Unsettled

by Late2SGA

Is there something wrong with Atlantis, or is it the stress of the Asuran conflict and recent losses that is affecting Sheppard? Takes place S4, between Lifeline and Reunion. The Team plus Keller, Heightmeyer.

~ Unsettled ~

Word Count: 5212

Characters: Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, plus some Keller and Heightmeyer.

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Something's wrong," John Sheppard announced as soon as he crossed the threshold of Rodney's sanctum.

Rodney McKay, hunched over a lab bench, didn't even look up from the computer screen. "That's a very vague statement. Do you think we could be just a little less non-specific?"

"Something's wrong with the city."

That got Rodney's attention. He looked up, straightened on the stool, and his eyes widened. Then he turned back to the computer and began rapidly tapping keys. "No alarms. What do you mean 'something's wrong' and how do you know?"

"Atlantis...told me."

That got his attention again. "Told you..." McKay narrowed his eyes in a frown and crossed his arms. "You have maintained that Atlantis doesn't speak to you, so why's she so chatty now?"

"She doesn't talk to me, Rodney."

"But she sure wants to please you whenever you're around."

"She's not trying to please me; she responds to thoughts."

"A little heat or light, maybe a back rub, aromatherapy..." Rodney huffed and let his arms fall. "No one else receives such enthusiastic responses to the merest whims."

John sighed in a display of patience. "We've been through this. With Ancient tech there's a background... hum. A tingling sensation. I don't know, like swimming in liquid sunshine."

"Liquid sunshine," Rodney repeated slowly.

"Okay, what would you call it?"

"Well, I certainly don't get a warm-air massage," Rodney declared, then he closed his eyes in thought. "Nope. No tingling. It's more like I know the city's there. Not a hum, but a distant sense of power-" He opened his eyes. "...if I concentrate. That's a far cry from being 'told' something."

John hardened his voice. "Jumpers can be piloted manually, but they can sense thoughts ~ in combat, it's a time saver, if I want to go dark or fire a drone. Atlantis does the same thing, responding to a thought. That is not conversation."

"Did you ever try?"

John employed the deadpan stare. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I tried asking about ZPMs. I got a vague feeling I should visit the main power room. Look, if she spoke English I'd ask her for the index to the Database or the manual for Jumper production!"

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe all this time you should've been learning Ancient so she could understand you," Rodney offered helpfully. "...or you could understand her. On the other hand," he mused, "if every Ancient could communicate with the city, it would be counterproductive if there were conflicting requests. Or, maybe it's a link that's only allowed certain people, like the ones who operate the Chair. You felt you should go to the ZedPM room, so she was sending you a message, so-"

"McKay!"

Rodney jerked to a halt, mid-sentence, and refocused on the original topic. "So, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure." John rubbed a hand down over his mouth and chin. "The hum isn't...musical. The feel is more discordant."

"So, you're getting some bad vibes?" Only McKay could say it with a straight face, be snarky and absolutely earnest at the same time. "How long has this been going on?"

"A while. Maybe weeks." John shook his head. "I haven't been paying attention. Things have been so crazy lately, even before we left Lantea. And since then..." He didn't need to explain. "I thought the problem was lack of sleep."

"Have you told Keller?"

"Told her what, Rodney? That I wake up thinking about Carson? Or Elizabeth? I'm sure I'm not the only one..."

Rodney paused before saying quietly, "It's not your fault."

McKay meant well, John knew, but he couldn't understand. Maybe not John's fault, but certainly his responsibility...and on his watch. Two friends, like family. Civilians. It shouldn't have happened. And in both cases, 'if' ~ if only he'd gone fishing, if only he hadn't gone back to reactivate the Wraith command.

John returned to the business at hand. "So, you think you can check under the hood, kick the tires, look her over?"

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"How's it going?" Rodney asked when John entered the lab.

"New neighborhood. Lotta visits. We'll have to invite our allies to a house-warming party when we've unpacked the dishes." John nodded toward the computer. "You got anything?"

"As you know, Zelenka and I assigned teams to perform on-site inspections as well as to run diagnostics. We've spent nearly three days going over every system and unless there's a barnacle on the East Pier, we can't find anything wrong."

John took a deep breath and frowned.

"Are you sure?" Rodney's question was a request for further information, not an expression of doubt.

"It's like I'm flying and the Pave's not responsive." John observed Rodney's blank stare. "I can't explain it."

