"So, this is where the super hero's hide out?" I ask as we pull through a large gate, scanning the long driveway that leads to a series of huge buildings.

"Yes. The Avenger's Compound will be a safe place for you to learn about your abilities," Director Fury answers.

"So you can keep an eye on me, you mean?" I watch him from the corner of my eye, annoyance still strong.

"Hey, this setup keeps us both happy," Fury warns, stopping the car in front of a pair of glass doors.

"Hmm, yah, just what I've always wanted. To be locked up."

"Better than being in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, which was your other option."

"I could have been left alone," I mutter, stepping out of the S.U.V.

"You know that wasn't an option," Fury bites out, coming around the car to stand in front of me.

"But why not? I've never hurt anyone. I don't use my powers. I can—"

"Oh really? Then how did we find you?" he asks with a brow raised.

I hold back the urge to use my powers on him right now, instead marching around him. "Fine; I rarely use my powers. But I was helping people," I argue, pulling the door open and stepping into the cool building.

His footsteps approach from behind until he's beside me. "I know that, but the rest of the world doesn't. This is the best place for you to learn and be monitored."

He nods to the right and I let out a breath, trying to calm down. "I know," I mumble after a few moments. "I just don't like being controlled. And this feels a lot like being controlled."

"Think of it as a work-study… with the perks of living like a billionaire."

"Yes, because designer sheets make up for being taken from my home."

He sends me an unamused look as we round another corner, bringing us face to face with Tony Stark.

"You must be Ellie, nice to meet you. Tony Stark," he greets with a sarcastic-looking smile as he thrusts a hand out.

"Yes I am, and I did notice," I say with a nod, shaking his hand.

"Of course, you did. Now I'm sure you want to meet the super-secret boy band, don't you? Well... I guess we're not just boys, but that's beyond the point. Everyone's curious to see who could be so important for Fury to make a personal trip," he winks at Fury beside me.

"I really don't think I'm that important, I think he's just a control freak," I half-heartedly joke. Beside me, Fury rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply.

"I don't think so. Not about the control freak thing, you're on the nose with that one," Tony smirks, then points at me, "but, from what I've heard, you're definitely someone special." He turns and walks back the way he came before waving a hand over his shoulder. "Come on; teams waiting."

"Give me strength..." Fury mutters before starting towards Tony.

The Compound, as it's called, is gorgeous, but impersonal. Glass, cement, and sleek floors make it seem more like an office building than a home, but I guess it is multi-purpose. I follow the two men and we eventually walk into what appears to be the common area. It's a long open room, and closest to the entryway is a large table filled with 9 familiar faces. Before we steer towards them, I spot a kitchen on the right and a tv tucked at the far end of the room situated in front of a wall of windows. I return my focus to the table and do my best not to shrink under their eyes.

"Hi everyone," I smile, a little uncomfortable with all focus being on me.

After a round of hello's, the youngest, Peter—and apparently Spider-Man—leans forward with an excited smile. "So, are you excited to become an Avenger?"

"I don't really think that's why I'm here," I say, just as Fury speaks up.

"Ellie is meant to use this opportunity to learn about her abilities, not play superhero. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't want enhanced individuals just running around, so we agreed this place would be the best place for her to be monitored."

"Abilities huh? What's your thing?" The voice comes from a man at the end of the table. Sam.

The Falcon.

"Well, I can manipulate matter. So, move objects, control elements, that kind of thing."

"No way, like the Avatar?" Peter asks excitedly.

I smile big and nod. Then notice everyone looking between Peter and me with confused looks on their faces. "You know, the tv show Avatar? The Last Air Bender?" No one answers. "Maybe we can watch it some time…" I mumble, to which Peter nods enthusiastically in agreement.

"So, want to show us a little demonstration?" Steve asks. Captain America.

Be cool.

"I—I don't know if I'm really supposed to," I look to Fury.

"That is why you're here. Demonstrate."

I nod and raise my hand so my palm is facing up. My fingers tingle as I pull moisture from the air then condense and cool it down. The result is a miniature snowing cloud a foot from my hand. There are a few excited voices before one cuts above the rest.

"Come on, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't bring you in because you're Elsa, what else can you do?" Sam jokes, leaning back against his chair.

