Title: Lost Among The Stars

Summary: When Major Evan Lorne is attacked on a mission off-world, a series of events is put into motion that reveals the very secret John Sheppard had worked so hard to keep hidden. Eventual Sheppard/Lorne. Spoilers for "Coup d'etat" and "Doppleganger".

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. My notifications for his story have been going crazy. Its really amazing to have a wonderful response when this is the first kind of 'romance' story I have ever attempted. Its great!

This chapter is the last in the Doppelganger story arc. As such, the nightmare sequences, the final showdown, and the conclusion occur in this chapter. (After that we will be moving forward with the story.) So please, enjoy!

Characters: Evan Lorne, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth Weir, Sam Carter, Radek Zelenka, Jennifer Keller, and other minor characters and OCs.

Disclaimer: all rights belong to MGM.

Warning: mentions of non-consensual rape.

~o~o~

The stone hallway was pitch black. A single torch mounted on the wall offered a sliver of light. In its flickering flame the shadows ebbed and flowed, moving to and fro in a grotesque form of dance. The sound of pounding feet and heavy breathing bounced off the thick walls. Echoing. Reverberating until it became almost impossible to find its source.

Lorne scampered down the corridor, briefly stopping to snatch the torch from its mounting.

There was no escape from the suffocating darkness. No matter how long or how far Lorne ran he always ended up before a wooden door. A vaguely familiar door. He pondered opening it to see what was beyond, but every time a sickening feeling coiled in his gut preventing him from touching it. Instead he ran.

And ran.

And ran.

"Evan? Evan, where are you?" a voice eerily echoed down the abandoned hallway.

The soldier stopped and turned. He raised the torch high above his head, trying to cast out the shadows that bit at his ankles. "Oh no. No no no no no," he chanted. His heartbeat quickened. His chest constricted. His head pounded. His breath faltered.

Lorne could count the number of people who called him by his first name on just one hand. His mother. His sister. A few close friends. And him.

Baltier.

"Give up."

Another voice. Different this time.

Lorne spun. Dizzy. Before him was John, casually leaning against the wall without a care in the world. "You'll never escape him."

"S-sir?"

"You're too weak."

Before Lorne could answer Baltier came hurtling down the hall. Unprepared for the sandy-haired man's sudden appearance, all Lorne could do was throw his hands over his head for protection. A second later, a thick shoulder caught him in the stomach. Lorne gaged and tumbled to the hard, cold ground. The torch fell from his grip, sparking as it rolled to rest at John's feet.

Cold hands grappled with Lorne, clutching at the thin fabric covering his legs. Panicked, the Major tried to crawl away. He didn't get very far until he was yanked back. His nails scraped at the cold stone as he was dragged away from John and the fading light of the torch.

"Help me! Sir!" Lorne all but cried.

John sneered, "Why would I want to help you?"

The downed soldier gasped.

"That's not me, Lorne! Don't listen to him!" Another John suddenly appeared next to the first.

"Wha-"

"You're pathetic, you might as well give up."

Lorne screamed as he was jerked back another few inches.

"Don't be afraid," the second John whispered, reaching out to him.

He tried. He really did. But he couldn't. The darkness was closing in. The cold hands were moving up to his belt. He couldn't.

"Come with me, Evan," Baltier cooed in his ear. "Don't worry, you'll like this."

"No no no no no no…" Lorne scrambled to grab hold of something, anything, but it was too late. He was gone; swallowed by the shadows, paralyzed with fear, helplessly dragged back to the familiarly doorway before he was flung into the dark abyss.

~o~o~

John watched, terrified, as Lorne was dragged out of sight.

Whimpers. Screams. Cries. All echoed back to John, mocking him.

If he didn't know any better, he would have thought this to be his nightmare, not Lorne's.

Rushing to follow after the retreating form, John scooped up the dropped torch. His nightmare self had disappeared, fading back into the shadows, leaving him alone.

It didn't take long for him to find Lorne and Baltier. John easily found the heavy wooden door, set ajar, waiting for him to enter. Not wanting to fail, the Colonel squared his shoulders and prepared for battle. The light of his torch revealed two figures struggling against one another.

"No, please, stop," Lorne begged, weakly grappling at his captor.

"Hush, Evan, it'll feel real good soon, just you wait," Baltier soothed as he carried the limp Major toward the center of the room.

There, in a halo of light, was a bed.

