Tabula Rasa tag - Out of Reach
Title: Out of Reach
Author: Padawan_aneiki
Rating/Pairing: G/None
Characters: Lorne, with a smidge of Sheppard
Summary: Lorne's perspective during the events of Tabula Rasa
Out of Reach
Looking...looking...have to find them...I have to find them. I have to keep them safe.
The thoughts tumbled one after the other, over and over in his head and they were all he had to cling to, and so he did, despite the headache that pounded through his skull like something wild and heavy on a rampage. Despite the dizziness that threatened to put him down, and despite the fact that he didn’t know who he was looking for or what he had to save them from.
“Sir?” a tremulous voice asked him, and he found that he was leaning against the wall, trembling a little, and he pushed away from it awkwardly. He stared at the blonde man regarding him with some obvious concern, but blinked as he realized he couldn’t remember the man’s name, or why he was there beside him.
“Uhm,” he said and reached up to rub his eyes, berating himself for how stupid that sounded, but nothing more was forthcoming, at least for the moment.
“Are you all right?” the other man asked, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder, and he lifted his head, blinking again.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” he managed, and then the other man handed him a small bottle.
“These might help you, sir,” suggested the blonde.
He took the bottle, glancing at it and frowning. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something important about these pills but he couldn’t have said what it was. He only knew a brief urge as he opened it to take a pair of the small capsules. Quickly he dry-swallowed them and handed the bottle back to Blondie.
“Okay, then,” he said shakily as he instinctively scanned along the corridor. “Let’s get back to it,” he ordered, and his fingers curled around his weapon, a deadly-looking thing that he couldn’t remember much about and yet his hands handled it easily enough.
“Where to, Major?” one of the other men asked, and he looked back to see a small group of soldiers, like himself, standing there looking a little lost and yet...at the same time, not quite lost. They had a mission. Find them. Take them to the mess hall. Keep them safe.
He blinked a moment. Major? He was a major. Okay, he thought vaguely, let’s go with that. Releasing the weapon with one hand, he motioned generally down the hallway that stretched out before them.
“Okay, then,” he said again, and swallowed tightly. “This way; we have to find them and keep them safe.”
“Find who?” another asked and he shook his head as they started off at a brisk pace.
“I don’t know. But if we run across anyone, that’s what we have to do. We have to take them to the mess hall and keep them safe.” He frowned heavily and stopped in mid-stride. “Anybody remember how to get to the mess hall?” It was strange, knowing and yet...not knowing, not remembering even his first name. “Anybody even know who I am?”
The blank looks he received in return weren’t very reassuring.
Shrugging it off, he raised his weapon once again and started off down the corridor. They had to find them all or something...something bad...he couldn’t remember what it was they were supposed to be saving people from, but they had to do it.
Suddenly there was a blur of motion, and he swung around sharply, weapon up and ready and there was a flurry of blue shirt headed down the hallway, shouting in some other language that he didn’t recognize. “Hey, wait!” he called out. “We’re trying to help you!” They ran after the unfamiliar person but despite being pretty quick on their feet, his squad couldn’t catch up with the wild-haired, strange speaking man.
There were others, people they found aimlessly wandering the halls, with no more memory of what was happening than he had, or his squad had. Some came willingly, others were panicked and had to be subdued; the weapons for all their deadliness seemed merely designed to incapacitate. All were taken to the mess hall, where they were sealed in for their own protection.
There had been that woman. The one that must have triggered all this; she didn’t seem to be suffering any of the effects of this...strange situation, no headache, no dizziness, no...anything and she had attacked them in a bid for escape. Even now she was in the cell below; sooner or later he would have his answers.
All he could do was hope that someone, somewhere, would begin to remember what had happened, what they were protecting these people from, and when they might expect it to show up.
Someone remembered his name; he was Major Lorne. He’d blinked dully at the revelation, as he was informed that a ship was coming into the city, and he pondered that a moment before he’d ordered his squad to come with him to the jumper bay. Somehow, he knew where that was, and he felt a brief surge of triumph just to know something.
They burst in just as the ramp of the little ship was lowering and two more unfamiliar people began to disembark, one of which looked dangerous enough to take them all on, and he found himself unconsciously hunching his shoulders. There was an almost familiar, dangerous edge to the tall man and he gripped his weapon tighter, holding it at the ready. The other man was shorter, with dark, tousled hair and a more familiar blank air about him; this one didn’t know what was going on either. But there was also an observant, tense manner about him. This one, he realized, was a fighter too, a soldier like himself but he wasn’t about to let down his guard. Even if the other man was a soldier, they had to take everyone to the mess hall.
The tall guy told him to look in his pocket, and he narrowed his eyes, as much in pain from the headache that pounded through his skull unrelentingly as it was from the distrust he felt. He struggled not to waver as a wave of familiar dizziness attacked him, and the man said again, “Just look in your vest pocket.”