I raise my brow and the cloud disappears, then turn my eyes to him and tilt my head.

Let me show you.

His chair slowly backs from under the desk before beginning to rise from the floor.

"What the—"

I begin tilting it backwards until he's parallel to the floor—inches from turning upside down and tipping him out. "Is this more what you had in mind?" I ask.

"Shit. Yes, okay. Okay, let me down," he says nervously, hands gripping the armrests of his chair. The table is all laughter by the time I set him back onto the floor, a satisfied smile on my lips.

"Impressive. Is there a maximum weight you can move?" Steve asks.

"Well, I guess it depends. Lighter stuff, like air and fire, is easy. I could manipulate it for hours without getting tired. Heavier stuff; water, metal, wood, that takes a lot more energy. But I can move quite a bit," I explain.

"She can move a lot. Ellie was responsible for helping during a multi-car pile-up last winter. Saved dozens of lives."

I send Fury a pleading look.

Don't bring that up.

"Oh, do tell."

"No way, what happened?"

"Gotta say, I'm interested."

I look at the faces around the table, shifting from one leg to the other.

I guess they were going to find out regardless.

Just kinda wish it wasn't five minutes into meeting them.

"Well, my parents and I were driving on the freeway during a really bad snowstorm on New Years. My dad was driving below the limit but still didn't see that there was a huge accident in front of us and we hit head-on," I explain, my mind traveling to that night. The first thing I remember is waking up as another car hit us from behind. I take a breath, trying to distance myself from the sinking feeling in my stomach. "My dad told me to help the other cars. Move them apart or something so people wouldn't be crushed. There were so many that I had to push cars from the front of the accident… Anyways, when I finally spaced them all out, I got out and called the police. They had been trying to get there and had closed the on-ramp closest to us, but the storm was so bad, that there ended up being another accident there. No plows could get through obviously, so the snow was probably half a foot deep, and cars were still flying towards us." Just the thought of that night makes me shiver. "I started slowing the cars down that were coming our way. By that point, I was pretty tired, and the ground was slippery, so I couldn't stop them completely, but at least they weren't going top speed I guess..." I can still remember the first car that came towards us… All I could see were blinding white lights flying directly at me, panic freezing me in the middle of the road. I thrust out at the last second, slowing the car and directing it towards the median. "Two police cars ended up coming and crashing, so they radioed the others and stopped them from coming our way. They were so preoccupied with checking on the cars that they hadn't even noticed me. We ended up having to wait out the storm. It took almost an hour, but it finally calmed enough for ambulances to get through." My stomach drops as I think about walking back to my parent's car. "My parents, um, neither of them made it…" The memory of finding them still haunts me; having to come back to their bodies inside the mangled car. The doctor says my mom died on impact, but my dad... his leg was crushed so badly that he bled out before paramedics could reach him.

"I'm so sorry, that must be so hard for you," a voice says. I look up and see a brunette woman. Wanda. She lost her parents when she was young. And her brother recently. I smile half-heartedly before Fury pulls my attention.

"Ellie pushed 24 cars apart from the initial crash, and slowed an additional 13. That's how we caught wind of her. The police didn't notice her, but the people who crashed did," Fury explains.

37 cars. 6 dead. 22 seriously injured.

"I'm obviously too big a threat to be left alone, so now I'm here," I say sarcastically.

"We've only seen abilities like yours in Wanda and literal Gods. We need to take precautions," Fury bites back.

"How did you get your abilities?" Wanda asks.

"The same way you two did," I reply, looking between Wanda, then over to the dark-haired man sitting beside Sam with an unreadable stare.

Bucky.

I avert my eyes and continue, "well not exactly. My birth parents were unwilling test subjects of some Hydra experiments back in the nineties. There was some type of accident at their facility and they were able to escape together. My mom had just given birth, so they traveled to the U.S. thinking they'd be safer but found out that Hydra was hunting them, so they put me up for adoption. They were killed soon after... At least that's what I've been told," I explain, looking to Fury.

"They were part of an early rendition of the Miracles Program—the program the Maximoff twins were part of. They were researching ways to make superhumans, and the accident in 1994 was the result of an experiment gone wrong. One of the test subjects went... nuclear you could say and blew part of the compound off. Ellie is lucky that her parents got out. As far as we know, Hydra has no idea Ellie exists."