Just then, the Colonel's double reappeared. "You deserved this," not-John hissed.

"Shut up!" the real John yelled in return, flinging the torch at his duplicate. "Don't listen to him, Lorne!"

His second in command did not respond. Instead, John heard a loud ripping sound and a thud. He spun and saw Lorne cowering on the ground before Baltier, his torn uniform in the rapist's grip. Lorne seemed frozen in fear, unmoving, as Baltier kicked him in the chest, completely flooring him.

John found himself running forward, plowing into Lorne's attacker. But he wasn't able to land a successful blow before his nightmare self yanked him off, sending John flying into the far wall.

John groaned as he slid to the floor. He hurt. Why did he hurt? This was just a dream, right?

"No! John, please, help me," Lorne cried.

John raised his head to find Baltier straddling Lorne's waist. One of the sandy-haired man's hands circled around Lorne's neck while the other lazily trailed down his naked chest. Baltier then moved to unbuckled Lorne's pants. John grew nauseous at the sight; the position was all too familiar, mimicking the events of PXK-233.

"You can struggle all you want," not-John gloated, "but you're not going to get away."

John stumbled to his feet and made another rush at Baltier. "Lorne, listen to me. This isn't real. Don't be afraid. Don't give him what he wants."

Tears began to form in the corner of Lorne's eyes. "I c-can't. Please," he choked.

"He can't really hurt you," John said, falling to his knees.

Not-John smirked, "That's where you're wrong."

Baltier smirked as his other hand joined his first, gripping powerfully at Lorne's exposed jugular. The Major let out a strangled gasp, reacting to the sudden lack of oxygen. His hands grappled at his neck. His eyes wildly rolled around. His legs flailed. His mouth opened a gaping yawn. His chest heaved.

"If I can't have him, no one can," Baltier sneered.

"J-j-john…" Lorne gasped, his lips turning blue.

Then, with a sickening snap, Baltier twisted Lorne's head to the side.

Hands froze in their pathetic movement to gain air and fell limp. His eyes open and unseeing. His body completely still. His chest quiet.

Lorne was dead.

And John woke, softly gasping.

A flurry of activity raced around him. The occupants of the isolation room rushed to Lorne's aid.

"What happened?" John asked, trying to sit up but not quite finding the strength.

"CLEAR!" Jennifer yelled, applying the defibrillator paddles to the Major's exposed chest.

A buzz and zap echoed across the room. Lorne arched off the bed, hundreds of volts of electricity flowing through him. The steady, monotonous beep of his EKG sounded.

Deadline.

Finally, John was able to gather enough energy to set himself on the edge of his cot. He slowly peeled off the nodes attached to his temples. He felt the color drain from his face as Lorne refused to wake. The Colonel glanced over at Rodney, looking for some explanation.

"He's in cardiac arrest," the balding scientist informed him.

Setting aside the machine, Jennifer started compressions while Radek pumped oxygen into the soldier's airway. Everyone held their breath. Hoping for a miracle.

But his heart did not start again.

"I'm sorry," Jennifer whispered, "I've done all I can. I'm calling it..."

John looked over at Lorne's still body. He looked peaceful. As if he was sleeping, dreaming. Only dreaming.

"He's dead," the Doctor announced.

John blinked several times, trying to rid them of the salt and water that was threatening to fall. His gaze was drawn to the observation window where Sam, Ronon, and Teyla waited. Each one stood stock still, shock and sorrow etched onto every curve of their faces.

"There's was nothing you could do, John," Teyla said, her voice crackled over the speaker system. "It was already too late."

John sank to his knees, head buried in his hands. His friends watched him, varying degrees of sympathy on their faces. After a few moments they began to trail out the room, leaving him alone with Lorne's body. John didn't know how long he knelt there, on the edge of a breakdown.

Dead. Lorne was dead. Gone. Never to return.

Now he could never tell Lorne how he felt. Everything he ever wanted to do. All the plans he had. All gone. He regretted every opportunity where he could have confessed his love to the Major but he didn't. Like when he first thought he lost Lorne to the Genii. Or maybe during one of their many training sessions. Or possibly when they rescued each other from the Wraith a dozen times over. Or after PXK-233, when he was in the infirmary still recovering from the effects of the drug. Or maybe during their team lunches… But he was always so pathetic. So scared of rejection. And look where it got him. He was alone. All alone.

