By Enola Jones

They found him in a bar in San Francisco, steadily drowning his sorrows. They got a table and Ronon walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, jerking his head toward the table.

With a sigh that seemed to come from his toes, he nodded and got off the barstool. HIs steps were steady as he approached the table and slid into a spot beside John.

"How much have you had?" John asked.

He shook his head. "Two. Three. I'm not nearly drunk." He sniffed derisively. "This isn't anywhere near as strong as Zelenka's contraband -- or as tasty."

Rodney blinked, visibly startled. "Wait, hold on -- you know about the hooch?"

"Your 2IC is a" He sighed and leaned his head onto his hands. "I can't believe this."

Teyla lay her hand on his arm. "What can't you believe?" she asked softly.

His head snapped up and his eyes widened. "Your accent's thicker -- I heard a contraction -- you're speaking English, aren't you?"

She smiled. "I am not being translated, no. If your language is English, then yes, I'm speaking it."

"I taught her," Ronon grinned, inordinately pleased with himself.

He smiled a genuine smile at them, then it faded as he slumped and pushed up his glasses before he studied the glass in his hand again.

"What can't you believe?" John, this time.

"I can't believe this." He gestured, encompassing the room. "This is San Francisco. This is..." He dropped his voice. "This is Earth, for Heaven's sake! This is my homeworld! And......and I feel like I'm here for the first time." He shook his head. "And it's not a pleasant experience."

"The IOA giving you grief?" John asked, and Rodney snorted ,shaking his head.

"When are they not?" He spared John a smirk and glared ineffectually at Rodney. "But I can handle them. It's just...." He took a deep breath and admitted quietly, "I don't think I belong here anymore."

"We've all felt that," Rodney told him, and John nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "All of us. It's a good thing, Woolsey. Really. It just means you finally belong."

Woolsey blew the air out of his cheeks. "How did you all deal with it? What's the cure?"

"Atlantis," they all said together, then Rodney nodded. "We return to Atlantis. To where we belong."

"You don't belong here," Ronon said, "cause Atlantis is in your blood. She's in your soul. You're hers."

Woolsey looked at him, and slowly nodded. He put his drink down. "Then take me home."

"Thought you'd never ask," John smiled, and they guided him out of the bar and toward the cloaked Jumper.

They were returning their prodigal home.


Return to The Stargate: Atlantis page

Return to The Realm