I certainly hope not.

I still can't believe all that. I was only told a few days ago when Fury showed up at my apartment, telling me I needed to come with him. Bit of a shock to be told my family history by a complete stranger. I obviously thought my abilities came from my birth parents, but I had no idea the story would be so… dramatic. Secret scientists and international villains were not what I was expecting.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you, Ellie. Not that it seems like you need much help," Tony smiles before clapping, "now, who's ready for dinner? Chinese sound good? After that, we can show you around and get you settled in."

"That sounds amazing," I smile.

Storytime left me drained, so while food does sound amazing, getting to my room sounds even better.

"So, do you all live here?" I ask as I help clear the island after dinner.

"Everyone except me, Bruce, and Peter. We're all in the city. Thor hasn't graced us with his presence in a few months, so he's due for a visit soon. And Clint spends most of his time with his family, but I'm sure we can pull him away to meet you sometime," Tony explains, dropping a few containers into the trash.

"Full house then," I comment, placing two glasses into the sink.

"Oh definitely. But that's the fun of it," he smiles. "I'll finish up here, you go check out the place."

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping."

"Yah, yah, go ahead."

"I'll show you around if you'd like?" I hear from behind me.

I turn and send Wanda a nod. "Thanks."

As we walk, she explains that about a year ago, S.H.I.E.L.D. stopped operating from the Compound. Something about too much tension and close quarters, so S.H.I.E.L.D. moved to work remotely. The buildings they occupied are mostly empty now, so we kept to the main building. We start on the first floor, which is also technically the basement. This is where the gym, armory, shooting range, pool, and a few spare rooms are. We make our way to the main floor, and she gestures to a set of double doors that apparently leads to Tony's lab. From where we are, it seems to take up half the building, so I can only imagine all the stuff he has packed in there. We continue and she shows me the medical bay, a movie room, a few offices, a staircase leading to the west wing of the third floor where a few bedrooms are, and finally, the doors that lead to the grounds. We round the corner and we're back in the common space, so she directs us up a set of stairs and to the left, stopping at the first door on the right.

"This is the east wing, Vis and I share the room at the end of the hall on the left, Rhodes is across from us, and Bucky is across from you," she explains as she opens the door.

It's at least double the size of my apartment's bedroom, furnished with matching grey wood furniture. There's a desk against the left wall, and a large mirror resting between two black doors on the right.

"Bathroom and closet," Wanda says.

I nod and walk further into the room. The bed is centered on the far wall, which has a window spanning across its entirety. I move towards the window, looking from the grounds, to the dark lake, to where the sun sets behind a large copse of trees.

"This is probably a lot for you to take in... Take as much time as you need to get used to everything. I know it took me a while. But we're here if you need anything," she says gently as she comes to stand beside me.

"Thank you. You all seem amazing… I just can't help from feeling trapped. I really didn't have a choice in coming here," I say, a little surprised at my honesty.

She nods. "I know it seems like they're controlling you. It's how I felt, and still feel sometimes. But you've been on your own for months, and I'm assuming haven't had much contact with others like yourself, so maybe we can help. Fury… he just doesn't know what to expect from you. Most people who come from Hydra's experiments are less than pleasant, and unfortunately, it's his job to be suspicious of us." I nod at her and look around the room. "I'll leave you for the night, but feel welcome to walk around, check out outside, whatever. This is your home."

My home …

Those words send a jolt of discomfort through me.

My home is in Chicago.

I was taken from my home.

I don't know what this is, but it's not home.

"Thanks..." I mumble quietly.

She sends me a small smile as she turns and disappears through the door, shutting it silently. My eyes fall to the boxes and suitcases that are settled beside it, under a TV.

Might as well unpack a little.

I head over and grab the largest suitcase, lugging it onto my bed before grabbing my phone from my pocket and putting on some quiet music. I sort through my clothes and organize them into the closet, which turns out to be a huge walk-in with countless shelves and drawers.

Nice.

