Author's Note: I feel the need to warn you that this story has no real plot. My computer is currently down for the count, with all my work and half-finished stories in a state of limbo. I'm having withdrawal from writing, but I'm in the middle of the chapter on most of these things and can't continue until I either retrieve the stuff on the hard drive or am forced to abandon it as lost (heaven forbid). So this is a short piece just to get some writing (okay, and some whumping) out of my system. Don't forget – I warned you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or anything else that is cool (or even works right – yes, I'm bitter).

Inside Connection – Chapter 1

By Titan5

John Sheppard sat bolt upright in bed, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest as he listened. Something had awakened him, bringing him to abrupt attention, and he was pretty sure it hadn't been a nightmare. As his vision adjusted to the dark room, he could find nothing out of place.

Crawling out of bed, he shivered slightly when the cool air hit his bare skin. He'd been warm when he went to bed and had stripped down to his boxers, a decision he was now beginning to regret. Thinking the door open, he cautiously put one bare foot out in the hall and peered first to his left, and then to his right. The corridor was dark, empty, and silent. He stood listening for almost a minute before stepping back into his quarters and closing the door.

Something wasn't right. His stomach clenched in nervous dread and his heart continued to race, almost making him dizzy. John paced the room a few laps before stopping to look at the time. Almost 0200. He'd only slept about two hours, but he knew better than to try to return. Tossing and turning with worry was not his idea of a restful night. There was only one way to handle the nervous energy that made him feel like a live wire and that was to go looking for whatever was wrong. And he knew something was wrong. He felt it in his head, his heart, and every ounce of intuition he possessed.

John hurriedly dressed and checked his sidearm before sliding it into the holster hung low on his right hip. Sometimes he felt a little like a gunslinger from an old western, but he was always glad for the backup the weapon provided. The Colonel slid out of his quarters and into the dark hallway, making his way quietly to the control room. He figured that was as good a place as any to start.

The control room was relatively quiet, with soft voices floating out to him as he approached. They sounded relaxed and someone even seemed to be laughing. John wished that would make the hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck lay back down. Entering the large room, he made his way over to Bill something, the guy in charge of the night crew.

"Colonel Sheppard? You're out early . . . or is it late?" The tall man with thinning brown hair smiled at him.

John tried to relax and not sound as uneasy as he felt. "Early, I guess. Is everything okay here?"

Bill looked puzzled, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Everything is fine. Is there some problem?"

John shook his head, trying to feign nonchalance. "Oh, no, no problem. Just . . . checking on things. What about off-world teams? Anyone overdue?"

Bill smiled and seemed to relax a little. "Two teams off world right now, but they aren't due back until tomorrow. No problems here."

John nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Okay then . . . that's good." They stood in awkward silence for a moment while John tried to squelch the fear making his heart race so loudly he wondered if Bill could hear it. "Well, thanks. You guys do a good job."

Bill's eyes widened slightly before returning to normal. "Uh, thank you, sir."

John nodded before pointing awkwardly to the door. "I'll just be going, then." He rubbed his forehead against the headache starting to build as he made his way up the stairs to the jumper bay. He was so focused on the pervading feeling of wrongness that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the marine guarding the bay called to him.

"Colonel Sheppard, sir. What are you doing up at this time of night?"

John took a deep, calming breath as he looked at the young marine pulling the night shift. "Just thought I'd check up on things, make sure everyone is on their toes. See anything unusual tonight?"

The young soldier licked his lips and frowned thoughtfully. It was obvious he thought he was being checked up on. Just as well to let him think that. Maybe it really would keep him more alert when doing what was normally very boring guard duty.

"Everything is fine sir, nothing unusual." He looked at John as if waiting to be told he was wrong.

"Good," said John, hoping the marine was buying his calm act. He nodded to the soldier and continued on into the jumper bay, carefully checking each ship. When he came to Jumper One, he even lowered the hatch and looked around inside. Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied that whatever was wrong was not in the jumper bay, he closed up Jumper One and gave another slight nod to the guard as he left.

John headed for the labs next. He looked in each room, but found them all dark and empty, even Rodney's. He chuckled as he realized Rodney actually did periodically leave the room to get some sleep. Nothing seemed out of place in any of the labs. No Ancient gizmos winding up or unattended experiments flashing suspiciously.

His check of the infirmary was done quickly from the hall. He knew better than to be seen roaming the city in the middle of the night by any of Beckett's crew. The physician already gave him enough grief about his eating and sleeping habits without him adding fuel to the fire. Once he was certain there was nothing amiss, he headed for the chair room.

John stood staring down at the chair for several minutes, the sense of wrongness twisting his gut into a knot. Reaching out, he touched the chair lightly and the bad feeling increased exponentially. His headache quickly took on new proportions, making him stagger forward unsteadily until he dropped to sit on the floor.

