Author's Note: Ian doesn't know everything that goes on at the SGC, yet, so bear that in mind. He hasn't seen the Stargate for instance, and he doesn't know about the space traveling stuff. He just knows it's a secret base with a lot of new technology. (Of the three roommates, Shawn's the only one who knows about the gate and what it does.)

OOOOOOO

He was barely asleep when the attack came. Only it wasn't the same kind of attack that he'd become familiar with. One moment he was drifting off, just on the other side of being asleep, and the next minute he felt what could only be called a Presence with him. Of course, the only kind of invisible people he knew of were the ones that chased him pretty much every night through his nightmares, so Ian understandably thought it was just a new kind of trick – and struggled to wake up as soon as he became aware that he wasn't alone.

The Presence took hold of him, though, and held him – physically and mentally – but before Ian could really start to panic under this assault, he felt washed in a warmth that was almost like the sensation of peeing the bed, only completely surrounding him, riddled through with love and caring that was beyond anything he'd ever felt before.

"Easy..."

The voice was deep – masculine – and compassionate enough that Ian knew there was no malice in it. Another thing to separate it from his nightmares. But it still held him so tightly that he couldn't force himself awake – and that was scary.

"I need you asleep right now, Ian. Try to be calm. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yeah...?" He couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice. "Why doesn't that make me feel any better?"

He struggled, again, but there was no give in the grip that it had on him.

"Easy..."

"Stop saying that!"

He was scared – and that translated into anger.

The Presence soothed him once more, sending reassurance coursing through him. Ian felt it, but he couldn't help but think it was a trick – and he resisted as much as he could. He'd had too many invisible visitors lately to be soothed.

"You need to listen to me," The voice told him.

"You need to let me go," he countered.

"When I've finished –"

"Finished?" He struggled again, stubbornly. "Finished what? Chasing me? Shooting me? Terrorizing-"

"Stop."

The Presence gave him a mental slap – it didn't hurt, but it cut off his tirade in mid-sentence.

"These nightmares of yours are becoming a problem..."

"No shit." He didn't even ask how whatever it was knew he was having nightmares. He was pretty much convinced that he was somehow having the conversation with his superego – although he hadn't quite figured out how he was forcing himself to hold still. "You try living through them every fucking night..."

There was compassion in the voice when it spoke next, and Ian thought that maybe it understood how he felt – had maybe seen the nightmares and knew what they were doing to him. But he held back from it, not allowing it to get too close, holding himself aloof.

"I can keep you from having them –"

"Then do it!"

"Only here... where I can reach you easily."

"Here? In my mind? Or in-"

"In this house."

Ian frowned, realizing that something wasn't right – of course, he was having a conversation with himself, and how right could that be? – but he caught the qualifier.

"What are you?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Oh, well that's a great answer. Thanks for all the fucking help..."

Okay, he needed to wake up. This dream was just getting weirder and weirder and he was ready to leave.

"You need to tell someone about them. It's not as bad as you think it-"

"It's pretty fucking bad!" He shouted. "Don't you get it?"

Again he felt that reassurance, and compassion, and again he longed for it, but held himself away from it. He wasn't able to trust anything he couldn't see – invisible was the same as terrifying as far as Ian was concerned – even if it came cloaked in loving care.

"You can trust me."

"You won't even tell me who you are."

"I can't."

"If you're not going to chase me, then let me go..."

There was a sigh in his head – a purely mental sigh that held about as much frustration as Ian had ever heard. Then he heard a feminine voice in his head as well, joining the male.

"Let him go..."

"But-"

"He's too afraid to listen, and you're only frightening him more by holding him so-"

"I'm not frightened," Ian interrupted. Of course, he was, but they didn't need to know that.

There was a moment when he felt true amusement – from the male and the female – and then suddenly he felt himself being released from whatever had him, and he jerked himself awake, rolling completely out of his bed with the action and falling hard on the floor with a soft thump.

Looking around wildly, Ian didn't feel any of the panic he normally felt after a nightmare, and realized that whatever the hell that had been, it wasn't exactly the same as his usual run of the mill nightmare.

He staggered to his feet and turned on the light, then went over and sat on one of the stools by the work table that Sam's doohickeys were all neatly stacked on, and he buried his head in his hands, his mind going back through the conversation he'd just had over and over.

What the hell had that been all about?