Set early in season 1 after Suspicion spoiler for Suspicion

Warning for language

Thank you to Annie and Anne for beta, any remaining mistakes are mine

Normal disclaimer – not making any profit just playing with the characters

Summary: Sheppard and the team go through a learning curve

Going Under

By Spaceseeker

I tried to kill the pain
but only brought more
I lay dying
and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming
am I too lost to be saved
am I too lost?

"Tourniquet" by Evanescence

He didn't have time for people, and they didn't have time for him. Unless they needed something done of course. Then it was Doctor McKay this and Doctor McKay that. Not that he got appreciated for coming to their rescue, as he invariably did. Nope. It was just expected that he should know the answers. If he had any problems, they just laughed. For example, he had an allergy to citrus. Did anyone care? Nope. They seemed to think he was making it up. It was the same when he came to Atlantis but more so. They expected incredible things from him. He delivered of course, it wasn't like he wasn't up to the challenge, but he hadn't got where he was today because of his 'people skills', in fact he was here despite them. He could out-think them in his sleep, for goodness sake. And did he get respect for that? Nope. Yes, he knew that some of the other scientists must respect him for his abilities, which were of course extraordinary. But the others didn't seem to. He really didn't understand it. After all he did for them you'd think they would be concerned for his well being. What the heck would happen to them if he wasn't around to save the day? When he got hit in the face by that Wraith stunner they laughed. He was paralysed and scared and they laughed. Forget about what type of person he was, what type of people did that make them?

He had thought that maybe Major Sheppard was different. He thought maybe they were friends. That maybe Sheppard liked McKay the genius. He knew that Sheppard fought for him to be on SGA-1. Elizabeth had her doubts, thought that the head scientist should stay in the city. After all, that's probably where he was of the most use. But the Major reminded her that she had promised that he could pick his own team, and he wanted McKay. Him. On a team. A team of adventurers and explorers, wearing a gun and going into danger. Nothing to do with science or chess competitions. Hell, it was practically like being the kid who's picked first on a sports team at school instead of the last. He could still hear the echoes of "I guess we'll have McKay". God, if the jocks could see him now. Who was he kidding? They would probably still die laughing. Except now it was him dying. And he wasn't laughing.

If they weren't so committed to the 'It's McKay, so if he is hurt it must be minor and funny,' maybe they wouldn't have left him. Yeah, he knew he told them it was okay but only after they already came up with the 'plan'. Yes, he felt bitter. In fact he used some of his precious little remaining energy to announce it to the jumper. "Yes, I feel BITTER!" There, he'd said it. He could feel an unfamiliar prickling feeling behind his eyes. Hell, he was dying; he could be honest now, right? He was feeling hurt. He felt hurt when they shrugged off the seriousness of his injuries. He didn't demand that they take his injuries seriously. Should he really have to do that? Shouldn't they care? Shouldn't the Major have cared? God, his thoughts were going in circles. What was the point? It was only in stupid stories and fantasies that people actually cared about you. Actually comforted you and were kind. It certainly wasn't his experience of life. He'd never even witnessed that kind of caring, let alone had it offered to him. No, he wasn't going to start dredging up his dysfunctional childhood. He hadn't the energy.

Rodney was feeling dizzy. He used his hand to steady himself against the jumper's wall. He thought he might be sick again. He wondered about making another trip out of the jumper so he could throw up but decided against the idea. He didn't think there was anything left to throw up anyway. He was so thirsty, which he found strange considering his body's need to retch up everything he'd ever eaten. He started to pant as the dizziness got worse and he crashed heavily onto his knees. His stomach hurt. It had begun as a niggling pain, his back and shoulder actually felt more bruised at the time, but now the pain in his stomach was all encompassing. He allowed himself a groan as he felt himself slowly collapse onto the floor. He was cold and tired. He was sick of fighting. 'Story of my life,' he thought to himself. Fighting. Fighting to be heard, to be given his due. No one ever gave him anything unless he fought for it. They never had. He knew he was being morbid and emotional, but he was so very tired. He was getting cold and was finding it harder to breathe. He could feel his life slipping away. He wasn't even sure he cared. The radios didn't work because of the electromagnetic interference, but even if they did, he wondered if he would call for them to help him now anyway?