After a few minutes, his head cleared enough that he was certain the problem was with Atlantis. He wanted to call Rodney, but he wasn't sure he should just yet. He needed more information so Rodney would have a chance at fixing the city. Looking at his watch, he realized everyone would be up soon. He could check out the problem through the chair and then catch Rodney in the mess hall for breakfast to explain what was going on.

With a firm plan in place, John stood and turned to sit in the chair. To his surprise, nothing happened until he purposely reached out with his mind. This disturbed him further since the connection was usually immediate and automatic. The chair finally activated, leaning back as it powered up.

Pain. If was like an electric current bursting through his skull to travel down his spine and out into his limbs. It was hot and paralyzing, taking his breath away and causing him to gasp. The pain raced back and forth until, at some point, he became aware of his body shaking uncontrollably, making him wonder if he was having a seizure. Lightning bolts of agony continued for what seemed like a long time, but his sense of time was gone.

oOo

"Colonel Sheppard, please respond."

When John's eyes automatically blinked, he realized they were open and the pain was gone, except for a lingering headache. His mouth was dry and tasted of blood. Licking his lips and then moving his tongue around inside his mouth, he found the swollen area where he'd apparently bitten the inside of his lower lip. He wondered absently when that had happened. Looking around, his brain finally cleared enough to register that he was sitting in the chair room.

"John, where are you? I need you to respond or we're going to start looking for you." Elizabeth's voice was beginning to sound frightened.

John lifted his hand to turn on his radio, an effort that seemed to drain all his energy. "Sheppard here," he croaked, surprised at how rough his voice sounded.

"John, thank goodness. Where are you?"

John cleared his throat, coughing for several seconds before he was able to answer. Looking at his watch, he found it was already 0700. Ignoring the question, he provided one of his own. "What's wrong? Has something happened?" The fear returned like a storm, filling him with nervous energy so that he almost jumped from the chair. "What's going on?"

"Everything's fine, Colonel," interrupted Rodney, irritation heavy in his voice. "You just disappeared and wouldn't answer our calls, so we got worried. When you disappear like that, it's usually because you're half dead somewhere."

John paced back and forth, not sure if he should head to them or call Rodney here. He had no idea what had happened, but he still felt as though something was terribly wrong. "Rodney, there's something wrong with Atlantis. I'm in the chair room and I think maybe you should come down here. Bring your computer."

There was a heavy pause before Rodney answered. "What are you doing in the chair room and what makes you think something is wrong with Atlantis? What did you do?" His tone sounded almost accusatory.

John sighed, rubbing his eyes and willing the ache to go away. "I didn't do anything. Just get down here so we can get this fixed."

After a few seconds silence, Elizabeth came back on the radio. "Rodney's gone to get his laptop and we'll meet you there in a minute. John, are you okay? And where have you been?"

"I've been here, checking on Atlantis. That's how I know something is wrong. And I'm fine."

"Okay, we're on our way."

He didn't miss the vague disbelief in Elizabeth's voice. But the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong was stronger now than ever, and his experience in the chair only confirmed that something was not right. Unable to sit still, John paced nervously for the ten minutes it took them to get there, periodically stepping out into the hall to look for their approach.

Rodney came through the door with an obvious air of authority. He began questioning John immediately, while simultaneously connecting his laptop to the links in the chair pedestal. "All right, Colonel, I need to know exactly why you think something is wrong and every single thing you've done since entering this room."

John ran his hand through his hair, trying to clear the cobwebs from his aching head. "Something woke me up earlier, this . . . feeling that something was wrong."

McKay sighed as he worked. "It's called a nightmare and, as I recall, you're quite prone to them."

John's expression tightened and his body stiffened. "It was not a nightmare, McKay. This was different. It was more . . . physical, tangible. I immediately got this very real feeling that something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I've checked on the inhabited areas of the city, but everything seemed okay."

"That's because it is." McKay paused and turned to look at John. "Please tell me this isn't one of your gut feelings." He watched John's expression sink a little and rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, it is, isn't it? I came all the way down here and left important work sitting unattended because you have a gut feeling that something is wrong. Well, that's just great."

"Rodney, give John a chance to explain," defended Elizabeth. "I'm sure there's more to it than that."

John gave a small smile to Elizabeth, thankful for her diplomatic tendencies at the moment. He was exhausted and was beginning to realize that his body felt battered and bruised. He didn't need Rodney's little tirade right now. "It's more than a gut feeling, Rodney. It's . . . it's . . . "

Rodney made a spinning motion with his hand. "Well, it's what? Spit it out, Colonel."

John stood with his mouth gaping open for a few seconds. "I don't know how to explain it. It's not like the fear of getting up on stage to speak in front of a crowd because you might make a fool of yourself. It's more like when you're already up on stage and you know something is wrong because everyone is snickering, but you haven't actually figured out that your fly is open yet."

