Johh's sleep started out quiet and dreamless, but as the afternoon progressed, he started twitching. He jerked awake once, an unremembered dream leaving him with a sense of unease, but gave in to exhaustion within minutes.
Images and memories flitted through his head.
The wraith, hand pressed to John's chest, John paralysed, dying, dying, mouth open but silent here as he hadn't been in truth.
Evan, sex-wrecked and grinning, suddenly shrivelling, aging, fading.
John shuddered, but slept on.
The dart loomed, broken, smashed, impossible.
"You can't do this," John begged. "You have to fix it first."
Rodney stood, chin tilted imperiously. "Look, as long as I am the head of sciences I won't let a simple military guy tell me how to do my work."
"No, Rodney, wait!"
But the scientist was already pushing buttons. Suddenly, Evan stood before John.
"You're okay," John breathed, reaching out to touch, to hold him.
"Help me," Evan cried. And he dissolved, flesh melting, blood, blood running down John's arms and body, exposing white bone, fleshless skull with Evan's eyes still looking out at John, still alive.
Still alive.
John screamed.