Rodney thought he'd sleep now. He could feel a tear running down his face. He could feel the familiar anger at himself for allowing himself to care. But why not? He wouldn't have to explain himself later. It would be over. He let his eyes close and surrendered himself to the darkness. He was aware of his last bitter thought, 'Goodbye John Sheppard.'

That little voice wouldn't shut the hell up. The plan didn't work; it had been a flimsy plan, but the only one anyone came up with. Ford's plan. Sometimes you had to let others in your team take the initiative. It wasn't until the point of no return that the little voice started up. Not only about the plan; he knew the chances of success were slim, but the fact that the crap plan wasn't shat on from a great height by McKay, the resident self-labelled genius and abrasive sarcastic loudmouth. The little voice was asking him why, and quiet frankly he didn't like the answers.

Once he had clearance and was okayed to go to Atlantis, General O'Neill gave him a few of SG-1's mission reports to read. 'To help with the adjustment and to get the Major into the headspace,' he said. They were the General's personal copy of the reports, and on one of the old ones there was a hand written personal note the General had obviously overlooked when he handed them to Sheppard. The then Colonel had written about Dr Jackson. Sheppard thought the Colonel was trying to figure out his own resident genius. He couldn't remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of 'Daniel will whine about the smallest discomfort but be the bravest person I know when mortally wounded.' Sheppard questioned the mortally wounded bit since Dr Jackson was obviously still around. But the wording of that note had been going round the Major's mind. McKay was wounded, granted it didn't seem much, but he didn't complain overly. Something was telling Sheppard that he needed to watch out for the injuries McKay didn't complain about.

The team was a little worse for wear but basically in one piece. Ford kept giving his CO little sideways looks. It was obvious Ford felt bad that the plan failed. Sheppard knew he should say something to make Ford feel better. It wasn't really his fault. As far as Sheppard was concerned what they did as a team was the CO's responsibility. But it would have to wait. That little voice had his stomach on its side now and there was a gnawing feeling in his gut that was telling him that a member of his team was in serious trouble. Ford might not have been the only one who fucked up today.

They couldn't radio ahead; even if McKay had fixed the problem in the jumper; the radios on Sheppard's team would still be affected by the electromagnetic field and would be useless.

Sheppard could see the jumper up ahead; he found himself praying for the sight of McKay coming out to meet them. But all was still.

He started to run. He saw Teyla and Ford exchange confused glances out of the corner of his eye. He didn't explain. He was hoping he was wrong and terrified that he was right.

As he entered the jumper he stopped, frozen. He could feel himself go cold.

McKay was lying on the floor. He ran and slid to the floor beside the fallen man. He looked dead. He was so still, his face colorless.

Sheppard put his hand on McKay's neck to check for a pulse and lowered his head to Rodney's chest to check his breathing. He couldn't help the strange sound he made when he realised McKay was still alive. His pulse was rapid and his breathing shallow and fast.

Teyla and Ford were here now and immediately sprung into action. Ford grabbed the first aid kit while Teyla came and joined Sheppard, stroking McKay's forehead.

"Doctor McKay, can you hear us?" Teyla looked worried. She wasn't the only one.

McKay's face was so bleached of color.

Sheppard pulled his attention away from the tear he could see drying on McKay's face, and started checking the scientist for injuries. Rodney's skin was cold and clammy. John remembered Rodney rubbing his torso and back, complaining of bruising. He felt around McKay's ribcage. He couldn't feel the give of broken ribs but something didn't feel right. He pulled up McKay's top and examined the area again. Rodney's abdomen was hard beneath Sheppard's fingers and he could see bruising. "Damn," he muttered.

Teyla glanced at Sheppard inquiringly.

"Sir?" Ford looked concerned.

"I think he's bleeding internally." Sheppard sat back, at a loss for what to do. "I don't think he has much time."

"You must try and fly the ship. I will stay with Doctor McKay," said Teyla calmly, though her eyes betrayed her concern.

Sheppard nodded and stood, knowing she was right. They had to get McKay to Beckett, and fast. He just hoped McKay had a chance to fix the ship before he collapsed. That was so wrong on so many levels. 'Gee, McKay, hope you did your job before you died'. As Sheppard thought back to their 'controlled crash landing' as he had called it, he realised that it was probably McKay doing his job that caused his injury in the first place.

The electromagnetic interference was playing havoc with the jumper and they were going down. McKay was standing up in the back of the jumper trying to give them some power. The rest of the team were in the relatively safer position of sitting in their chairs. The landing was rough. McKay was thrown off his feet. Sheppard didn't see him fall. When he turned round McKay was half sitting, half lying against the back wall of the jumper. Sheppard didn't ask if he was hurt, since he was used to McKay, the borderline hypochondriac, informing the world loudly if he was hurt. When Sheppard asked McKay if he could fix the puddle jumper, he stood up, rubbing his chest and muttering "Never mind me, I've probably got a few broken ribs but I'll pull off another technological miracle. No problem."

Sheppard winced at the thought of those words as he got into the pilot's chair. He found it somewhat ironic that he hoped McKay had pulled off that miracle. Sheppard sat in the chair, his mind wondering about the airworthiness of the puddle jumper. The HUD appeared in front of him. Yes, McKay had done it. The scientist thought he could somehow use the conduits that powered the cloak to provide some sort of shield to protect them from the electromagnetic field. That and fix some minor damage the jumper had received when they crashed.

While he was doing that Ford suggested the rest of them go collect some Intel from the Genii base they knew was in the area. McKay had made some sarcastic comment about being left alone, but Sheppard ignored him as so much white noise.

Thinking back, Sheppard could now remember a look of betrayal in Rodney's eyes as the rest of them went over the plan one more time. And the absolute silence from McKay. Then they left him.

Sheppard had to shove his feelings down to his boots and concentrate on flying them the hell out of there. Thank God for military training.

Carson was grimly aware that the Stargate had killed Rodney.

Major Sheppard said Rodney was breathing before they entered the gate. Unfortunately in Rodney's weakened state, the trip through was too traumatic, and by the time Carson entered the puddle jumper Rodney was in cardiac arrest.

The Major looked shocked. Carson was aware that as team leader, he took responsibility for his team seriously, but that didn't quite explain the haunted look in the man's eyes. Carson filed away this thought as he attempted to revive the injured man lying on the jumper's floor.

"One, two, three, four, five." Carson counted out as he used chest compressions to try and get Rodney's heart pumping again." The mood in the jumper was tense as everyone willed Rodney to start breathing. "He's asystolic, epi and adrenaline," called Carson not even looking to see if the nurse had heard, too focused on continuing the compressions. "Come on, Rodney. One, two, three, four, five." A nurse injected Rodney with the medication. "Let's get him hooked up to the ECG," Carson called, keeping up the rhythm of compressions as Rodney was connected to the portable ECG machine.

"He's in v-fib," called out a nurse.

Carson prepared the paddles as he waited for the defibrillator to charge. "Clear," he yelled. The thump as the charge entered Rodney's body sounded loud in the silence. Rodney's body arched up in response. There was then an air of nervous anticipation as everyone listened for a change to the flat tone of the ECG monitor.

No change. "Again," he called, as they repeated the procedure. Sheppard, Teyla and Ford watched helplessly as Rodney's lifeless body was subjected to repeated shock in order to force it back to life.

This time the tone changed, beeping for a few seconds before the steady tone signalling death returned.

The urgency in Carson's voice was tinged with a touch of desperation. "Come on, Rodney. Clear!"

This time the monitor started beeping again and a few seconds later the familiar rhythm signalling a heartbeat sounded. Carson listened to Rodney's chest for breath sounds - not brilliant, but there. "Let's get him to the infirmary," he ordered, mobilising his team into action.

Sheppard kept getting strange looks from people. He knew he wasn't acting normally but why should he be? His team mate and potential friend was fighting for his life and he wouldn't be if Sheppard had listened and done his job properly.

Sheppard paced the designated waiting area aware that he was probably wearing a groove into the floor. A nurse had come out a few hours ago and told him that McKay had been taken into surgery. It couldn't be good that it was taking so long. Teyla and Ford had waited with him for a while. Sheppard had told them to go shower, eat and rest. He was still deciding how he felt about the fact that they had listened to him and left.

He was facing the doors leading into the infirmary when he heard someone come up behind him.

"Major, are you alright?" Sheppard recognised Doctor Weir's voice as she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Not really," Sheppard replied.

Weir withdrew her hand and waited, knowing he had more to say.

