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: Another new chapter, as promised. Definitely one of my favorites so far. I don't have many comments so I'll keep them until the end and just let you guys start reading. 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: surprise, surprise, still not mine.

Warning: mentions of non-consensual rape.

~o~o~

John opened his eyes to find himself staring at what he strongly suspected was Lorne's ass.

It looked like Lorne's ass - well his pants anyway - though it was thoroughly impossible for John to tell because he had never had the occasion to examine Lorne's ass upside down nor from this rather impressively close range. How he arrived at this angle and this range, he was not entirely sure. Not that he was complaining.

"Um, have I missed something?"

"Hang on," he heard Lorne say from somewhere above him, "we have a bit of a situation here."

The Colonel suddenly registered that he was actually hanging from Lorne's shoulders. Behind him he could hear the distinctive rustle of underbrush. They were being followed, he realized.

Without warning, Lorne lifted John from his shoulders and laid him on the ground. With his head resting on a small patch of moss, John immediately became aware of the pins and needles sensation that ran up and down his spine, poking him in a most uncomfortable way. All too familiar with the feeling, he instantly knew he had been stunned.

Just then, John heard the telltale buzz of Wraith weapons.

Lorne shifted, adjusting the grip on his P-90. With a burst of fire, the Major emptied his clip into the surrounding trees. After a moment or two of silence he heard a thud off to their right. Lorne stalked forward with purpose, out of John's view. After a moment, four quick, successive shots echoed. The Colonel waited, holding his breath until his second in command came back through the tree line.

With a sigh, Lorne walked over and knelt next to John. "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Like I got stunned," he deadpanned.

Slamming another clip into his weapon, Lorne rolled his eyes. "You were grazed," he sniffed, "barely out for fifteen minutes." Glancing up, he noted the Colonel's pale complexion. "Anything else? How's your side?"

John traced the bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen. The wound throbbed. John could feel the heat pulsating from it with his tingling fingers. Definitely infected, he thought. "I've been better," he shrugged.

"Right," the Major drawled, skepticism practically oozing from his voice. "Think you can walk?"

"Yeah," John grunted.

The Major nodded. "The area is too heavily patrolled… I can't get you to the clearing by myself," he reported, "We're going to have to find a spot we can defend until backup arrives."

John's brow furrowed, only just noticing that their number had dropped down to two. "Where's Teyla?" he asked.

Guilt flashed across Lorne's face before he could hide it. "We were ambushed. She stayed behind to give me more time to get you out," he honestly responded. "I haven't heard back from her yet," he said, indicating his headset. "But Abrams informed me that he picked up Ronon and McKay a few minutes ago."

John sighed, "That's good news, at least."

"The team is going to rendezvous with the Jumper before they come get us."

"That's fine," John nodded. "Give me a hand, will you?" he asked, not fully able to stand up on his own. Lorne immediately put a sturdy hand on John's shoulder while gripping his waist. Bending down, the Major hauled his commanding officer off the ground. Shifting his grip, Lorne threw John's arm over his shoulder, taking a majority of his weight. The Colonel could feel Lorne breath on his exposed neck. It tickled, like the faint kiss of butterfly wings.

A flash of heat traveled down his body, leaving him slightly weak in the knees. "Thanks," he gulped, not quite sure if he was suffering from the fever of his infected wound or the embarrassment of his inability to compose himself when Lorne was so close.

He supposed it was both.

"There's a patch of dense shrubbery on that hill over there," the Major nodded toward a cluster of bushes not far away, "We can hide there."

While John wouldn't exactly call it a hill - more like a mound of dirt and stone - it was a fairly good location to defend; the dense undergrowth would keep them hidden while the mound would prevent them being attacked from all sides. Agreeing on the plan, the two soldiers hobbled over to the bushes as quickly as their bodies would allow.

After Lorne deposited John on the soft earth again he doubled back to cover their tracks. Even if the enemy found the dead Wraith the Major had just killed, they wouldn't be able to track them. But just to be safe, Lorne laid a false trail heading away from the direction of their hiding spot.

