He was running. He was running uphill through trees, through the dark forest. For some reason he could not remember where he was, or even how he had gotten there. It seemed to him that a lifetime of unshakable certainty had been torn away from him bodily, leaving him bloodied and aching. Only one certainty remained to Scorpius; he must run.

He could feel the earth shift under him and he could feel branches and tree limbs tearing at his face and roots twisting beneath his feet, trying to trip him up. He felt heavy, every step forwards seemed to be an act of will. Ahead of him, above him, Scorpius could see light, pure, glowing light and he knew without having to think that he must reach it. But behind him he could feel the darkness, a sucking, yawning chasm that was drawing steadily closer no matter how far or how fast he ran. Blood pounded in his ears and he scrambled on blindly. He couldn't breath, his throat rattled impotently and his lungs felt as if they were filed with boiling lead. Tortured muscles screamed feeble agony. Worse by far, his head felt light and pounded with wave after wave of tortured heat that seemed to melt his mind into a shapeless, unthinking mass. He could feel the cloying darkness around him, all around now, clutching at him and caressing him, its touch burning like acid. He opened his mouth to shout and tendrils of it filled his mouth and his nostrils, reaching down his throat and choking, squeezing the life from him.

Then he was blinking, stumbling through the light. He felt the darkness fall away from him, and he spun, trying to make out indistinct shapes. He was surrounded by thick chilly mist which seemed to glow with some terrible inner light. His feet splashed through water. Scorpius extended one black gloved hand, and it seemed to him that the pervasive mist was seeping through his skin, leeching away what little strength remained to him.

Scorpius took a deep breath, stilling his spinning mind with an effort of will. Scorpius stopped and stood still, his breathing deliberately measured despite the freezing mist which burned his throat. He looked from side to side at shapes that seemed to melt away into the mist the moment his eyes touched them.

"Show yourselves." Scorpius was certain that his voice was light and controlled, that externally he revealed none of the fear that coursed through his body. He felt anger rising at that sensation, its heat bulling through weakness and uncertainty.

It seemed to Scorpius that he could hear a buzzing, whispering sound all around him. Out in the blanketing mist, he heard something sliver.

"I warn you, do not -"

Something wet snaked around Scorpius's foot. He kicked out and then leaped back into a crouch, glaring at the water. He saw nothing except a few ripples, but somewhere out in the fog, something splashed.

Scorpius spun in a wild circle, feeling his self control waning. For the first time in his life, he felt a kind of mindless, innocent terror. There were shapes all around him in the mist, looming figures made indistinct, but clearly drawing nearer. Instinct took control and Scorpius opened his mouth, snarling in wordless warning. Freezing ice seemed to be pumping through his veins and it was all he could do to keep his footing. He gagged reflexively at the unmistakable stench of death.

With force of willpower alone, he forced his mind to clear, carefully analysing his surroundings and his own condition. He felt curiously as if the fog was on the inside of his eyes now, and he realised that his treacherous body was shaking uncontrollably. Then a hand clutched him by the shoulder. The limb was nothing but fleshless, blackened bone, yet behind it Scorpius somehow sensed a terrible unstoppable strength. Scorpius lashed out without thinking. His hand struck something soft and slimy. He scrambled backwards and his foot struck an obstruction that had not been there a moment before. He felt himself falling but then other hands were grasping at him, tearing at him. He writhed helplessly as he saw faces all around him, eyeless, bloated and rotting, grinning skulls with strips of foetid flesh hanging down in strips. Scorpius lurched to his knees. He felt numb, he felt the last of his strength failing him. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and screamed unabashedly.

"They can't hurt you, you know."

Scorpius felt the tearing hands fall away. He opened his eyes and looked up. John Crichton was calmly threading his way through the statuesque dead, his eyes fixed on Scorpius. He stopped a few steps away and stood looking down at him.

"Nothing here can really harm you, haven't you figured that out yet?"

Dreamlike, Scorpius watched a trembling hand reach out. It was he realised, his own.

"Please..." his voice sounded alien to him, "help me."

Crichton shook his head regretfully. "Sorry buddy, but I can't. This is your dream."

Scorpius climbed unsteadily to his feet. Cringing, he glanced fearfully at the figures that surrounded them. "What -" he stopped and swallowed. "What do they want from me?" he said in a slightly steadier voice.

Crichton shrugged. "They're dead, they don't want anything any more. The question is, what do you want from them?"

Scorpius turned slowly. He looked up at the eyeless shapes that stood watching him through the mist.

Scorpius opened his mouth. "I..."

He looked back at Crichton, who watched him impassively. He looked back at the silent shapeless forms and shuddered. "I... cannot" he whispered.

And then a moment had passed before he even had a chance to recognise it. For just an instant, Scorpius had the strange impression that there were two of him, that he was looking out through the eyes of a stranger. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the feeling vanished. Scorpius blinked. He felt as if he was waking up from a long sleep. He looked up at the immobile figure and across to Crichton, who stood in watchful silence. Heat burned through him again, but now it was strength, it fuelled him and buoyed him up out of the murk and made him feel immortal.

Scorpius sneered disdainfully up at the silent figures. "I will not."

Scorpius turned and ran, his feet flying over the uneven ground without slowing, splashing through water and past the sightless shades who turned to watch without comment. Heedless of all else, Scorpius ran back down into the welcoming dark.