Title: The Wild Blue Yonder
Author:
busaikkoRecipient:
skinscriptRating: PG
Summary: Pinch Hitter 3 wanted serious Lorne genfic. This is an episode tag to Search and Rescue. With Sheppard incapacitated and Carter gone, McKay and Lorne are left in charge, and Lorne's only got one leg to stand on. (2300 words) I'm not a Lorne writer, so my apologies if I have made mistakes.
Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this work of fan fiction.
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The SGC sent Evan Lorne to Atlantis because if they couldn't get rid of Sheppard themselves they hoped to bring him around underhandedly or squash him flat overhandedly. Either Evan would subtly guide his CO in the right direction, or supply the information necessary to bring Sheppard down.
"Which has to suck for you," Sheppard had said sympathetically as he showed Evan around their office, tiny and paperless, with no furniture that matched but a stunning view of spires and ocean. "The last thing you want is for your career success to depend on how well I toe the line." He'd given Evan a level, knowing look. "I've read your file, talked to people about you. I think you'll fit in here."
Evan had been given Sheppard's file to read as well. Sheppard's look suggested that he knew this, and it amused him. "Thank you, sir."
Despite appearances, Sheppard wasn't more laid back than Colonel Edwards had been. Edwards had been able to count on supplies and support being one wormhole away, but there was no safety net in Pegasus. In retrospect, this made a lot of Sheppard's early command decisions seem even more idiotic. Evan found himself looking for gray hairs in the mirror the morning after his third mission to rescue Sheppard's team.
Evan wasn't friends with Sheppard, but they worked well together. It was hard to resist the feeling that Sheppard, like the Dread Pirate Roberts in that damn movie Sheppard showed everyone, would always come for his people.
Evan had just tested every one of the chairs in his office and found that none of them were comfortable with his leg in the immobilizer, when Colonel Carter walked in. She told him not to get up and dropped into the nearest chair, which had felt to Evan as if it had been designed for someone with a permanent slouch.
"The IOA wants me back on Earth for an exhaustive review," Carter said, using air-quotes and a flick of her eyes up, not quite as disrespectful as an eyeroll but strongly suggesting she thought the IOA was interfering. "Colonel Sheppard has surgery tomorrow, and Keller says he won't be up for at least a week." She gave Evan a sympathetic look. "I know how much it sucks to be working with a broken leg, but. . . . McKay's in charge while I'm gone, and you're going to have to stand in for Sheppard. I kind of told Keller to err on the side of caution as regards his recovery."
"You'll be gone, what, thirty-something days," Evan said, thinking aloud. The Daedalus had just left; that was the minimum time before Carter could return, barring the miraculous discovery of a Milky Way ZPM. He felt his eyes go a little wide as one panicked thought followed another.
"I'll bring you back a really cool present," Carter promised.
"Five weeks under McKay with Sheppard champing at the bit," Evan clarified, and tried to look pathetic.
"It's a good thing you're so competent." Carter grinned and got up. "At least with the Ancient bone-healing machine, you'll be able to run away from both of them in a couple of weeks."
Evan grimaced. He preferred having the bone-knitter do its thing than try the titanium-screws-bolts-and-plates alternative, but two sessions a day for a couple of weeks was more than he wanted to spend flat on his back in the infirmary. He pushed himself up to standing and saw Carter to the door, even though she protested that he didn't have to. When she saw he was going to be stubborn, she gave him tips on how to use the crutches better. As she left, Carter gave him a very sisterly hug before waving him back to his own uncomfortable chair.
The first databurst from Earth after Colonel Carter left informed Evan that she was being replaced by Woolsey, who had included a neat 40-page list of questions, requests, and musings on leadership. Evan dropped his head to his desk and let himself miss SG-11 fervently for a moment. Back then, he'd just been required to do his job and no one else's, taking orders and carrying them out efficiently; he'd known what to expect from Colonel Edwards. But Sheppard had been ruthless and oddly cheerful in making sure that Evan was capable of taking over the leadership at the drop of a hat - "It happened to me," Sheppard had said, one of a very few times he'd alluded to Sumner, even though he had the man's dogtags and kept his framed photograph on the wall behind his desk. "Be prepared."
