Blood was everywhere. He stood over the young lady on the ground, staring down as she tried to roll over and face him. He'd begged for her life and had received a blow to the gut, as well as one to the kidneys, for his troubles. Then, as he'd barely had time to recover his breath and straighten, Michael had acted. The knife had flashed in the dim light, but it was the girl's sudden gasp of air that told him what had happened. Then, she'd bonelessly slid from Micheal's grip to fall on the floor, leaving the bloody knife in Michael's hand.

"You will do the research I have asked. Or, I will do this to another of your friends tomorrow. And the next day. And every day you refuse." Michael's cold words were followed by the clang of the iron door that kept him in his prison.

Gasping for air, he dropped to his knees. Something was wrong. The girl's hair had darkened, and she groaned in pain. He reached for her shoulder and rolled her over. Alison stared up at him.

"Oh, God!" He scrambled backwards, his back painfully connecting with the pitiful bench Michael gave him for a bed. The adrenaline kicked in, his professional detachment taking over, and he ripped off is jacket to press into the wound on her side. Alison cried out in pain, but he steadied her with a calm hand on her shoulder.

There was nothing he could do. He had no medications, no surgical implements. Even a knife, needle, and thread might have saved her life. Michael knew exactly what he was doing when he brought Alison to his cell. Besides the inner confusion of how Alison had wound up here, of all places, he knew that this was the cruelest form of torture.

She bled out too quickly, and she reached for him with a bloodstained hand. "Carson," she said softly. Her eyes were on his, and he took her hand as he blinked back the tears.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered.

Her amazing blue eyes drifted closed. She forced them open and looked to him again. "Carson." A smile touched her face. "I love you."

"And I love you." He felt the tears drip down his face and didn't care. Why did he realize this so late? Why did he have to understand the depth of his emotions right at the final moment, when her life ebbed from her eyes? Her head rolled to one side, and he blinked. "Alison?" Frantically, he checked for a pulse and found none. "No!" He started chest compressions. "No! Don't do this! No!"

The shout echoed in his head as Carson sat upright in his bed. He stared frantically at his hands, looking for blood when nothing was there. The chandelier hung in silence over his bed, looming in the darkness as he reached for the bedside table. Moving made the nausea worse, and Carson abandoned his idea of turning on the lights in favor of rushing to the water closet. He barely made it before his body purged the remnants of his meal the night before.

Sliding down onto the cold tile floor in the luxurious bathroom, he lifted shaking hands to his face. He'd dreamed about that day before, but he'd never replaced the people in his dreams so vividly. The vague nightmares he'd had in the past of his friends rescuing him and not surviving paled in comparison. It spoke of his emotions of how he truly felt. And he'd said the words in his dream that he'd wanted to say for days. Only, in his dream, it had been too late. It reminded him of Perna, of Laura, of every woman he'd ever loved and lost, only magnified ten times by the horror that permeated him.

"Oh, God!" A horrible thought occurred to him, one he knew was driven by the residual terror of his dream. He rushed to his feet, flipping on every light in his room as he went. It was snowing outside, but the temperature didn't even register on his bare feet. In some clinical part of his brain, he knew the danger of exposure here in the Alps, knew he shouldn't be outside without protection. But his emotions were in control, driving him to do things so out of character that he couldn't stop himself.

He and Alison had enjoyed the shared balcony. Last night, before retiring, they'd slipped outside to share a few moments alone. The thick coats and gloves they'd worn hadn't cooled the passion between them, and Carson had retired with a grin and wondering if he was moving too fast. Alison didn't seem to think so, however, and he had drifted to sleep remembering the breathless expression on her face after he kissed her.

Now, he peered in the window into her room. At any other time, he would have felt intrusive for doing so. The night was dark, the sky covered in thick clouds that swirled around him. He felt the bite of snow, but there was enough light from his room for him to see her. She slept partially rolled onto her back, the luxurious blankets pushed to her waist and an arm thrown above her head. Her face was turned toward him, highlighted in the dim glow coming from his room. She looked so peaceful there, and he allowed his eyes to travel the length of her form under the covers. Her pajama top had come up a bit in the night, revealing a creamy patch of her stomach.

Then, as he watched, her face scrunched. She used the hand above her head to rub at her eyes, and she snagged the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders as she rolled toward him.

Carson pulled away from the window and walked to the railing of the balcony. The view from this balcony was phenomenal during the day. They could see the Matterhorn in the distance, as well as the sparkling lights of the tiny village below. But Chateau Schäfer was isolated from that town, and the team had enjoyed the freedom to simply be themselves outside of their work. Now, however, the clouds had settled over the region, shrouding everything in dimness that some would consider beautiful. Having spent too much time on Wraith hives and in Michael's labs, Carson knew the mist could contain anything.

