“Carson?” John whispered, rolling over to face the still-sleeping doctor. “Wake up.” He ran one tentative hand down Carson’s back, sensing that his lover wasn’t quite as unhappy as he’d been the night before.

“Go ‘way,” Carson grumbled, pulling a blanket up and over his head. “Sleepy.”

“It’s morning,” John muttered as he levered himself upright. “I take it you’re feeling better today?”

Carson took a moment to debate whether to go back to sleep or go to work and do something nobody cared about anyway. Duty won out over comfort, though by the slimmest of margins, so he got out of bed. “I think so.”

“What was it?” John inquired, tossing some fruit at Carson as he rummaged through their meager food supplies. He reminded himself to stop by the mess hall at some point to restock.

“Let myself think too much,” Carson said, shrugging slightly. “Nothing, really. I don’t miss being human.”

John didn’t say anything as Carson left, staying silent as he wondered when he’d stopped caring about that little fact himself.

•••

Rodney glanced around their makeshift meeting space and made a mental note to go through the city’s blueprints for a better room. When it was just the team, or his pick of the scientists, the room Elizabeth had set aside worked fine. However, when Dr. Weir called upon the entire science staff to report, they ended up standing in neat rows like a Greek chorus. All they lacked were caricature masks and drapery for robes.

“Thank you all for arriving in a timely manner,” Dr. Weir began, positioning herself in front of the accumulated scientists. There had to be at least fifty PhDs in the room but no one could figure out how to get them all chairs. Rodney was not impressed by anyone’s genius right now, even his own. The urge to change forms and settle on the floor as dust was strong and Rodney forcefully tamped it down.

“We’ve got several items on the agenda, starting with an update on the Ancient translation,” She continued, looking pointedly at the linguists.

Rodney glared at the suddenly clucking group of linguists. “Did you finish it?” He snapped irritably. “Or are you still trying to decide on verb tenses? It’s not a difficult question to answer.”

Weir glared at him briefly, but his statement managed to galvanize the linguists. “The translation is finished,” One said firmly. “We were simply discussing what format to save it in to send back to Earth.”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at the linguist. “Excuse me?” Rodney growled. “Send back to Earth? To whom? They’re not answering, nitwit!”

“Dr. McKay,” Elizabeth snapped. “I’m not sure I’m following you,” She said to the linguists. “As Dr. McKay pointed out, we can’t make contact with Earth.”

The linguist smirked, which worried Rodney a lot. “Dr. McKay devised a way to send bursts of data through the ‘gate system without opening an actual wormhole,” He stated, looking smugly at Rodney. “We could put together a message and send it to Earth—and some of our ally planets in our home galaxy.”

Rodney smacked his forehead. “Right! Brilliant! After all, we only decided not to send messages to other planets using that technique because we couldn’t trust the recipients with any information regarding Atlantis! Now that we have the translation, that concern is meaningless, because Ancient might be the most dangerous thing for any of a number of our adversaries to know!”

“Or it could help Stargate Command correct whatever is keeping Earth’s stargate from functioning,” The linguist argued. “We can’t simply hoard information that could assist Earth.”

“And what you’re suggesting is transmitting the arming codes for nuclear warheads to our allies by using our enemies as relay messengers,” Rodney spat. “Am I the only person who was at any of the briefings General O’Neill gave regarding this mission?”

“I was there,” Zelenka said, nodding. “Our first duty is to people on this mission, and then to city itself. As we have discussed ad nauseum, is not in our best interests to give away potentially destructive information without being assured of identity and motivations of recipients.”

“Not to mention the resource drain you’re talking about,” Kavanagh added. “Sending a data transmission through might not use up much power, but the hours you’d have to put into building the file would be better spent working on ways to keep the city secure. Or have you forgotten that we have Wraith hovering above the planet?”

“Earth can take care of itself,” Rodney muttered. “And frankly, I’m tired of us continually turning our focus there. We have issues right here that we’re better served dealing with. For example, we don’t know everything about this city and that is one of the central goals of our mission. Why don’t you all spend your time working on that? Or maybe reading one of the epics I’m sure you’ve located in the Ancient databases?”

