A/N: I do not own Across the Universe. I do not own Max. I do not own Jude. I do not own Lucy.

--0--

The sheets were rolled in a ball, falling off the side of the queen-sized bed. The pillows were spread apart, one at the foot of the bed, and one at the edge, near falling off. It was dark outside, so early in the morning that the sun had yet to rise. The crooked blinds revealed this, along with revealing a cracked glass window, covered in a thin sheen of dust and grime from the outside.

Moaning, groaning, cries of fear and pain erupted from the mouth of an abnormally thin man, sleeping in the bed. His blond hair was matted to his forehead, thick with sweat. His chest and face were shiny with that same sweat, and his legs were kicking out fiercely.

Max Carrigan had just ended his stint in Vietnam, and he had just been released from the hospital. He was back in his house, back with his friends, driving his taxi. Why did these dreams haunt him so?

Just a simple peek into his mind could give one nightmares for years. His memories were horrible ones. People dying left and right. Bombs blowing off in his face. A shard of metal flying up and smacking him hard in the skull. Passing out on the battle field, blood all over his face.

Have you ever felt it? Have you ever felt blood on your face and not known whether it was yours?

--0--

It was crazy in the giant swamp known as Vietnam. Why was he here? He was here for a country that didn't appreciate his services. They wouldn't care if he died... they just want peace. He wanted peace too! Didn't they see that? Why was he here?!

There were crashes and loud shots from all around him. His heart was pumping faster and faster as he reached up and felt his helmet. It was still on, protecting his head from shots. He held his gun out in front of him, charging forward into an open field. A field he knew was filled with the enemy. He shot and screamed and shot and screamed until he went hoarse, then he just shot. His comrades were falling all around him.

Kyle from Michigan fell beside him. He was married, three weeks ago was the three year anniversary. Nick from New Jersey took a shot to the head. He fell to his knees first, then face planted to the ground. Blood was spewing from his head, the bullet had gone straight through. Bo from California was standing right in front of Max. Bo turned to give Max a command, but before he could get words out his face contorted into one of such pain, Max couldn't recognize it, and he crumpled, his legs broken under him.

Max screamed, he screamed as loud as he could as Bo's blood burst onto his face, splattering everywhere. Max immediately fell to his knees and vomited. He was so vulnerable, his gun was beside him. The hot flow fell out of his mouth and onto the ground, littering the red stained ground. Max jumped up as fast as he could, grabbing his gun in one swift motion.

Max couldn't see what was happening, damn head rush, before he knew it a land mine was exploding only two feet away from him, sending him flying backwards. Shards of metal and bone shot at him, he managed to dodge a few, but he was still clipped in the head.

The pain. The pain was horrendous. It shot through his entire body, even though only his head was hit. His legs fell numb, followed by his arms. He gasped as the pain chorused through his neck and torso, his eyes shutting. He took in a withering breath, then slumped against a tree, his head falling lull to his shoulder. He wanted to scream, he felt people shaking him, calling his name. He wanted to respond.

"Max. MAX!"

The voice was a woman's, and one he recognized. Her voice was so worried, wavering with tears. She spoke again, and Max realized who it was.

"MAX! WAKE UP!"

--0--

Max's eyes flew open. The pool of blue flew around the room so fast it made him dizzy. Finally his eyes fell on Lucy, and he heaved a sigh of relief. He was laying in his bed, he was home in New York.

"Max. Are you OK? What happened?" Lucy asked, her blue eyes were filled with tears of fear, watching her brother.

Max squirmed under her gaze, "Nothing. It was just a nightmare I guess." he said quietly. He looked to his good friend Jude, hearing his English accent rupture the current silence of the room.

"Didn't sound like just a nightmare." Jude said. Max shot him a glare that told him to shut up. Lucy was worried enough as it was, Max didn't need to worry her further. His gaze was brought back to Lucy as he reached up and touched her face.

"I'm fine Luce. Really." he said quietly. His voice didn't betray him. The fear from his dream still lingered in the pit of his stomach. Those images from war would be branded in his memory forever, no amount of briefing could change that. "Don't worry about me."

Lucy was watching him skeptically, but she finally nodded, sniffling again. "We've been trying to wake you up for five minutes. And you wouldn't open your eyes. You were just screaming. It was awful." she said, her voice breaking over the last syllable.

"I'm fine. I swear Lucy." Max replied, knowing that it was a lie. "I'm just tired." he added. Jude took this as a hint and left the doorway, going back to the room he shared with Lucy. Lucy began to follow, before Max grasped her arm. "Will you... Will you just sit here with me for a little while?" he asked. This time, his voice did give him away, it quavered as he spoke, and he was embarrassed by it.

Lucy nodded silently, then crawled into the bed beside Max, leaning her head lightly against her chest. This was her brother. He had gone through so much in his twenty-seven years. The verbal beatings from his parents, the moving to New York, the dope, the near overdoses, the war. And now, as Lucy lay in the bed, she swore she would protect him. She would protect him forever.