When the Major returned, he found John slumped against the hill, giving him the illusion that he was just casually sitting on the ground. But no matter how well John pretended to be relaxed, Lorne could tell that he wasn't faring very well with his injury; no matter what the Colonel said otherwise.

Ignoring the concerned look Lorne was giving him, John inquired about Teyla. "Have you heard back from her yet?" he asked, wiping sweat off his brow.

Lorne crouched next to his commanding officer. "Not yet…" he responded. However, noting John's expression, he added, "But I'll check," deciding that now was as good a time as any to find out. Lorne turned on his ear piece. "This is Lorne. What's your ETA?"

Abrams immediately answered. "We just reached the Jumper, sir. It might take a few minutes before we can head in your direction."

"Any news from Teyla?"

"She with us, sir. The Wraith broke her headset, but we found her. Everyone is accounted for… except for you and Colonel Sheppard, that is."

Lorne nodded. "Okay, good. Sheppard and I have dug in just one click northeast of the clearing. We have several patrols on our tails." The Major eyed the pale Colonel next to him. "We can't move without exposing ourselves, and we are in no position to fight back against multiple un-friendlies."

"Understood, sir," Abrams responded. "ETA is ten minutes."

After dismissing his Lieutenant, Lorne turned off his ear piece. "Abrams has Teyla," he reported. "Back-up will be arriving soon."

The injured Colonel simply nodded. Lorne watched as John's hand trembled slightly as it weakly touched the red bandages covering his side. His wound had started to bleed again.

"Are you okay, sir?" the Major stupidly inquired, knowing full well he would not like the answer, truthful or not.

"I'm-" John paused to lick his chapped lips. "I'm fine, Lorne. Just focus on the Wraith." When the Major hesitated, John snapped, "That's an order!"

"Yes, sir," Lorne automatically replied and, repositioning his grip on the P-90, turned his focus toward the surrounding forest.

With Lorne's back to him, John limply slumped onto the hill. He was weak. His side was on fire. He couldn't focus. His head throbbed. He felt too hot. His breathing was irregular. He couldn't feel his extremities. His vision was blurred.

He was in shock. Or maybe not, John wasn't too sure. The blood loss was making it hard to think.

John's attention waned as the minutes slipped by; he felt himself becoming more and more sleepy.

He felt like death. He could feel it - the inevitable crushing darkness. He didn't want to die. There was so much he wanted to do. So much he wanted to say. He had so many reasons to live, and just as many regrets. But his biggest regret…

John weakly shook his head. No, the Colonel reasoned, he shouldn't think like that.

The movement send a wave a nausea up and down John's body. He blanched, his forehead immediately becoming slick with sweat. Black spots entered his vision. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings.

His biggest regret would always be…

"I love you," John gasped. His body stuttered under the weight of his confession, not fully believing he had actually vocalized what he had keep hidden for months and months.

Lorne kept his gaze on the surrounding trees, his shoulders relaxed - and for a moment John thought the Major hadn't heard him. But after a beat, Lorne quietly replied.

"I know."

"You know?" John blinked, not quite comprehending what he heard.

"Yeah, I've known for sometime now."

"Oh," John breathed, sinking back into the mound that supported his battered and bleeding body. He waited, but Lorne did not elaborate.

John tried to maintain consciousness while his mind raced. His overactive imagination went over every event - everything he ever said or did - that could have alerted Lorne about his feelings for the man. He was mortified that Lorne knew; he wished the Major would just leave and let him die in shame.

While his commanding officer wallowed in depressive self-reflection, Lorne was struggling with his own reaction to John's confession. He never really thought that the Colonel would admit his feelings. But he did. And now Lorne could not avoid his own feelings any longer.

Abandoning his post, Lorne crawled over to John and crouched in front of him. His commanding officer's eyes were closed. His face deathly pale. His hands wrapped themselves around his still bleeding wound. Lorne clipped his P-90 to the front of his TAC vest while placing his spare handgun on the ground within reach. Leaning forward, Lorne placed his hands over John's, mimicking an intimate embrace. He applied pressure, both to stave the blood and to gain the injured man's attention. Opening his eyes, John desperately stared at Lorne, silently begging him to leave him in peace.