Evan had been an Eagle Scout; he couldn't imagine Sheppard as a Boy Scout at all.
He saved Woolsey's file to his desktop and stuck the computer into his backpack. His morning had been busy nonstop, but he'd delegated everything faster than he'd planned and found he had time for lunch. He hopped down to grab a sandwich and a glass of milk, and made it to the infirmary only five minutes late this time.
"Hey there," Keller said, giving him a broad bright smile and handing him first his cupful of meds, then a bottle of water to wash them down. "Colonel Sheppard's awake, do you want to go say hello?"
Evan was more than glad to put off his medical procedure for a bit longer. The last time he'd seen Sheppard was right after surgery. Evan had gone to reassure himself that Sheppard had pulled through just fine, and he'd arrived during an epic bout of vomiting that made him feel like a broken leg was practically nothing on the scale of human misery.
Today Sheppard still had the NG tube and the IV and a drain from the surgery site and probably a catheter as well, thankfully hidden under the sheets, but his eyes were open and he looked only a little dazed. Evan suspected that was because McKay was installed in the visitor's chair, talking a mile a minute.
"Way to be alive, sir," Evan said, moving to where he could be seen. Sheppard grinned and quirked up an eyebrow.
"Are you here to be my knight on shining crutches?" Sheppard asked, cutting his eyes towards McKay.
"Nice," McKay muttered, but he stood up and made a show of offering Evan the chair. Behind McKay's back, Evan saw Sheppard's eyes start to drift shut, before he blinked himself back awake.
"Yeah," Evan said, improvising. He gave McKay his best bright-eyed earnest look and ignored Sheppard's muffled snort. "I actually need to talk to Dr. McKay about running this place while you're taking your little vacation, here."
"Sorry," Sheppard said. He sounded sincere, as if he really was apologizing. He had made his initial injury worse by running around a hive ship, but Evan didn't blame him. How could he? Sheppard was Sheppard, that was what he did. He wondered how Carter was making out trying to sell that truth to the IOA.
"I promise not to make any drastic reforms while you're trapped here," Evan said. "Oh, hey, I brought you flowers." He enlisted McKay's help in getting his backpack off and open, and pulled out one of the sketches he'd done on Planet Hayfever the month before. There had been some hot pink daisy-ish things and some orange and white cattails, and Evan had needed to practice what he was learning in Dr Kiang's Thursday evening botanical drawing class.
"Aww," McKay said gleefully, taking the picture and looking for a place where it would be in Sheppard's line of sight but out of reach. He settled on the IV pole, and snapped his fingers until Evan handed the roll of tape over. "Suddenly I get why the Marines say those things about the Air Force."
Evan had meant the picture as a joke, and to brighten up the dismal infirmary a bit. He hoped Sheppard didn't think he was being mocked.
Sheppard looked normal, though, studying the picture in amusement while telling McKay, "I hate you, So much."
McKay leaned over and ruffled Sheppard's hair, dodging as Sheppard made a grab for him. "You're blushing," he told Sheppard, but put his hand to the back of Sheppard's neck while looking at the Ancient monitor. "Or you have a fever." McKay backed off a couple of steps. "You're not going to go all Linda Blair again, are you? Although I suppose as you're not eating there's nothing to bring up, but dry heaves probably wouldn't be good for your stitches."
Sheppard was losing the color that had gone to his cheeks, and Evan figured it was time to take McKay away. He handed McKay his backpack, with a warning not to drop it, and jerked his head back to where the bone-knitter was. "We'll be plotting our misuse of power over there, sir, if you need us."
Sheppard waved, his eyes heavy again. "You kids have fun, now."
"I'm pretty sure Sam won't let you run the place into the ground," McKay said, as he pulled the privacy curtain shut around Sheppard's bed. McKay's little wink-and-nudge asides implying that Carter was his best buddy constantly amazed Evan. He didn't get how McKay believed his relationship with Carter was close and friendly, bordering on the romantic, when anyone could see Carter's feelings written on her face. It made him uncomfortable; he didn't want to be around if McKay ever did catch the clue bus.
