was acting like a cork. Amazingly no major arteries had been damaged by the half-inch thick rod. But blood had still been seeping out the back where the wound was somehow considerably bigger. Carson could only guess this was a result of having been jostled during the multiple impacts with the ground.

The downside was that the entire top lobe of the Major's right lung had been shredded both by the metal rod and the rib it had shattered. The bone shards had practically exploded into the soft tissues. A lobectomy was likely going to be required. Catching himself before he could sigh, he hoped the Major had been serious about resigning, because this likely would not bode well for his career in the military.

"That good, huh, Doc?" Lorne practically whispered, all strength seeming to have drained right out of him.

Cursing himself for his inability to better control his expressions, Carson did sigh, this time. He opened his mouth to say something but caught Sheppard glaring at him and shaking his head from behind Lorne. Swallowing what he was about to say, he came up with a different idea. "You're going to be on medical leave for a minimum two months. I hope you have plenty of painting supplies."

Lorne smiled, his dull blue eyes showing grim amusement. "Is that so?"

"This is Carson we're talking about. He can't lie," Sheppard said, clearly distracted as he spotted something.

Lying flat with his arms extended over the hole behind the seat, Sheppard reached down. When his hand brushed something causing a grunt of pain from Lorne, he smiled.

"Found it," he called.

"I can bloody well see that!" Carson snapped holding the Evan's head up and trying to get him to focus.

"Sorry, Evan," he apologized, patting the man's left shoulder gently. "You're not going to like this, but I've got an idea."

Somewhat recovered from the unexpected burst of pain, Evan blinked several times to clear his vision. "John...now that you're not my CO I can tell you: Don't do that again, or I'll kick your ass," Lorne threatened, half-heartedly.

"Well, suck it up, cause I found a way to get you out of here."

"Let me guess, cut from behind the seat?" Lorne asked, his head falling back to try to see Sheppard's grim expression. For a moment Evan's pale face pinched in fear. Recovering himself, he gave the Colonel a half-grin. "Let's make a deal, then."

"You're not exactly in a bargaining position, here," Sheppard replied, not liking where this was going.

"Resignation or disciplinary hearing? Either one is a lot of paperwork. And I know how much you just love your paperwork."

"What are you getting at?"

"Which one do you want?"

"Either, as long as you're alive for me to kick your ass afterward," Sheppard answered.

Lorne's lips twitched into an almost smile, clearly not believing it.

"Both require paperwork and may require me to break in another XO. Besides, I figure cutting you out of here is going to be punishment enough."

Lorne smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Sheppard's expression got serious as he squeezed Evan's shoulder again. "You did good, Major. Just hang in there. We'll get you out of here, and then we can talk about the rest."

"Thank you."

"Now shut up and let me get to work. Doc, I need you to help me in the Jumper for a minute."

For a moment Carson looked like he was going to argue, but something in the Colonel's expression change his mind. With a worried look at Lorne, he nodded. Once they were out of hearing range, Sheppard started with the one question he didn't want to ask. "Is he going to make it if we get him out of here?"

Carson sighed heavily. "Barring complications after surgery, he should recover in two to six months."

"But he will recover?"

"Yes."

Sheppard finally allowed himself to sigh in relief where Evan couldn't see it. "Good. We're going to have to pull him up and out. Can we do that without aggravating the wound?"

Carson thought about this for a second. "If you cut the bar behind the seat as close as possible and we shift him and the bar forward enough to free him from the seat, yes. But getting him out of the hole may require a sling."

Sheppard nodded, already planning this out. "Okay, I'm going to get your team and mine up here, then. Is there anything you can give him to, you know, ease the pain?"

Beckett scrubbed his face with his hands. "I wish there were, but a stimulant would increase his heart rate and the bleeding. It's nothing short of a miracle there are no damaged arteries, but he's still lost a dangerous amount of blood. A depressant would also affect his respiration and possibly put him to sleep. I can't risk either one until I have him on a gurney at the very least."

"Damn," Sheppard muttered, running a hand through his hair. His pained expression told Carson exactly how he felt about what he was planning on doing to the Major.

"It's not your fault."

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Sheppard's expression twisted angrily for a moment, but all he said was, "I know."

~o~o~o~

Twenty minutes later Sheppard was in place with the torch, half his upper body hanging down into the hold with McKay sitting on his legs to keep him from going over the side. Again Beckett sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the hole facing Lorne. By this point Lorne's pained, pale expression had gone flat behind the oxygen mask. Beckett knew it was all the man could do not to let his fear show; because the terror was clear behind those glazed blue eyes. Though Sheppard had the torch fired up, it was several seconds before he actually started cutting. For a moment it almost seemed he would change his mind.

Sheppard, hanging over the edge into the darkness acted as if he needed a moment to adjust the tube coming from the torch as his eyes adjusted. He could clearly see the rod sticking through the back of the pilot's chair, but was still wracking his brain for a solution. At this point he was grasping at anything that flitted across his mind. But this was it. There was no other way to get the man out of this predicament without likely killing him. And, even this was pretty damn iffy when you took into account that too much jostling of the rod was just going to keep tearing a bigger and bigger hole.