"John," the Major said gently.

The Colonel slowly blinked back, clearly startled with the use of his first name.

Lorne took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"I love you, too."

"Wh- what?" John choked, almost believing he had already died and gone to some twisted version of heaven.

There was no turning back. "I love you, John," Lorne repeated. He leaned so close that the Colonel could clearly see the sincerity in his eyes.

"I- I don't understand," John stammered. "What about Richards?"

"I never really dated Grace," Lorne calmly explained. "I dated her brother, Malcolm. It was just convenient to pretend to be girlfriend/boyfriend. Besides, she's seeing McKay."

"Rodney!"

Lorne nodded, a smirk ghosting across his face.

"Wait… brother?"

The Major nodded a second time.

"Then you're…"

"I'm gay, John."

"I didn't… How could I? - I didn't know."

"I know," Lorne said again, his fingers moving to intertwine with John's. He tried to ignore the slick blood that stained their hands. Dread crept into his gut, making him briefly look away from the dying man and survey the dense forest. All was quiet. He shivered.

John broke him out if his revery. "How did you know?"

Turning back, Lorne smiled weakly. "I overheard what that crystal monster said to you in your nightmare… that you loved me. The rest kind of fell into place," he shyly admitted.

"That was months ago!"

The Major simply shrugged.

"If you knew, and clearly felt the same way…" John quietly said, more to himself then the soldier before him. "Then why aren't we together?"

"It's complicated," Lorne defended.

"So un-complicate it."

The Major sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on John's brow. "It's not so simple."

"But it could be," John whispered in response, eyes wide and pleading.

Unwilling to answer, Lorne forwent words. After a moment of hesitation, he surged forward and kissed the Colonel. Their lips met and Lorne was finally able to convey all his feelings into one intimate gesture.

Love. Fear. Acceptance.

Lorne eventually pulled out of the kiss and smiled happily.

John collapsed back onto the hill, watching his second in command though lidded eyes, a ghost of a smile also gracing his colorless features.

"John, I-"

Crack.

The familiar sound of a gunshot caused the two soldiers to jump apart. Lorne scrambled to level his P-90 at the surrounding shrubbery. At the same time, John picked up Lorne's discarded sidearm. He drew himself behind the Major's body, seeking protection while watching his back.

"Stay there, sir," Lorne ordered, slowly creeping forward.

He was on high alert, completely aware of any possible threat that could be lurking in the trees. Peering past the dense bushes where he was originally posted, the Major only saw the dark forest that lay beyond. He could see no movement or hear any sound that could indicate where the shot came from… Or who shot it.

After several moments of silence, Lorne looked back over his shoulder. John remained propped against the mound, unmoving. "Sir?" he whispered harshly.

No response.

"Sir!"

The wounded man still did not budge.

"John!"

Just as Lorne was about to rush back to the Colonel's side, a rustling in the bushes caused him to spin around and click the safety off his semi-automatic weapon. Cursing to himself, Lorne knew had carelessly given away their position.

Thinking he could draw fire away from John until backup could arrive, Lorne stood up and moved out of the dense shrubbery. "Who's there?" he called out, "Identify yourself!"

After several tense seconds a very human voice responded; "Major Lorne?"

"Lieutenant," Lorne sighed, shoulders relaxing as his second in command and another Marine entered the small clearing. "It's about time you got here."

"I came as fast as we could," Abrams responded, shouldering his P-90. Then gesturing to his companion he said, "I had to find a medic."

"Where's Colonel Sheppard?" the Marine questioned, pulling out a medical kit from his backpack.

Immediately putting on his professional, emotionless mask Lorne motioned to the bushes he just exited. "Over here. He was conscious and talking until just a minute ago, must have finally passed out from all the blood loss."

Abrams stood guard as the Marine medic and Lorne examined John's motionless form.

"He's suffering from severe hypovolemia," the soldier stated, examining the injury on John's side. Then noticing the red streaks extending from the bleeding laceration and the small amount of pus leaking from the wound, he grimaced. "It's already infected. We need to get Colonel Sheppard back to Atlantis immediately."