He would never have a chance now. Twice John had watched the man he loved die right before his eyes. And it was all his fault. If only he was stronger, or faster, or more convincing.

"Fuck," he breathed. "I'm am so sorry, Lorne. I'm so fucking sorry."

As much as John wanted to cry, he refused. He retreated into an emotionless shell. Nothing. He felt nothing. He refused to feel anything ever again. Feeling made him vulnerable, weak, insignificant. Oh God, so insignificant.

Collecting himself, John stood. He walked over to Lorne's body. Limp. Dead. Peaceful. So peaceful. He gently bent down and placed a chaste kiss on the soldier's brow. He sighed, momentarily resting his forehead on Lorne's. Then, turning, he walked out the room, never to look back.

John shuffled down the hall. Atlantis was quiet. Night had fallen. He passed one of the city's many expansive windows. The stars were veiled by clouds. Not even the two moons could shine through their thick cover. It was dark and bleak and depressing and oh so fitting.

He was lethargic. His limbs weren't moving properly.

After minutes of wandering aimlessly, John finally encountered Jennifer. John opened his mouth to say 'hello', but before he could greet her, she said, "This is all your fault, John."

His jaw snapped shut.

Then suddenly Ronon was there. "If you didn't touch that stupid rock, Lorne would still be alive right now," he growled.

"Some friend you are," Rodney pipped up from somewhere behind him.

John spun to find not only Rodney but also Sam and Radek there, surrounding him. He gulped.

"I thought you were going to help him," the Czech scientist accused, shaking his head.

"I tried," John said. But the words stuck to his throat, making them strained and choked.

"Colonel," Sam sniffed, wrinkling her nose in distain, "you've been compromised. I'm relieving you of duty."

John was about to reply when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. There, right there, a dark figure was lurking in the shadows. It was his nightmare self!

His double glared at him. Its features twisted into a horrible mockery of emotion.

"Son of a bitch," John whispered. Ignoring all his supposed friends - all figments of his nightmare he presumed - the Colonel ran after his other self. Grabbing hold of its shoulders, John flung the both of them through the wall as if it was liquid.

The identical duo slammed into the ground. They were no longer in the hallway near the crew's quarters. Now they were in the control room. The Stargate was active. The event horizon shimmering and shifting with its unnatural blue light.

The duplicate was on his back while John grabbed at the collar of its shirt, holding him in place. Growling, the creature twisted one of his hands away, forcing him off its body and onto the floor. John rolled away, putting distance between the two of them. They both stood, circling each other. Each a predator and the other its prey.

"You can quit now, I'm not afraid of you," John ground out.

"Oh, yes you are," his nightmare self smiled, "I'm the one thing you are afraid of. Me and your failure to protect the one's you love. You failed Lorne. You brought this on him and there is nothing you could do to stop it. His death is your fault. It's all you fault."

All previous feeling that John had locked away came bursting through the floodgate of his mind. Sadness. Guilt. Shame. Anger. Rage. Using those emotions, John surged forward, striking the creature.

Its head snapped to the side. The creature bared its teeth and immediately retaliated. Punch. Jab. Block. Kick. Punch. Chop. Block. Repeat. Blow after blow was dealt. Both received several hits before the duplicate landed a particularly devastating uppercut. While John was dazed the creature kicked him in the ribs, sending him back several paces.

John wheezed. Hands on his knees, he gasped for breath. The nightmare monster smirked, tilting its head to the side before lashing out again. But John was prepared. He caught the leg flying in his direction and used its momentum to jerk his other self forward. And then they were at it again. Punch. Kick. Block. Block. Jab. A spin kick collided with John's temple, sending him hurtling to the ground. It took him longer this time to get up.

He was fighting himself, and he was losing.

Not waiting for John to recover, the creature punched him hard. John slammed back onto his knees. He could barely catch his breath. After a moment John crawled away, bringing his hand to his face, checking to see if his nose was broken. It wasn't.

John stumbled back to his feet, wildly swinging at the creature. Blindly hoping that he could land any blow. He was easily blocked and earned another strike to his face. John moaned. And, in his inattention, the nightmare monster grabbed a hold of his shoulders and flung him with super strength across the 'gate room and into the wall, denting it. John slid to the ground, unwilling to get back up and continue to fight. But he had no choice.

The creature grabbed John by the front of his shirt and lift him up. Turning him around, it threw him through the air and onto the top of the main staircase.