He couldn’t have said why he complied, but his shaking fingers found a picture hidden away in his vest pocket, and he blinked. It was a photographic image of the shorter man standing in front of him, complete with messed up hair, and a handwritten note: Lt. Col. John Sheppard. This is your Commanding Officer. Trust him!
He stared; it was clear to him that the other man didn’t have any clue about commanding anything at the moment, but the picture seemed to be clear evidence. That same niggling feeling came over him as he looked at it and he realized he could hand the mission over, now. Tiredly he did so despite the other man looking about as bad as he felt; his head hurt so badly.
“What are your orders, sir?” he asked, straightening up to attention the best he could with an aching body and a dizzy head. The guy named Sheppard seemed to ponder that for a moment and then gestured to the tall man.
“Do what he says.”
++++++
“Things got a little fuzzier after that, Sir,” Lorne cleared his throat slightly, still not quite meeting Sheppard’s gaze. “I don’t really remember helping you and Ronon take that stuff to Teyla.”
“Well that’s not surprising,” John drawled lazily. “You practically collapsed outside the jumper bay from a near-overdose of stimulants.” At the Major’s distressed expression, he hastened to add, “Not that I’m blaming you or anything; you couldn’t remember why you were supposed to be taking them in the first place, exactly. Could’ve happened to any one of us.”
“I don’t know about that, Colonel, I...”
“I sure as hell didn’t know what was going on,” John interjected sharply. “I came within a hair’s breadth of shooting Ronon point blank with a 9 mil. Cut yourself a break, Lorne and that’s an order.” The last was said lightly.
The major glanced up now, at last, into hazel eyes that still looked impossibly tired and somewhat ill. Sheppard had summoned him, despite still being laid up in the Infirmary after the cure had proved to be almost as difficult for him as the illness. A handful of others had suffered severe reactions as well and were scattered throughout the Infirmary. Lorne himself hadn’t been released until mid-morning, despite trying to insist that he needed to apologize to Sheppard immediately.
Now he was here, apologizing, and his CO was telling him not to worry about it.
one of those things that’s harder to put down, he told himself, but not out of reach. He nodded slightly. He would find a way to follow Sheppard’s order. “Yes, Sir,” he answered smartly.
“Good. Now get outta here and let me go back to sleep,” Sheppard ‘grumbled,’ but there was a pleased look in the tired eyes now. Lorne couldn’t help but grin a little.
“Thanks, Colonel. Good to have you back.”
“You too, Major,” Sheppard replied sleepily, eyes already closing. “You too.”
Author: Padawan_aneiki
Rating/Pairing: G/None
Characters: Lorne, with a smidge of Sheppard
Summary: Lorne's perspective during the events of Tabula Rasa
Out of Reach
Looking...looking...have to find them...I have to find them. I have to keep them safe.
The thoughts tumbled one after the other, over and over in his head and they were all he had to cling to, and so he did, despite the headache that pounded through his skull like something wild and heavy on a rampage. Despite the dizziness that threatened to put him down, and despite the fact that he didn’t know who he was looking for or what he had to save them from.
“Sir?” a tremulous voice asked him, and he found that he was leaning against the wall, trembling a little, and he pushed away from it awkwardly. He stared at the blonde man regarding him with some obvious concern, but blinked as he realized he couldn’t remember the man’s name, or why he was there beside him.
“Uhm,” he said and reached up to rub his eyes, berating himself for how stupid that sounded, but nothing more was forthcoming, at least for the moment.
“Are you all right?” the other man asked, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder, and he lifted his head, blinking again.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” he managed, and then the other man handed him a small bottle.
“These might help you, sir,” suggested the blonde.
He took the bottle, glancing at it and frowning. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something important about these pills but he couldn’t have said what it was. He only knew a brief urge as he opened it to take a pair of the small capsules. Quickly he dry-swallowed them and handed the bottle back to Blondie.
“Okay, then,” he said shakily as he instinctively scanned along the corridor. “Let’s get back to it,” he ordered, and his fingers curled around his weapon, a deadly-looking thing that he couldn’t remember much about and yet his hands handled it easily enough.
“Where to, Major?” one of the other men asked, and he looked back to see a small group of soldiers, like himself, standing there looking a little lost and yet...at the same time, not quite lost. They had a mission. Find them. Take them to the mess hall. Keep them safe.
He blinked a moment. Major? He was a major. Okay, he thought vaguely, let’s go with that. Releasing the weapon with one hand, he motioned generally down the hallway that stretched out before them.
“Okay, then,” he said again, and swallowed tightly. “This way; we have to find them and keep them safe.”
“Find who?” another asked and he shook his head as they started off at a brisk pace.
“I don’t know. But if we run across anyone, that’s what we have to do. We have to take them to the mess hall and keep them safe.” He frowned heavily and stopped in mid-stride. “Anybody remember how to get to the mess hall?” It was strange, knowing and yet...not knowing, not remembering even his first name. “Anybody even know who I am?”