Lorne nodded solemnly, knowing it was worse than John originally admitted.

"The LSD doesn't show any more signs of Waith in the area, but there is no guarantee how long that will last," Abrams reported. "We need to get moving, sir."

"Alright, Lieutenant, lead the way."

The Marine quickly put away his medical kit and went to grab John's bloodied hands. Seeing what he meant to do, Lorne stopped him. "I'll carry Sheppard," he snapped, suddenly feeling overprotective of John, unwilling to let another man hold him. "You and Abrams lead the way to the Jumper."

"Yes, sir," the soldier responded, hefting his P90 back into the crook of his arm.

As the two stood guard, Lorne removed his side arm from John's loose grip and replaced it in his leg holster. Then, gripping both of the man's wrists in his hand, he lifted John back into the fireman's carry he had been using not a half hour ago. Once confident that he was not going to drop John, he took up his semi-automatic and turned back to the other soldiers waiting for him.

"This way, sir," Abrams said, motioning his head back toward the way they came.

Guns raised, the three moved quickly through the dense forest. The reading on the LSD held true, the group dd not run into a single Wraith during their trek. And even though his shoulder began to pain him again, Lore refused to give up John to either of his companions. He felt as if it was his personal responsibility to get John back to Atlantis. He owed the man that much. And so, almost fifteen minutes later, they finally arrived at the clearing which held the Puddle Jumpers and the rest of their group.

Seeing their commanding officers enter the clearing, the pilots began to fire up the engines. With Lorne's permission Abrams climbed into the first shuttle. Noting that the Jumper was already full, Lorne and the Marine medic entered the second Jumper only to be immediately confronted by an anxious Rodney.

"Oh my God," the balding scientist cried, "Is he dead? Please don't tell me we went through all this trouble just to save a corpse…"

"Shut up, McKay," Ronon growled. "He's not dead, right Lorne?"

The Major ignored John's two teammates and gently deposited the still unconscious Colonel on a vacant bench. Teyla suddenly appeared beside him with a handful of bandages and pain medication. Allowing her and the medic to take over, Lorne went up to the cockpit and ordered, "Prepare for immediate departure."

"Yes, sir," the pilot responded. Hitting several controls the back ramp retracted and the door closed. With a whirred of Ancient equipment, the Jumper began to take off. "We'll be at the 'gate in two minutes."

Lorne nodded. "Camouflage the ship. We don't want to have any more trouble getting off this fucking planet." And, not waiting to hear the pilot's answer, the Major moved back into the Jumper's rear compartment.

Finally having the chance to gaze around the ship's occupants it seemed that they all looked like Lorne felt. Ronon sat on the far bench with a large bandage wrapped around his entire ankle. He fingered his alien blaster as he frowned at the panicking scientist who anxiously paced around the open space. Rodney's hair, or what was left of it, was in a completely disheveled state. And given the nature of his complaints, Lorne was sure that Rodney was injured - though he blushed a deep red whenever anyone asked where. Teyla sported several bruises along both her bare arms and seemed to be favoring two broken fingers, but that didn't stop her from helping the Marine take care of her friend.

John looked impossibly pale. His condition had severely worsened during their trek back to the Jumpers. His eyes were bruised and sunken into his face. John's chest stuttered with each breath, and his lips slowly turning blue.

Lorne tried to keep a professional face, but he knew he was losing the battle. John's side had stopped bleeding, but Lorne was positive that simply meant he barely had any blood left to bleed. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he shuffled forward anxiously.

"How long has he been unconscious?" Teyla asked Lorne once she noticed that he had returned from the cockpit.

"No more than twenty minutes," he replied, kneeling beside her.

Teyla hummed and continued to apply her ministrations to bloodied wound. But as she reached for more gauze, Lorne grabbed her hand. "Thank you, Teyla," he whispered, afraid he talked any louder his voice might break. The Athosian blinked back up at him curiously. "If you didn't let us go ahead after we were ambushed I fear that we might not have made it to safety."

"Of course, my friend," Teyla smiled, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "I know you have done the same."

