Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound
But no one hears me
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again
So I try to hold onto
A time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't

"Untitled"
SIMPLE PLAN

John covered in sweat and his chest heaving bolted up right in bed, his eyes darted around searching the darkness of his room for the killers that he'd been sure where there just moments before. But the room was empty just like every other time he'd woken up from a nightmare the last two weeks, since he'd been released from the infirmary.

Wiping the sweat off his face and running a hand through his hair John looked at his clock and noticed it was almost four in the morning. Thinking maybe a nice long run would help him clear his head and ware him out enough to sleep John tossed his covers aside, through on some sweat pants and a tank top, and left his room to go for a run around the lesser used areas of the city.

Spending the last two hours running hadn't helped John at all; in fact it just seemed to have made things worse. Running by himself and so early in the morning John hadn't had any thing to keep his mind from wandering back to that god awful mission two almost three weeks ago, where seven people, good innocent people, had died and even back to others who'd died like Sumner, Markham, and Gaul, as well as countless others.

He couldn't take any more, all the thoughts running through his head, the constant nightmares, they were all beginning to over whelm him. But the one thing that over whelmed him the most were the hundreds of different emotions that kept surfacing, especially the anger and despair.

Catching his reflection in the mirror, out of the corner of his eye, John turned to look at his reflection. John almost didn't recognize himself, his eyes were blood shot and had bags under them, his hair was messier than usual, he had a slight five o'clock shadow, but what really got him was the lost, broken look the eyes looking back at him held. Before he even had the chance to think about it John had put his fist through the mirror shattering it, just like he himself felt.

Elizabeth had spent the last hour or so in her office trying, unsuccessfully, to get some paper work done. A feeling that something was wrong had been nagging at her the last couple of weeks and she was positive it had something to do with John, but what she had no idea. John had seemed to be recovering just fine from his last mission, but Elizabeth just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her, or anyone else for that matter.

Deciding that she wasn't going to get anything done until she assured herself that John was fine Elizabeth left her office heading for John's quarters. It was nearly six thirty so she knew he would be up, but rather he'd be in his room or not she didn't know but figured it the best place to start looking.

The closer she got to John's quarters the larger her feeling that something was wrong grew. Since there was hardly anyone up at this hour yet, Elizabeth didn't really care that she had almost been full out sprinting by the time she got to John's quarters. Approaching the door Elizabeth was surprised when it opened for her; John almost always locked his door even when he was in his room.

Stepping inside Elizabeth was shocked at the messy state of John's room. John wasn't necessarily neat and tidy but the room was messy even by his standards. His bed hadn't been made, there were cloths thrown around everywhere, books lying all over the place, his nightstand had been knocked over, the few pictures he'd had hanging up had been knocked down, it looked almost as if the place had been ransacked. Stepping farther into the room Elizabeth's heart stopped when she spotted the pile of broken glass that had once been John's mirror, some of the pieces covered with blood.

Blood running cold, Elizabeth flew out of the room in search of John, hoping beyond hope that John hadn't done anything rash and if he had that it wasn't too late to help him. Elizabeth briefly considered calling Carson, but decided against it not wanting to make a big deal out of things if she was just over reacting and John had a perfectly logical reason for the state his room was in.

Quickly eliminating all the likely places John might have been Elizabeth found herself standing outside the door that led to the balcony that over looked the north pier. Elizabeth remembered John once telling her that he liked to go there and think sometimes since it was quiet and he could think undisturbed because practically no one ever went to that part of the city.

Elizabeth had run out of places to look and knew that if John wasn't here then she would have to contact Carson and possibly even Dr. Heightmeyer, Atlantis' resident psychologist. Opening the door Elizabeth was both relieved and horrified to find John on the other side.

John was sitting on the balcony railing leaning forward, the only thing keeping him from falling was the lose grip his hands, one of which was bloody and had chunks of glass embedded in it, had on the railing. Carefully entering the room not wanting to startle John and cause him to let go of the railing Elizabeth approached John, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"John?"

When John didn't say anything Elizabeth began to get worried. She was about to call Carson when John finally spoke.

"I just wanna sleep." John whispered it so softly Elizabeth almost didn't hear him speak. "One night of clarity, blissful silence, just to escape it all."

Elizabeth wasn't sure what exactly John was talking about, but she knew what ever it was, was important to him.

"Talk to me, tell me what's going on, please John." Hearing the fear in Elizabeth's voice John didn't resist when she began gently pulling on his arm trying to get him off the railing and away from the edge, in more ways than one.

Looking John over carefully for any other injuries besides his hand Elizabeth got her first real good look at John for the first time in nearly two weeks. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes were blood shot and had bags under them, making Elizabeth understand John's sleep comment earlier somewhat better, he was ragged looking, hair all over the place, hadn't shaved recently, and his normally bright and mischievous filled gaze was dull and filled with horrors she didn't want to imagine, couldn't imagine.

Sitting them both down against the back wall near the door Elizabeth, holding on tight to John's hand silently reassuring him that she was there, that he wasn't alone, was willing to wait as long as it took for John to start talking. John knew that Elizabeth wasn't going anywhere and neither was he until he started talking, but he couldn't find the words. It was nearly half an hour before John finally just started talking not caring if it made any sense to Elizabeth or not.