“Not that you’d be able to help, but we’re trying to find a way to get rid of the Wraith, which seems a little more immediate in terms of our survival,” Kavanagh said. “Hell, translating the labels on machinery is more relevant!”

The argument quickly degenerated into a squabbling battle between the hard and soft scientists, with pragmatism and survival in one corner against communication and getting home at all costs in the other. Rodney threw in a pithy comment here and there but mostly let his staff handle it, since the linguists and their buddies obviously weren’t winning.

“Enough!” Dr. Weir shouted, immediately silencing all discussion. “I did not ask you to come here for this type of display. For the time being, we will not be sending any information to Earth—or any other planet. Now, the next item on our agenda is regarding the handling of radioactive materials and the fabrication of various machinery...
</hr>
John walked past Weir’s meeting room, not bothering to stop once he heard the level of shouting inside. With people arguing that passionately over something, there was no way Rodney was escaping any time soon. Instead of collecting Rodney, John turned toward Carson’s lab, figuring the doctor could use company for supper.

When he arrived, it was to find Carson staring at a pad of paper, fiddling with a pen. “Hungry?” John inquired as he walked into the room. “I hear supper’s entirely locally grown, organic, hydroponic veggies.”

“The usual, then,” Carson muttered, turning in his chair to look up at John. “Where’s Rodney?”

“Still in the meeting,” John replied. “It sounded loud.”

“Rodney’s there. So long as someone’s willing to argue with him, it’s gonna be loud,” Carson told him. “But yes, I’m hungry.”

The walk over to the mess hall was mostly quiet and John was a touch disappointed Carson was being so introspective. Although not as garrulous as Rodney, Carson was an excellent conversationalist. At least, he far outclassed most of John’s charges. “So you’re still doing the thinking thing?” John asked as they took their seats, each with a large bowl of salad.

Carson’s grimace was answer enough. “I should stop; I’m not getting any work done,” He murmured into his glass. “It’s just...”

“You know, Rodney’s working on ways to get rid of the Wraith,” John said, changing the topic of conversation slightly. “Imagine being able to actually go somewhere on this planet again.”

“The Athosians would love that,” Carson said, “They could build their city.”

“We could practice your ‘jumper skills,” John added. “Or actually feel rain.”

“Wind?” Carson asked, smirking. “Weather, in general. Would snow stick to the shield, or get deflected?”

“You’ll have to ask Rodney,” John replied.

“Ask me what?” Rodney said as he sat down between John and Carson.

“If snow would stick to the shield,” John told him. “And I thought you were in that meeting?”

“I walked out,” Rodney stated. “It was becoming counterproductive.”

“Ouch,” Carson said, wincing. “I’m glad I wasn’t invited, then.”

“Lucky bastard,” Rodney snarked. “You know a meeting went badly when I agreed with everything Kavanagh said.”

Carson and John stared disbelievingly at Rodney, who had stopped speaking to try out his supper. “Dear god,” Carson whispered, his eyes comically wide. “What happened?”

“I won’t ruin the surprise for you,” Rodney said once he’d swallowed. “And I’m quite sure you’ll be hearing all about it tomorrow.”

“Do you have to go back this evening?” John asked curiously. “Or are you off the hook?”

“I’d rather have a sleepover with the Genii,” Rodney growled. “So no, I’ll be retiring for the evening after supper.”

“Tired, hmm,” Carson murmured, nodding. “Long day.”

Rodney’s expression turned vaguely annoyed. “Not all that tired.”

“Of course not,” John replied, laughing quietly. His laughter faded when he saw a couple of Carson’s doctors watching them from across the mess hall, but the doctors soon looked away and John put it out of his mind.

“So now that you’ve started agreeing with Kavanagh, are there any other signs of the apocalypse we should be expecting?” Carson inquired, bringing John’s attention back to the table.

Rodney shrugged and reached for his jell-o. “The usual—locusts, toads, exploding toilets.”

