Nightmares of a past tragedy come back to haunt a beloved character, but it's not who you think.

I'd Come For You

He felt the impact of the first bullet tear into his abdomen as it him with the force of a Mac truck – and with just as much destruction. A second later the next bullet hit his shoulder and threw him to the ground. Wounded, in pain, and winded, he lay on the cold, wet street and tried to remember where the hell he was.

His fingers touched the bullet holes. He was hit. Bad – he could tell by the size of the wounds – he should stay and wait for help to arrive – that was the logical thing to do. But he had to find Joss. Where was Joss?

Pulling himself painfully across the pavement, he reached blindly for the woman he loved and considered a friend, and called her name. But there was no answer. Where was she?

"Joss? Joss?" He heard his raspy voice call out her name, and his hands reached toward where she should be, but he couldn't find her. He saw the blood – so much blood – yet, there was no body. He was sure she had to be somewhere, but where?

In the distance, a phone rang loudly – a reminder that time was running out; he had to find her before Simmons did! Where was the help that he knew should be arriving?

"Joss? Where are you?" he cried out to the darkness. "Joss! Answer me!"

But she didn't answer. No sound but the incessant ringing of the damn telephone. He wanted to make it stop, but it continued as though it was taunting him with the answers he needed to find Joss; all he had to do was answer and let it tell him everything.

Except his body wouldn't move. No matter how much he willed his legs, they refused to do as they were told. He never felt so helpless in his life.

"John? John, where are you?" Joss' voice whispered from the darkness.

"Joss, I'm here!" he called back to the darkness. He felt a resurgence to survive!

"John...help me." Joss's voice was so weak – as though it was traveling miles to reach him.

He tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate.

"John? Where are you?"

He heard the desperation in Joss's voice, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to tell her to hold on, but when he opened his mouth, the words didn't come. What was wrong with him?!

Except for the phone ringing, he was alone in the dark. Then he heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. The sound was almost deafening. He turned his head toward the sound. Then he heard a voice that made his blood run cold.

"I told you that I would end you."

He opened his eyes to see Patrick Simmons standing over him with a gun. He tried to move. He tried to get out of the way, but he couldn't.

"You thought you could get away," Simmons taunted, his face contorting into demonic expressions to settle on a smile that matched the ice in his eyes. "Tell me where she is!"

Mutely, he shook his head.

"I'll find her, then I'll kill her! And the 'Man in The Suit' won't be able to stop me."

He met the cold, chilling stare of his executioner, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight. He might not be able to move, but would try to protect Joss any way he could.

"If that's the way you want it..."Simmons lined his target. As his eyes narrowed, he pulled the trigger.

"John! John! John!"

He heard Joss scream his name as the bullets slammed into his body one by one. He felt the white heat tear into his flesh and the blood pour out. So much blood! He tried to scream out in pain, but the life was leaving his body.

"Tell me where she is!" Simmons demanded and leveled the revolver to perfectly line with Reese's forehead.

Finally finding his voice, Reese gasped, "Go to hell!" He couldn't physically save Joss, but he wasn't going down without defying his attacker.

He heard the gun fire and watched in slow motion as the bullet exited the muzzle and traveled toward him. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

He heard his name being screamed as the bullet hit and shook his body...

"JOHN!" Joss called out – her voice just barely above a whisper. "Wake up!"

Jarred back into consciousness, Reese jumped up and out of the chair he had been occupying for his security monitoring. Immediately his hand instinctively reached for his pistol. Unsteady on his feet, he looked around the room for anything out of place. Moonlight poured thru the window into the large bedroom to cast a ghostly glow over everything. Joss looked almost ethereal.

"Where is he?" Reese's eyes darted around out of habit and years of training. He knew the bad guy was lurking somewhere in the shadows just waiting for the right moment to pounce and kill them all.

"Where is who?" Joss asked carefully.

"Simmons. He was here." Reese tried to swallow the fear that was threatening to overwhelm him.

"Simmons is dead, John." She laid her hand on the barrel of the Beretta. "It's okay," she soothed.

"He was going to kill you, Joss," Reese stated, his voice thick with fear and unshed tears.

"He's gone, John,; he's not going to hurt us anymore," she reminded gently. "Put the gun down." Feeling the fight leave his body, Reese closed his eyes and slumped his shoulders. Joss took the pistol and laid it on the table under the window.

"You're alive," he stared in amazement at the woman standing before him. He blinked a couple of times to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

"I am," she confirmed. She lifted his hand in hers and placed it on her cheek.

Reese felt his heart lurch at the feel of her flesh on his. His eyes filled with tears. Joss was alive. His thumb stroked her cheek.

"It was a bad dream, John. Just a bad dream." Joss took his hand in hers. "Come to bed," she invited and pulled him toward the King-sized bed when he hesitated.

"Joss..." he protested. He replayed her statement that she wasn't going to share a bed with him.

"It's okay. I just want to hold you. Let me hold you, John."

Taking off his shoes, Reese lay down on the mattress. Never in his life had he ever felt so helpless or alone. He willed himself not to give in to self-pity, but with each second that passed, he found himself slowly losing the fight. He knew the dream was a premonition and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He felt arm go around him. For a second he tensed up, then relaxed as Joss held him as close as she could with only one arm. Slowly he came back to reality as he felt each breath she took and she held him tight in her protective embrace.

"Go to sleep, John," Joss whispered close to his ear. "I'll be here when you wake up," she assured him.

Reese took her hand in both of his and held tight. He wanted to tell her that he was supposed to be protecting her – not the other way around, but he could feel exhaustion slowly overtake his body and mind. And his tongue was too thick with sleep to protest. He closed his eyes and felt his breathing become steadied and laboured.

"You're not alone," was the last thing he heard before he fell into a dreamless sleep.