Title: Nightmares

Rating PG-13 (I get a little descriptive)

Summary: Trance has a nightmare

Spoilers: Little ones for the episode with Trance being interrogated by Smoking Man

Disclaimer: I didn't make these people up and I am getting no money for using them.  The last thing I wrote and really owned was "Using the Unique Absorption Spectrum of Cobalt Chloride to Determine the Concentration of an Unknown Sample".  This should be more interesting for you.


Trance was on Med Deck, still looking for a cure. Holo-Rommie appeared in front of her, as calm cool, and collected as she always was. "Mr. Harper has collapsed on the Command Deck, the medicine seems to have become ineffective." Trance could feel her stomach drop into her pretty purple boots. How could Rommie just deliver news like that? So cold to the fact Harper was dying.

"He's infested. He'll have to be quarantined," sighed Dylan as he and Tyr arrived, carrying the moaning Harper and placing him the quarantine unit. Beka and Rev were close behind, Beka crying softly and Rev chanting. They vacuum sealed the doors with an ominous hiss. Leaving the engineer horribly convulsing behind the glass. He screamed, then spent several moments trying to catch his breath. No one was going to be with Harper when he died. He was experiencing his worst nightmare, being killed by Magog, and he was alone in a little glass box. Trance felt his pain, felt the Magog teeth piercing his insides. She could feel them gnawing away on his organs as they searched for freedom as well as a way to satisfy their hunger. She felt their claws, digging and pushing upwards. It was such pain, and he simply screamed until he ran out of breath, and then he gulp more air and continued screaming. She could still hear his cries, as the Magog claw appeared, tearing through the flesh of his stomach. They emerged, covered in blood and gore, Harper's blood and tissue. Dylan turned away, Beka curled up on the floor crying, Tyr nodded stoically, Harper screamed and eventually fell silent. Then Trance woke up.

She bolted upright in bed. Tears were streaming down her face and her pillow was wet with past ones. She took deep breaths and hiccupped loudly. She couldn't stay in bed after that. She jumped out of bed and got a glass of water. Looking at her purple reflection in the mirror she washed her face and dried it with a fluffy lavender towel. She still couldn't shake the feeling left by her nightmare. She padded silently down the hall. She needed to see Harper. She could still hear his screams in her head. She needed to see that Harper, alive and well and quiet.


"Trance, Harper's door is locked" Rommie informed her
"But I really need to see him!" she still had some latent hostility towards the ship for her behavior in her dream.
"Shall I wake him?" Trance thought a moment
"No"
"Then you'll. . ." Holo-Rommie didn't finish because Trance wasn't listening. The lock fell in moments under Trance's skill. The room was dark. She slipped into that darkness and found her sleeping friend.

He was in his bed, sprawled on his back with one arm flung over his eyes. He wore the same gray T-shirt and brightly colored Hawaiian shirt he had been wearing when she had seen him earlier that day. In fact, he was still dressed right down to his boots. His colorful taste in clothes sharply contrasted the bed's crisp white sheets. She crept to his side and looked down at him- he seemed fine.

She still wasn't completely convinced. Slowly she reached for the hem of his t-shirt. She lifted up the fabric and looked at his stomach. He was a thin guy, so the slightly raised lines of his rib cage framed his stomach. She traced that line with her finger. No movement, no wound, just the scars left by the Magog claws. He actually was healing surprisingly well considering his past history. It had just been a dream. Harper was all right. She put down the shirt and backed away from the bed.

She sighed and went back. Kneeling next to the bed she untied the knots in his bootlaces. She loosened the shoes and slipped them off his feet to reveal one regular and one "air conditioned" sock. She smiled and picked up a blanket from the floor. She covered him and gently took his arm away from his face. He actually looked peaceful.

She looked at his face and was yet again seized by the fear that he was going to die. He was her best friend and he was going to have his guts torn out from the inside. She could feel the tears forming and she stroked the sleeping Harper's hair. It was just as unkempt as ever, sticking up wildly between her fingers. Harper made a content mumbling sound. She smiled and let her fingers continue to play with his hair.

She did a lot of thinking as she knelt next to her sleeping friend. She thought about when they met, on the Maru. He had held an entire conversation with her from under a pipe. When he popped out and saw her for the first time she had to giggle at the surprise on his face. He had never seen anyone who looked quite like her. She remembered when she died, how angry Harper had been.

She stayed until his alarm sounded. When it did she hurried from the room, she didn't want to explain what she had been doing there. It would just be awkward, and her lack of faith in finding a cure was not something Harper needed.


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She jumped up and slipped out the door. He had been awake and watched her go. He never would have reached his current old age if he slept straight through people touching him. He had felt her lift his shirt, touch his stomach so gently, and tuck him in. It was sweet really. She'd tenderly stroked his hair and he had fallen asleep. In his life he could not remember anyone touching him tenderly. It had been a while since he'd felt so safe and comfortable as he drifted off to sleep.

His nights had often been plagued by nightmares. Since he'd been infested he dreaded sleep. He pushed himself to exhaustion working on Dylan's secret project, mostly to avoid the demons that sleep brought.

Often the dreams focused on what he had seen happen on Earth. He was back in the center of his camp after a Magog attack. He could hear the moans and feel the heat given off by burning buildings. Around him lay the infested. Moaning turning to screaming as the Magog chewed their insides. The death squad would be there soon. He could see them just up ahead, shooting the still living Magog hosts straight through their heads. The blood was plentiful and sprayed the squad members as much as the dirt. The stench of it was thick in the air. The dream usually continued with him watching his cousins die. He was helpless, it was too late to do anything other than sit with them and wait for the death squad.

Sometimes he was the one dying, that was only a little better than watching others die. Harper didn't want to die, but he wasn't afraid of death. He and Death were on a first name basis actually. He could feel them moving around inside him; feel then start to eat him from the inside out. In the dream he was never granted the mercy of passing out.

Harper rolled out of bed and got dressed for the day. Nothing was really different today, so he wasn't going to treat it any differently. Nightmares happened, people dealt with them in different ways. Personally he was going to build a few Nova bombs.

The End