"I messed up. McKay was hurt and I didn't listen."

"Then the blame rests with all of us," Weir replied in a quiet voice. "We all fell into the habit of not listening to Rodney when he talks about his medical condition and his real or imagined problems."

Sheppard got the feeling she had already talked to Teyla or Ford. Teyla, probably; they seemed to have some sort of a connection.

He turned to look Weir in the eye. "How many of them are imagined? Shouldn't I as his team leader know?"

Weir held his gaze. "Something you will remedy, no doubt."

"If it's not too late," the Major responded.

"Major Sheppard, I don't think you should carry all the blame. All of us here at Atlantis seem to have assumed a way of dealing with Doctor McKay that perhaps on further reflection is erroneous. He can be a difficult man to communicate with. Sometimes the only way to deal with him and retain sanity and calmness is to ignore some of what he says."

Sheppard couldn't help a little smirk at that statement.

"Perhaps as we all get to know Rodney better," Weir continued, "we will become more skilled at ignoring the right bits and playing attention when we need to."

"At the moment that sounds a hell of a gamble," Sheppard countered.

"We are all learning new roles here at Atlantis. Learning about each other is part of that. Mistakes will be made, Major. I can only hope that they will be few."

"God, I hope we get another chance with McKay." He rubbed his hand through his hair.

Weir rested her hand on the Major's arm. "I am sure Rodney will put up a good fight, he's a stubborn man. And he knows Atlantis needs him."

"You are right there," Sheppard responded as he saw Teyla and Ford enter the waiting area.

"Has there been any news of Dr McKay?" Teyla inquired.

Sheppard shook his head and was about to respond when the door from the infirmary opened and Doctor Beckett entered the waiting area. He looked tired.

Beckett acknowledged the expectant looks with a little nod. "Rodney is not out of the woods yet, but he is holding his own I'm happy to say. I have him sedated and on a respirator until he is able to breathe on his own. I'm afraid this might be a slow process."

"What's wrong with him?" Sheppard asked impatiently.

"It was his spleen, Major."

"Is that serious?" Ford asked.

"Considering he was dead when he got here I would say yes," Sheppard replied flippantly.

Ford ducked his head, and Sheppard winced, feeling somewhat guilty but unable to contain the anger he was feeling. It wasn't Ford's fault, but at the moment he wasn't in the mood to take any prisoners.

"I'm afraid so, Lieutenant." Beckett responded, wisely ignoring Sheppard. "A lacerated spleen is a serious injury. By the time he got here he had been bleeding a while, he was in hypovolemic shock and his organs had begun to fail."

"Did he wake up at all?" Sheppard asked, not really wanting to know all the grisly details.

"No Major, and he won't be awake for some time, so why don't you go and get some rest yourself. You look like you've been through the wringer."

"Can we see him?" Sheppard replied.

"If you must," Beckett responded, sighing, but giving in to the inevitable.

He turned and opened the door to the infirmary, leading the group to a curtained off bed. He opened one side of the curtain to allow access.

Sheppard couldn't help but notice how still Rodney was. The only movement was his chest rising and falling as the ventilator helped him breathe. For someone usually so animated it seemed strange. Peaceful, but strange.

"Only a minute now," Beckett told the visitors. "He needs continual monitoring at this stage and we need the room to do our job."

Weir nodded and caught Beckett's eye. "Thank you for looking after him, Carson."

"Only doing my job, Elizabeth." Beckett responded, but appreciation for the words was in his eyes.

Weir touched McKay's blanket covered leg. "Get better, Rodney." Weir looked back up at Beckett. "Keep me up to date."

"Aye, I will," Beckett responded.

Weir nodded to the rest of the group, then turned and left.

"We shall take our leave too," Teyla said walking over to McKay and touching his hand, trying to avoid the tubes and wires that appeared to be all over his body.

Beckett escorted Teyla and Ford out of the infirmary.

Sheppard took the opportunity to pull up a chair and sit down. He placed a hand on Rodney's arm. "We have to talk when you wake up."

Sheppard could hear Beckett come back behind him. "Don't go getting comfortable, lad. Go and look after yourself, eat, wash, get some sleep."

"Doc, I kinda want to be here when McKay wakes up."

