Birds of Prey

Chapter IX: Nightmares

Jyromir, Ukraine

The third floor was quiet as usual but now it was also darker. The small lamps in the courtyard were casting a warm light that met the cold moonlight on the corridor walls. Once I found the captain’s room, I knocked three times and recieved a 'come in' from the inside. I opened the door with a small squeak and found him sitting at his desk doing some paperwork.

"How was your shower?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the paper. What kind of question was that?

"It was nice. Cold but nice…" I replied with a small smile, not knowing if he remembers that I have no room to sleep in tonight. I sat on a chair next to him, trying to catch his attention but before I did anything he stopped writing and looked at me.

"Wait. You don’t have a room, do ya?" I shook my head awkwardly in response.

"Goddamit, I completely forgot" he pitched the bridge of his nose and got up from the desk, slamming the pen down. "Okay just stay here. I’ll go talk to one of the guards and see what I can do, okay"

"Yes sir" I replied as he closed the door behind him.

I looked around his room in the meantime. Apparently he was writing that report earlier. His handwriting is so cursive yet so messy. I glanced up at the computer on the desk which looked older than me, and then at the bed covered with simple white sheets. They have king sized beds in the military? I thought they slept in big ass rooms with dozens of bunks in it. Not his case I guess.

I got up from the chair and sat on the bed. My eyes fell on a golden-brown watch with brown leather straps on the nightstand. I noticed four shiny stars on the watch face, every one of them set under the twelve, three, six, and nine. It didn’t have any engravings like other watches did but the stars made it even more interesting. Suddenly I heard the door open and I quickly put the watch back into its place.

"They’re full" he said with a small sigh. "This ain’t a hotel and the we already filled the ukranians' base. You can sleep in my room for the night. We are leaving for America in the morning anyway." my eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion.

"And where are you going to sleep"

"In my room"

pause

I was taken aback by his answer. He just confirmed the fact that I’m going to sleep with him ??? WHAT ?! Ok sleeping in the same bed with a man, a person you met like two days ago, especially your superior, was never a good idea. But I ain’t got a choice. I guess is this or the chairs in the hallway probably. I sometimes talk in my sleep. I don’t want to wake him up or make him think I’m some freak. I gave him a long look just to make sure he was serious and then he said.

"Are you okay with this?" his voice kicked me out of my thoughts.

"What? Oh… yes sir of course why wouldn’t I be?" I shuffled a little in my place.

"I don’t know, you seemed to be miles away for a second. I'm not trying anything." And damn he was right. My overthinking took over my brain again. He sat back on his chair and continued writing his report. I didn’t wanna to distrub him or anything so I just sat back on the bed.

"Make yourself comfortable. There are some crackers in that right drawer if you want" I almost forgot I haven’t eaten the entire day. How welcoming of him.

"Thank you" opened the drawer and took out the packet of plain crackers. After a bite I begun devouring them like I spent three months in the desert. Beggars can’t be choosers after all. I looked across the bed and noticed a small and thick black book on the other nightstand. I reached out and grabbed it and then leant back on the white sheets.

"You like Shakespeare?" I asked and he raised his head in a small nod. "Can I take a look?"

"Yes you can but careful with the pages. They’re older than me" I opened the book like it was the holy bible and shuffled some pages until I found a bookmark. It was a feather. A dark brown long feather marking the half of the book. 'Love Sonnets' Goddamn I love these. I remember when we had to read them in highschool for a project. It only made me wonder why was he reading this. Is he some kind of hopeless romantic? I sat back and begun reading, page after page as hours passed by.

After some time, the sun had completely set and the small desk lamp was the only thing dimly lighting the room. I looked up from the pages at the captain. He wasn’t writing anymore. He was… sleeping. With his head on the stack of papers and a pen in his hand. I got up to confirm that he was sleeping. The deep dark circles under his eyes were highlighted by the black half mask. Those aren’t common. Chronic fatigue is not something to play with.

I studied his features as he was so peacefully sleeping and noticed a small scar above his left eyebrow and two thicker ones going under the mask. How can he even sleep with this thing on? I guess that’s because I am here, in the same room, with him. He doesn't trust me. I wanted to take him to bed but I was 100% sure he weighs more than I could carry so I just grabbed the blanket from the bed and placed it slowly over him, trying not to wake him up. He didn’t move a muscle. Damn he was exhausted.

I took the pen out of his hand and put the cap on and then turned off the lamp. I climbed back onto the bed pulled my legs close as I had no blanket to cover myself with anymore.

Goddamn, it was cold. After some moments of moving in my place to warm up I slowly drifted to sleep, trying to get shake off the sad thoughts about my parents. Exhaustion got over my feelings for the first time in my life.


My eyes flew open as I was awakened by some movement nearby. It was still pitch dark, only the moonlight was softly piercing the curtains, tracing some silver lines on the wall. I slowly moved my hand and realised a blanket was covering my body.

I looked to my left and noticed the captain sleeping next to me. Apparently he had woken up at some point from his desk and went to bed. His breathing was fast and I’m sure the mask made it even harder. He was twitching from time to time, his head quickly turning from side to side as he sat on his back. He was having a nightmare for sure. I didn’t dare to go to sleep anymore because my own nightmares would take away all my sleep. Suddenly I heard him mumbling something under the fabric of his mask.

"N…no..no…don’t …..mom…" were the only words I could make out of his rapid breaths. I didn’t move. I just watched silently, hoping that he would calm down eventually but movements made it very clear that he was chasing something in his sleep, something that he was terrified of. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes tight shut as his eyelashes slowly became glassy. Tears. He was crying in his sleep. The mumbling stopped but suddenly he turned his head and torso, facing me. And his mask slipped from his face. I couldn’t quite identify the exact features in the dim moonlight but it surely did contour his proffile. His breaths were heavy, almost touching my skin.

He won’t get any sleep this way. Without second thought, I placed my palm onto his cheek softly, trying my best not to wake him up. It was a thing my mom always did when I couldn’t sleep and perhaps it could help him too.

My fingers met with a thin coat of cold sweat from his cheek. He flicked at my touch but didn’t open his eyes. I slowly caressed his cheek an felt something harsh. Something not so neat as his skin. Scar tissue. Under his eyes, covering the right side of his face, almost completely. They went down his jawline and neck under his shirt. That’s why he’s hiding his face under that mask? This is some… serious… trauma. I carefully ran my index finger over the are where the scars met healthy skin. These are burn marks. His past… it’s still haunting him. Or at least that’s what I thought.

With every second that had passed since my hand touched his face his breaths became more and more calm, his shaking fading away as well. It relaxed me as well eventhough I knew so damn well that it’s extremely wrong and if he would magically wake up and see what I’m doing he wouldn’t talk to me ever again in his entire life. My eyelids were heavy, heavier than when I got to sleep in the first place. The last thing I remember is my hand falling from his face onto the blanket between us and his soft breaths against it.