The cold finally got to him, and he let out a deep breath as he dropped his chin to his chest. If he returned inside now, he'd be okay. But he couldn't go back to that room. Even with the lights on, the demons of his past still hovered in the darkness. It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had, and he hated that it held him hostage right then. He felt almost as if he'd be grabbed and dragged right back to that cold cell if he so much as stepped inside.

A warm hand settled onto his arm, and he jumped back, his eyes wide as an involuntary cry ripped from his throat.

oOo

A beam of bright light woke Alison from a sound sleep. She rubbed her face and then rolled onto her side, trying to ignore it. The covers pulled up to her shoulders were warm, and she managed to drift for a few moments before coherence set in. The light came from her balcony, not an open door in her mother's home. Blinking, she reached for the watch on her bedside table and frowned. It was just past two in the morning, and she and Carson hadn't retired until shortly after midnight. Had something happened with his injuries from the previous day?

Concerned, she pushed back the covers and reached for the boots she'd picked up during the shopping trip she'd taken with Dusty and Teldy. Her teammates thought it incredibly sweet—and definitely tease-worthy—that she considered Carson when buying cold weather gear. But, coming from south-central New Mexico didn't prepare her for the frigid Alps. Now, she ignored the pajamas she still wore and pulled on the thick coat.

Carson stood at the balcony railing, wearing only a t-shirt and pajama pants. His feet were bare, and his head hung low. Alison moved carefully to his side. "Carson?"

He didn't answer. When she got close to him, she reached out and touched his arm. His skin was cold to the touch, and he was trembling. Before she could do much more, he jumped back, his eyes wild as he stared at her. She blinked. The expression on his face was something she'd never seen before, and the panic in his eyes concerned her. Part of her—the part that kept her calm in a crisis—realized that he must have had a flashback. The part of her that loved him was crushed that he stared at her with such fear.

"Alison?" His soft voice broke the utter silence. He ran a hand over his face, but the fear didn't leave his eyes. "Ali-love, are ye okay?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, Carson." She reached out for him again and was rewarded with his swift move to pull her into his arms. She felt the desperation in his body and wondered what had happened. He tucked his head into her hair, pressing a kiss against her scalp as he breathed deeply of the shampoo she'd used the day before. It was intimate and thrilling and heartbreaking all at once. When she felt his grip slacken ever so slightly, she pulled away. "Carson, you need to come inside." She tugged him toward his brightly lit room.

"No!" The hoarse word seemed almost ripped from his throat.

"Okay, how about my room?" She pulled him toward the door. "I'll light a fire, and we can talk or whatever you want."

He nodded and allowed her to pull him into the warmth of her room. A quick move lit the lamps next to her bed, and she wished there was more room to sit other than on the bed. She supposed it couldn't be helped, and she watched him run a hand over the animal print comforter. He settled on the edge, looking very lost, and her heart broke. Closing the door, she ignored the light coming from his room and slipped out of her thick jacket. The fireplace was lit in no time, and she perched next to him.

"I'm sorry." He seemed to be regaining control of his emotions. The cold had obviously caught up to him because he'd crossed his arms and had stuck his hands under his arms.

Alison reached for a fur-lined throw blanket she'd found after she first arrived. "Here." Wrapping it around his shoulders, she leaned into him and smiled when he pulled the blanket around the two of them. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"Don't be, love." His voice had returned to its normal warmth, and he fussed over the blanket, making sure it was tucked around her as well. Although they were cold, the feel of his hands brushing against her arms sent a shiver down her spine. He didn't seem to notice. "I just dreamed, an' I sometimes don't fully wake after one."

She nodded and slipped her arms around his waist. "I understand."

They sat like that for a few moments, the two taking comfort from one another. Alison's mind went over the last few moments, and she realized that he likely wouldn't return to that room for the remainder of the night. Lifting her head, she smiled at him. "Do you mind if I go turn off all the lights next door?"

At her words, he grinned but let her push to her feet. She grabbed her jacket for the quick excursion outside and then left him in her room. Tonight would not be about passion, she realized, and she was okay with that. Carson needed safety right now. She shook her head as she looked for every light switch his room possessed. Out of all the men she'd ever known, Carson Beckett was one of the strongest she'd met. She didn't know many who could survive two years as Michael's prisoner, the realization he was a clone, months in a stasis pod, and the knowledge that he could never return to the home he remembered. It would have driven others mad by now. Instead, he used it to build a life for himself. It didn't surprise her that he also needed reassuring during moments like this.