"I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try it's always around me even when I was just a kid. It feels like it's stocking me, like it's the predator and I'm the prey. I just wish I could escape it even if only for one night. I don't think I can even remember a time when it wasn't always surrounding me, mocking me…" John trailed off, a far away look in his eyes; looking almost like he really was trying hard to remember something.

"What is it John? What can't you escape?" Elizabeth spoke for the first time since pulling John away from the balcony railing.

"Death." The emotionless way John said that one word made Elizabeth shudder. "I was eight I think when I first remember encountering death, the dog I'd had ever since I was born died. But I don't truly think I understood death until I was ten and my parents and sister were killed in a house fire, I probably would have died too if I hadn't been staying the night at a friend's house…" John trailed off again, this time to wipe a hand across his face. He was slightly surprised when it came back wet he hadn't even realized he'd started crying.

Elizabeth's heart was breaking, sure she'd read John's file and knew the basics about what had happened when he was younger, but to actually hear him telling it was something different all together.

"The next time was when I was seventeen and my grandfather passed away followed by my grandmother a year later. Of course by that time I was eighteen so I didn't have to worry about foster care, which is something I guess. I joined the military right out of high school, which in away I guess is kind of ironic for someone wanting to get away from death." Getting too over whelmed and choked up by all the emotions that were being stirred up John stopped talking and just sat silently waiting to hear what Elizabeth had to say.

"John if I hadn't come in when I did would you have let go?" Of all the things John had been expecting Elizabeth to say, that hadn't been one of them.

John opened his mouth to speak but just as quickly closed it. Would he have let go? He didn't know. It was a minute before he finally answered out loud.

"I don't know. That hadn't been my intention for coming up here, but…I can't honestly say no I wouldn't have."

At hearing this Elizabeth put her arms around John's shoulders and pulled him into what she hoped was comforting hug. She knew it was going to take more than just a hug to make things all right again for John, but it was a start. A moment later Elizabeth was surprised when John jerked away from her and pulled himself up on his feet starting to pace back and forth. After a few seconds Elizabeth stood as well but didn't move.

"So what happens now?" John turned to look Elizabeth straight in the eye.

"That's up to you. There's two choices, one you can keep going down the path you have been in which case I'll be forced to put you under 24/7 watch with little to no freedom, or two we find away to work you through this and get your life back on track." Elizabeth met John's gaze head on never flinching away.

"Does that me we can keep this whole thing between us?"

"I'm sorry John, but no this can't just stay between us."

"Well then I don't think I like option number two very well. Then again I don't like option number one very much either." John turned his back to Elizabeth and leaned against the balcony railing.

"John I know you may not like it, but it's the right thing to do. If not do it for yourself then do it for me please, I don't think, no scratch that I know, that I couldn't do this with out you and I don't just mean running Atlantis, I mean life. I care about you too much that's why I can't let what's happened today stay between us. It's just too big for me, and you for that matter, to handle alone." While Elizabeth had been talking she'd walked over to stand next to John and placed a caring hand on his lower back.

Staring off into the horizon John let out a loud sigh of defeat, sagging his shoulders. Knowing that was probably the closest thing to willingness she was going to get Elizabeth softly took John's uninjured hand and started pulling him towards the door.

"Where are you taking me?" John questioned once they where out in the corridor.

"Infirmary." John hesitated for a moment and Elizabeth saw fear and uncertainty flash across his face. "John you need to get your hand looked at." She pointed to his injured hand as they began walking again. John looked at the hand as if just noticing for the first time that it was bleeding and had glass in it. "And Carson as well as Dr. Heightmeyer need to know what's going on."

Again John hesitated, but only for a second before letting Elizabeth continue leading him to the infirmary. The rest of the trip was spent in silence and thankfully, even though it was well past time for everyone but the night watch to be awake, they didn't run into hardly anyone.

Entering the infirmary Elizabeth led John over to a bed towards the back of the room. Once she was positive John wasn't going to bolt on her, Elizabeth went to get the doctor. Returning with Carson in tow Elizabeth sat on the bed next to John and once again took a hold of his uninjured hand.

"What the bloody hell happened to you, lad?" Carson asked when John held his hand out for the doctor to look at. Getting a good look at John, Carson swore he looked like death warmed over.

"Got into a fight with a mirror." Carson probably would have laughed at that if John hadn't said it with such a serious tone of voice and Elizabeth didn't have such a serious look on her face.

"I'll explain when you're done with his hand." Elizabeth promised, seeing Carson's raised eyebrow.

So thirty minutes later after several stitches and a mild sedative for John, Carson finally got his explanation. While Carson went in search of Dr. Heightmeyer, Elizabeth sat with John, one arm around his shoulders, hand gently running through his hair, until he fell into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks. Elizabeth smiled at the content look on John's face and vowed that no matter what happened she was going to stay right by his side the whole way until he got better and even after that.

And I need someone to help me,
So you come along,
I push you away,
Then kick and scream for you to stay.
Cuz I need someone to help me,
Oh I need someone to help me,
To help me heal these wounds,
They've been open for way too long.
Help me fill this soul,
Even though this is not your fault.

"Wounded"
GOOD CHARLOTTE