"Maybe things are out of tune because you need sleep. Keller could give you something..."

"...Yeah. Maybe."

"I hear preparations for the Feast are underway," Rodney commented with an awkward excitement. Small talk wasn't his forte, but John appreciated the attempt to change the subject. "Teyla says the Roos wine is nearly ready."

"New Athos." John smiled crookedly. "New Lantea. New England. We're not a very imaginative species. New York, New Hampshire. If the Colonies hadn't already had a population with their own place names, there'd probably be the New Rhine river running through Pennsylvania instead of the Monongahela."

"What?"

"Nothing. I've been thinking of Ford lately. How he always wanted to name things. Every shrub and critter we found on the mainland, even Lantea herself ~ 'Atlantica'. When he and I first saw the mainland..." John trailed off in thought.

Rodney looked worried and uncomfortable. "I still think you should see Keller. You look like you could use the sleep."

John straightened up tiredly. "Gee, thanks, Rodney."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The infirmary was never where John wanted to be; he spent far too much time within its muted walls because he or a member of his team or one of his command had been injured. He looked around the open space and realized he was searching for someone and he closed his eyes against memory ~ the first Tandul Feast a few months after their arrival on Lantea and the subsequent full infirmary due to Expedition members' unfamiliarity with Roos wine, picnics on the mainland when the varli fruit was ripe and the Scots recipe for 'medicinal spirits' produced in the medical lab, fishing off the- Fishing. He should have gone fishing...

"Colonel Sheppard. I didn't know you were here."

John turned to find Dr. Keller approaching him, datapad in hand. She was fairly new to Atlantis and competent, but seemed out of her element; she'd never been outside the city, never even ventured to the mainland in the months she spent on Lantea.

"Actually, I was going to tell you to come at your convenience," she continued. "I have the results from your physical."

Hesitation underscored her tone and John prepared for bad news; something must have shown in his face.

"There's nothing alarming," she raced to assure him, "but some of the values do indicate the stress you mentioned. Extended periods of anxiety and insufficient rest will create problems. I can give you something to help you sleep, but I think you should see Dr. Heightmeyer," she finished firmly.

John tried to tone down his stare. "Is that a prescription?"

"Let's say from me it's a recommendation, but when Colonel Carter gets here, it'll be an order."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"I thought you were going to take it easy," greeted Rodney as John ambled into the lab. McKay sat up and frowned.

John eased a hip against the bench and rubbed fingers across his brow. "We're still handing out house-warming invitations."

"Normal people are in bed at this hour."

"Which is why you're still up?"

Rodney overlooked the remark. "What did Keller say?"

"That I should see Heightmeyer." John crooked a smile when Rodney's eyebrows rose. "It's not unexpected, Rodney. Counseling's required after missions go sidewise, not to mention routine psych evals to look for burnout. I would have gone earlier, but things have been so..." He frowned a smirk. "Why the look? You talk to Heightmeyer fairly often, the way you tell it."

"I was only wondering if you were going to go."

"Like I said, I would've talked to her earlier." John shrugged. "Can't hurt. So, what did you want to see me about?"

"Because of your Spidey Sense and obvious close ties to the city, I did some tests of my own." Rodney shifted on his seat. "The good news is we're not sinking. The bad news is I can't find anything wrong. All diagnostics are clear."

"Instruments won't tell you everything," John countered. "Sometimes you just have to close your eyes and listen."

"Is Atlantis still trying to please you?"

John grimaced in exasperation at Rodney's phrasing. "Let's say she's...sluggish. It's like she wants to-" He shook his head. "I can't explain it. She's not handling well."

"Um, yes, well, maybe the problem isn't Atlantis, so maybe seeing Heightmeyer will help," Rodney suggested hopefully.

"And maybe I'll get some sleep if I choose to use the couch." A brief smile appeared at the corner of John's mouth. "We go back on regular mission schedules day after tomorrow." John straightened up and patted Rodney on the arm before he left.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

It had been a good trip ~ good to see friends again, and good to spend time somewhere reestablishing a sense of normalcy, whatever passed for normal in Pegasus. The sun was warm and John wished he hadn't forgotten his aviators; he squinted into the distance to lessen the headache as he approached the Gate.

Teyla and Ronon walked beside him in silence. They were worried, he knew. McKay, too. Meals had been quiet in deference to his own inappetence and lack of contribution to the discourse. Rodney's saying little only made things more awkward.

