After watching The Return, Parts 1 & 2, I had a lot of questions. Didn't you? As brilliantly as it was executed, there were too many questions, or at least missing scenes. So I incorporated this story into The City series. So here it is, The City Part 3: Impulse. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, however, we're just takin' a little ride together...

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Six Weeks Ago

One last look back, they left The City to those who belonged there. The Ancients had returned, and wanted the kids from Earth to stop playing in their sandbox. John Sheppard knew The City – his City – would be in good hands. But he could not shake the feeling that he should not leave. Upon the colonel's hesitation, Captain Helia gave a slight nod. The City hummed happily to him, but there was something else. He did not trust any of them, but they were the original inhabitants.

He stepped through the gate, feeling apprehensive, but optimistic. Kind of.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Weir. Welcome back to Earth." General Hank Landry's voice thundered across the 'gate room.

Steeling himself for the next step, Sheppard parted ways with the expedition leader. Elizabeth nodded sadly, and gave his arm a final squeeze. She knew what had to be done. After helping settle all things Atlantean, two hours later the colonel remembered his duffle somewhere in the 'gate room. When he returned, he found General Landry standing with another man.

"Ah, there you are, Colonel. Sergeant Siler here will escort you to your new quarters."

Sheppard's heart sank. Although he already knew what would happen as soon as he returned, the colonel still felt extreme disappointment. The SGC had an oppressive quiet that threw everything off balance. "Yessir," he said quietly, yet firmly to the spot just to the left of the general's head. He followed the silent man out of the 'gate room with heavy feet. Would he ever get used to the chain of command again?

"And, Colonel," the general said softly. "Get some rest. You look like you could use it."

"Yes, sir."

As they walked down the endless, non-descript halls of the underground facility, Sheppard kept his face blank, nodding politely to passing military and civilian personnel. He tried to forget the look on Rodney Mckay's face the day before when they said their good byes.

"It's not forever, you know," McKay had said, his countenance set in a scowl.

But the colonel had no response. None verbal anyway. He remembered trying to smile, then made his face become unreadable. It was his only defense against further questioning by the scientist. He had given McKay a polite nod, and turned on his heel to leave.

"It's not forever, Sheppard!" Rodney had called out from behind. "Look, if you need to talk to someone–"

Sheppard turned back, knowing his friend was right. However, there was nothing to talk about. The City was lost to him. To everyone. And if the remaining Ancients were kind enough, the small band of Earthlings would be able to return for a short time.

"See ya later, McKay. Drop me an email sometime."

"Here we are, sir." Sergeant Siler cut through the colonel's gloomy thoughts.

They reached his dark, windowless quarters two decks... above? Or below? The colonel had always made it a point to know exactly where he was at all times, but he was too distracted. "Um, thanks, Sergeant." Once he was alone, Sheppard stopped himself from his next action. The SGC would never replace Atlantis, and he could not nudge it for directions. And he definitely could not hide his location.

He dropped his duffle on the bed, and sat down next to it wearily. The room was spartan in furnishing, dark, and strangely comfortable. But he would have to get used to communal locker rooms and showers for the time being. Once again, a nagging headache was making itself known. The silence all around him was deafening, and the cold lighting hurt his eyes, bringing nausea. Or was Atlantis really that loud?

A knock at the door pulled him out of his ever-present melancholic thoughts. "Come in," he said in a voice quieter than he expected. To his surprise, the door swung open to reveal a tall lanky frame. "Sir!" Sheppard stood quickly at attention.

"Oh, knock it off, Sheppard." Jack O'Neill waved a dismissive hand. "At ease, or whatever." Hands in pockets, he wandered into the dimly lit room. "Not the best place to spend your day off, ya know."

Sheppard looked around the small room with a twinge of – what? Anger? Regret? "I thought you were still on Atlantis." He shrugged out of his tac vest, but left the jacket on.

"Nah," O'Neill made a face. "Someone had to give you the grand tour."

The colonel tried not to look concerned. This meant Woolsey was there to negotiate. "You're not worried about the IOA screwing everything up?" The knot in his stomach tightened as he watched the general shuffle his feet.

"Why don't you let me deal with Woolsey and the IOA. Listen," O'Neill looked Sheppard straight in the eye, trying to get behind that damned mask of indifference. "You can't stay here forever. You'll go crazy. We'll help ya find a place off-base and –" The general stopped when he saw Sheppard's face. Gotcha! "Well, not right away, of course. Get settled here first. Then I'll worry about your pasty complexion."

"Sir?" Sheppard could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"That's better," O'Neill smiled. "You just look a bit peaked, is all." He jerked his elbow toward the door. "Come on. I'll show you to your office, and we'll get some grub."

Zipping his jacket, colonel followed general out into the halls. Sheppard squinted against the bright lights; they were making him nauseous again. "An office, huh?" he asked, wondering about his assortment of files from Atlantis.

"Yeah. They're obligated to give you one when you can activate devices with your head."

Sheppard allowed a smile; anything else would send his head exploding off his neck. "So, um, what's with the lines on the floor?"

Jack O'Neill screwed up his face. "Ya know, I really don't remember anymore."

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TBC

Well, I hope this isn't sounding too cheesy.