A/N: Hello! I know I haven't updated this in a few weeks, which is why I'm back! *cheers* Yaaay! Also- Jack is Archer's father's name, just so you'll know.

Enjoy the super angsty chapter! :D Btw, you guys don't need to read the part below this. It's just to remind me so I don't forget to include a certain part next chapter.

Reminder for me- *Remove the stitches in Archer's arm next chapter*

Archer P.O.V

At some point I had fallen asleep. Ah, sleep. It was such a peaceful place. You didn't need to worry about anything while you were asleep. Nothing hurt, nothing stressed you out. There was just... nothing. And it was nice.

Well, it was until the nightmares came. Nightmares are a terrible thing. They drag you away from the warm, peaceful land of sleep into a dark hole filled with fear and despair. Monsters track you down, following you relentlessly until they manage to trap you in some dark corner of your mind.

After that anything can happen. And that's what scares me the most. I hate the unpredictable. I always have and always will, hence my hatred of blindness. Without my sight, anything can happen because I wouldn't be able to see anything I needed to avoid.

Blindness makes you ignorant. You aren't aware of your surroundings, which means you're vulnerable. I hate being vulnerable. But finally- vulnerability leads to the feeling of complete and utter helplessness.

And I loathe that feeling more than anything. I had always felt it, all throughout my childhood because of my bastard of a father. God, I hate that man. No, he doesn't deserve to be called a man, because he's not. He's a coward who had had a habit of beating his wife, and if he got the chance, his son.

He continued to beat me, even after mom had passed away. I suppose old habits die hard. That was why I had joined the army in the first place, to get away from him. Just thinking about ever going on leave made me shake with fear because I had no other family, nowhere else to stay other than with him.

Yeah, I hated the guy and wanted nothing more than to stab him in his ugly face. But I was also terrified of him, probably too much so to ever willingly go near him again.

I often saw him, in my nightmares, which brings me to what was happening now...

I was 14 again, running desperately from the furious, stomping footsteps thundering along behind me. Jack was coming. No no no, please no!

Tears raced down my cheeks, blurring my vision as my exhausted legs continued to carry me down the corridor. But for how much longer?

I skidded around a corner, so frenzied that I had forgotten it was a dead end. I spun around faster than I thought possible and tried to go back the other way, but Jack had already blocked the exit.

He stood there, his arms crossed as he smiled triumphantly. Even from nearly ten feet away, I could smell the pungent stench of alcohol radiating off of him.

The familiar smell clogged my nostrils, causing my panic to skyrocket, my heart thumping loudly in my ears. Honestly I was shocked he couldn't hear it.

"I knew I would catch you at some point, you good for nothing little whore." He slurred, lurching drunkenly to the side.

I mistook that for the right moment to move. It wasn't. I rushed forward and kicked him in the groin as hard as I could before swerving around him and bolting down the hallway.

Sadly for me, he recovered much faster than I thought any man could after receiving such a blow. His arm snaked around my neck and the next thing I knew, I was pinned under him on the floor, struggling to breathe.

"You really thought you would get away with that, bitch?! You'll never get away from me. I'll teach you a damn good lesson for doing that, you little freak!"

He straddled my hips, keeping his right forearm on my neck, efficiently cutting off my oxygen and holding me in place all at once. He launched a viscous jab at my face, hitting me square in the nose. I heard a pop and screamed weakly as blood went everywhere.

"Shut up, you useless excuse for a human! If the neighbors hear, you're dead!" He growled, grabbing me by the hair and wrenching my head up.

I released a strangled cry- well, it was more of a croak because of my lack of air- as he stood, keeping a painfully tight grip on my hair and dragging me along as well.

He dragged me further down the hall, and by the time he stopped I was sure he had yanked all of my hair out, as well as parts of my scalp. My head pulsed in time with my frantic heartbeat as he dumped me on the floor, releasing his grip on me.

I faintly heard water running and dumbly wondered why he needed water. I was so tired, but I knew bad things would happen if I didn't get away. I gathered the small amount of energy I had left and began to crawl away as fast as I could, which, for the record, wasn't fast in any way imaginable.

That was when a boot rammed into my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs and causing bruises to begin to form along the area almost immediately. I tried to get up, but was harshly kicked down again.

He kicked me again and again, until it was impossible for me to retaliate in any way, all the while furiously shouting profanities and hurtful words. My blood soaked the floor, as well as the lower half of my face, my shirt, and Jack's hands.

He had broken several of my ribs, leaving others cracked and bruised as well. Every shallow breath I took felt like I was being stabbed brutally in the side with a knife covered in lava.

It was not a pleasant feeling. In fact, I believe it was as far away from pleasant as it was possible to get. I was wrong for the second time that night. Jack grabbed me by the hair again, pulling me into the bathroom and draping me over the edge of the tub.

The porcelain dug excruciatingly into my injured ribs and I shrieked, pulling back about an inch before he grabbed me and forced me to bend over it again. Blood dripped from my nose, into the water below and turning it almost pink. How pretty, I thought absently.

"We'll see if you ever dare to defy me again after this." He laughed cruelly, shoving my head under the freezing water that filled the tub.

The only thought that managed to get through the wreck of all my scrambled ones was- I can't breathe. The water was so cold and I had gasped in surprise when he shoved me under, inhaling the water into my lungs and making things worse.

My lungs burned for oxygen and I bucked against Jack's hand in an attempt to get the precious air that lingered just above the surface. My ribs screamed at me in protest of being crushed against the unforgiving porcelain.

It was terrifying, knowing that Jack of all people had control over my life at that moment. He's gonna kill me. I know it. Gray spots danced across my blurry vision and I stopped struggling as the last of my energy drained away.

He yanked my head up and I had never appreciated oxygen more than I did in that moment. I greedily gasped in huge lungfuls of it, completely disregarding the stabbing pain in my ribs and the uncomfortable sensation of bone scraping against bone.

I vaguely heard him saying something, but couldn't make it out over the incessant pounding in my ears. I didn't care though, he was probably just insulting me anyways. I had oxygen. Nothing else mattered.

Well, it didn't until he shoved me back under again. Nooo! Not again! I choked as I tried feebly to bring more air into my lungs, but received water instead.

"Shhh, calm down, I've got you. It's not real..." A familiar voice in the distance said.

I was going to die. This time he didn't pull me back up until my vision went black, at which point I was barely even conscious. I was violently shaking all over, the tears that spilled from my eyes mixing with the water and blood in the tub.

"Archer! Archer wake up!"

Jack laughed and pulled me back, thankfully away from the tub, and slammed me into the nearest wall. The air I had only just dragged into my lungs was abruptly forced back out of them and I wheezed, trying to regain my breath.

"Hold him down!"

"I'm trying!"

"Well obviously not hard enough!"

I felt like I was going to be sick. Everything hurt so bad. Darkness slowly crept up from the edges of my vision, gradually closing in.

I felt a sharp prick in my arm, and almost immediately waves of exhaustion washed over me, pulling me back into the land of warm, peaceful sleep once again...

A/N: Told ya it was angsty. BOOOM! I wanted to show you guys some of Archer's childhood, which was very sad. *tears* He had a bad one, almost as bad as Roach's. But not quite that terrible.

I was thinking about writing something that had to do with Jack mistreating him... maybe a bit more of his childhood (similar to this) or Archer might have to go on leave for some reason and stay with him.

Ideas? Thoughts? Although the initial question is- is anyone interested in a story involving that? Please let me know in a review or PM! And of course, let me know how the chapter was! Byeee! :D