“Somehow I doubt exploding toilets were featured in Revelation,” John commented. “And why couldn’t the translators have just said ‘grasshoppers’?”

“Because ‘locusts’ sounds more ominous. A plague of grasshoppers could be easily mistaken as an overabundance of mint-chocolate confections,” Rodney said confidently. “And if there aren’t any exploding toilets in Revelation, there should be.”

“Why?” Carson asked curiously. “Toilets?”

“I was going to say talking toilets, but that sounded a little too strange. No one would think Armageddon was coming; they’d just think someone slipped acid into their power bars,” Rodney told him. “Are you going to eat that jell-o?”

•••

John was leading Carson and Rodney back to his room when Carson twitched and glanced back over his shoulder. “What?” John murmured, looking back himself. All he saw was a flash of shoes as someone disappeared into a distant doorway.

“Nothing,” Carson replied, scratching his head. “I must be getting paranoid; it felt like someone was watching me.”

“Unless someone was watching you,” Rodney said, “At which time it’s not paranoia at all, but rather stalking.”

“Not helping,” Carson grumbled as John opened his door. As soon as it shut, John had Carson pressed against Rodney’s chest.

Carson let his head fall back against Rodney’s shoulder and allowed four strong arms to hold him up as John’s mouth traced his jaw. For a moment, he was content to let John and Rodney do whatever they wanted.

But only for a moment.

When Carson tilted his head slightly, John followed along, not caring that the three of them were now perfectly aligned. Carson pushed forward challengingly and John shoved right back, unwilling to exert the self-control necessary to inhibit his natural aggression. What John hadn’t been counting on, however, was Carson shifting forms right as he was going forward.

Instead of urging Carson back against Rodney, John found himself in Rodney’s arms, with Carson flowing around him to re-form behind. “Much better,” Carson growled thickly, rocking his hips against John’s ass. He knew what they were thinking, could feel it with every caress. They were worried about him, frightened that he was slipping away, that he needed anchoring, centering, something. They weren’t wrong, Carson conceded, but what he needed was something he had to take.

John rested against Rodney briefly, caught up in the raw emotion he felt from both Carson’s and Rodney’s presences. Rodney was turned on, which was in and of itself a distraction for John, but Carson... The desperation and hunger that radiated off the man kept John from shifting form and challenging Carson’s assertiveness. He wasn’t willing to simply submit, but something buried beneath the shimmering surface of want gave John pause.

Rodney reached past John’s shoulder to touch Carson but when he did, Carson melted in a fleeting rush of lust and frustration. Before Rodney could jerk his hand back, both he and John were engulfed in a flurry of shifting dust and oh god Carson was inside him as Rodney drew a breath without thinking. Somehow the sense of knowing how Carson felt was that much stronger for him sliding inside Rodney, just like how it felt to pool together in their first form. John must’ve felt the same thing; his skin shuddered against Rodney’s as John gave up whatever battle he’d been fighting against Carson’s presence and simply dissolved in Rodney’s arms. After having Carson invade his senses, Rodney didn’t bother resisting John and when both men started tugging at him, urging him to change, he went with it and let his body disintegrate.

The barely-there current from Atlantis’s ventilation system was much more noticeable in this form and Carson fought against it pushing him around. He could feel John and Rodney as they slid through and with him, confusion miring down the arousal that had been building. Carson wanted them, but it had to be this way, in a form that wasn’t a vain attempt to keep hold of what they used to be. They weren’t human anymore and those bodies were just shells. This was them, their reality.

Worry began to outweigh desire and Carson wanted to scream in anger and frustration. ::This way,:: He thought furiously, slinging himself through both John and Rodney who had been trying to coalesce into solid forms. ::This is what we are!::

Rodney stopped struggling when he heard Carson, just like in the visions they’d had before. He’d thought that ability was one they hadn’t gotten in the change, but he’d heard Carson just like they’d been speaking as humans. ::Carson?:: He whisper-thought, stilling himself on the floor.