Once my clothes are away, I grab the small duffle bag that holds my toiletries and open the door to the bathroom. I try not to gawk at the pristine white soaker tub and glass shower as I drop the bag beside the marble vanity. I head back into my room and grab the top cardboard box. It's filled with my sketchbooks, pencils, watercolor pads, paints, and the rest of my art stuff, so I pull it off and place it on top of the desk. The next box has my books in it. A small collection, but they're my favorites. I line them up along the windowsill before going to the last two boxes.

I flip through the first box, the majority of its contents being artwork, some of which I've bought, some I've made. I turn to the second, pulling the Chewbacca stuffy off the top and looking at his faded face. I got him when my parents brought me to see The Phantom Menace as a kid. It made no difference to me that he wasn't actually in the movie, I just wanted the big furry thing. I chuck him onto the bed before continuing to look through the box, poking through the knick-knacks and keepsakes. I move a carefully wrapped string of lights to the side when my fingers freeze on a thick white envelope. A wave of grief passes over me as I contemplate opening the package to look through the printed photos of my family and me.

I push it aside, finding the small wooden jewelry box and pulling it out. I head into my closet and place it onto one of the shelves, ignoring how out of place the vintage box looks among the black glassy shelves and drawers, and walk back to the box, peering into it cautiously. Before my brain catches up to my body, I'm already folding the box flaps over each other, smothering any desire to decorate or reminisce and stand, pushing one box, then the next into the back of my closet. I head back into the room and stop in front of my second suitcase, remembering it's filled with my jackets, boots, and other clothes I won't need for a while, so I don't bother to unpack it, instead, rolling it to the back of the closet until the weather gets cooler.

I let out a sigh as I finish and roll my neck.

It's been a long day.

And an even longer three days.

I eye the bathroom door, the thought of a long hot shower sounding like literal heaven right now.

After finally figuring out the controls of the thing, I melt into the shower, the heat instantly relaxing my stress-ridden muscles. And while I think the music-synced mood lighting was a little much, the rainfall showerhead and wall-mounted body jets are way better than the shitty calcium and rust-filled shower at my apartment. When I finish and dry off, I change into a pair of leggings and a tank top then flop onto the bed.

It's soft and plush, the pillows fluffed and supportive, yet the unfamiliarity makes me uncomfortable. Despite my tiredness, I feel restless. I let out a deep breath and rub my hands over my face.

No way will I be able to sleep yet.

I grab my phone from the bed, a sweater from the closet, and slip on a pair of slides before slowly opening the door. No one is in the hall, so I head out and down the stairs. There's laughter from the direction of the living room, so I slip quietly around the corner to the backdoor, hopefully, undetected by my new housemates. I push open one of the glass doors and take a deep breath of fresh air; it's a cool night for summer, but I prefer the crispness over the usual thick, muggy weather.

I look around the yard. Or I guess more like… the grounds.

Parts of the Compound are sidled right up to the lake, and from where I am now, all I can make out is a seemingly endless stretch of lakeshore, trees, and water. Although I search, I know I won't be able to see the edge of the property; during the drive in, I realized there are hundreds of acres encompassed by a high-tech gate—possibly thousands—meaning miles of secured land… Meaning it's likely impossible for me to slip away.

I don't even know where I would slip away to…

I roll my eyes at my situation and head to the water, stopping to sit near a tree a few feet from the shore. My hand extends and I begin the small exercises I used to do with my parents. Pull a string of water up, weave it through my fingers, twirl it, cover my hand, freeze it, then make it evaporate. Then I start pulling up water droplets.

One after another they plop out of the lake and hover around me. They catch the light from the Compound as I start making them dance in the air. They spin and drop and rise.

"That's a neat trick," a deep voice says behind me.

The droplets freeze in their positions around me as I turn to the voice. "Christ," I hiss, "do you usually sneak up behind people?"

Bucky stands a few feet behind me, hands in his pockets and a hint of amusement on his face. "Not anymore. Just checking to see if you were trying to run away," he shrugs.

"Doubt I would get very far if I tried," I shrug and turn back around.

"This place isn't so bad anyway," he says, walking closer to where I sit.

I look up to see him touch one of the droplets. It shudders gently at his touch, and as he pulls away, a bit of water sticks and runs down his finger. "So, what exactly can you do?" he asks before sitting down beside me.

Yah, go right ahead and sit.