Teyla stepped to the DHD and began the dialing sequence. John realized he was almost steeling himself against returning. He had a feeling he couldn't shake, something he couldn't define, a kind of anxiety, like visiting his grandmother and being welcomed with love, affection, gladness, joy and that little hint of patience and forgiveness that as a small male child he kept forgetting to put down the toilet seat.

John emerged from the puddle and the transition from bright blue sky to the dim sparkling of the Gate Room brought more headache, not relief. Contrast between the hot sun and the cool shadows of Atlantis made him almost dizzy. He shivered and took shallow breaths and had a fleeting thought that he was glad he'd accepted their hosts' hospitality and had eaten on the planet because dinner was a no-go for that night.

Normalcy. Tomorrow they'd return to exploratory missions instead of contacting old allies. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe the problem was too much looking back. Trying to avoid thinking about recent events felt like living in the past.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"It's not unexpected, Colonel. We want to remember those we've lost," Dr. Kate Heightmeyer responded with professional concern. "Thinking of an earlier time is a way of keeping them with us."

'An earlier time'. John rolled the phrase around in his mind while he considered 'the good ol' days'...when they were all still alive. He couldn't help thinking of those first steps in Atlantis, when every Expedition member was filled with hope and the excitement of discovery and the city had seemed to welcome them.

"We've all been through a lot lately," Heightmeyer prompted.

They'd had no way of knowing what was coming. John closed his eyes to shut out the light that was aggravating his headache. Was it all just a desire to turn back the clock, before any mistakes had been made or lives had been lost?

"We each need time to understand what has happened."

Time. Time was always the enemy. With an infinite amount of time all problems could be solved, all solutions could be found. With more time could they have saved Elizabeth? There was never enough time.

"Ronon reported she ordered you to leave."

"It wasn't her call."

"But it was her choice." Heightmeyer paused, then asked gently, "What would you have done in her place?"

He'd been over this. Over and over it in his own mind, and with McKay and Ronon and Teyla. He'd known the consequences when he'd first ordered Rodney not to reactivate her nanites, then when he'd ordered the installment of the kill-command, and finally when he'd ordered Rodney to implement it. He'd known what it all might come down to when they first proposed the mission to the Asuran homeworld ~ and she'd known, too. It didn't make it easier to accept her choice or her loss. Or stop him from wishing there'd been some other way.

If their positions had been reversed, he'd have done the same thing. She'd done it to save Atlantis, and on a larger scale, to save Pegasus. If the Wraith and Replicators remained at war there'd be only one enemy in the end.

John was hoping the Wraith would be the victors because he could see waging a conventional war ~ Wraith could be defeated, with enough firepower and successful tactics, but he couldn't see a way to reason with or fight against a machine. He supposed, given enough time, Rodney would find even that solution.

In the interim they would reconnect with allies, form new alliances and continue to build an infrastructure among the human worlds. They still had to settle on their new planet...and find a way to come to terms and move on after recent events.

John hoped 'New Lantea' would be as safe a haven as Lantea had been. Atlantis had been secure on Lantea for millennia and it had been their home until they'd unknowingly alerted an enemy. His stomach roiled when he considered their possible vulnerability and he smiled inwardly at telling Rodney he'd use the couch ~ it probably was a good thing he was lying down.

"I've read your mission reports, Colonel, and those of your teammates, going back several months, including your brief reassignment to the SGC."

He didn't miss Earth. Not really. There was nowhere on Earth as welcoming as Atlantis. He'd had a similar sense of 'connection' when he'd first sat in the Chair in Antarctica and had been asked to think about Earth. He could sense where he was in the grand scheme of things ~ a tiny speck on a small blue dot in the solar system. On Lantea he was still a speck on a different blue dot in a different solar system. And now... They hadn't had the time to check out the mainland personally to familiarize themselves with their new home; the information in the Database was all they had to make their selection. John wondered about the possibility of surfing, what the sand and shore were like, if there would be a nice spot for camping...and maybe even fishing.

"As I understand the report, he locked you out."

Carson had gambled that he could save his patient and himself. John understood that gamble ~ when the possible reward was so great, one had to take the risk, and believe fiercely in any chance of success. The only time he knew he wouldn't survive was the nuke trip into the hiveship. Yet here he still was. The Sheppard Luck. But time did run out...had run out.

"It's natural to want to forget painful things, Colonel."

"I should have gone fishing."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John approached his team at breakfast with what felt like the remnants of a hangover...that had lasted for weeks. They were waiting for him and only McKay was still eating.

