Darkness. That was the only thing he could currently see. Then, a single light flicked on above, as though coming from some unseen lamp. Then, the sound of an old movie player. He realized that he was sprawled on the blackness that was the floor, and he quickly made to get up, only to have his memories suddenly play out in frayed yellow and grey. His mother, his father. It then hit him that he had to get out, get out before—
"Hello, "Agent Nein"."
He tried to speak, but it felt as though his throat had been dried up. All around him, his father mourning his mother, the wedding ring tossed in the trash.
"All your fault," he could hear the hiss coming from nowhere but everywhere. He wanted to shout, "Who are you, where are you, why are you doing this?" but it was as useless as trying to talk without a tongue. He looked up, looking around at his father's loss, and he attempted to run, only to progress further into the horridness, the hissing only growing louder, as though more and more of whatever the source happened to be was multiplying.
"NEVER LOVED YOU, ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU MADE HIM THROW AWAY THE RING, YOU TORE THEM APART, AWFUL AWFUL CHILD, NEVER SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED, THEY WOULD'VE BEEN HAPPY IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, SASHA, NEVER LOVED YOU, SASHA."
The hissing didn't cease, his name swirling around as he collapsed to the floor, the voices seeming to surround him. He clutched his head, tried to scream, "SASHA," tried to shout, "SASHA," his mouth only opening and closing inaudibly as it all collected up in a wave, about to crash down on him, consume him entirely in the chaos, when—
"Sasha, darling, wake up!"
He bolted up into a pair of comforting arms. His breaths were shaky and uncertain, sunglasses slightly askew as he tried to get his bearings. He took note of the brightly patterned sleeves wrapped around him, and opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to mind.
'M…Milla?"
"Shhh," he heard a voice whisper by his ear. "It was only a nightmare, you're fine, honey." Glancing around, he realized that he was in his bedroom, a place where he was often not to be found in. It took him a moment, but he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. His breathing was slower now, less tense. He didn't know how, but she had this way of making even the worst situations seem safer.
A question came to his mind. "What're you doing here, Agent Vodello?"
She let go of him for a moment, giving him a concerned look. "I wanted to stop by and say hello, but when I came down here, you were asleep at your desk. I figured that I shouldn't just leave you out there, so I brought you in here." "Telekinesis, of course," he thought. "How sweet of her."
"I thought you might want something to eat when you woke up," she continued. " So I went down to the lodge to get us a few burgers. But when I came back, I heard you screaming, so I tried to wake you up."
"Milla, you really didn't have to—" She quickly placed a finger over his lips. "Shush, Sasha. I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." She gave him a smile, before reaching down to the side of the bed and picking up a bag. "Now, do you want your burger, or not?"
"Damn, it's almost like her smile is contagious." He found himself grinning as well, a very rare thing for the man to be found doing. "Yes, Milla."
For that small while, just being in each other's presences, laughing over recent missions, they both felt safe, in a sort of way that no nightmare could ever hurt them.