"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Doc," Evan said, a little breathless. Crutches were a lot harder than they looked. "I take it you haven't looked at the databurst today?"
McKay ticked off points with his fingers. "Meeting with department heads, meeting with sanitary engineers, meeting with jumper committee, half an hour for my own research, twenty minutes of lunch so I don't collapse from job-induced stress, hand-holding with my idiot team leader, and now 'plotting' with you. Mine is a life of idleness, replete with opportunities to read the latest bureaucratic horrors from the SGC." He stopped short, and Evan nearly crutched right into him. McKay grabbed Evan's arm and righted him absently. "It's not my sister, is it? Was there, is it. . . ?"
"No," Evan said, shaking his head. "Nothing like that."
"Well." McKay straightened a little, as if trying to look like he hadn't panicked. "Good."
"Yeah." Evan caught the eye of the technician in charge of the Ancient devices, who was a little too excited to get more practice time. "Carter's being replaced with Woolsey, the file's on my laptop. So you and I are in charge until he gets here." Evan let himself be manhandled into position on the uncomfortable bed, trying not to feel embarrassed or wince too much as the tech removed his pants and the immobilizer.
"Ew," McKay said, averting his face from the exposed bruises and swelling. "Between you and Sheppard, my appetite is really taking some hard hits." He sat down noisily, still making disgusted noises, and then Evan heard the familiar beep and whir of his laptop being switched on.
The tech clamped down the bits of the bone-knitter one by one, which didn't hurt, but then she turned it on. Evan could feel the bones in his leg vibrate, a low-key pain that just kept building, and now he didn't have his computer for distraction.
"So what's your plan?" McKay asked, walking his chair back with his feet so that he could look at Evan without getting a crick in his neck. "Sheppard won't be out of here for ten days, Keller says, and that's without complications. You can't walk, Teyla's got her baby, Carter is gone." McKay threw his hands up, and Evan's hand snapped out in vain hope of keeping his computer from falling. McKay's eyebrows shot up, and his mouth made a little "o" of surprise. The computer stayed where it was, tucked safely into McKay's lap. "You're more high-strung than usual," McKay said critically, and then gave Evan one of the fond, goofy smiles he usually reserved for his team as he dug something out of his pocket. "For now? I won't mind the little things if you won't. Here, I brought some videos for Sheppard, but he said he had a headache." McKay frowned, and stuck the flash drive in. "Do you prefer Japanese science fiction, bad TV shows, or Monty Python?"
"Monster suits?" Evan asked hopefully. "No zombies."
McKay nodded seriously. "Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah Giant Monsters All-Out Attack or Frankenstein Versus Baragon?" Evan shrugged, and McKay left-clicked decisively. "Godzilla it is." He set the laptop on the bed and angled it meticulously. The Toho company logo came up in a flash of light. "I have a scheduled review of hydroponics in, um, half an hour, but they can wait until Yokohama is destroyed."
"Awesome," Evan said. "We really do need to talk."
"Preferably when you're not being stoic. Maybe over dinner. It's lasagne. I didn't have the heart to tell Sheppard. He's not even allowed liquid food yet."
"That sucks," Evan said absently. If he concentrated too much on what McKay said he got annoyed, but when he let it wash over him the stream-of-consciousness was weirdly relaxing. He wondered if that was Sheppard's secret. Oddly enough, Sheppard's detailed arrangements for Evan to be able to assume Atlantis' command hadn't included instructions for dealing with McKay. Maybe Sheppard had known that McKay would do what he was doing now. "Colonel Sheppard's going to be fine." Evan looked away from the screen and gave McKay a wry smile, trying to be reassuring. Things had been nearly as bad as they could get; still, they would recover.
McKay quirked one side of his mouth up and moved his chair closer. "I'll hold your hand when you get scared," he offered.
"Okay," Evan said. He was tired and hurting, but filled suddenly with comfort and pleasure at being here where he fit in, and still alive, and not alone.
~*~