John rolled until he stopped. He was gasping for oxygen. His ribs ached. His head pounded. His face throbbed. His heart stuttered.

The sound of pounding boots came closer and closer as the creature mounted the stairs. John flopped onto his back and turned so he could see his other self calmly approach, confidence oozing from every pore. Refusing to give up, John pulled himself back up, rocking drunkenly on his feet. He threw his best glare at the creature but it appeared unfazed. It punched him again and again and again.

Eventually John was able to move out of the way. The creature's fist connected with the wall and, with a crunch, plowed right through its nearly impenetrable material. While the his duplicate was busy pulling its hand out of the hole it created, John sucker punched the nightmare monster. He tried to throw another right hook but his fist was blocked. With renewed energy, their dance began again.

Not surprisingly, John ended back on the floor. And, every time he tried to get up, the creature would kick him back down. One final kick sent him over the edge of the railing. He tumbled toward the Stargate, a strangled scream escaping his raw throat.

His double casually leaped over the balcony and landed on its feet. The creature had barely broken a sweat and sported no visible injury, despite the hits John had happened to land early on during their fight. When John didn't immediately rise, it ordered, "Get up!"

John just curled into a into a fetal position, wishing it would all just end.

"Come on, John," it called in a sing-song voice. "FIGHT!"

"No," he groaned. "That's what you want."

The creature frowned before changing tactics, trying to provoke the downed Colonel. "Major Lorne," it sneered, "you loved him. And you couldn't protect him."

John whimpered, pulling himself into a tighter ball.

"It's your fault Lorne is dead!"

"I'm not dead!"

The creature slowly turned. There, Lorne slowly walked down the main staircase. Purpose and strength in each step. Lorne grinned. John's duplicate howled in rage and rushed forward. It grabbed the Major's neck and slammed him back into a pillar. Lorne gripped the creature's wrists, applying as much pressure and he could and pushed back.

"You can't win," not-John snarled.

"Yes, we can. You're vulnerable to electric shock that's why I'm still alive. You left before you could finish the job."

John slowly sat back up, hearing Lorne's admission. Alive! He was still alive.

Just then, lightning struck. Large bolts of crackling electricity sprouted from the ceiling and the walls and the floor, striking at the creature. It screamed in pain. Its form stretching and wavering and morphing in unpleasant ways.

"What the fuck was that?" John gasped.

"Defibrillator," Lorne told him.

Another burst of lightning appeared, sending John's nightmare self to its knees. Its arms flew up to protect its face. Its whole body began to spasm. Taking advantage of the creature's weakened state, John surged to his feet and moved behind his duplicate. He snatched the collar of its uniform and whirled it around. With a mighty heave, he dragged it toward the Stargate. The creature struggled faintly. And, with one final thrust, John threw the creature into the event horizon. Never to return.

"Are you, um, you, sir?" Lorne spoke up from behind him.

John turned to look at the other man. "I'm me."

"Good you or bad you?"

"I'm me me." John paused. "Are you you?"

"I think so, sir," Lorne smiled gently, moving forward to greet his commanding officer.

John sighed. "Good, 'cause for a second there I thought I was going to lose."

"Lose? We never lose, Colonel," Lorne grinned, mimicking the man's words from earlier, "You should know that by now."

"Right you are, Major," John smirked in reply.

"You ready to get out of here?"

John finally came to stand in front of Lorne and, patting him on the arm, said, "Lead the way."

~o~o~

"CLEAR!" Jennifer shouted, applying the paddles to Lorne's chest. His back arched and collapsed. The EKG blared, not detecting a heartbeat. The room held its breath, waiting for a miracle.

Jennifer was about to try again when the Major slowly opened his eyes. Lorne looked around the room wildly before resting his eyes on Jennifer. "It's okay. It's okay. Just try to relax," she soothed.

"What's going on?" he gasped.

"You were in cardiac arrest."

"The entity?"

"It's in Colonel Sheppard," Radek replied, looking over his shoulder at the other soldier on the cot.

Jennifer rushed over to her other patient and began examining the active equipment. "His heart rate is dangerous high," she reported.

"Can you wake him up?" Sam asked over the speakers.

The Doctor turned to glanced up at the observation room. "I could try but, in his physical state, that could make things worse."

"Yes," Radek agreed. "And the entity would still be in him."

