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Soldiers, Heroes and Friends
C4 was everybody's favorite toy, particularly Major Evan Lorne's. The more Wraith he could send into oblivion, the happier he was. He packed a block into a niche in the Wraith hive ship's wall where the hull was the thinnest and looked back at Colonel Sheppard. "My work here is done," he said smiling. "Let's go."
They loped quickly down the nearest pathway (couldn't really say hallway because the Wraith ship didn't really have anything as straight and simple as a hall. Instead, the walls curved and slithered around the ship like a living organism -- which Lorne understood was what it was. It just didn't sit right with him that he was about to blow a hole the size of a jumper in a living thing. At least it wasn't sentient. That's what McKay said.
Ronon was leaning casually against the hull of the jumper. "Ready?"
"Where's Rodney?" Sheppard asked.
"Thought he was with you."
"Crap." Sheppard looked at his detector and then at Lorne. "How much time do we have?"
"Two minutes."
"Rodney? You have two minutes to get your ass up here. Time's wasting."
"Two minutes? I'm downloading schematics of what looks like a new generation cruiser. I can't make it go faster."
"Forget the schematics, Rodney!"
Lorne tapped John's shoulder. "I can try to change the timer, but I've got to go now."
"Go!"
He took off, rounded the corner and nearly ran into a Wraith drone. He managed to clear his weapon in time, but it cost valuable seconds. "Colonel, ran into a hitch here. Get everybody on the jumper and rev it up. I'll be there."
"Lorne!"
Sheppard saw McKay running towards him, waving the drive with the information on it over his head. "Got it!" He looked around. "I thought Lorne was with you?" And then as the ship shuddered beneath them, "What was that?"
Ronon was still. "That wasn't C4," he said. "I'll get Lorne."
Before John could stop him, he was running fast and sure-footed towards the bulkhead. "Get in the damn jumper," Sheppard said, grabbing Rodney's arm. "It might be kind of a rough take-off."
^*^*^*^*^*^
The shudder ran through the ship like it was shivering violently. Lorne stumbled and his ankle turned painfully. He managed to stay upright. Something was seriously wrong, and it wasn't his fault. He turned the corner and saw the block of C4 still firmly attached. He only had seconds before it detonated and turned him into red mist. It wasn't the first time he'd faced death, but it was the first time he believed he was going to die. He yanked at the wires, because he was not fucking ready to give up.
Working as quickly as he could manage, he reset the timer to give him another two minutes to get clear. Then with his ankle throbbing with every step, he started back toward the jumper. The Wraith ship convulsed violently, pitching Lorne to the floor. He struck his head on the hard wall on the way down, felt blood sheeting his face, and then as darkness descended over his eyes, his last thought was that this was his day to die after all.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
John was in the pilot's seat and Rodney was desperately fighting with the harness as if his fingers were numb. "They aren't going to make it," Rodney said, his eyes wide. "Neither will we if we don't get off this ship."
"Relax, Rodney. We've got time."
"Oh, you can take off a ship that is blowing itself to bits around you?"
John peered through the glass and up at the life sign detector. One figure, Ronon's signature, not moving as fast as he should — John blinked. The detector flared with a second signal. Ronon must be carrying Lorne on his back, and John hoped it was because Lorne was incapacitated, and not dead. Either way, Ronon would never leave a member of the team behind.
The jumper started shaking violently as the ship began disintegrating. Ronon leapt over a chasm opening at his feet, then dashed up the jumper ramp. "Go!" he yelled just as a ball of yellow flame erupted behind him. The jumper shot up and out of the bay like a cork out of a bottle of champagne.
As soon as they were clear of the debris field, John switched to autopilot and went back to the cargo bay where Ronon was wiping the blood from Lorne's face. "Is he all right?"
"He fell, hit his head. Got a pretty good gash, but his pulse is good."
John knelt beside him. "Get the med kit. There should be some dermabond in there. Head wounds are the worst." He shone his flashlight into Lorne's eyes. His left pupil was sluggish "Rodney, contact Atlantis. Have a med team in the jumper bay."
