The concussion of the blast wave knocked Lorne clear across the gate room to land in a sprawling heap up against the base of the Gate. He was still conscious at least, he realized, the pain alone told him that much. It rippled down his entire body, setting nerve endings tingling and muscles cramping. Groaning, he managed to flip himself onto his back and then hooked a hand through the ring of the Gate to haul himself up to a sitting position.
It looked like a day in Hell around him though the whole area was deathly silent. People were running down the steps, their mouths moving but no sound emerging. He could feel blood trickling from his ears and realized his ear drums had been ruptured. The only sound he could hear was a low pitched buzzing as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence in his aching, dizzy head.
Smoke was billowing from ruined consoles, small orange flames licking out till they were quenched by a couple of airmen using fire extinguishers. The air was heavy and grey looking, a pall of cloud hanging over the entire room.
Jeff Stevens lay next to him, one hand reaching out towards Lorne as if for help, the major's eyes wide in death.
Lorne turned away, nausea burning up his gullet, trying desperately to quell the sickness even as he retched dryly over and over.
A hand grasped his shoulder and he swallowed down hard, took a deep breath then looked up to find Mr. Woolsey kneeling in front of him, concern on his face. Woolsey's lips were moving but there was still no sound and Lorne tapped his fingers to his ears. The gesture gained a sympathetic and grim smile from Woolsey even as he turned and looked at Stevens.
A gentle pat to his shoulder then Woolsey was gone, moving quickly across the room to where Sheppard knelt beside a downed McKay, his bloodstained hands pressing hard against the man's chest. Lorne grimaced as he saw the large shard of glass sticking up from the wound, the blood still pooling beneath McKay despite Sheppard's efforts to staunch the flow.
Woolsey looked around, obviously shouting for help and Lorne heaved a sigh of relief as a group of medics ran in, gurneys rattling along behind them. The first two stopped beside him but he waved them on toward Sheppard and McKay, watching as the Colonel was hauled to his feet by Woolsey and forcibly moved aside.
Another hand on his shoulder and Lorne looked up into Teyla's worried eyes. He wanted to tell her he was okay but the whole room was spinning lazily around him now, circling in on itself till her face became a mere pinprick in the center of his wobbly vision and then everything just blinked out.