John stumbled out of his room, a hand over his mouth as tears streamed down his face. His heart was pounding in his chest, his body trembling, and his thoughts racing. He'd dreamed, dreamed of you. Dreamed of having to watch you be tortured and murdered, of being forced to watch, and not being able to do anything to save you. Staggering down the hall, he finally found your room, not bothering to knock. He needed you, needed to make sure you were okay, that it was just a horrible dream. "Lass?!"