She found him sitting on the foot of her bed, his elbows braced on his knees as he stared at the fireplace. The blanket was still draped over his shoulders, but he appeared to have stopped trembling. His hair stood on end in an adorable manner, and he glanced over when she slipped back inside. Pushing to his feet, he took her jacket as she shrugged out of it and laid it over the back of the room's single chair.

Seeing him return to his normal charming self helped the knot in Alison's stomach unclench. He'd be okay. Giving him a smile, she rearranged the pillows on her bed to accommodate the two of them sitting up and talking. It reminded her of late nights in college, when she and her roommate had stayed up way too late talking about guys and parties. Not that she'd ever gone to said parties. This time, however, Carson joined her and pulled her into his arms. Instead of sitting cross-legged, they stretched out beside one another. Alison laid her head on his shoulder and listened to his heartbeat as he held her close.

"I dreamed about you," he said softly after several long moments. She shifted enough to look into his face, but his eyes were on the fireplace, watching the flames eat at the logs. He shook his head. "I was back there, back with Michael. When I refused to do wha' he wanted, he brought a young lady to my cell. Couldn't ha'e been more than twenty years old. An' he killed her in cold blood.

"I don't think about that day often." He blinked and finally met her eyes. "It's the day I did wha' he wanted because he said he'd do it to another human every day until I agreed. But, tonight. . . ."

Alison didn't need him to spell out what he'd dreamed. Telling her about the incident and adding her into the mix was enough for her to deduce what had happened. She laid her head back on his shoulder and tightened her hold on him. "I'm right here, Carson. I'm not going anywhere."

His hands moved on her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Alison smiled, thinking that something so simple as a hug could have such a profound influence on her. And on him, for that matter. He kissed her head again before moving quickly. Pushing up on his elbow, he met her eyes with absolute clarity. "Alison, you need to understand how much I love you." He put a finger on her lips when she tried to speak. "I'm not sayin' this to get anythin' from you beyond an understandin' that you know. In my dream, I dinnae get the chance to tell ye, an' I cannae go on thinkin' I might not have it."

It wasn't the romantic way in which she had dreamed of hearing those words, but she didn't care. She leaned close and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It could have gotten out of control, but he apparently realized that this night wasn't about anything more than getting things said. After a moment, in which he methodically and gently stole her breath, he pulled back. She smiled up at him, trying to get her heart rate to return to a reasonable level. "I love you, too, Carson." She shrugged and then curled into his side again. "I think I knew it when we went to Albuquerque."

He chuckled. "You certainly enjoyed the guest lecture."

Alison felt her face heat and buried it into his chest. He laughed again and held her close. A few moments later, he let out a deep breath. His body relaxed slowly, and he drifted to sleep with her in his arms.

oOo

The morning sun woke Alison, and she smiled at the view through her windows. She'd obviously turned in the night, but Carson hadn't let her get away that easily. His arm was draped over her waist, gently reminding her of what had happened the night before. She rolled toward him and blinked. He slept soundly, all the lines in his face disappearing as he rhythmically breathed in and out. It warmed her to see him so comfortable in her bed, but she pushed aside the natural response of a woman seeing such an attractive man in her bed. Carson had needed the night before. He'd needed to react, to talk, to know that she wouldn't hold the strange moments when his past roared into the present against him.

Her bladder finally urged her to get out of bed. She carefully slipped out from under his arm, mindful of the sprained wrist, and used the facilities. He still hadn't moved when she returned, telling her that he needed the rest as much as she had. A quick glance at her watch told her it was well past ten in the morning, and the team had likely already eaten. She hoped no one said anything about their absence at breakfast, but she couldn't bring herself to be ashamed.

She managed to dress for the day and slip from the room without waking him. In fact, he never moved beyond breathing deeply, and she wondered when he'd last slept so well. Of course, the mild concussion he'd sustained in yesterday's accident with Ronon had to be helping him rest.

Downstairs, Ronon sat in front of the fireplace with his leg propped on the couch as he watched a movie and fiddled with his sling. He glanced up as she headed for the kitchen. "Hey. How's the doc?"

Alison's face heated slightly as she changed directions. "He's resting."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

Thankful that the Satedan was more observant and gentle than most thought of him, she dropped into a chair next to the couch. "He had a nightmare of his time with Michael."

That simple explanation made Ronon nod. "How bad?"

"Bad."

"He'll make it."

"I know." Alison smiled. "I'm just. . . ." Her voice trailed off as she realized she was discussing the man she loved with a man who had always intimidated her slightly.

