"Thunder?! Thunder where are you?!" Mandara called out, it was very dark and he couldn't see anyone or anything.  There was a palpable feeling of malice in the air and it made the country very nervous.  As Mandara continued to gaze out into the darkness, his eyes begun to make out the silhouette of a person in the distance.

"Thunder!" Mandara shouted and begun to run to the figure, but when he was about halfway there he noticed that the person didn't seem to have wings, so he skidded to a halt.  "Th-Thunder?" he said uncertainty.

"Afraid not, my little Songbird." the figure spoke, in a voice that Mandara had learned to deeply fear.

"N-No, no i-it can't be." Mandara stuttered, utterly terrified.

A light illuminated the figure, revealing him to be Ussr.  The communist smiled coldly at Mandara, "Long time no see, my pet," he purred in that familiar, malicious voice, "did you miss me?"

"THUNDER!!!  THUNDER HELP!!!"  Mandara screamed, but Ussr just laughed,

"It's no use to call for your precious militant entity Songbird, he can't hear you anymore."

Mandara's eyes widened "W-What d-do you mean?  W-What did you do to him!?"

With another devilish smile, Ussr gestured to an area behind him that suddenly lit up, revealing Mandara Army, lying on the ground, shot in the head.

"NO!!!!!" Mandara screamed again, but before he could react, he was grabbed by the throat and shoved against a wall.  Mandara tried to struggle, but he was paralyzed by fear.

"Don't worry, you'll be with him soon."  Ussr whispered in his ear, then he pulled out a knife from behind his back, "say goodbye Mandara."

Ussr raised the knife over his head, Mandara closed his eyes and prepared for the devil himself to kill him, all the while "Mandara" was echoing in his ears.

Mandara

Mandara

Mandara

"MANDARA!!! WAKE UP!!!"

Mandara's eyes shot open as he screamed and grabbed onto something that was shaking him, which turned out to be MA.

"HEY!! Hey, it's ok! It was just a dre-" MA started, but was interrupted by Mandara wrapping his arms and wings around his brother, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Th-Thunder!  I-I was-, a-and you were-, I th-thought that-" Mandara bawled incoherently, he was shaking so violently that MA thought he was going to fall off his bed.

"Shhh, it's ok Trigger, it's ok."  MA hushed him, he sat down with Mandara on the bed and just held him close, rubbing his back and wings comfortingly while the dogs looked on with concern.  Nightmares were all too common for Mandara ever since he came home from the hospital, which made healing take longer than it should have because he would thrash around in his sleep, reopening wounds.  MA had spent many sleepless nights calming him down after an episode, and it made Mandara feel awful that he was keeping him awake.

"You ok now?" MA asked after a while, Mandara nodded his head but didn't look at him.  MA hugged him a little tighter and looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand, 5:23.  

MA hummed with interest then suggested, "Hey, why don't you get dressed, and I'll make us some breakfast, does that sound good?"  Mandara nodded again, so MA gave him a few last pats on the back, then got up and left the bedroom with Tank trailing behind him. 

Flurry stayed with Mandara to comfort him as he sat on his bed for a bit, thinking about the nightmare that he just had. 

"God damn it Mandara," he cursed himself, "that was years ago, why haven't you gotten over it?" he was angry at himself, he was acting like a child who was afraid of their own shadow, it made him feel weak.

Eventually, he got up and walked over to his closet, not bothering to turn on the lights.  As he was fishing around his shirts, he passed over his uniform and paused.  After Ussr had died, Kazakhstan was generous enough to return it to him, he was grateful of course but he couldn't look at it without bad memories flooding his mind, memories of pain, blood, and Ussr's evil laughter.  Mandara winced and looked away, grabbed a random shirt, and quickly shut the closet door.  After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he got dressed, wrapped up his arms in bandages, and walked out of his room with Flurry following close behind.

MA was in the kitchen when Mandara came downstairs, he quietly sat down at the bar area and tiredly watched his militant entity fry some eggs.  Well, he could only half-watch, because he was blind in his right eye from Ussr.  The eye took a long time to heal, only second to his wings, but when it did it had changed to a greyish-silver hue, which MA said made his eyes look like the sun and moon to make him feel better, and it did, a little.

"There you are," MA said without turning, "I was beginning to think you fell back asleep."