"Nevertheless, thank you," Lorne returned her smile, eyes misting slightly, and released her hand. And, knowing if he stayed beside John any longer he might start crying, the Major stood and went over to sit beside Ronon.

"You okay?" the Satedan gruffly asked, noting that Lorne was gently massaging his shoulder.

"Huh, oh yeah, old injury," he lamely responded, blaming his now swelling shoulder on his duel with the Unas youngling the previous week. "Just hurts like a bitch," he confessed. "How's the ankle?"

"Fine," Ronon responded quickly. "It'll be good in a day or two."

"We're approaching the 'gate, sir," the pilot called from the cockpit. "There's two darts guarding it."

Frowning, Lorne rushed to the front of the Jumper and sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "I'll dial Atlantis, just get us out of here," he snapped, knowing that any delay would risk John. Then using his ATA gene, the Major began punching in the 'gate address as quickly as he could into the ship's DHD.

Taking control of the weapons system, the pilot sent two drones hurtling toward on the closest Wraith ship. It was a direct hit. The explosion rocked the Jumper but it did not impact it course toward the Stargate. The remaining dart flew around the falling, burning wreck and attempted a direct attack on the camouflaged Ancient vehicles.

Easily evading the enemy ship, the pilot fired two more drones. But, be it luck or skill, the Wraith ship avoided the attacked and spun toward the position where the shots were fired and sent its own energy torpedo back toward the invisible vessel.

Smoothly maneuvering the Jumper out the way, they continued toward the 'gate.

Looking out the bay window, Lorne watched the event horizon burst forth from the Stargate and settle into a calm pool of blue and white. He slide in his seat as another energy torpedo rocked the Jumper. Putting full confidence in the pilot, Lorne sent through his IDC and radioed ahead.

"Atlantis, this is Major Lorne. We have injured, get Doctor Keller ready for us on the other side."

"Lorne, this is Carter," Sam's voice responded. "The shield is down. Medical is waiting for you."

"Copy that," Lorne replied as he watched the second Wraith dart explode to their right. But as the smoking wreck crashing into the dense forest beneath them, he saw three more darts appear on the horizon. "Be advised, we're coming in hot."

"Understood, Major."

Turning to the pilot beside him, Lorne commanded, "Get us out of here!"

"Yes, sir."

Putting in another burst of speed, the Jumper skillfully flew into the rippling surface. Just as they entered the other side the pilot applied the brakes and immediate gained altitude, flying upward the Jumper bay. Beneath them, Lorne could hear the second Ancient ship exit the event horizon and the telltale whoosh of the Stargate closing behind them.

Letting out a breath he didn't realized he was holding, Lorne stood and rushed toward the rear compartment as they landed. Limbs shaking with adrenaline and worry, he slammed his fist on the back panel, opening the door and releasing the ramp. The medical team immediately rushed aboard. Directing them to John, the Major ordered, "Get Colonel Sheppard on a stretcher now. Medic," he addressed the Marine that assisted him back in the forest, "accompany them to the infirmary, inform Keller about his injuries."

"Yes, sir," the Marine responded. "But what about the others?"

Lorne looked over his shoulder at the Jumper's occupants; Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney stood quietly to the side, watching with varying looks of concern as John was whisked away. Knowing they would not argue with his decision he responded, "Colonel Sheppard is our priority."

The soldier nodded. "Yes, sir."

Watching the medical team leave with John, Lorne sighed. He was suddenly very tired. His shoulder burned and his heart ached. They were back on Atlantis and all he could do was hope that everything was going to be alright.

Everything had to be alright.

~o~o~

A/N: Hell yeah! John finally confessed! It's about time, I'm not sure he could have held in his 'little secret' much longer. But now that their feeling are out in the open, John and Lorne have no choice but to confront each other… That is, if John survives. (Of course he will, I'm not that evil. But the characters don't know that.)

Sorry, it took me so long to post this chapter. I literally rewrote it four times because I wanted it to be perfect. Honestly I was a bit hesitant even posting it today but I know I was only holding myself back from writing the next chapter at this point.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks!