A/N: Sorry to all my Lorne readers in advance. But we've been arguing. Don't worry. Lorne and I have sorted out our differences over a couple of multi-chaps, now that he realizes just how easily I could be rid of him. You should be seeing the others shortly.

Merry Christmas!


"You don't leave people in the hands of the enemy. And the fact that we are having this conversation in private tells me that you know damn well that it's wrong, and it will totally undermine your leadership…Because it's the right thing to do. Why? Because it is." –Major John Sheppard

.

Minutes. That was all they had now.

Sheppard had set the explosives knowing it was just barely enough time for the four of them to get to the dart bay. It wasn't even enough to destroy the ship. But it was enough to cripple it. He cursed the circumstances that had led them all here. How many teams had he lost now? He still didn't know if Major Lorne and his team were still alive. But he'd put out the word on the radio to get out any way they could. There was no more time. The hive ship was going to reach Atlantis any minute now.

"Come on! Hurry it up!" he shouted to McKay, guiding them through the murky organic corridors as he watched their six.

"Colonel!"

The shout from a nearby wall stopped him in his tracks. "Hold!" he called to his team, turning to that voice. "Major!"

Six feet away, just behind them, Sheppard could make out the face of his XO. The man was trapped in the wall somehow. His pale, pinched expression spoke volumes about the pain he was in.

"Sir, the rest of my team…"

"I'm sorry, Major," Sheppard told him looking for a way to cut him out of the wall.

"Colonel, there's no time!" Teyla reminded.

"What's happening?" Lorne asked, catching on.

"We've set explosives to cripple the ship before they figure out we're…free," Sheppard explained with a grunt as he and Ronon worked to cut the Major loose.

"How long?"

"There's no time!" Rodney shouted in a near panic.

"Damn!" Sheppard cursed, hacking at the wall with his knife. "Then get over here and help, Rodney!"

"No, sir!" Lorne told him vehemently. "Get out of here."

"I thought you already knew. We don't leave—"

"My legs are broken."

"Damn it!" Sheppard raged, still hacking refusing to give up.

"I'm sorry, sir. But you have to go. Go on, get out of here."

"We don't leave our people behind, Major!" Sheppard shouted, still not stopping.

"Then don't, John."

Sensing something in Lorne's too calm voice made Sheppard freeze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Those three words had been spoken softly enough he didn't think anyone else had heard them; but Ronon had stopped, too, stepping back. Looking into those pale blue eyes now set in an expression of determination, Sheppard felt his blood run cold. Lorne nodded the P90 still clipped to the Colonel's vest.

"Multiple shots to the head would ensure even if they manage to bring me back, they'll get nothing useful," Lorne told him.

"No."

"Sir, you have to get out of here, now!" Lorne reminded angrily, losing his composure as the alarms finally sounded.

Sheppard shook his head looking as if he was about to go back to hacking at the wall.

"Damn it, Colonel! I'm only asking for the same courtesy you gave Colonel Sumner," now Lorne was clearly angry.

"Evan…"

"Sheppard, they're coming!" Rodney shouted.

They could all hear the approach of the wraith soldiers.

"Now, Sheppard! You have to go, now!" Lorne shouted.

Not able to think anymore, he did the one thing he could for his friend and XO. A quick burst of three shots to the forehead and Lorne was gone. Feeling sick but knowing he still had a responsibility to the rest of his team, he turned and continued their interrupted run toward the dart bay.

~o~o~o~

Sheppard woke in his bed, sitting bolt upright in the darkness. Shaking and covered in sweat, he felt his heart racing as if he were still running in those organic corridors.

"Fuck…" he whispered to the night, struggling to slow his racing heart.

With trembling hands he scrubbed his face. How many more? How many more times would he have that dream? How many more times would he have to live through that? Sumner, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney, Ford, Lorne, even Zalenka and a half a dozen of his former lovers. How many more times would he have to dream about killing someone so they could avoid a worse fate?

His breathing finally slowing, Sheppard reached into the bedside table with trembling hands. There were few things he kept close to him. Those dog tags were among them. He didn't need to turn the light on to know what they said. They'd been burned into his memory for years now. And, if this nightmare was any indication, he would never forget.

.

Sumner

Marshall B.

648-92-6301 AF

O Negative

No Preference

.

Somehow he'd forgotten them back on Atlantis when they first returned to Earth. Upon returning to Atlantis, he'd decided to keep them. Painful as the memory was, tormenting as the reoccurring nightmare was, it was right. To him it was only right that he never forget. He knew the day he forgot how painful it was to pull that trigger was the day he should quit, for good.

For a while he sat in the darkness, remembering. The pain of the actual memory mingling with the ghosts of all the nightmares he'd had since that day washing over him, he closed his eyes. Only when his heart had slowed and his hands were steady again did he return those tags to his drawer. As always, the knowledge that he'd done right in his life, no matter the cost to himself, eventually led to dreamless and peaceful sleep.