Rodney snickered. "So, would that be a personal story, Colonel?"

"It doesn't matter," John snapped, wishing he'd skipped picking this analogy from the John Sheppard book of embarrassing moments. "The point is I can feel something is wrong."

"Do you mean through Atlantis?" asked Elizabeth.

John hesitated, half frowning and half smirking. "Sort of."

Rodney stood from his position kneeling on the floor. "I'm not showing any problems here, so define sort of."

"She's sending me mixed signals, like she's okay, but not okay."

"Oh, this is sweet," muttered Rodney.

Elizabeth cut her eyes to Rodney and then looked back at John. "All right, so what does any of this have to do with the chair room?"

John nodded, anxious to fill in the gap so they would believe him that there was a problem. "I came here to connect through the chair and see if I could find out what was wrong. I've been able to get deeper into the city from here than anywhere."

"Did you find anything?" asked Rodney.

"It hurt," said John softly.

Elizabeth frowned and stepped closer. "Excuse me?"

John shrugged one shoulder nervously, not wanting to reveal too much about what had happened. "It hurt. When I connect, it's . . . amazing, almost euphoric. It wears me out, but it's a good experience. This one was . . . not so good."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, visually checking him over. "How not so good was it? Are you okay?"

John nodded. "Yeah, it just felt wrong. Chaotic and disorienting. Something is very wrong with the city."

Rodney looked up at Sheppard from the computer screen. "When did this happen?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure exactly . . . maybe around 0530 or so."

Rodney nodded. "I'm reading an energy spike from the chair about that time and it lasted almost twenty minutes. Were you in the chair all that time?"

John swallowed, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. "Yeah."

Rodney stood and took a step toward him, obviously studying the colonel. "If even a small percentage of that energy went through you, it did a lot more than just hurt. Did you lose consciousness?"

"I'm fine, McKay," John said sharply. "Look, the reason I wanted you down here was to find out what's wrong with my city. Can you do that or not?"

Rodney sighed. "Right now, the only abnormality is the energy spike. Are you sure you didn't do anything to cause it? Send off some subconscious command for something unusual?"

"No, I just tried to link with her to find out what was happening. Then it felt like I was being hit by lightning over and over. There was never a clear, coherent connection, like she was shorting out or something."

Elizabeth closed the few feet between them and took John by the arm. "I want you to go see Carson right now. We have no way of knowing what that may have done to you."

John chuckled. "I know, it made my headache worse. I'm fine Elizabeth, I promise. I'll check with Carson later for a Tylenol or something."

"You never answered Rodney's question about losing consciousness."

Silence stretched out for several moments. "That's a yes," said Rodney.

"Carson, now. I'll even walk you there to make sure you don't get lost," said Elizabeth firmly.

John shook his head and pulled away from her grasp, the fear in his stomach moving up a notch. "No, there is still something wrong. We have to find it. It may not be showing up in the systems yet, but it's there and it's going to cause something bad."

"That gut feeling again?" asked Rodney. When John glared at him, he flinched and began disconnecting his computer. "Look, go see Carson and I'll take this data and go to the control room and start analyzing from that end, see if I can find any potential problems. If something is wrong, I'll find it."

John took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed a little. "Okay, thanks Rodney."

"It's what I do, now go."

John let Elizabeth take his arm again and guide him out of the room, even though his heart was still racing in his chest and his stomach was still tied in a knot. He mentally begged Rodney to find out what was wrong before they all had to deal with the consequences.

oOo

Carson let the blood pressure cuff slide off Sheppard's arm. "You're pressure is high and your heart is racing, Colonel. How fast did you two walk up here?"

Elizabeth, standing at the foot of the bed, crossed her arms. "Not fast, we just walked."

Carson nodded as he recorded his reading. "That's too high, then." Setting the chart down, he pulled his penlight from his coat pocket. "All right, Colonel, let's have a look." The second the light hit his face, John closed both eyes and turned away with a grunt. Carson paused only a second. "Light sensitive, too."

John turned back around, rubbing his eyelids. "I didn't get much sleep last night, doc. I just haven't adjusted to the daytime lighting yet."

Carson pursed in lips and looked at Sheppard. "Son, that doesn't explain away the symptoms you're showing. How bad is the headache?"

John shrugged his shoulders reluctantly, dreading being told he was stuck in the infirmary. He couldn't figure out what was wrong if he was stuck in a bed. "It's manageable. All I need is a couple of Tylenol and I'll be good to go."

"I don't think so, Colonel."

John felt the agitation rising, along with the feeling of dread. "Doc, something is wrong with this city. Let me find out what it is and make sure everyone is safe and then you can dote all you want. But for now, I have work to do." He slid off the bed, a wave of dizziness making him sway and killing his credibility.