Cursing the Major thoroughly in his mind in every language he could ever recall having heard, he clenched his jaws and set the torch to cutting. He had the torch almost right up against the back of the seat hoping that the heat wouldn't have time to go up through the rod and into Lorne's back. Also, if he moved fast enough, he might just be able to minimize the pain.

Up front Lorne was trembling. He'd stopped even attempting to breathe as the pain set in. The moment Sheppard had touched the rod, he'd felt the movement in his chest. No matter how quick or careful the Colonel was, there was no mitigating the tearing sensation in his chest. For the moment, Lorne's entire existence narrowed to that one agonizing sensation. He knew if he could have taken a breath, he would have been screaming. Somewhere far away a pair of hands braced his shoulders, pushing him back against the seat. Closing his eyes against the pain did nothing. Casting about, trying to find something—anything—to focus on besides the pain and the blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision he looked around him.

A pair of hard green eyes met his. He wasn't even sure anymore who they belonged to; and Lorne didn't care, either. It was something to focus on. He could see the lips in that grim face moving. Somewhere else he could hear voices. He knew there was more than one. But he couldn't make sense of anything that was being said. All that mattered was the pain and blinking away the darkness trying to take him away with it.

Then his chest shattered.

~o~o~o~

Doctor Beckett watched helplessly as Major Lorne's face transformed from deadly determination to agonized shock at the pain Colonel Sheppard was causing with the cutting torch. At first it seemed like Lorne was gasping and even trying to scream. But it was clear the pain was even beyond that for him. After a few seconds Lorne began trembling. According to the Ancient scanner every vital sign had gone berserk. Every muscle in his body was tensed to trembling and was even beginning to spasm. As Lorne's shoulders began to come away from the seat as if he was going to try to pull away from the pain, Beckett's own heart lurched. That kind of movement now could kill him.

Suddenly Ronon was there. The damn man knew better than to be out of the back of the Jumper Beckett had parked him in. But, as ever, it didn't stop him. They all knew he wasn't one to sit around if there was anything of use he could contribute. The man would be on his death bed offering to fight someone. Still, in this one case, Beckett could have hugged the man for his defiance. Already watching what was happening, Ronon had shoved Beckett aside and laid himself flat so he could brace the Major's shoulders against the back of the seat.

When Lorne's eyes had opened and fixed on Ronon's, it almost seemed as if the Major was somewhere else entirely. As Ronon began to speak, however, it became clear he was not so far gone as they thought.

"Breathe, or it's only going to get worse," Ronon instructed, as if he knew something about this. Then again, maybe he did.

Lorne blinked.

"The pain is a part of you. Just like an arm or a leg," Ronon continued. "Focus on it. Breathe through it."

Lorne's trembling continued, but it seemed as if maybe he had gasped out and back in a little.

"Don't push it away. Don't ignore it. Breathe in the pain."

Behind the oxygen mask Lorne's lips parted. Whether it was to breathe or say something, Beckett had no idea. But so long as Ronon was giving the man something to focus on, he was going to let it be.

Suddenly the rod was free. Lorne's head snapped backward in one final spasm of pain before he became dead weight. The heavier end of the rod sticking out of Lorne's chest tilted just enough to make Ronon release Lorne's right shoulder and catch it. By then it was already too late. Lorne was unconscious, and Beckett doubted they would get him back any time soon. Though this could cause complications, after what he'd seen, he was almost glad. For now, they just had to focus on getting him out of here and into the Jumper…rod and all.

Turning off the torch, Sheppard hollered for McKay to haul him up. Seeing what was going on once he was above the rim again, his expression became pinched with worry, but he said nothing. Turning to the next phase of the plan, he got on the other side of Lorne while Ronon shifted to where he could use his good arm. With Beckett in the center, they slowly moved Lorne's limp form forward until the six inches or so of rod sticking out of his back was exposed. That's when Beckett set to work. While they struggled against straining, protesting muscles at the awkward positions, Ronon and Sheppard watched while Beckett practically emptied his medical kit securing the rod in a stable position. The goal was to wrap it and Major Lorne well enough to keep the rod immobile while they hefted Lorne out of there in a sling. Already the engineers were setting up the tripod above them as Beckett worked.

One of Beckett's assistants sat behind the chair with his legs dangling over the edge watching the Ancient, hand-held scanner. His expression was no less worried as he continued to watch the readings. Becket was so focused on his work, he couldn't pay attention to the Major's condition and relied on the man to keep him updated on changes. Now they were in a race. They all knew that Lorne's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and it was only a matter of time before he would crash. If he did, from where they were at now, there wasn't a damn thing they could do for him.

Finally they managed to get a sling around and underneath Lorne's limp form. But he was not so unconscious as they would have liked to believe. More than once Beckett heard what he could only describe as a whimper as they moved him up and out of the hole and then over to a gurney. Though he doubted anyone else was close enough to hear it, Beckett knew the whimpers continued intermittently until they were able to sit the gurney level and stable in the back of the Jumper. Sitting on the bench facing the Major laid out on his side with the rod still protruding from his back through his front, Beckett silently begged the man to just hold on for a few more minutes.

