Author's Note: lol, no. There is no hidden anti-alien message in my Taco Bell comment. Some of my favorite people are Aliens (ie Dotty and Thor)

OOOOOOOOOO

"Ian! Get up!"

They were in the stairwell. It was dark, and the only sounds were those coming from Shawn and Ian – who were both gasping for breath and trying not to so they could also listen for the sound of those who were following them. The only way they'd know they were coming was by listening for them, because they knew already they wouldn't be able to see them. Ian felt a stab of fear and tried to haul himself to his feet, forcing himself to stand on an ankle that had just been injured in the fall he'd taken.

"Get going Shawn!" He felt a surge of anger – the fucking kid was going to get himself killed as well if he stuck around waiting for him. Dumb noble little bastard. "They're-"

They both heard the noise. A shuffling sound coming from above, and they both looked up the stairs they'd just pelted down, but neither saw anything. Ian felt that fear return, wiping out his anger, wiping out everything until all he could feel was fear. How could they fight back against someone they couldn't see? How could you attack an enemy you couldn't find? He lunged to his feet, crashing into the door to the hallway. They had to escape. They had to get out of there!

A blast came from nowhere, crashing into the wall next to him, and Ian yelped and tried to dodge whatever it was, looking back over his shoulder and knowing he wasn't going to see anyone. Another blast, and this time Ian felt something slamming into him – a white hot pain that had surely killed-

"No!"

He woke, tangled in his blankets and trying to fight his way out of them. The battle only lasted a moment and Ian found himself on the floor, his t-shirt sticking to him from sweat and his head aching abominably. He looked around and found only the quiet of his room facing him. No invisible attackers. No white lightning ray guns. Nothing like that.

Still reeling from the affects of the nightmare, he staggered to his feet, feeling a slight stab of pain in the ankle that had been injured that night. It jolted him, and he looked around in fear once more. What if it hadn't been a dream?

"Oh... God..."

That voice guy was right – the nightmares were becoming a problem. If anything they were getting worse every time he had them – and he hadn't thought that was possible. He opened the door to his room, intent on getting a drink, and maybe an aspirin, and heard whining and scrabbling coming from behind Jack and Sam's closed bedroom door. Jaffer was trying to get out and couldn't.

Ignoring that, although he prayed that it wouldn't disturb their sleep, Ian staggered into the kitchen, not even noticing in his distracted state of mind that the living room light was on. He went straight to the sink and poured himself a glass of cold water, but his hand was shaking too much to lift it to his lips. He stared at it in fascination, and no little amount of disgust.

"Fucking baby..." he chided himself, mockingly.

"Ian?"

He shrieked, dropping the glass with a crash as what little equilibrium he'd managed to pull together since waking up once more shattered at the unexpected voice behind him. He whirled, and saw Sam standing there, her eyes concerned and her face as pale as he was sure his was.

"Oh, God..."

She'd heard him first. Had heard the door open to his room and had seen him walking – wobbling was closer to the actuality – to the kitchen. He'd looked pale and unfocused, and about as agitated as she'd ever seen anyone and it was a sign of just how distracted he was that he hadn't seen her drop Daniel's book and stand up as he walked by. And hadn't seen her follow him into the kitchen.

"Ian, what is it?"

He shook his head, feeling about as helpless as he could ever remember feeling. She knew. Well, no, she didn't know, but she could guess. She was smart enough to guess. She'd tell, and then everyone would know. Jack would find out, of course, and Shawn, and Hayden... everyone would know he couldn't control his own mind – and how was he going to be able to-

"Ian..."

She took a step forward, feeling her own stab of fear at the sudden look of utter vulnerability she saw in his expression. Whatever it was, it was bad.

He couldn't...

"It's..." his voice broke and he couldn't continue. He shook his head, trying to tell her he was fine. Trying to tell her to go back to bed and that he was sorry for waking her up.

But she wasn't listening.

Sam closed the gap between them, and she pulled him into her arms, reacting to the torment in his eyes and expression in the only way she could before he tried to close her out. She ignored the way he stiffened at her touch, and pulled his head down to her shoulder.

"Ian, whatever it is... it's okay. I'm here..."

He couldn't... she'd tell...

He stiffened for a moment, trying to figure out how to get himself out of this without looking like a complete tool in front of her, but his mind was a blank. All he could feel was her arms around him, her warm body against his chilled, sweaty one, and all he could hear besides the pounding in his head and heart was the comfort her voice was offering. And he broke.

All the fear; the terror of the last few months of nonstop nightmares and looking over his shoulder... all the hatred; of the bastards that had chased after him in the first place, and then of himself for not being able to handle it and get his shit together on his own... the self-loathing and exhaustion from endless sleepless nights... it all came crashing down on him at that moment, and he sagged in her arms, and started to cry.

Sam knew the moment he gave in. She could feel it, and then heard it when he started sobbing, and she clutched him tighter, holding him closely and supporting him as she held him.

"Easy..." she murmured, stroking his back with one hand while she tried to keep from being dragged down to the floor as he sagged against her completely.

And then she wasn't alone with him. Jack was there as well, his strong arms coming around both of them, supporting them. He wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but was aware that it was something that needed to happen.

"Easy..."