"Yes, Colonel, I can see you're fine," said Carson sarcastically.

A bit steadier on his feet, John looked sternly at Carson. "Doc, I have to keep everyone safe. It's my job. Just give me some Tylenol and I'll come back later."

Carson looked at the soldier for several seconds. He walked across the room and returned a minute later with a brown pill and a cup of water. "Take this."

John's eyes widened. "The good ibuprofen?"

Carson nodded as John took the pill. "You look like you could use it. I'm letting you go on the condition that you get something to eat and go rest for a couple of hours. And let me know if it gets worse or you have any other symptoms."

"Doc, I just missed a few hours of sleep. It's not like that isn't a common occurrence around here. How many nights have you gone without any sleep?"

"Several, actually, and you've been the cause of a lot of those. But I didn't have a bad encounter with an Ancient chair that left me unconscious for an hour. Food and rest, Colonel, or you stay here."

John sighed and grimaced. "Fine, food and check with Rodney and then rest. I won't be able to sleep if I don't know what's going on."

Carson nodded, but didn't seem too happy. "All right, check with Rodney first."

John smiled and patted Carson on the shoulder. "Thanks, Carson. I'll check in with you later." Turning, he was gone in a matter of seconds.

"Is he really all right?" asked Elizabeth as the two of them watched the Colonel disappear around the corner.

Beckett sighed. "Aye, I think so. He's tired, more from the chair than from any lack of sleep. I suspect he's running on adrenalin from the way he's acting and I think that may have been going on for a while now. That worries me a bit. But I think with some rest and if we can ease his mind that Atlantis is safe, he'll be fine."

Elizabeth nodded and turned to face the doctor. "What do you think about his insistence that something is wrong, even though no one can find anything?"

"Well, the Colonel has good instincts and he does have an inside connection to the city. Maybe he's picking up on something not yet available to the sensors. On the other hand, he was rather obsessive about protecting us and the city, even for him. The Colonel takes his job as protector more seriously than anyone I've ever seen and he feels each loss personally. Stress could be affecting his judgment and perceptions."

"What do you suggest?" she asked.

"Well, I'd do everything to check up on what he's saying, but I think we should keep an extra eye on him as well. If this goes on for a while and nothing shows up, we may have to step in, try to convince him that he's overreacting."

Elizabeth frowned and looked toward the door Sheppard had exited through. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Aye, me too. It would be hard on the lad."

"Thank you Carson. Now, I didn't have time for breakfast myself this morning, so I think I'll head to the mess hall as well."

Carson grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. "You wouldn't be going to spy on the dear Colonel, would you?"

Elizabeth shook her head as she took a step toward the door. "Not at all. I'm shocked you would suggest such a thing."

Carson continued to smile as Elizabeth walked out the door. "Better watch out Colonel," he whispered.

oOo

John stopped to lean against the wall a moment, his headache growing sharp and making him dizzy. Several seconds later, the pain level lowered to something more tolerable and the world stopped spinning lazily around him. He was so full of nervous energy, when he held out his hand, it shook like that of an old man. If they didn't find the problem soon, John was pretty sure he'd literally have to climb the walls. He shuddered when that brought back memories of his partial conversion into a bug and his ability to actually climb the walls. Not going there, he thought.

John entered the mess hall and headed for the food line. When he was close, the smell of sausage and eggs almost gagged him, stirring up nausea to burn in his gut. Breathing carefully through his mouth, he grabbed a couple of pieces of toast and a banana and headed for the farthest table. He wasn't trying to be anti-social, just escape the smell. John knew he needed to eat something before he tracked down Rodney, but he also wanted it to stay put once he ate it.

John took a bite of toast and then felt Atlantis tremble. His head shot up and he looked frantically around the room, searching for a sign that someone besides him was aware of it. Everyone was calmly going about their business. John felt the shudder again, but still no one else reacted. The knot in his stomach became a large, heavy rock and a sharp pain lanced through his skull from temple to temple. Breathing through it, the pain finally eased a bit so that John took a deep breath. He looked up to find several people at the next table staring at him.

Standing so fast, he almost knocked his chair over, John left his tray where it was and hurried for the door, frantic to find Rodney. He wanted to talk to the scientist in person, though, where he could see his expressions. You could learn more from watching Rodney's face than you could ever learn listening to the man. That was how John knew when to push for a miracle.

As he went through the door, he collided with Elizabeth, knocking them both off balance. They each grabbed at the other's arm and managed to right themselves without falling.

Elizabeth gasped. "John, are you all right? You're white as a sheet."

"Gotta to," he said. "She keeps calling me."

"Who? Atlantis? What's she saying?" asked Elizabeth, genuinely mesmerized by the possibility.

"She says she needs help," John replied softly. "And I'm the only one that can."

TBC