~o~o~o~

Three days later in more misery than he could ever remember having suffered, Major Lorne sat propped up in his bed barely conscious surrounded by tubes, wires, equipment, and people. Though the ventilator had been removed, his throat was still too raw and sore to speak. So, of course, Sheppard just had to take advantage of the situation.

"Ah, there he is," Colonel Sheppard said, catching sight of the slitted eyes. "The epic pain in the ass awakens. Did you guys know, he actually told me he was expendable?"

"Sir?" Keane asked incredulously.

Now Lorne's eyes widened enough to be considered actually open. Seeing the rest of his team and Sheppard, he knew this was so not good. Even in his drug-hazed mind, this could not be good.

"Yeah, crazy, huh?" Turning to Lorne with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he grinned at the poor man in the bed just lying there helplessly. "So I guess we're going to just have to show him how not expendable he is, aren't we?"

"Yes, sir," the three of them replied together with too much enthusiasm for Lorne's state of mind.

"Any ideas, Lieutenants?"

Cayton, Keane, and Shingleton all shared glances that were an entire conversation in themselves; which Sheppard was well aware.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll think of a few things, sir," Cayton finally said for all of them, their mischievous smiles fixed firmly in place.

"I'm sure you will. Then you best get to it," Sheppard said, leaning against the bed.

"Yes, sir!"

Their eagerness to leave the Major to the Colonel's mercies was evident in just how fast they managed to vacate the infirmary. Turning around, Sheppard dropped his smile. His whole demeanor serious now, he contemplated his XO.

"I wasn't joking when I called you an epic pain in the ass. You do realize that the longer we work together, the more of my bad habits you seem to pick up, right?"

Knowing he wasn't entirely out of trouble, but clearly Sheppard wasn't going to torture him too much in his current condition, Lorne twitched his lips in an approximation of a smile.

"Laugh it up, Major," Sheppard told him, clearly bordering on pissed now. "You're in for a long recovery. And I've got half a mind to make you a desk jockey instead of a jet jock. And that's if you can pass your physical after rehab. I'm not even going to bother throwing in disciplinary actions, because we've had that discussion already. But you are not, nor ever will be, expendable. Not to me, and not to this expedition. Am I clear, Major Lorne?"

"Yes, sir," Lorne whispered.

Sheppard grunted, not certain if the drugged up SiC was being sincere or facetious. Either way, he knew he'd gotten his point across. "That being said, thank you, Evan. I know you'd do that for anyone you felt responsible for, but I'd really rather not have to tell your mother and sister that you got splattered all over the face of a planet covering my ass. Besides, next time it's clearly my turn, got it?"

Lorne nodded slightly, his eyelids dropping quickly as he struggled against sleep.

"Hey, don't nod off just yet. There's—"

"Colonel Sheppard! I warned you that if you didn't get out of my infirmary and get some real sleep, I was going to have you sedated, and I meant it," Doctor Beckett growled, catching sight of the man standing beside Lorne's bed.

Being so drugged up as to feel slow and dull-witted, even Lorne couldn't miss the grimace that crossed his CO's features as Beckett came up behind him.

"And ye're bothering my patient, too!" he added, seeing Lorne awake. "Out with ye!"

"Aw, come on, Carson. I was just telling the Major how worried we all were. Wasn't I, Lorne?"

Not feeling up to talking and not able to stop himself from taking advantage of the moment, Lorne glanced at Beckett and then very deliberately rolled his eyes. Beckett just barely covered a smile as Sheppard gave a very irked grunt of disapproval.

"I see," Beckett said turning his attention back to the Colonel. "Since you're worried about him so very much that you want to share a bed next to him, I'll be more than happy to oblige. Shall I call Ronon to hold you down now or after I've got you restrained?"

Lorne could tell by the look of the Colonel he probably hadn't slept in quite some time. But, then again, he was so used to seeing Sheppard on the edge of exhaustion, it probably just hadn't registered through the drug haze until now. Nonetheless, Beckett certainly didn't sound like he was joking anymore.

"Fine, I was just leaving," Sheppard finally gave in with a scowl. "You just get the Major back on his feet as quickly as possible. I still owe him an ass kicking for this one."

"Why certainly, Colonel. I'll have him ready for you in a few months. In the meantime, I'm sure Ronon will be happy to keep you company."

"Huh," Sheppard grunted, turning to leave.

Only once he was well out of earshot did Beckett shake his head in bemusement before turning his attention to his patient. Lorne, struggling to keep his eyes open through the entire exchange barely managed to focus them on Beckett.

"You probably won't remember this later, but I'll let you know that man has not left your bedside since we brought you out of the recovery room. He wasn't going anywhere until you woke up. Now that you are awake, Major, I expect you to recover quickly. We'll get into details later. For now, rest. And if you see him in here when you wake up again, hit the call button so I can have him tied to a bed and sedated until you're able to move about again."

Quirking a grin in response to Beckett's half-joking statement, Lorne let himself drift off again.