"No," Mandara groaned, rubbing his eyes, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep for the next week."

"Oh, that dream again huh."

"Yeah, I hate that I keep having them, even after it's been so long."

MA glanced over his shoulder, he also hated that his brother was being terrorized by these dreams.  Five years had passed and he still wasn't over the trauma, but then again, who in their right mind could get over something like that?

Once MA was done making breakfast, he took the plates over to the bar area and sat down next to Mandara, who was resting his head on his arms, still slightly tired.  MA set Mandara's plate in front of him, he looked up at it but didn't touch it.  The militant sighed and put his wing around his brother to comfort him, and the two just sat in silence.

"Thunder," Mandara said into his arms after a while.

"Hmm?"

"You have been through traumatic things when your fighting, right?"

MA stopped eating and turned to him, "Yeah, of course, it's unavoidable in war, why?"

Mandara lifted his head slightly to look at him, "I have never seen you scared or have nightmares, how do you handle it so well?"

MA stared at him for a bit, then let out a long exhale before explaining, "Well ... when you're leading brave men and woman into battle, you know all too well that many of them are not going to return, and I often have dreams about them coming back to life to seek vengeance on the one who led them to their deaths."

"Really?!" Mandara said surprised, MA nodded, "Yup, but one thing I have learned over the centuries is to just accept it happened and move on."

"What do you mean?" Mandara asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I mean that horrible things happen to good people all the time," MA answered, "and that you can't dwell on it.  If you keep feeding the bad memories, they will eventually grow big enough to consume you.  Instead, you put your past behind you and focus on the good things in your life now.  You understand?"

Mandara slowly nodded, "Yeah, I think I do, if I just forget the past, then everything will get better, right?"

MA gave him a serious look, "No, I never said 'forget', you shouldn't ever forget your past no matter how painful it is.  If you forget then you won't learn from your past and you're bound to make the same mistakes.  What you do is put those memories somewhere safe and out of the way, so you don't have to think about it every day."

"Oh ... ok" Mandara responded, then turned his attention elsewhere, contemplating MA's advice.

After breakfast, MA suggested they go for a morning flight to help get Mandara's mind off his troubles, but the country declined.  

"Come on Trigger, a little fresh air could do you some good, help clear your mind." MA persisted, 

Mandara shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh, "Thunder, you know very well that I can't fly anymore."

MA frowned, "You don't know that though, the doctors said your wings are fully healed now, if you just tried-"

"NO DEROGAN!!!" Mandara shouted, his wings flared open and his left eye glowing in anger, the other one remained dark from his blindness.  MA staggered back utterly shocked, Derogan was his name before he became Mandara Army, and he hasn't been called that since he became MA, so Mandara must have been really pissed.  After an intense staredown between the brothers, Mandara thundered away to his room, slamming the door behind him, leaving MA stunned at his sudden mood swing.

When Mandara locked himself in his room, he angrily shoved everything on his nightstand off before dropping down on his bed.  Mandara was so furious because this wasn't the first time MA had bothered him about flying, even though he knew why he wouldn't do it.  It wasn't a fact of if he could fly, it was that he was too scared to, thanks to what happened with Ussr.  With the memories starting to flashback in his mind, Mandara started to cry and mutter to himself.

"What is wrong with me," he said with a shaky breath, "why am I acting like this, I never yell at Thunder, let alone scream his name."  Mandara then pulled his legs close to his body and just sat there crying.  "I c-can't do this anymore, i-it's too much, it's ... t-too ... m-much."

MA was outside Mandara's door listening to him crying, he was really worried about his brother, especially now that he heard that the country had basically given up.  When MA hadn't heard anything but crying for the past few minutes, he slowly slid down the door and leaned his back against it.  He felt so powerless, he wanted to help Mandara so bad, but he just didn't know how to.  After a while, Tank padded up to MA to make sure he was ok, giving him a few reassuring kisses.

"It's ok Tank, I'm fine." he said, softly scratching his dog's neck, "but Trigger isn't, and I don't know what to do."

Tank whined a little, he then lay down and set his head on MA's lap, like he was saying not to worry, that everything was going to be ok.  

MA seemed to read his mind as he said, "I hope so buddy, I genuinely hope so." he leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes, praying that his brother was going to be ok.

(P.S. I don't know how PTSD works, but I think I did ok)