::Stay like this,:: Carson said, calming himself a little. ::Just for a while...::

John floated nearer and settled with Rodney and Carson until they were blended completely together. ::Not that I’m complaining, but you’re freaking me out, Carson.::

::Saying you’re freaked out is a complaint,:: Rodney pointed out irritably.

Carson sighed. ::You don’t like sex this way?:: He inquired of them, letting them feel the full force of his desire for them.

Rodney was awash in the presence of Carson’s emotions, lust and force and fear all mixed up and pulling the same from him. John wasn’t immune either; he tried to say something but the onrush of pleasure that blurred mental and physical boundaries effectively silenced him.

Just like before, when they had come together in their first form, climax washed away the boundaries between them—even if this time the seething ecstasy of it was tinged with despair.

John regained consciousness at the same time as Rodney and Carson, all three of them feeling muzzy and more than a little drained. ::Do I even want to know what brought that on?:: He asked, figuring if he felt as tired as he did, it was better to simply stay put and not bother shifting forms.

Carson’s sigh was almost comforting in its exasperated familiarity. ::I’m tired of feeling this way,:: He grumbled, and John and Rodney could sense the truth in his statement. ::Of trying to pretend I still feel like a human. I don’t, and I’m not bothered by it.::

This time it was Rodney who sighed, but it was out of exhaustion and impatience. ::Forgive me for being blunt, but I’m not much on existential angst at the best of times and definitely not when there are more important things to do. When we’ve actually got a few minutes to ourselves, I’d rather spend it in a more pleasant manner. Some of us are too busy for pointless navel-gazing::

John mentally cringed. ::And those of us with time on our hands and a world of data shouting at us that we’re not who we used to be get mired down thinking about it,:: Carson said quietly. ::Maybe you don’t care and aren’t bothered by not caring, but I’m disturbed by the fact that never seeing Earth again wouldn’t make me unhappy.::

::To be honest,:: Rodney replied slowly, ::I’ve been more concerned with getting Atlantis out of its current predicament.::

::I think we need sleep,:: John advised cautiously. ::And for the record, you’re both right.:: When Carson and Rodney began to protest, John gave them both strong mental nudges. ::Seriously, listen to the two of you. You’re gonna say something you’ll regret later.::

Rodney’s grumbling sounded exactly the same, no matter what the form. ::I refuse to consider you as the voice of reason,:: He muttered before shifting his fine particles around to slide underneath Carson’s.

::Oh, shut up,:: Carson griped, even as he let Rodney cushion him. ::And don’t bitch; I know you enjoyed yourself tonight.::

::Children,:: John chided sternly. ::Do I have to put you in opposite corners?::

::I’m not calling you Daddy,:: Rodney stated. ::So just go to sleep.::

::Amen,:: Carson said as John thought the lights off and darkness settled around them.

•••

Rodney really did want to spend some time talking to Carson and figuring out what the fuck was going on in his head, but Rodney’s admittedly shaky sense of duty prevailed. His staff had a rough plan for fixing the weapons satellite put together and he needed to fine-tune it before they tried to repair its systems.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, although I am never, ever wrong, but I seem to recall telling you to develop this plan sans spacewalks,” Rodney spat, glaring at Kavanagh and Grodin. “Or did I experience some sort of vivid hallucination?”

“The damaged circuitry is only accessible from outside,” Kavanagh insisted. “We went through every schematic, every blueprint. It has to be done from outside.”

“You shouldn’t have any problem, though,” Grodin assured him, “It’s simply a matter of popping in the new plates.”

Rodney stared at the man as though he’d grown extra appendages. “I shouldn’t have any problems? Again with the hallucinating, because I don’t remember volunteering to go on any spacewalks on weapons satellites positioned in front of multiple Wraith hive ships!”

Kavanagh rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, but you can do that funny thing,” He explained, waving his hands and wriggling his fingers, “It has to make doing stuff in space easier.”

“Because I’ve spent so much time trying it out,” Rodney snapped. “And I’m fairly sure everyone is equally clumsy in those damned suits.”

