Clint ran across the lawn, into the forest. The trees were dark, hardly visible in the night. The sky was pure black, without the stars or the moon, but still, an eerie glow bathed the ground.

Natasha suddenly leapt out from behind a tree, fear lighting her eyes. Clint flicked a hand at her, shooting red mist out of his fingers and disintegrating her into tiny particles, which rose into the sky and scattered on the wind.

Wanda appeared on the path, glaring at Clint in hatred through narrowed eyes. He swept his hand in her direction, making her fade with a flash of red.

Clint heard rushed footsteps behind him and whipped around quickly, raising his hand.
On the ground in front of him was Pietro. The younger man was bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest. No doubt about it, the wound was made by Clint's powers. Clint watched helplessly as Pietro bled to death, his life pouring out onto the leaf covered ground. The floor washed with red, the smell of blood clogging Clint's senses. He started to run towards Pietro but he just seemed to move further away, like he was sprinting backwards. A cruel, cold voice echoed through the darkness.

'It's your fault. All of it. It's because of you.'

Clint sat bolt upright on the bed, moving to his knees, gasping in the air, a sticky sheen of sweat covering his body.

"Clint, are you okay?"

Heart beating unnaturally loud, Clint hardly heard the voice, running his hands through his wet hair; he rested his head in his palms. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to breathe normally but finding that the only way he could get air was to gulp it in, like he would never had enough to fill his lungs. The voice sounded again, more urgent this time and Clint covered his ears with his hands.

He was properly, truly scared now.

That was the worst nightmare he had ever experienced. There was quite a long list of those.

A muffled banging noise sounded and Clint knew it was the door opening. Soft hands took hold of his wrists but they were not strong enough to pull Clint's hands away from his ears. He kept them firmly pressed against the side of his head, shaking his head. Suddenly he heard a voice echo in his mind, sounding like all the people Clint had ever known, but it was still one clear voice.

'Clint. Open your eyes.'

'No… No, no, no.' Clint thought, shaking his head even more fiercely, refusing to obey.

'Listen. You can't go on like this. Let me help you. Let me…'

'Leave me alone!' He shouted in his mind, interrupting the calm voice.

'You need help. Let me help.' The voice repeated.

'You can't! You can't help me!'

'I can, Clint. I promise, if you let me in… I can help.'

Clint slowly opened his eyes, finding the kind face of Wanda in front of him. Allowing her to ease his hands away from the sides of his head, Clint found that he was trembling uncontrollably. Wanda held his shaking hands on her lap. As Wanda placed both of her hands gently on the back of his neck, Clint bowed his head, closing his eyes and taking in a long shivering breath.

"That's right. You're okay." Wanda whispered comfortingly.

"I-I… I don…don't…" Clint began to stutter.

Wanda hushed him softly, lifting his head slightly and resting her forehead against his. A sharp pain stabbed his heart as he remembered the horror of his dream and he tried to push the memory away, not wanting Wanda to know. Something told him she already knew.

"Lie still! No! I said lie still!"

Clint raised his head, looking to his left in the direction of the voice. A doctor was attempting to restrain Pietro, who was desperately trying to see Wanda and Clint. The doctor was blocking his view. Wanda leapt up, running over to her brother, ushering the doctor out of the room.

"Don't worry, Clint's okay. He's alright. Calm down. Lie back, you're going to hurt yourself." Wanda stroked back Pietro's hair, gently pushing him down so he was lying on his back.

"I'm fine. I…" Pietro insisted, but his protest was ruined by a loud, painful coughing fit.

"You are a terrible liar." Wanda murmured quietly, provoking a short exhale of laughter from her brother.

"Guess so." He muttered in reply.

"You alright kid?" Clint asked, recovering slightly from the shock of his dream.

Pietro looked at him and nodded. "I'm good… What about you?"

Pietro didn't miss the moment of hesitation before Clint answered. "Yeah. I'm okay."

Pietro held his tongue, knowing what it was like to be so scared that you don't even want to talk.
Fear... Not necessarily a bad thing, Pietro reflected.

"Hey? Pietro, are you daydreaming?"

The voice jolted Pietro out of his thoughts. "Huh? What?"

Wanda shared and amused look with Clint. "I'll take that as a yes." She said, smiling more than she had in days.

Clint swung his legs off the side of his bed and tipped his head to one side, stretching the muscles in his neck. Holding his hands about 10cm apart, one above the other, he twisted them slightly, red mist travelling between them. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, the scarlet flickers glowing brighter.

"Clint…" Wanda warned.

Clint broke concentration, bringing his hands down. "Sorry." He murmured, seeing Wanda's anxious expression.

He turned his gaze to Pietro, who seemed to be struggling to stay awake, his eyelids drooping.

"Wanda… Would you train with me? Now?" He asked, hesitantly.

"Of course." She answered. "Hey, Pietro." She whispered, leaning down to her brother. "I'm going to train with Clint. If you need me, well, I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Okay. See you later then." Pietro mumbled, closing his eyes.

Wanda laid a hand on his head stroked back his hair, kissing his forehead softly. "Goodnight Brother."

She walked across the room; Clint was waiting for her at the door. He held it open for her and she went into the corridor with a murmur of thanks. The archer cast a final glance at Pietro before following Wanda out into the corridor and down to the training rooms.