"Hey, sleepyhead!" Rodney peered closely at his friend as John sat down. "We were hoping you'd cozily slept in, but judging by that shade of green you're wearing, I'll say that's a no. Are you sure you should even be out of bed?"

"John?" Teyla was clearly worried. "Are you still not sleeping well?" She studied the glass of milk on John's tray and a small mug of tea, not coffee, he'd added at the last moment. "Did you see Dr. Keller about your headache?"

"Or maybe an ulcer?" Rodney inserted, glancing from the two items on John's tray to his own still-laden plates. McKay spooned cereal into his mouth and chewed with gusto.

John took a deep breath and looked around the table. "Things have been hectic lately, and yes, I had a bad night."

"You had a 'bad night'?" Rodney munched. "You look worse this morning than you did at dinner...and you hardly ate anything then, either. Are you sure you want to go out today?"

"He's right, Sheppard," Ronon agreed. "We can wait."

John poured milk into the tea and took a small sip of the warm liquid, closing his eyes to hold back nausea. "I'll be fine."

"No, seriously, I can use an extra day working on tabulating data on the Replicators and Wraith and I'm sure Teyla and Ronon have things they can do without you...?" Rodney glanced between his two teammates and waited for corroboration.

"We need to get back out there," John declared. "New planet, new neighborhood. We need to check out the neighbors."

"Perhaps when you are out in the fresh air..." Teyla offered doubtfully. "You have enjoyed our recent visits to friends."

"P2A-244 has a spacegate," Rodney countered, pausing with a forkful of food at his lips. "And who says they're friendly?"

"We have to touch down sometime, McKay." Ronon stood and waited until Rodney began chewing before swatting the man on the back. "C'mon, McKay. Leave some for everybody else."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

An hour later John walked to the Jumper, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. When he entered the rear he slowed. The few steps up the ramp required steel determination ~ he felt as if the little ship were warning him, not welcoming him. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his headache.

Rodney was performing his usual equipment checks and talking non-stop, requiring little input from anyone. John gingerly sat in the pilot seat and began his own equipment checks. Minutes later the system automatically lowered the Jumper into the Gate Room. All John needed was to get through the Gate...

John closed his eyes and urged the ship forward. As they emerged in space he was assailed by an impossible wave of motion sickness and he swallowed hard against nausea, vertigo and a pounding headache. He clenched his teeth and took short, shallow breaths. "Rodney, you take the controls," he gritted quietly. In slow motion he stood, turned, and step by step moved toward the rear compartment. Silence surrounded him. He'd had a brief glimpse of Rodney's open-mouthed gawk and he saw Teyla's worry as he shuffled past her. He grabbed the bulkhead and slid to his knees and was glad he'd eaten so little breakfast when it came back up. He barely heard the voices in the cockpit.

"Sheppard!" ~ "John!?" ~ "Right, right. I can do this."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"So, what's wrong with him?" Rodney demanded of Keller.

The doctor was making notes on the tablet in her hand while she examined the data on the monitors next to the colonel's bed. She responded without looking up. "He's dehydrated, and showing expected signs of increased stress and lack of sleep. There's some unusual brain activity, but nothing that would create the symptoms he's displaying." She raised her head to address the three concerned friends. "I don't know why he's unconscious."

"We are all upset by recent losses, but I do not believe that is overwhelming him," Teyla offered from the bedside. "John is a leader and he is not new to the burden of command. And this cannot be an illness," she insisted, "because he is fine when he is not in the city. He has met with our friends and allies, played with their children, eaten at their tables, even slept in the sun on more than one world." She looked across the bed at Ronon.

"She's right. Sheppard was good when we were away."

Rodney studied his teammates. "There was never any trouble offworld before today?" At their confirmation he snapped his fingers repeatedly and frowned in concentration. "He's been shrugging it off because we couldn't find it, but he knew something was wrong." Rodney peeled his laptop from his vest-back; the teammates still wore their mission gear, having rushed directly from the Jumper Bay. "If there really is something wrong with Atlantis, we better figure it out before we end up on the bottom of the ocean." He opened the computer on the bed and started to type. "So, Atlantis, Jumpers..." he mumbled.

All activity around the bed halted when Sheppard shifted his head in nervous jerks. After a quiet murmur he groggily opened his eyes. "Hey, guys. Wha' happen'd? Ev'rythin' okay?"