“You need one of those?” Grodin inquired curiously. “I mean, I thought...”

“I have a fondness for respiration, which requires levels of oxygen not found in space,” Rodney gritted out, “Thus necessitating an oxygen delivery device when strolling around weapons satellites positioned—

“Yes, yes, we know,” Zelenka muttered as he joined the group. “There is no other way, McKay. The satellite was designed with environmentally controlled interior, so we cannot compromise its integrity in order to replace damaged circuits. If we do, we cannot fix rest of satellite.”

“Let me see the plans again,” Rodney demanded, obviously not mollified.

•••

“Why did we drop the shield?” John asked as he joined Dr. Weir at the control area.

Elizabeth glanced at John before returning her focus to Zelenka’s display. “Dr. McKay is leading a team to repair the satellite.”

John blinked. “Who’s flying?” Why wasn’t he up there? He flew Rodney everywhere, on every mission. Without a second thought, John radioed Carson and told him to get to the ‘gate room.

“Sergeant Colman is flying,” Dr. Weir replied curiously, obviously wondering why Carson’s presence was needed. “They’re cloaked and the Wraith aren’t showing signs they can track the ‘jumper.”

“I should be up there,” John insisted, ignoring Weir’s unspoken question.

Dr. Weir sighed. “Major, they have a perfectly capable pilot. Is there a medical emergency I should know about?”

John’s frown deepened. “Not yet. Still—

“Everyone on that ‘jumper is capable of performing the maintenance the satellite needs,” Dr. Weir explained, “Which is why they were chosen.”

“Be quiet, if you please. Some of us are working,” Dr. Zelenka said to the bickering pair.

John said nothing, although it was clearly obvious he wasn’t happy. Rodney had practically snuck off to do this project, not telling John or Carson the particulars. It wasn’t until Weir was ordering the shield dropped so a cloaked ‘jumper could pass through that John was informed of the repair operation. When Rodney got back, though, John was going to personally, and forcefully, explain why this mission had been a bad idea.

Carson showed up a minute later, initially mystified as to why he needed to be in the ‘gate room. “Major?”

“Rodney,” John snapped, pointing at the display, “Is going to fix the satellite.”

“A mission I personally approved,” Dr. Weir said quellingly, glaring at John. “We evaluated the risks, Major.”

“Why wasn’t I consulted?” He asked sharply. “Or did I just miss the memo?”

“Is job for scientists and engineers,” Zelenka muttered. “Unless you started studying in free time.”

John wondered if he could possibly get away with strangling someone. Meanwhile, Rodney was flying out of Atlantis’s atmosphere, going on some near-suicide mission right up the Wraith’s collective nose.

At the moment, there was nothing for John to do. Dr. Zelenka was talking with Rodney about the specific repair protocols and Kavanagh was monitoring the city’s sensors. If something went wrong, they’d know about it—not that they could actually do a damned thing. By the time John had a ‘jumper out there to back them up, it would be far too late.

Yeah, Rodney was in serious trouble.

“You are approaching satellite,” Dr. Zelenka said, glancing sideways at Major Sheppard as the man stormed out of the control room.

“Not that we’d noticed,” Rodney retorted. “What are the Wraith doing?”

“Nothing,” Zelenka replied. “We have established they ignore satellite completely, and they cannot see you right now.” He wondered if he should mention the Major’s minor temper tantrum, but thought better of it. Rodney was an adult and could well handle Sheppard’s ire. Besides, it might be fun to see someone take McKay down a few notches.

When they got to the satellite, Rodney went to the back of the ‘jumper and prepared for the spacewalk portion of the mission. Meanwhile, Grodin and two of the other scientists finished the initial docking procedures and entered the satellite’s interior. Rodney felt a flash of jealousy, as he would’ve loved to explore the inside of the weapon, but instead he closed off the hatch and signaled the pilot to move around to the side of the satellite’s exterior.