Ronon leaned forward and looked her in the eye. "He loves you, and if you keep doing what you're doing, you have nothing to worry about." His voice had hints of determination in it, and she realized he was speaking from personal experience.

"Thanks, Ronon," she said as she pushed to her feet. He let her go, and Alison fixed two plates of fruit, toast, and a pot of coffee while thinking about the Runner's words. He loves you. Even his friends had seen how Carson treated her. It was both heartwarming and embarrassing at the same time. Though, the more she thought about it, the more her embarrassment faded. She carefully carried the plates upstairs and found that Carson was still asleep. He'd rolled to face the door, and she set the breakfast tray on the small desk next to the door. Then, moving to the windows, she wrapped her arms around herself and admired the scenery while waiting for the man behind her to stir for the day.

oOo

When Carson did wake, he was warm, comfortable, and felt rested for the first time in weeks. The memory of his dream, while still horrifying, faded as he blinked in the bright sunshine. He was in Alison's room, and he smiled at how comfortable it felt to wake in her domain. Not that she'd done anything beyond scattering minor touches of herself here and there. The jacket over the back of the chair hadn't been moved, and he remembered how she'd smelled as she'd settled next to him for the remainder of the night. It had been more intimate than just about anything, and he wanted to experience that for the rest of his life.

He finally managed to get his eyes to stay open and looked around the room. The view through the windows was fantastic just as it was anywhere else in the house, and the sky showed only remnants of last night's snowstorm. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and he finally found Alison watching him with an amused expression. She raised an eyebrow. "Decided to join the land of the living?"

He chuckled at that. "Aye." Rubbing his hands over his face, he pushed himself upright. "I'm sorry for. . . ."

"Don't you even think about apologizing!" Her sharp words interrupted him, but the smile on her face as she set aside the book she'd been reading softened the blow. She stood and walked over to him, her jeans and bulky sweater only accenting her curves. Perching on the side of the bed, she shrugged. "I quite liked having you here."

He held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing of a few moments ago fading as he read the emotion in her eyes. She really didn't hold it against him, and she leaned slightly toward him.

He smiled. "I'd kiss you, but. . . ."

"Carson?" she interrupted again.

"Aye?"

"Shut up." That amusing instruction was followed her lips on his, and he stopped thinking about having just woke from the best sleep he'd had in months. He responded immediately to her kiss, pulling her closer to him though they didn't fall back onto the bed. The passion built, however, and he buried his hands in her hair as he pulled her closer to him. When he finally eased back, she'd climbed onto the bed to avoid melting onto the floor, and her eyes were just as dilated as his.

He ran his thumbs over her cheekbones, smiling at the effect he had on her. "I think I'd better go. Before we both aren't able to control ourselves."

Alison raised an eyebrow. "Who said anything about controlling ourselves?" But she backed away, her face sobering. "I understand, Carson. Last night was intense and emotional."

He nodded. "You deserve more than that."

She laughed at that, the sharpness of the sound surprising him. "I would have been perfectly happy if we'd. . . ." Her face warmed to a delightful shade of pink, and she cleared her throat. "It wouldn't have mattered to me, Carson."

"Aye, I know." He shook his head. "But it would have mattered to me."

They sat in silence for a bit, each one absorbing the impact of what this weekend would mean to their relationship. Carson watched the emotions cross her face as she smiled at him, and he grinned back. He knew where his heart was headed with this woman, and he loved every idea that crossed his mind. Nights spent curled up with one another, mornings waking to see her smile, moments of sharing the things that still caused such heartache, quiet times when neither spoke, and the unspoken communication that seemed to pass between them.

Seeing that she was well and truly okay, he looked around. "Well, I suppose I should get moving for the day."

Alison grinned again, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Might be a good idea. I went downstairs and brought back some fruit and toast for breakfast, but I'm not sure you'll want it now."

"Why? What time is it?"

Her grin blossomed into a full-blown laugh. "It's almost one in the afternoon."

"What?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "You obviously needed the sleep, and I wasn't complaining."

Carson stood and stared at her, his shock fading as he studied the expression on her face. She truly didn't care, and it warmed him to know that she was thrilled for him to be there. He slowly remembered everything that was said the night before and now reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I meant every word I said last night, love."

"I know." She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. "Go get dressed for the day. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

Leaving her alone, Carson slipped onto the cold balcony and hurried into his room. Today, the fear of the night before seemed foolish, and he shook his head. He hoped that the terror of what Michael had done to him would fade over time. Still, he was grateful to have a woman in his life who did her best to understand everything about him.

~TBC