Author's note: I dusted this fic off, so to speak, from my file of unfinished stories. It's set directly after 'Revelations' so there are definite mentions of events in that episode. Also mentioned are events from 'Aftermath' and 'The Boogymen', but I'm sure everyone already knows what happened anyway!

I know this first chapter is short, but it changes POV after this so it seemed to be a good place to stop.

The darkness enveloped him like a thick, heavy shroud. The dull light from the television in the corner did nothing to dispel his anxiety. The room was eerily quiet except for the sharp beeping of the monitors that echoed off of the empty walls. The constant chirping rhythm only added to the pounding in his head. All of his senses were on edge, each one amplified and abnormally pronounced. The sticky itch of the tape holding down the IV line, the humming static electricity from the television, the heaviness of the overweight blankets, all were exaggerated beyond normal.

He was suffocating, drowning, being swallowed by the darkness and the feelings and his thoughts. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to the previous days' events. The memories were as strong as if they were actually happening. He glanced around the dark room; knowing it was futile but desperately hoping for something-anything-to divert his attention from his inner turmoil. Of course, he was alone. The nurses had forcibly removed his team members several hours ago so that he could rest. That was entirely useless. He couldn't sleep. He didn't want to sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could smell the wet leaves and fresh dirt. When his eyes were closed, his bed became the dirty, hard floor that his head had impacted repeated, causing the minor concussion he now had. When he closed his eyes, the IV needle turned into a used syringe jabbing roughly into his arm; the silent television morphed into computer monitors replaying ghastly murder scenes. With nothing to distract him from the pain, his broken foot throbbed excruciatingly, his bruised ribs ached terribly, and his throat was dry and sore. So he kept his eyes open, but his fear lingered. The darkness held monsters only he knew were there.

It was overwhelming.

Terror.

Panic.

Both were quickly overtaking him.

Suddenly he couldn't breathe.

He was hyperventilating, gasping for air.

'I can't breathe. This is it; I'm dying. Again. Alone in the dark. No one is here to help. Why don't they help me? Where are they?'…

A soft knock on his door startled him out of his panic attack. The unexpected surprise of a visitor was enough to break its hold on him and snap him back into reality.

'Who could that be?' The doctors and nurses didn't knock; they barged in uninvited. His team members were forbidden from returning until later in the day. Who else would visit, especially this late (or is it early)?

"Come in," he croaked quietly. His voice was rough and scratchy. He hoped whomever it was could hear him because he couldn't speak any louder. He watched expectantly as the door slowly creaked open, letting soft light from the hallway enter the room. In the gentle glow he saw a familiar face smiling at him.

"Elle?"