He sits on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. He doesn't sleep anymore. He can't. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees that face. It doesn't go away.
Resting his head on his knees, he wonders what he's going to do for the night. He can't go to the training room anymore; it dawned on him that it became obvious to the others in his squad that he doesn't sleep. Now he hides in his room quietly to fool them. He stays awake for days on end, running purely on determination and reluctance to fall asleep naturally. The only rest he gets is when he collapses from exhaustion, and that's the only time he gets dreamless sleep. His mind is too tired to give him images to watch as his body recuperates. Unfortunately for him, his last collapse was two days ago; he has at least three more days until his next one.
"What I am going to do tonight?" he whispers to himself, sliding his finger over his dampened face. "Damn, it's hot in here."
He leans back against the headboard to his bed. He silently wishes the nightmares would go away. He wishes the images of the darkened face would vanish. He wishes that the day when they will be face to face again will never come. He wishes he will never have to fight the man who taught him everything...
He wishes.
Awake.