Ronon looked at John. "Is he gonna be alright?"
"He's got a concussion for sure, whether or not it's more than that, we won't know until Keller takes a look at him."
"Sheppard, who's flying this thing?" Rodney called back.
"I'm a little busy, here."
"Unless you want that Wraith dart shooting us out of the sky, you'd better rethink busy."
"Shit," John huffed.
"S'okay. I'll stay with him." Ronon's voice was quiet, his hands gentle on Lorne's body.
John hurried back to the command console. "Just one dart?"
"He might be looking for the ship we blew up."
"We didn't blow it up," John argued. "It blew itself up with a little help from Lorne's C4." His hands moved rapidly over the controls. "Let's put him out of his misery." He fired the drone and the dart vanished silently into a puff of smoke and flame.
John sighed. "Home, Jeeves." He piloted the jumper to the space gate and in less than ten seconds, they're back on Atlantis in the jumper bay.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Lorne regained consciousness in medical. His head felt like there was a spike of wood driving through his skull. His eyes hurt. He slitted one open and groaned. "Am I alive?"
"Welcome back, Major." Jennifer Keller's face swam in and out of focus. "You're definitely alive and likely to stay that way."
"Is … is everybody else?" He looked around and then just managed not to cry at the pain and vertigo that washed through him. "Sheppard, Ronon, McKay?"
"Shh. They're fine. Sheppard and Ronon are waiting for you to wake up."
She shone a light into his eyes and Lorne bit back a curse. "Thanks, doc. That makes me feel so much better."
"You have a concussion and a severely sprained ankle, multiple contusions and abrasions, and you're dehydrated. You'll be here for at least twenty four hours."
"Doc … I've had worse. Can't I go back to my quarters?"
"I don't think so." She adjusted the drip on the IV. "Be thankful I'm not keeping you here for thirty-six."
"Can I have something to eat?"
"You'll throw it up."
"I have a cast iron stomach."
She frowned at him. "And a head like granite, but that didn't stop you from getting a concussion." She pushed him back against the pillows. "I'll tell the others that you'll survive."
As she turned to leave, Lorne muttered, "Not if I starve to death." He was actually grateful that she had refused. He would never admit it, but he was definitely queasy.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the bright lights overhead, and cursed the Ancients for their efficiency. Then, mercifully, the lights dim. "Thank you," he whispered.
"I've been here often enough," Sheppard's voice cut through the fog. "How're you doing?"
"I have a concussion."
"That's what you get for falling on your head." That was Ronon.
Lorne felt the mattress shift as Sheppard settled. "Ouch. Sprained ankle."
"Sorry." But he didn't move. His leg was warm against Lorne's. Lorne felt the mattress dip on the other side, deeper, and he was grateful that the beds were reinforced. Ronon, more physically demonstrative than Sheppard, set a big comforting and on Lorne's knee.
"So, you're stuck here?"
"Yeah, for twenty four hours." He sighed, "I owe you both a big thank you."
"We're good." Ronon firmed his grip on Lorne's knee. "You should rest."
"Like that will happen. Keller will have one of her sadistic nurses wake me up every two hours."
"We'll stay."
Lorne tried to look at John, and winced at the dim light. "You don't have to," he whispered. He didn't mean for it to sound so pathetic. He heard the thump of Sheppard's boots hitting the floor, then he shifted and he propped Lorne against his shoulder. "I might enjoy torturing you. Remember that next time you decide to go all heroic on me with C4 and short fuses."
"I had to carry you out of that Wraith ship. You're not a lightweight like Sheppard," Ronon grumbled. He moved and Lorne found himself surrounded by warm muscles and steady breathing. He'd save his objections for another time. It was enough to know he was safe, and that he had friends watching his back; even if they were the sort of friends who would be waking him every two hours when all he wanted to do was sleep.
"See you in two hours," he said and drifted off with his hand engulfed by Ronon's and his head drooping gently on John's shoulder.
The End