"But why did the creature leave Lorne?" Rodney asked, tapping on his hand-held data pad. "If it enjoys killing its host so much, why did it leave when his heart stopped?"

Radek leaned over and pointed at a data spike, "Look at this. It didn't attempt to flee until we used the defibrillator. Perhaps that is its weakness. Electricity, no?"

"Yes, that's it!" Rodney exclaimed. He began typing furiously. "It cannot sustain it hold over the host when an electrical current interferes."

Lorne didn't even consider what he said next. "Hook me up to him again," he ordered.

"Major? Are you sure?" Jennifer looked at him curiously, as if doubting his judgment.

"Its his only chance," he nodded, settling back down onto the cot. "I can help him keep the entity at bay. Then you can zap him with the defibrillator… can you find a frequency that would harm the creature but not stop Sheppard's heart?"

"Of course," Rodney scoffed.

"Do it," Sam commanded.

Jennifer rushed back over to him, adjusting the equipment. She reapplied the nodes to his temple and reinserted the IV into his arm. Lorne looked back over at John. The Colonel was paler, beads of sweat rolled off his forehead. Lorne feared he didn't have a lot of time. John could only fight against the entity for so long. Looking back at Jennifer, he watched her turn on the VR machine.

It wasn't like falling asleep. It was a flash. Sudden. Disoridenting. Lorne blinked. One moment he was in the isolation room and then he wasn't.

Lorne found himself standing in one of the many hallways of Atlantis. All alone.

He started running down the corridors, searching for his commanding officer. Turn after turn after turn brought him nowhere. He didn't know where John was located. Atlantis was too big to search singlehandedly. As he ran down another hallway, Lorne heard a noise. He stopped. It was faint, but he definitely heard something. Straining his ears he heard it again - a muffled cry. Below, the sound was coming from underneath him.

The control room!

Rushing with new purpose, Lorne bounded down the nearest staircase. When he reached the correct floor he found the entrance to be blocked. The doors were sealed, but with a little effort, Lorne was able to pry them open.

He crept passed the DHD, not wanting to alert the creature to his presence. The Stargate was active, casting a hauntingly blue glow over the whole room. There was movement below. The sounds of uneven breathing and heavy foot falls.

"Get up!" Lorne heard a voice, one that sounded like the Colonel but had an air of malice. "Come on, John. FIGHT!"

There was a groan. "No, that's what you want."

Lorne peered over the edge of the balcony. Beneath him were two Johns. One walked with purpose across the 'gate's platform toward the other. The second John was curled up in a ball, protecting his face and his ribs. He was heaving, clearly in pain. Lorne immediately knew who was who. His John needed help. He stood and prepared himself to make his appearance but the next words the creature said stopped him short.

"Major Lorne," it sneered, "you loved him. And you couldn't protect him."

Lorne saw John curl into himself. Not denying the words.

Love? Lorne's heart stuttered. Was it possible? Could John really be in love with him?

"It's your fault Lorne is dead!" the nightmare being said, continuing its psychological attack.

The Major shook his head, now wasn't the time to contemplate his love life. So steeling himself, Lorne emerged and stated, "I'm not dead!" Taking one stair at a time, he confidently strode forward, grinning. The creature slowly turned around to face him, teeth bared and growling. It rushed forward, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him into a pillar. Lorne grappled with the nightmare being, grimacing in disgust.

They exchanged words, gloats of destruction and triumph, between themselves. Meanwhile, Lorne saw John slowly struggle back to his feet. Shock and hope graced the Colonel's face. He watched in awe as Lorne fought the creature.

John flinched when lightning appeared out nowhere, striking his duplicate. It screeched and convulsed in pain. Its form twisted until it became a mere imitation of the Colonel, a caricature. John eventually snatched the creature by the collar and dragged it to the Stargate's event horizon, and tossed it through, leaving nothing but ripples in its wake.

Slowly, Lorne's adrenaline flooded away. His automatic banter and responses to John's queries faded and he finally was able to really get a good look at his commanding officer. John was nearly white, deep lines of pain were etched into his brow. His breathing was shallow, small puffs and wheezes. His forehead was slick with sweat. His fists hung loosely by his side, bloody and bruised. But he was smiling. A big, goofy grin despite it all. His gaze never wavered from Lorne's face. His eyes bright, sparkling with love and admiration.

There it was again. Love.

