"Tina, you don't need to worry. I'm here for you."
. . .
"Tina, you gave to run. They'll come for you if you stay."
Tintin awakes with a jolt, drenched in a cold sweat. Snowy is abruptly awakened by his master's sudden movement, and opens a drowsy eye to peer at him. "They're happening again," Tintin thinks to himself, "those damned nightmares." It's been almost ten years since he moved in with Captain Haddock, and only one since the wac figure incident with Rastapopoulos. He was nearly thirty now.
Tintin slid out of bed wearily, still remembering the nightmare vividly.
X x X
The big, yellow eyes stared back through the brush, with a snarl emitting from it just as large. Tina lay sprawled on the ground, looking up at the creature. Her breathing was elevated, and her legs were trembling, despite being scraped up and bruised. She got up slowly and began backing away until the claws shot out of the bush towards her. She screamed and ran, not caring about the twigs and branches tearing at her legs.
X x X
Tintin shivered at the thought of the scene in his head. He didn't know whose nightmare he was seeing, or why there was a wolf chasing him, but he was pretty damn sure that scream wasn't his. He'd never screamed like a little girl in his life. He sat still on the side of his bed, shuffling his feet into his slippers. This wasn't the first time he'd had that dream, but it still frightened him every time. He still didn't understand why he had them either.
X x X
"Papa!" Tina screamed, "Papa!" The wolf was almost surely gaining on her. She could hear the claws click against the exposed tree roots moments after she jumped over one. Papa would be furious to see her dress was torn, but would be more worried about the scrapes and bruises and the wolf chasing her.
"Tina!" She heard Papa's booming voice, "Tina, what's wrong?! Where are you?!" Tina stumbled as she hopped over another exposed root. "The shotgun, Papa, get the shotgun!" She was nearing the house now, and it didn't take long for Papa to arrive, thundering down the path towards her. "Run faster, Tina! Get behind me!" She ran for cover just as-
Bang!
A yelp soon followed.
X x X
Tintin rubbed the towel over his head after turning the water off. He sighed heavily, looking in the mirror above the sink. He looked worse for wear, his hair sticking up in odd points. How many times has he had these nightmares? He had lost track over the years. He never thought to talk to anyone about them, they were too strange. He glanced back up into the mirror.
X x X
Tina looked fearfully up at Papa. He was a tall, burly man who could be rather frightening. He had a hell of a temper, but was also very soft at times. She didn't know how he would react to this. "Tina." She flinched and averted her eyes. "Tina, what have I told you about going into the woods alone? What would you have done if I hadn't come home and seen you weren't in your room?" Papa had crouched down to be level with Tina. She approached hesitantly. Papa motioned her to him, opening his arms wide. She rushed into his arms, beginning to cry.
"I'm sorry, Papa, I'm sorry. I got bored and I thought I heard a puppy whining!" She winced as Papa brought his hand up, but relaxed when he brought his hand down softly on her head. "You're not mad at me, are you, Papa?" Tina squeaked. Papa sighed, "I am, but I'm more concerned about your injuries, and I know you're shaken."
X x X
"Tintin!" Haddock called from the other side of the bedroom door, "Come down for breakfast!" Tintin grunted and opened the door as he finished pulling on his sweater. "Blistering barnacles, Tintin. You look like you fell out the window into the bushes!" Haddock murmured as Tintin stepped out. Tintin shook his head, "I feel like I did." "Are you alright, lad?" Tintin sighed and shook his head, "Not really." Haddock brought his hand up to feel the younger man's forehead. "Go back to sleep, lad. I'll have Nestor bring your breakfast up to you." Tintin nodded wearily.
He stepped back into his room and closed the door. He shucked his shirts off and looked in the mirror. He ran his fingers over the scars on his chest. He never knew where they came from, but they were a few inches below his nipples. He didn't recall ever getting cut on his chest, especially cuts that looked that deep. He tried to think about it, but nothing came up. He shook his head and slipped back into bed.