"We're still not sinking," Rodney replied. "The bad news is you're sick only when you're in Atlantis. Or in a Jumper."

"Like I'm allergic...to Ancient tech?" Sheppard swallowed roughly. "Come t' think of it, I do feel a bit green."

"It is a new planet, so perhaps there is something in the atmosphere that does not agree with you," Teyla suggested.

"That wouldn't explain being sick in the Jumper," Rodney argued. "Jumper. Ancient tech." He looked down. "Did you have any Ancient tech with you on the recent missions?"

"LSD," Sheppard slurred, moving his head in a jittery way.

"The connection has to be closer to Atlantis," Rodney stated.

"We should take him away," Teyla said, her gaze on Sheppard's restless form. "He is better when he is not in the city."

"At least give you time to figure it out," Ronon added.

"That might help if-" Rodney began, but Sheppard's eyelids fluttered wildly, then he was thrashing violently in the bed.

"No! No! Listen to the pitch! The rotor's gonna fail!"

Ronon hurriedly gripped Sheppard's shoulders while Teyla kept his arm still to prevent dislodgment of the IV and Rodney tried to hold onto the colonel's ankles. Keller rushed to the drug cabinet for "something to calm him down," she explained.

"Drugging him won't solve it!" Rodney snapped at her, then he looked at his teammates. "It's Atlantis! He's picking up the signal, but we haven't understood the message! The key has to be something he told us, something he said. Think!"

Teyla looked at Ronon, then tapped her earbud. "Kate, this is Teyla. Please come to the infirmary immediately. Hurry!"

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"What did he talk about?!" Rodney shouted at Kate Heightmeyer when she rushed into the infirmary and came to a dead stop at his angry inquiry. "Look, you're not going to be giving away any secrets here. Do you think we don't know what he's been going through?" He paused briefly before continuing, frustrated by her slowness to speak. "I'll make it easy for you. He's not sleeping well. In fact, hardly at all. He wakes up thinking about Carson, Elizabeth, Ford, about the past. He knows it's not his fault, but he always thinks he should have found a way to stop it, so it's his fault. And it's not. He knows it. He's had dizzy spells, headaches, nausea. What else did he say to you?"

Heightmeyer was preparing a cautious reply when the colonel suddenly kicked and pulled at the bed covers and mumbled frantically, "Too high! Go down, down! The air's too thin!"

Rodney tore his gaze from his teammate's agitation and confronted the doctor again. "What did he say to you?!"

Heightmeyer looked to Dr. Keller before answering, as if for support regarding patient confidentiality. "Most of what we discussed is what you mentioned. He's been feeling ill, which I'm sure Dr. Keller will explain is not unusual for someone who isn't sleeping and is under pressure. For lack of a better term, he's been 'homesick', he called it."

"He wants to leave Atlantis?" Rodney was miffed.

Heightmeyer smiled slightly and studied the worried expressions of her audience. "No, not for Earth. He called it 'the good ol' days', when we first arrived on Lantea, and, as he put it, everyone was still alive. He has an anxiety he can't name, a sense of having done something wrong or forgotten something or having disappointed someone. He naturally associates this with recent losses and the decisions he was forced to make."

Rodney looked at his teammates. "He said Atlantis was sluggish and not handling well. He knew something was wrong but he couldn't name it. He likened it to his helicopter not responding to controls." He stepped to his computer, but continued to look at his friends. "He talked about Ford's names for things, and how he did a better job of landing the city on this planet than I did the Jumper when he gave me that lesson on Lantea's mainland and I mowed down trees and landed in a bog."

Ronon uncrossed his arms and straightened. "He wanted to know, after years of running, did I feel any sentiment toward anywhere, had I felt it for Lantea, and now this new world."

Rodney looked questioningly at Teyla.

"We talked about New Lantea's differences from Lantea and our impressions ~ the Athosians and the Expedition members ~ when we came to Atlantis and our first shared Tandul Feast, and how Carson was so glad to find a source for freshwater fish once my people had moved to the mainland and how Elizabeth was so mad that she was allergic to Lantea's halnesea flower because it smelled like vanilla and she missed sugar cookies."

Rodney stared into the distance as he recited terms. "Sluggish, good old days, forgetting something, homesick, arrival, first impressions, New Lantea and Lantea, the mainland, Ford, Carson, Elizabeth. Mainland. Lantea and New Lantea! First impressions!" He bent over the computer. "We thought Sheppard wasn't handling grief, but it's not the past or who's been lost that he's seeing, it's Lantea! He's seeing images of us all on Lantea, when we first arrived! Contrasted with now. We're on a new planet, newly arrived. We need to re-orient her systems."

