Dozing lightly off and on John wasn't sure how much time passed when he felt Elizabeth shift away from him slightly. Opening his eyes he found Elizabeth awake and absently picking at the tape holding the IV on her hand.

"Careful, Carson has a sixth sense when it comes to people fiddling with their IV's." He took hold of her hand to stop her picking at the tape.

Threading her fingers with John's, Elizabeth sighed. "I know Carson's just trying to help, but couldn't he find something a little less annoying?"

John planted a kiss on her temple. "I'll go find Carson, see if he's willing to let you go."

Elizabeth frowned, "Tell him if he doesn't take this damn thing out of my hand, I will."

John chuckled, "Be right back." He kissed her temple again, then got up and went to find Carson.

Looking up from his laptop Rodney spotted John emerging from the curtained off area. "She awake yet?"

"Yup and cranky as ever." John kept his voice low to keep Elizabeth from over hearing him. "Where's Carson?"

"In his office."

Nodding John wandered towards Carson's office and poked his head in the door. "You have a cranky patient that would like to leave."

"Aye, I'm not surprised." Carson stood up and headed for Elizabeth's bed, stopping briefly to speak with one of the nurses on duty.

"Can I go now?" Elizabeth, sitting up in bed, asked as soon as she saw Carson.

Yeah somebody had been spending a little too much time around a certain Colonel Carson thought. "In a little bit. I want you to eat something first." He held his hand up stopping any protest, "And I'm not letting you go anywhere until you do."

Just then the nurse he'd spoke with came over with a tray of food. Seeing the defiant glint in Elizabeth's eyes John sat down beside her, his hand coming to rest gently on her knee. He softly bumped his shoulder into hers, "Play nice." His tone was soft.

Knowing that John was right and that Carson was just being his usual mother hening self, Elizabeth reluctantly started eating the food the nurse had brought her. Once he was satisfied with the amount of food that Elizabeth had eaten Carson unhooked the IV and let her go with strict orders that she was to report to the infirmary everyday for a check up until she got her weight back up or else he would have her confined back in the infirmary with a feeding tube.

Deciding to get her out of there while she was ahead John took Elizabeth's hand and led her out of the infirmary before she had the chance to argue. Entering John's quarters Elizabeth slumped down on the bed rubbing the back of her neck. Able to see the tension in her shoulders from across the room John moved over to massage her shoulders.

"You know nobody expects you to be strong all the time." John spoke softly a few moments later.

"Strong?" Elizabeth turned to look at John. "John, I've been an emotional wreck, you should know that better than anyone."

"Have you? Have you completely broken down, let it all out?" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, getting an idea. "C'mon." He took her hand, pulling her towards the bathroom.

"John what're you doing?" She hesitated, confused by John's behavior.

"You trust me, right?" He stared straight into her eyes, his full of concern mixed with fear.

"Always." She didn't hesitate; she'd always trusted John and nothing would ever change that.

"Than trust me now." He tugged her into the bathroom, flipping the light on. Elizabeth sighed as she stepped closer to John, making sure to keep her back to the mirror.

"Look in the mirror." John's tone was gentle but firm. He didn't miss the way she kept her back to the mirror; he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her look in a mirror.

At first he hadn't thought much of it figuring that she didn't want to see all the fresh, livid bruises that had covered her body. But the bruises had started to fade by now and she still refused to look at herself in the mirror, in fact she refused to look at her body period. Whenever they showered she never made any move to wash herself leaving the task to John.

While John didn't mind being entrusted to cleanse her body for her, he did find her reluctance a bit disconcerting, but hadn't mention it, not wanting to upset the fragile balance she'd been struggling to find. But now he was starting to think maybe that hadn't been the right choice.

Elizabeth froze her eyes going wide as dread flowed through her body. "John…?"

"Look in the mirror, Elizabeth."

Underneath the concern and fear in John's eyes Elizabeth could see love and caring shinning reassuringly back at her. She looked away she didn't want his reassurances. She wanted his emotional distance, his apathy, his ignorance – anything but his love. But there it was, staring back at her, alive and strong, and screaming at her that he was not apathetic, distant, or ignorant.

"John…don't…please…" Elizabeth whispered, her voice trembling. "I…I…can't…"

John gently grasped her shoulders, kissing her forehead. "Yes you can Elizabeth," he urged his voice low and soothing.

"No…" She breathed, her eyes wide with fear. She silently pleaded with him to release her, but simultaneously knew the futility of the desperate plea.

His grip remained persistently clenched on her shoulders as she tried to back away towards the door, and his voice dropped substantially, wafting heavily, entirely over the brunt of her unwillingness. "What are you afraid of?"

'Being reminded…reminded of everything that happened.' She couldn't bring herself to voice her thoughts. To do so would invite the emotional chaos she'd been fiercely struggling against.

"Why are you doing this?" The question was weakly stated, her speech slurred by the sudden enormity of her exhaustion, but even so, her tone was desperate, pleading with him to retract his request.

But he couldn't, wouldn't do that. The reason was simple.

"Because I love you, Elizabeth. I care about you." He paused and bent towards her, his forehead coming to rest against her own. "And I refuse to sit by and watch you slowly kill yourself."

Her eyes closed as she shook her head, denying his accusation. "I'm not," she whispered. "That's not what—."

"Isn't it?"

"No." Another whisper, fragile and fading and entirely unconvincing.

"It's alright," he directed her to face the mirror, his body very close, very firm against her back. "Open your eyes."

And she was complying, but was refusing to look in the glass, refusing to see the reminder. And then John was turning her face to look at him, his eyes were very soft, very loving and he was begging her silently to do this monstrous thing for him.

And then his eyes were shifting to look at their reflection, "Look in the mirror. What do you see?" Her chin was in his hand and he was turning her head and…

She was seeing herself…

As she had been before…

Before the shame and horror…

Before the helplessness and fear…

It was over, truly over. She was home…she was safe.