"Tam, Tammy, TAMITHA!"

My eyes shot open, the horrific war scene in front of me slowly fading. Bruce was hovering over me, clearly distraught.

"Tammy, what's going on?" Bruce asked. I stared at him for a moment, then everything crashed down on me. All the memories that I had buried deep in my mind were just resurfaced. I started sobbing, Bruce picking me up, and sitting on the floor, holding me in his lap. Bruce held me, slightly rocking, not saying a word, and rubbing my back, just letting me cry. After about ten minutes, my sobbing started to cease. I felt tired, and scared.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Bruce asked. I shook my head.

"Do you think you can fall back to sleep?" I shook my head again. Bruce sighed.

"Well, I guess we can find something to do then." Bruce patted my back, telling me to stand so he can get up. I got up, and helped him stand. Bruce put on a shirt, and grabbed a couple blankets. He opened the door and took my hand, leading me somewhere through the headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D.. We ended up in a recreational room, which was smaller than I thought it would be. There was a little kitchen, like one you'd see in a fancy hotel; a flat screen T.V.; a dark gray wrap-around couch and a coffee table in front of it. It had the T.V. Remote, a few coasters and a couple magazines stashed under it. Bruce forced me to sit down on the couch, dropping the blankets beside me. He went into the tiny kitchen, I heard him start up the coffee machine. It was quiet, the only sound was the coffee machine brewing whatever Bruce was intending on giving me. I looked the blankets for a while before picking one up and wrapping it around myself. I curled into a ball, so my whole body was inside the warm embrace of the blanket.

Bruce sat down next to me and handed me a mug.

"Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better." He muttered, sipping at mug that was in his hands. I sniffed and found out that Bruce and I were drinking the same thing. I tentatively took a sip of it. The drink turned out to be tea, and it tasted nice, so I kept sipping it little by little. And little by little I started to feel better. Bruce sat down next to me, and I curled up, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Were they the same nightmares as before?" Bruce asked after a few sips of his tea. I shook my head.

"Were they worse than the nightmares from before?" I wavered my hand, saying it was half and half. It went quiet again.

"Were they about him?"

I stopped midsip of my tea. I pulled my lips away from the drink and swallowed what had already been in my mouth. I sat up and put the mug of tea on a coaster that was on the coffee table. I looked rolled myself back up in the blankets and laid down, opposite of where Bruce was sitting. I heard my brother sigh and get up, then shuffle over to where my head was. With a crack of his knees he sat on the floor, getting face to face with me. He fished my hand out from the blankets and clasped his hands around mine.

"Tammy, I'm not going to make you talk about it. But, if it's about," Bruce hesitated, "Him, you need to tell me."

I averted my gaze, focusing on a strand of my hair. After a few moments of silence Bruce spoke again;

"Tamitha, it's only going to get worse if you don't talk about it."

"Bruce," I finally spoke, "There was more than just one."

I felt my nose and eyes start to prickle as my lip wavered. I let out a choked sob, my throat hurt from how it clenched to try and hold it back. Bruce just held my hand, rubbing it in his hands.

"Th-they were suh-so viv-vivid, I-I-I was suh-so scared-" I managed out.

"Breathe. . . Just take your time, sis."

Slowly but surely, I had told Bruce the nightmares. The one involving Lucas Scale, and Clint. I had calmed down a bit when Bruce spoke up.

"What about the one from tonight?"

I went rigid. I curled farther into myself, trying to hide. I could that Bruce sensed my unease.

"Tam-"

"It was about Luke," I muttered, "And Reh-Red. . . And-"

I tried to keep talking, but couldn't, the painful memories flashing before me again. Blood, and death, something I didn't want to imagine anymore. Bruce got up and picked me up, hugging me. He sat me down in his lap as he cradled me, trying to let me know that I was safe. That it was in the past and I couldn't get hurt. But, that's what hurt the most, that it was the past. I couldn't change what had happened that day. I couldn't change that Red died, I couldn't change that Luke had turned into walking shrapnel, I couldn't change that the love of my life was gone, and that he didn't even know it.

"Why did they have to die, Bruce?" I let out, a choked sob following. "Why did he have to die?"

Bruce rubbed my back.

"I don't know."

"I loved him Bruce, I was going to tell him, and we were going to get married as soon as we got out. Reh-Red was going to be the meh-maid of honor. Luh-Luke, was going to beh-be the best man."

Bruce stayed quiet, letting me say all the things I've been holding back for years.

"Bruce, how come as soon as I'm happy again, ah-as soon as I've gotten over eh-everything that had happened. . . Heh-how come it has to come back?"

"You know I don't have an answer-"

"Exactly!" I pulled away from Bruce and stood.

"If there's no answer then why is it happening?! Why?! I want an answer and I want to prove how much bullshit it is." I plopped back down to the couch, wiping at my face.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I asked. Bruce just stared at me, unable to think of a proper answer to the whole situation. He sighed and rubbed his face.

"I don't know."