Ronon asked angrily, "McKay, what are you talking about?"

"Pretend you're standing on your head."

"McKay!"

Rodney jerked and looked up from his computer, then went back to typing. "If you were standing on your head and you had a medical exam, everything would work, wouldn't it? Some results would be off, but if the doctor didn't know you were actually upside-down, he wouldn't find anything very wrong." He tapped a finger on the screen, then went back to typing and explaining. "And, the longer you were upside-down, the worse you'd feel. Medical complications." He touched the screen again. "Atlantis has been standing on her head. We have to tune her internal systems to her new orientation in space."

"You said the Gate could not function without a known location," Teyla argued. "How could we be using the Gate if Atlantis is not oriented correctly in the new location?" she demanded.

"The Gate is the Gate. If you were standing on your head and I asked you to tell me exactly where your hand is so I could toss you a ball, you'd say your hand was so-high off the ground and so-far from that wall or this wall and I'd toss the ball. Being upside-down has nothing to do with the location of your hand."

Rodney tapped the final key and looked to the head of the bed. Sheppard stilled and relaxed into slumber.

"Whatever you did worked," Keller stated. She looked up from the monitors. "He's in normal sleep."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John woke to the comforting hum at the back of his mind and the clicking sound of Rodney's typing, plus Ronon's grumbling about McKay's making noise and Teyla's moderating between the two. Normalcy. It felt like...home. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, sleepyhead," Rodney greeted.

John felt Ronon's 'welcome back' tap on his foot.

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla asked.

John took a moment for assessment. "Worn out," he replied, "but better," and he watched the relieved smiles bloom on his friends' faces. "So, what was wrong and how did you fix it?"

"Basically you were suffering from extreme jet lag." Rodney bobbed on his toes and grinned smugly at his teammate. John blanked his features into a stare and McKay hastily continued. "You were right that something was wrong. Too bad you aren't an Ancient or you'd have known the problem by understanding the signal clearly. You haven't been able to sleep in Atlantis because that's when you were picking up her...distress."

"Atlantis was sending me dreams?"

"Well, remember the ZedPM feeling about the main power room? You were getting a feeling, but you're ten-thousand years removed from being an Ancient so the message was garbled, plus it was being misinterpreted in the aftermath of what we've been through lately. 'Course it would be helpful to have manuals, but the Ancients weren't big on instructions, as we know. Anyway, since we couldn't find anything physically wrong with Atlantis, I went looking for something, well, mentally wrong."

John frowned in recall. "I've been feeling sort of...disconnected lately, as if I've lost my feel for how things fit together in the overall picture. And kinda homesick." He refocused on Rodney. "Atlantis wants to go back to Lantea?"

"Not quite. The Gate was back on the grid but Atlantis was not adjusted for being on a new planet. Her systems were tuned with her place of origin being Lantea. New Lantea is a different location, slightly different mass, length of days, et cetera. Atlantis was 'getting dizzy', recalculating everything with her bearings still back on Lantea. Which means she was operating as her own remote satellite station. Jet lag. And Jumpers communicate with Atlantis to receive their bearings, so, super jet lag. We sort of pushed the trip mileage on the odometer and we're back to zero."

"So, the sleeplessness, the anxiety...?" John questioned.

"Yes, well, something was wrong and you were picking up on the 'bad vibes' mostly in your sleep, which is when you're most receptive. You know, you're probably the only guy with any inkling what morning sickness is like," Rodney smirked.

John frowned. "Why didn't the diagnostics find it?"

"There was nothing physically wrong with Atlantis. Everything was working fine. Running a diagnostic on your watch won't tell you it's set for the wrong time zone."

John closed his eyes. "Sometimes you just have to listen to your ride." He cleared his throat and looked at his team. "So, I was thinkin'... We haven't seen much of this new planet, haven't checked out the mainland. Whaddya say we do a bit of recon, maybe an overnight, some camping, maybe a little fishing..."

Ronon had risen to his feet when John woke. He nodded and uncrossed his arms and sat back down, placing his boot heels on the edge of the bed. Teyla smiled in understanding and squeezed John's arm. McKay wore a look of apprehension.

"As long as we don't have to eat what we catch." *~*