“Grodin, stop gawking and start working,” Rodney murmured as he checked his radio’s transmission. He’d shifted to form a protective outer hull about himself, taking cues from their standard-issue spacewalking gear. The junction of his body and the air supply felt odd, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Once outside, that sensation was ignored in favor of the abrupt coldness of space. He’d tried to brace himself for it, but there was no way to predict just how frigid it felt. A quick change in the structure of the insulation he’d made helped the cold sensation and Rodney checked quickly to make sure he wasn’t actually damaging himself. If he couldn’t handle keeping this form, he’d have to actually put on one of those suits, and they were incredibly awkward.

“Are you in position yet?” Grodin inquired impatiently. “We’ve got the central computer booted up and we were right; the main issue is in those circuits.”

“I’m getting there,” Rodney huffed as he slowly approached a singed circuit panel. The container of crystal plates he was hauling didn’t make moving very easy, as it was bulky and awkward.

“How is the spacewalk progressing?” Dr. Weir asked Zelenka. “Is he out there?”

“McKay, report,” Zelenka ordered curtly.

“I’m busy trying not to float off into open space,” Rodney said shortly. “Other than that, everything’s peachy. Can we discuss this later, when I’m not making my first foray into astronautics?”

Zelenka’s muffled giggle was the only reply, so Rodney continued on towards the panels. Once he reached them it was only a matter of removing the covers, which he then had to tuck into the case he was carrying, and extracting the damaged circuitry.

“McKay, have you gotten to the circuits?” Grodin asked as Rodney was prepared to extract one of the crystals. “If you have, please don’t move anything.”

Rodney grimaced and snarled. “Grodin, the point of me risking my life out here is to replace these circuits. You, on the other hand, are in the relative coziness of the interior of this monstrosity.”

“Yes, but if you remove the circuits in the wrong order, we’ll lose environmental support in very sudden, catastrophic ways,” Grodin informed him, “And while you might not mind killing us that way, I should remind you that as a side effect you could blow this thing up.”

“Tell me the order,” McKay demanded.

The actual replacement process didn’t take long; Grodin would reroute a specific function and Rodney would inspect and replace certain circuits. Still, it took several hours to get every circuit replaced, including one in a panel halfway around the satellite that Rodney hadn’t been banking on needing to fix.

When Rodney got back to the ‘jumper, he slumped down onto a bench, amazed at how tired he was. It took far more effort than it should have to shift back into a semblance of normal clothing and he didn’t get finished with that until they’d docked with the satellite again and Grodin’s team was returning through the hatch.

“Are you ok?” Grodin inquired as his assistant filled in Weir and Zelenka as to the outcome of their repair work. “We’re almost back to the city, if we need to call Dr. Beckett...”

“I’m fine,” Rodney replied. “Going out there is hard work, ok? Tougher than it looks.”

“Right,” Grodin said, smirking. “So...we should be able to fire the satellite every fifteen seconds, once it’s fully charged.”

“Which won’t be until tomorrow, at the earliest,” Rodney reminded him.

The Wraith were performing one of their daily fly-bys of the city, so the ‘jumper circled around and waited for clearance before the city dropped its shields and they were allowed to return. John waited until the shield was back up before following Carson out of the ‘gate room and into Rodney’s lab. As soon as Rodney got back, things were going to get ugly fast and John knew the lab was where Rodney would go when he returned.

“That went well,” Rodney announced as he joined Zelenka and Dr. Weir, who were still studying the display of Wraith hive ships.

“We shall see,” Zelenka muttered, frowning. “Are you sure hive ships cannot fire on satellite faster than we can fire it?”

Rodney scowled at the scientist. “No, but then again I have no idea what kind of armaments Wraith hive ships have.”

“Good work, Rodney,” Dr. Weir said, smiling in that bland, diplomatic way she had. “We’re looking forward to testing out the satellite tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes,” Rodney said, waving them off as he exited for his lab. He needed food and rest, but he wanted to double check some of their repair work before he passed out from exhaustion.

When Rodney got to his lab, however, he found it already occupied by Carson and John, neither of whom looked particularly happy.