Note: I'd like to thank my friend Kevin M. and my WoW guildmate Dinowarlock for helping me with the beta-reading. Thanks guys!
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Elizabeth sat straight up in bed, a gasp escaping her lips. Every nerve was on fire, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Looking around dazed, she half expected to see flames all around her. What she did see was her room, a stream of dawn light crossing her bed.

Sighing, she rose from bed. It was the fourth night she'd had "the dream", as she began calling it. When they first began, it was hazy, as if viewing through a fog. Then they became clearer and she became an observer, watching the scene from a distant spot.

This time though, she shuddered at the memory, it was as if she was living it, as if she had been the one who exploded into flames. If this was what awaited her tonight, she wasn't sure if she wanted to sleep.

Disturbed, she quickly made her way to the shower. Setting the temperature cooler than normal, she ducked under the steady stream hoping to wash away the last of her dream.

However much she tried, the dream would not leave her. In the silent confine of her quarters there was nothing to distract her mind. Not until she was getting ready for work and concentrating hard on the list of items that needed to be done for the day did she succeed in pushing it to the back of her mind.

Dressing quickly, she grabbed her laptop and began heading out. It was when her hand was over the door sensor that she paused.

Turning around, her eyes roamed her room, a sense of having forgotten something nagging her. Her eyes fell upon the stand in the corner, her doll atop it, that the feeling momentarily intensified and subsided.

Elizabeth walked to the corner, her arm stretched out to reach for the doll. It was old, a gift from a man who had helped her during a trying time in her life. A beam of morning light illuminated the antique doll, showing off the fading blue colors of the doll's dress.

A sudden fear gripped her as she reached to touch the doll, her hand suddenly pulled back as if burned. She shook her head, trying to shake off the odd feelings. She was reaching for the doll again when her door chimed.

Sighing, she pulled her arm back and walked to the door, slightly annoyed at whoever was there. As the door slid open she was surprised to see John.

"Um...good morning Elizabeth."

"John," she nodded, "what can I do for you? You're up awfully early this morning." When he didn't answer right away but seemingly looking at everything but her, she became concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

"No! Well, maybe. Can I come in?" When she nodded, he glanced down both sides of the hallways before entering her quarters. Looking around idly, he noticed the sparse decoration. He swore her office looked more lived in.

"John?" John finally saw the weary look Elizabeth was giving him. "Oh, right," he said sheepishly. "I wanted to talk about what happened last night. You seemed so confused and..."

"Last night?" Elizabeth asked puzzled. When John nodded, she tried to think back to what happened the previous night. Nothing came to mind except for the usual routine; she worked late and went straight to bed.

"What are you talking about?"

"You mean, you don't remember?" John asked, concerned. "We talked on the balcony. You didn't seem to remember me or anything about Atlantis." He hesitated, wondering if he should continue. "You really don't remember?" Elizabeth shook her head and John sighed.

"Last night I saw you at the cafeteria balcony. You were...ah...dancing...with a doll." Elisabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn't say anything. "I know it sounds weird," he continued, "but it's true. I even have a piece of cloth from it."

He reached into his pocket and removed the fragile, faded piece of cloth. Looking at it, he saw it was yellow with age, though easy to see it would have been a pure white when it was new. He tried handing it to Elizabeth, but she wasn't looking at him. He followed her gaze to the corner. There was the same doll he had seen her with the night before.

John walked towards the doll and gently picked it up. He glanced back at Elizabeth, but she hadn't moved. Looking back to the doll, he found a small rip on the doll's underskirt. A piece was missing. He fitted the piece perfectly to the doll.

Elizabeth shook her head. It wasn't possible. She'd spent the evening in her quarters trying to get some sleep. She moved to sit on her bed, a hand rubbing her forehead, trying to stave off the headache she already felt forming.

"I don't remember anything. I finished up some paperwork then came here to sleep." She sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired.

"Sleepwalking?" John suggested. It was the only reasonable explanation he could think of. It would also explain her confusion.

"Maybe," she muttered quietly. "Simon..." she paused, trying to ignore the stab of pain the name brought, "Simon used to tell me I would get up in the middle of the night and just sit outside with Sedge. Then right before dawn I would go back to bed. I never remembered any of it." She shook her head, feeling confused and slightly embarrassed.

"Well," he said, "I guess now that that mystery is solved, ready for that mission briefing?" He paused a moment, giving her a stern look. "Then, you will be seeing Beckett. No excuses."