"He is sedated, he won't be waking until I'm ready for him to wake. It won't be for at least another few hours, so go get some rest. It's going to be a long haul for Rodney; if you want to be here for him you need to look after yourself too. Go on, away with ya," Beckett ordered with a hint of a smile.

Sheppard nodded, accepting the logic of the argument. He gave McKay another look then went to his quarters.

"We have to talk." The words echoed through his mind. Rodney was dreaming. Sheppard was mad at him. No, he was mad at Sheppard. Was he? Didn't matter. He was dead.

Or not.

He heard beeping and became aware of someone calling his name.

"Rodney. Rodney, time to wake up."

He knew that voice. Annoying.

"Come on, Rodney."

Rodney groaned, turning his head and then winced at the soreness of his throat.

"That's it. Come on, open your eyes," Carson encouraged.

Rodney opened his eyes slowly, his eyelashes feeling sticky.

"There you are," Carson said, smiling.

Rodney badly wanted to berate Carson for his obviousness but he when he tried he found he had no voice. His eyes widened, panicking.

"Your throat may feel a bit sore, Rodney. You've had a tube in helping you breathe. Don't try and talk yet." Carson offered Rodney an ice chip from the cup beside the bed.

Rodney frowned, looking concerned, but accepted the chip. It felt wonderful sliding down his throat. Beckett offered a couple more ice chips then put the cup down.

Rodney looked around, taking in his surroundings. He felt like he had been run over by something very large and half expected to see tyre tracks on his body. Then he remembered the jumper.

"Rodney?" Carson looked concerned as he saw Rodney's usually expressive face become wooden, almost as if someone had closed the shutters on a window.

Rodney turned his face away from Carson. "So how am I?" he managed to croak out.

"You are doing well, Rodney. You were bleeding internally. Your spleen." Carson frowned at the lack of response from Rodney. "You had us worried for a while, Rodney."

The sarcastic 'hurrmp' coming from Rodney confused Carson. "Rodney?"

But Rodney was silent.

Carson patted Rodney's hand. "I'll be back a little later to see how you are doing. Why don't you get some rest?"

Sheppard was feeling somewhat pissed. Beckett was supposed to let him know before Rodney woke up. Instead, he was called in after McKay was already awake. Not only that, but Beckett wanted a word before he was letting Sheppard go see McKay.

"I'm concerned about him, Major. What happened out there?" Beckett sounded annoyed.

"What do you mean?" asked Sheppard defensively.

"Rodney is acting withdrawn, quiet, unresponsive. That's not the Rodney I know," Beckett responded.

Sheppard winced and frowned.

"Major? What's going on?"

Sheppard rubbed his hand through his still damp hair. "I'm not really surprised. We… I… well, I let him down, Doc. Heck, I should be talking to him, not you. I really need to talk to him. Now."

"Okay, Major. But tread carefully; remember Rodney is still a very sick man. His resistance is weakened, and I don't just mean physically."

John pulled up a chair next to Rodney's bed and sat down. Rodney didn't respond to his presence but continued staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, McKay."


"Look, you have every right to be pissed, so, why don't you let me have it. Go on, I know you want to."


"Silence really doesn't suit you. Of course I will deny ever saying that."


John sighed, rubbing his face.

"Okay, lost for words? Okay, how about 'why did you leave me?', 'why didn't you check how I was?'" Sheppard's voice rose. " 'Why did you fucking abandon me?'"

Rodney's breath hitched. He turned his head away from the Major, his eyes screwing up, as he obviously tried to control his emotions.

John stood up and grasped Rodney's hand. Rodney tried unsuccessfully to shake off the Major's grip.

Sheppard leaned over and spoke in a low voice. "I stuffed up, McKay. Okay? I fucking stuffed up. Can't promise it will be the last time, but I'm sure going to try and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"I'm tired." McKay's voice was hoarse.

"Get some sleep, I just wanted you to know - "

"No, Major," Rodney interrupted. "I'm tired of fighting to be heard. You don't care. None of you do."

