Author's Note: I'm kind of disappointed with this chapter and I'm not quite sure why. I don't know, I feel like it could be better. Anyway, I know it's pretty short. I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter. Here, we see Mulan's PTSD kick in along with her surviver's guilt(thanks Firework Warrior for introducing me to that term) for not not saving Miexu. Make sure to leave a review and let me know what you think!

Chapter Fifty Two: Nightmares

-Nightmare-

Smoke invades my nostrils, choking its way down my throat. Fire. Everything is on fire.

Frightened villagers run in every possible direction, women dragging crying children whose tears of terror stream from innocent eyes. Chaos is everywhere as the residents of this village in the mountains run from the flames and the barbarians who created them. Yet, despite the screams of villagers and the war cries of attackers and the crying of children and the cracking of flames, I hear only one sound.

"Mulan!"

I recognize the voice. It belongs to a little girl who once hid under a pile of rubble clutching a little ragdoll. A little girl I promised to keep safe.

As fast as I can, I run towards the young voice crying out my name. I rush past villagers and burning homes, focusing only on getting there in time. 'Faster,' I urge myself. 'If I can get there fast enough, I can save her.'

At last, I find her. She stands near a burning home, her doll clutched tightly to her chest. She stares at me, her eyes scared and begging. She is so close. I can grab her. I can pick her up and run with her. But, as I run forward, I crash hard into an invisible wall. I try again, but no matter how hard I try, I can't close the distance between us. Something hard and invisible stops me. I can do nothing but watch and scream curses as a Hun soldier approaches Meixu, sword in hand. She doesn't move, doesn't run, just watches me, her eyes begging.

"Save me," they silently beg me. "Come. Protect me."

"I want to!" I scream.

She doesn't seem to hear me. She looks at me, disappointed, before finally turning to face the Hun. She now clutches the doll in her right hand as she stands, paralyzed with fear. Tears stream down her cheeks. The Hun pulls back his sword. I scream at him every curse and name I know as his sword plunges into Meixu's defenseless chest. She bleeds. She falls. The invisible wall disappears. I rush to her side, already knowing it is too late. Her unseeing eyes stare back at me as I kneel by her side, and I see her doll, Mulan, laying nearby, dropped when she fell. She lays with her arms outstretched in either direction, the right one towards the doll and the left to the fire. I watch as the bright orange flames lick the tips of her tiny fingers, slowly working their way up her arm. I do nothing but watch in silent horror as she burns, the only sound in my ears is the screams of the murdered.

Abruptly, a harsh wind blows, and the flames are gone, leaving charred embers in their place. All is silent. I dare to look at Meixu. Charred body. Chunks of dried blood. Eyes still open. Her dead lips move.

"Help," they whisper.

I scream a long, tortured scream.

-End Nightmare-

Suddenly I am sitting up in a bed, my body trembling, tears coursing rivers down my face, a tortured scream escaping my lips.

"Mulan. Mulan, calm down."

I realize I'm not alone. The scream ends. I turn my head to see Father standing at my bedside, Mother and Grandma standing near my bedroom door.

I'm shaking. I'm crying. I'm sweating. I'm hyperventilating.

"Mulan," Father whispers once more, now cautiously sitting down next to me on the bed. "Was it a nightmare?"

I nod without looking at him.

"About the war?"

I nod again.

He turns to Mother and Grandma. "Go back to bed. I've got her."

I don't look at them. I hear the door open. I listen to it creak shut. I turn to Father and sob into his shoulder. My hands grab the fabric on the front of his night clothes as he holds me, rocking slightly back and forth as he whispers comforts.

"Breathe, Mulan," he tells me. "Breathe."

I try to in short gasps between sobs.

This nightmare is different, scarier than my other ones. I try and fail repeatedly to calm myself down like I usually do, but I can't. Father holds me closer, telling me to breathe as he rubs my back.

"I couldn't save her," I sob into his shoulder. "She's dead! I couldn't save her!"

Gently, Father removes my face from his shoulder, cradling it in his hands. I continue to pant and shake and cry as his thumbs brush my cheeks.

"It's alright now, Mulan. You're alright," he soothes.

'Can't you see?' I want to scream. 'This isn't about me. Who cares if I'm alright? She isn't.'

Slowly, I begin to calm down, though the tears still come.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Father asks after I've calmed down a bit.

"No," I whisper.

I can't look at him. What's wrong with me, waking up in the middle of the night screaming like a lunatic? He brushes my chopped hair behind my ear so that he can see my face.

"It's alright, Mulan. Many soldiers have nightmares from things they saw in battle," he reassures me. "I did."

I look at him now. "You did?"

"Yes. I woke up screaming a few times too." He pauses for a few moments. "When you left, I had nightmares every night." Father grips my hand in his. "In every single one of them, I watched you die."

We sit in a long moment of silence before I work up the courage to speak.

"I had nightmares about you back at camp," I whisper, looking at my lap. "You were angry at me…" I trail off. Again silence surrounds us.

"Have you had nightmares about the war before?" Father asks me.

I nod. "A lot. Every night since I came home, too."

"You should have told me," he whispers, not reproachfully though. "Yesterday morning, when I saw you in the hallway, is that why you were up so early?"

"Yes, practicing gets my mind off of it."

He sighs. "You need your sleep, Mulan." He pats my pillow. "Come lay down."

"I won't be able to sleep."

"Try."

So I lay back on the pillow, allowing Father to stroke my hair soothingly. I'm so tired, but when I close my eyes, I see her, dying.

'If only I was there,' I think. 'If I was there, I could have saved her.' And even though I've told myself that many times over before, I've always known deep down that if I was there, I would be dead like the rest of the army. Part of me wonders if being dead would be better than living with the regret of knowing I couldn't save her when she needed me.

I'm not going to sleep tonight.

"Baba, you can go back to bed. I'm alright now."

'I'm not alright.'

"I can stay if you want…"

"No, it's alright."

He kisses my head. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Baba."

I watch him leave the room. I listen to him walk down the hallway, his cane tapping. I hear his bedroom door open and then close. Then, I spring quietly into action, changing into my training tunic, slipping out of my room and into the armory, grabbing a training staff, and slipping out of the house. It is quite dark out, nowhere near morning. It's too dark to train just yet, so I think I will go to the temple for a few hours, then start. As I walk towards the garden, I feel someone watching me. Turning back to the house, I see Father standing in his bedroom window, looking at me. His eyes are sad. Part of me wants to run back to the house, to hug him and tell him I'm alright even though we both know it's a lie. But, my feet don't move. I simply give him the slightest nod, before turning and once more heading to the temple.