Elizabeth gave a weak smile and nodded. As she stood, a sudden rush of pain exploded in her head. It felt as if a massive pressure were pressing against her skull, threatening to burst open. Her hands flew to her head as her legs gave out beneath her.

She fell back onto her bed and curled into a ball. Her hands did nothing to relieve the pain in her head. Behind her eyes she saw small globs of color, swirling around her vision.

Pain was interlaced with feelings and images and thoughts that didn't seem completely her own. Some were familiar, others were not, and some seemed to overlap her own memories as if history was repeating itself in some bizarre fashion.

She was barely aware of a voice shouting her name.
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It was dark.

Empty.

Silent.

She was encased in a vast nothingness that jarred her senses. From the chaos of pain and memories to this sudden stillness was a stark contrast she wasn't prepared for.

Looking around, the entire landscape was empty. There were no walls, no sky or ceiling, just absolutely nothing except for a black floor beneath her feet.

It wasn't until she took a cautious step forward that a light began to radiate far in the distance. Fixing her eyes on the light, she took another step. Feeling space and air rush by her, she suddenly found herself looking at two large rectangular objects a little taller than herself.

The surface of each was mirror-like, but each mirror already seemed to have it's own reflection. One had a sunny backdrop, with green grass covering a hill. Far in the background, at the bottom of the hill was a small house. As she stared into it, the motion of the clouds and grass became apparent. It was like looking into a living picture.

Elizabeth walked in front of the mirror, to get a better look and was surprised to see her own reflection. Gone was her Atlantean uniform, in its place she wore a long brown skirt and simple blue bodice that laced up the front. Her hair was a bit longer and she looked about ten years younger.

She moved a hand and it was reflected perfectly in the mirror. Gazing into the mirror she saw movement behind her. Surprised, she turned around but there was nothing there, just the vast emptiness. Looking back at the mirror, she saw that people were moving up the hill behind her.

Halfway up the hill, the group stopped. A young girl, dressed similarly to her, and two older boys, in breaches and a tunic, waved to her. The eldest boy moved up the hill more, his mouth moving but no sound reached her ears.

The boy came closer and shouted again, his lips moving clearly enough for her to see. "Come, Elizabeth! Father is waiting!"

Her younger reflection smiled and spun around. Soon she was running down the hill with the group, the sound of laughter ringing through her mind.

Elizabeth stood there, gazing at the mirror, watching the retreating forms. There was no longer a reflection of her, just a picturesque landscape.

Shaking her head she moved to the second mirror. It was exactly like the first, except that it was at night. The stars and full moon the only visible light.

Again she stepped in front of the mirror and was confronted with a reflection of herself. She was dressed the same, in a skirt and bodice, but the clothing was made of much richer fabrics than before. Delicate silver jewelry adorned her pale skin.

As before, whenever she moved her reflection moved, until she saw the same group of people approach her from behind. The closer they got, the more the eldest boy began to fade away. The young girl grew older and matured, as she got closer, as did the other boy. Before they reached her, the young woman faded away.

The young man, torch in hand, shouted at her. He suddenly rushed at her angrily, but the closer he got the more rapidly he aged into an old man before he too vanished.

Confused, her eyes were drawn to a large orange blaze that suddenly appeared behind her reflection. The house at the bottom of the hill was surrounded by a group of men with torches and pitchforks. The blaze of the house lit up the night, causing shadows to dance around the burning house.

Tears began to form in her eyes and she felt an incredible sense of sadness and loss envelope her. She wiped the tears away and clutched at the pain in her chest. A cry of pain wanted to escape her, but it would not come.

The blaze died down quickly and the men vanished just as the other group had. It was then she noticed the stars above moving. The moon went through phases, rose and set with the passage of time. Her style of dress began to morph into different eras. She recognized various styles from the Renaissance, Elizabethan and Victorian ages all the way to the present.

As time slowed and stopped, she was looking at herself in a familiar red skirt and orange knit sweater. She wore a black jacket with the hood up. Her stomach lurched as she recognized the outfit from her nightmares, the one where she burns into nothing.

The reflection regarded her serenely, yet with confusion. Then the silence was broken with a single question.

"Why am I not dead?" the reflection asked her.

Orange light began filling the vast nothingness and she saw the sun beginning to rise above the horizon. Panic and pain filled her as the light kissed her skin, each ray burning away a part of her.

As it rose higher, her body began to burn faster. Her scream choked off by the flames in her throat. Just before the pain ended, she saw an ethereal glow above both mirrors.

Then the light consumed her.

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