The blank looks he received in return weren’t very reassuring.
Shrugging it off, he raised his weapon once again and started off down the corridor. They had to find them all or something...something bad...he couldn’t remember what it was they were supposed to be saving people from, but they had to do it.
Suddenly there was a blur of motion, and he swung around sharply, weapon up and ready and there was a flurry of blue shirt headed down the hallway, shouting in some other language that he didn’t recognize. “Hey, wait!” he called out. “We’re trying to help you!” They ran after the unfamiliar person but despite being pretty quick on their feet, his squad couldn’t catch up with the wild-haired, strange speaking man.
There were others, people they found aimlessly wandering the halls, with no more memory of what was happening than he had, or his squad had. Some came willingly, others were panicked and had to be subdued; the weapons for all their deadliness seemed merely designed to incapacitate. All were taken to the mess hall, where they were sealed in for their own protection.
There had been that woman. The one that must have triggered all this; she didn’t seem to be suffering any of the effects of this...strange situation, no headache, no dizziness, no...anything and she had attacked them in a bid for escape. Even now she was in the cell below; sooner or later he would have his answers.
All he could do was hope that someone, somewhere, would begin to remember what had happened, what they were protecting these people from, and when they might expect it to show up.
Someone remembered his name; he was Major Lorne. He’d blinked dully at the revelation, as he was informed that a ship was coming into the city, and he pondered that a moment before he’d ordered his squad to come with him to the jumper bay. Somehow, he knew where that was, and he felt a brief surge of triumph just to know something.
They burst in just as the ramp of the little ship was lowering and two more unfamiliar people began to disembark, one of which looked dangerous enough to take them all on, and he found himself unconsciously hunching his shoulders. There was an almost familiar, dangerous edge to the tall man and he gripped his weapon tighter, holding it at the ready. The other man was shorter, with dark, tousled hair and a more familiar blank air about him; this one didn’t know what was going on either. But there was also an observant, tense manner about him. This one, he realized, was a fighter too, a soldier like himself but he wasn’t about to let down his guard. Even if the other man was a soldier, they had to take everyone to the mess hall.
The tall guy told him to look in his pocket, and he narrowed his eyes, as much in pain from the headache that pounded through his skull unrelentingly as it was from the distrust he felt. He struggled not to waver as a wave of familiar dizziness attacked him, and the man said again, “Just look in your vest pocket.”
He couldn’t have said why he complied, but his shaking fingers found a picture hidden away in his vest pocket, and he blinked. It was a photographic image of the shorter man standing in front of him, complete with messed up hair, and a handwritten note: Lt. Col. John Sheppard. This is your Commanding Officer. Trust him!
He stared; it was clear to him that the other man didn’t have any clue about commanding anything at the moment, but the picture seemed to be clear evidence. That same niggling feeling came over him as he looked at it and he realized he could hand the mission over, now. Tiredly he did so despite the other man looking about as bad as he felt; his head hurt so badly.
“What are your orders, sir?” he asked, straightening up to attention the best he could with an aching body and a dizzy head. The guy named Sheppard seemed to ponder that for a moment and then gestured to the tall man.
“Do what he says.”
++++++
“Things got a little fuzzier after that, Sir,” Lorne cleared his throat slightly, still not quite meeting Sheppard’s gaze. “I don’t really remember helping you and Ronon take that stuff to Teyla.”
“Well that’s not surprising,” John drawled lazily. “You practically collapsed outside the jumper bay from a near-overdose of stimulants.” At the Major’s distressed expression, he hastened to add, “Not that I’m blaming you or anything; you couldn’t remember why you were supposed to be taking them in the first place, exactly. Could’ve happened to any one of us.”
“I don’t know about that, Colonel, I...”
“I sure as hell didn’t know what was going on,” John interjected sharply. “I came within a hair’s breadth of shooting Ronon point blank with a 9 mil. Cut yourself a break, Lorne and that’s an order.” The last was said lightly.
The major glanced up now, at last, into hazel eyes that still looked impossibly tired and somewhat ill. Sheppard had summoned him, despite still being laid up in the Infirmary after the cure had proved to be almost as difficult for him as the illness. A handful of others had suffered severe reactions as well and were scattered throughout the Infirmary. Lorne himself hadn’t been released until mid-morning, despite trying to insist that he needed to apologize to Sheppard immediately.
Now he was here, apologizing, and his CO was telling him not to worry about it.
one of those things that’s harder to put down, he told himself, but not out of reach. He nodded slightly. He would find a way to follow Sheppard’s order. “Yes, Sir,” he answered smartly.
“Good. Now get outta here and let me go back to sleep,” Sheppard ‘grumbled,’ but there was a pleased look in the tired eyes now. Lorne couldn’t help but grin a little.
“Thanks, Colonel. Good to have you back.”
“You too, Major,” Sheppard replied sleepily, eyes already closing. “You too.”