Lorne desperately wanted to ask him if what the creature had said was true. But he didn't; it was neither the time nor the place. So instead he inquired, "You ready to get out of here?"

John reached out and compassionately patted him on the arm and said, "Lead the way."

Lorne smiled softly and blinked. Then they were both back in the isolation room. Radek and Rodney moved about them busily. The two scientist were yanking cables out of the containment chambers. Each crystal sparkled brightly. The entity had returned to its home.

Lorne closed his eyes sluggishly. It was harder to awaken the second time. Breathing deeply he glanced over to where John rested. The Colonel's eyes were open and responsive. His shoulders were tense. His lips quivered for a moment before he looked over at Lorne. Their eyes met and John's body relaxed.

Smiling at him weakly, the Major collapsed back into the cot. He was tired. Exhausted. His brain was overworked and needed to rest. Hibernation seemed like an appealing idea. But Jennifer refused to let him leave, he had temporarily died afterall. She checked him over, taking his pulse and checking his pupils. When she finally admitted that he probably didn't need to spend the night in the infirmary - if and only if he returned in the morning for a check-up. Lorne readily agreed. He made to leave but John stopped him.

"Thank you, Lorne. You didn't have to come back..."

The Major's lips quirked into the semblance of a smile. "I had to, sir. Who else would keep McKay in line?" He heard Rodney squawk in the background. "Besides, I don't think I'm quite ready for a promotion."

John chortled. "That's a shame, you're so damn good at paperwork. The IOA would love you."

Lorne wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Go get some rest, Lorne. We'll take care of this mess." John gestured to the crystals.

"Yes, sir."

~o~o~

Later that night, after John and the team returned the crystal beings to their home planet, the Colonel found himself on the cafeteria's balcony. He slowly munched on a bowl of fruit while reading War and Peace. He had been secretly hoping to see another light show in the sky, but he knew it would be unlikely. In all reality, John just wasn't ready to go back to sleep anytime soon.

After about a half hour Lorne joined him at the table.

"Couldn't sleep," the Major stated, pulling up a chair to sit across from his commanding officer.

"Yeah, me, too," John confessed.

They peacefully sat in silence before John set aside his novel and leaned forward. "Lorne?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Your nightmare…"

Lorne flinched, recalling the terrifying dream. His total mercy at the hands of Baltier. And the nightmare monster mocking him. Telling him he deserved it. It hurt to remember.

"...please believe me when I say I would never intentionally hurt you."

"I know, sir," Lorne whispered. "It was just a dream, after all."

"It doesn't matter." John shook his head.

"You're right," the Major spoke, "it doesn't matter. So don't apologize. None of this is your fault. Not when the team got infected, or when Kate died, or when the entity came back to me. It was an accident you even touched the crystal in the first place. It was all that creature's fault."

John smiled grimly. "Here I am, trying to comfort you, and you're trying make me feel better."

"You might keep McKay in line, sir, but I keep you in line."

The Colonel huffed.

Lorne turned his head to look up at the sparkling stars. The two moons hung low and bright. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

"Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if you didn't come to Atlantis?" he asked.

"No," John responded honestly, his eyes also drawn to the majesty above him.

"Yeah, me neither."

The conversation lulled and they sat in silence, just gazing at the stars.

Ronon eventually appeared. He plopped a whole tray of food down on the table. "I thought I'd have a little snack before…" The Satedan trailed off, not really buying his own excuse.

"Yeah, we couldn't sleep either," John said, smiling sympathetically.

Not to long after Jennifer joined them. Then McKay. Then Sam and Teyla. Eventually the whole group was quietly munching on food and chatting amongst themselves. It was nice, John supposed. They had survived. They were here. And they were together.

~o~o~

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this chapter! The conclusion was a little cheesy but it was authentic to the original SGA episode. The fighting sequence took me forever to write. It was complicated and I really tried to copy it blow for blow from the episode. It did, however, give me an excuse to watch the fighting sequence in Doppleganger several times in a row.

THE REVEAL! (You probably thought Lorne would confess to John, didn't you?) Anyway, now Lorne knows that John loves him. What is he going to do with that information? Does he doubt what he heard? Will he confess his own crush to the Colonel? What's going to happen next? Ahh, so many questions! So many possibilities!

Never fear my friends, all will be answered! I have up to another ten chapters or so planned for this story, so the adventure will not be ending anytime soon.

Please review!