The Major's face hardened and he sighed. "I can see why you would think that. Look, McKay, this touchy feely stuff doesn't happen often but I think you need to hear some truths. Just don't ever use it against me." He paused for effect, but got no response. Rodney's face was still shuttered closed. "A lot of people respect you here. Yeah, I know the banter can be derogatory, but you give as good as you get, better mostly. We know you are brilliant, and we do appreciate that, honestly. But you know McKay, it's more than that. We like you, McKay. True, sometimes it would be nice if you were a bit nicer." Sheppard leaned in even closer, his voice dropping further. "But truth is, we like who you are. I like who you are. And that is why I'm so pissed at myself. I nearly killed you. I didn't listen, I didn't do my job. My job as your team leader and my job as your friend. Rodney, I'm sorry, I mean that with my heart and soul. Please talk to me. Can we get past this, can you trust me again?"

McKay covered his face with his forearm. He tried to turn away but was hampered by the various tubes and lines connecting him to the medical equipment. Soundless sobs shook his body.

"Crap, McKay." Sheppard put his hand on McKay's shoulder trying to comfort him.

One of the monitors next to McKay started beeping as Rodney struggled to control his breathing.

Carson appeared out of nowhere rushing up to his patient in concern. He gave Sheppard a questioning look as he took in Rodney's distressed state.

"What's going on here, Major?"

"McKay needed to hear some home truths, Doc. He needed to hear that we care about him."

Never slow on the uptake, Beckett's face relaxed. He too put his hand on McKay's shoulder.

"Deep slow breaths, Rodney. Come on, lad. Slow breaths. It's okay to let it out, Rodney. Just us here." Carson silenced the alarm.

Rodney's sobs could now be heard, and they were heartbreaking.

"Now, now, Rodney. It's okay, lad. Just your friends here. The Major is right, you are among friends. Now breathe, ya daft bugger."

McKay took a hiccupping breath and lowered his arm. His face was wet with tears.

"Slow deep breaths, Rodney," Carson reminded him.

Rodney obeyed Carson, taking even breaths, trying to control his emotions though his breath kept hitching.

"That's right, Rodney. Much better."

"Hurts," Rodney managed to get out between breaths.

"I'm not surprised; your body can do without these kind of shocks. Hold on, Rodney, I'll get something to help." Beckett flicked the sound of the monitor back on, then left to get the medication.

"How are you feeling now?" asked Sheppard.

"Stupid," responded McKay.

"Can I have that in writing?" Sheppard replied with a smirk.


Sheppard smiled. "Didn't think so. We haven't finished our talk, you know. Once you are out of here I have some making up to do."

"Major, you make it sound like we are dating." Rodney's caustic manner was beginning to reassert itself.

Sheppard grinned. "Well, there are lots of different types of relationships. One thing they have in common, though, is that most of them require work to keep them going. I happen to think our friendship might just turn out to be a great one. I, for one want to work to make sure it keeps on track."

Rodney blinked away tears. "Oh God, you've set me off again. You shouldn't take advantage of a sick and weakened man, Major."

"Worried about looking silly, McKay?"

Rodney's face took on a familiar superior look. "Not really, Major. Have you seen the state of your hair lately?"

Rodney lay in bed listening to the sounds of the infirmary around him. There was the steady beep of his monitor next to him, telling him all was well. He could hear soft-soled shoes as people moved around. He could hear Beckett's gentle voice as he talked to the only other patient in the infirmary. He wasn't feeling any pain, Beckett's voodoo medicine working like the charm that it was. He didn't know the time, but it would be dinnertime soon. Rodney wondered what was on the menu tonight. He could never understand the bad rep hospital food got. Of course, here it was stuff from the Atlantis' mess hall. His stomach growled in anticipation.

The major would be here soon; he was in a briefing with Elizabeth at the moment. Ford and Teyla had said they would visit after dinner.

That Radek guy, the Czech, had popped in earlier, Rodney didn't really know why, but for some reason Radek said he would visit again. Maybe he wanted to complain about McKay's replacement.

Despite taking over in Rodney's absence Kavanagh hadn't bothered to come by, but McKay wasn't surprised, the guy seemed an idiot.

McKay had plans to get hold of his treasured laptop tomorrow, with Sheppard's help, but for now he was content to lie back and let the world turn around him. He allowed himself a small smile. He liked life in Atlantis, and it appeared that Atlantis liked him. He felt strangely content. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, but he liked it. Here in Atlantis he had found friends. Pity it had taken traveling to another galaxy to do it, but, whatever it took, he was glad. He was home.

How can you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where I've become so numb without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home

'Bring me to life' by Evanescence

The End!