Brothers in Arms

Eclipse: Terror and Tribulations

I snap awake, flung out of a nightmare with a strangled cry. I fly into a sitting position, convinced of some near threat, but nothing moves in the unfamiliar, dark room surrounding me. My hearts are hammering, and I gradually become aware that I am gasping for breath.

G.U.N., I realize, remembering where I am. This is my cell. I scan the walls, but, by now, I am convinced my terror was not caused by any physical threat.

What was that about? I wonder, slowly getting my breathing back under control. When my airflow is measured and quiet again, I return my mind to the horrible dream.

This one was new, I think, comparing it to the others I have suffered over these past months. Original? No. But new. I rub my hand over my skull, the slight rasping sound the contact makes soothing me, reminding me that I am in the real world now. Unfortunately, it will not do to tell myself the nightmare was not real.

It was just my memories coming back for a visit, I reassure myself, but my emotions resist the attempt at reigning in. As always after moments like these, I find my anger at Shadow rekindled, snapping at its confinements. Even that fire flickers against the chasm of my grief, though. My dreams are so real, my mind is swearing to me that, only seconds before, I was fighting that fateful battle again.

It really is too much.

Calm down, I scold myself. I do not usually have so much trouble soothing my mind, having many experiences with it. I can often put night terrors out of my mind by focusing on the present, but my thoughts feel too scattered to effectively do that right now.

Just relax, I say firmly to myself, forcing my quivering body back down to the bed. I shuffle around a bit, finding a comfortable position with my pillow, but all the energy in my post-panic form makes me overheat wherever the blanket touches. I toss it entirely off after a minute of wrestling with it, resigning myself to a long night.

I wonder what time it is. I sigh internally, knowing it cannot be morning. The motion lights are on a clocked sensor for daytime only; that way, I am not woken during moments of restless sleep. Not that that helps much now, I mutter. And, really, it would be nice to have some light, just to convince myself that I really am on Mobius, not on the New Black Comet, which my body seems to think.

Well, anyways, I need to go to sleep. I try to empty my mind, focusing on my physical sensations, but my thoughts continue whirring.

I am doing everything I can to recover from my past. I am here at G.U.N., making a new life for myself, and that is all I can ask for, I recite. I do not need to be haunted by the faces of those I can remember clearly. My past is neither abandoned nor forgotten.

Thankfully, it seems the mantra, when thought enough times, is enough to calm me. I slip back into sleep, and I spend the night dancing around nightmares, just aware enough of my identity that I can leap out of them before they wake me.

...

Ironically, when I finally do come to, it is like being dragged from quicksand. My mind reaches clumsily for the restful state it just left, but a hand shaking my shoulder anchors it back in the present. My vision is blurry, tired eyes unfocused when I open them. Despite that, thought, I can recognize Topaz easily, with her body language and scent.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she teases, and I attempt to smile, but it is wan at best. I do not know exactly why I try, since she undoubtedly knows I have night terrors, but I have still never mentioned them to her. I suppose I do not her to be worried, although I could use someone to talk about them with.