I hesitate a moment before opening my mouth to answer. "Well, it kinda depends on what it is. With water, I can change its shape," I say as I turn the droplets into squares, "and change its state," I say as I freeze the cubes, to which Bucky pokes one again. It bounces away before returning to its original spot. "Air I can manipulate no problem, harden it, make gusts of wind, things like that, but fire and earth aren't as easily changed, so I can only manipulate them. Other than that, I can basically move anything."

He nods. "Wanda's manifests red, why doesn't yours show?"

I shrug. "I don't know much about my powers. Fury said documents from the project my parents were in were either destroyed or are buried so deep that even S.H.I.E.L.D. can't find them. And I can't figure out how it happened. I've studied biology and evolution, bio-engineering, nano-tech, biophysics, and nothing. But I guess that's why I'm here. To figure it out," I say quietly.

"What Hydra did—does—to people... It's beyond words," he shakes his head.

I nod, realizing who I'm speaking to. What happened to him. "I feel lucky not to have had to deal with them," I say as I unfreeze the cubes, letting most of the water drop back into the lake. I keep a small string and let it dance around my fingers, needing something to fiddle with.

"You are," he says quietly, staring at the string. "How did you find out you could do these things?"

I chuckle at the memory. "I was 13. I remember being so mad because I didn't want to clean my room. My mom came in to check if I was finished yet, and when she saw that I was sitting under my desk reading an old magazine, she yelled for me to pick everything up right now... so, I did. Everything in my room was two feet above where it was supposed to be. Of course, my mother was speechless then. I was confused until I realized I was doing it. So, I started playing around with it, tilting my bed, flipping my chair upside down. Didn't take long before I used up too much energy and passed out," I explain.

"Oh, shit."

"Yep. And my bedroom was even more of a mess than it was before. That was not fun to clean up. After that, my parents had me practice every day, making sure I knew my limits and how to use it. It became easier and easier, and now I don't even need to think about it." I flick my hand and the string evaporates.

We sit in silence for a moment before he straightens. "If you can control matter, can you control people?"

The question sends an odd feeling through me. "I… I've never thought about that before. I don't know. I would bet I could control your arm," I nod towards the metal, "but I've never tried another person."

"How much do you wanna bet?"

"I didn't mean literally," I say with a confused smile, "I know I could control your arm. It's metal, regardless of whether it's attached to you."

"Oh yah, then name your price," he smirks.

"I don't know... take me shopping? I doubt I'm allowed to leave by myself," I mutter.

"Oh, just bring you to the store, I can—"

"And buy me stuff," I clarify, pointing at him.

May as well make it worth it for myself.

He laughs and nods. "Hmm alright, and if I win... how about an IOU?"

I think for a moment before nodding. "Deal. You're gonna lose anyway," I say, sticking a hand out for him to shake. He reaches forward before his metal hand grabs hold of his right wrist and stops him. I smirk and flick my eyes down to where his arm is caught by the other.

He does the same, then meets my eyes. "Again. But this time let me prepare."

I nod and let go, shifting to face him. He does the same and watches me carefully with that unreadable stare. I decide to focus, reaching out with my mind and feeling my way towards his metal arm. Feeling for what, I'm unsure. Maybe to feel whether it's part of him or not. I imagine running my fingers down the arm, poking, and testing, when he sends me a confused look.

"What?" I ask confused before realizing. "Did you feel that?" He nods. "How much can you feel with it?" I ask slowly, nodding to the metal arm.

"Usually nothing," he breathes. "I know when I pick something up or touch something, but I don't feel anything. It's like it's frozen. But I felt that. As if it was my other arm... that was different from what you did before," he says confused.

I reach out again, tapping out a random beat.

In response, he huffs a laugh, looking from his arm to me. "How are you doing that?"

"I don't know, it doesn't make sense... I'm not really manipulating anything, just reaching out to feel," I say, not even sure of what I'm doing. I reach out again, this time mentally grabbing hold of his hand before lifting it into the air. "This is different from how I usually use my powers. Reaching out like this, I mean. When I usually move an object, it's less... tangible. I just grab onto something and direct it some way. Right now, it's like I'm using my hand to lift yours. There's more of a connection," I say confused, brows furrowed as I stare at his arm. I decide to pull away from that connection and act as I usually do, pulling the metal straight between us.

Bucky draws a sharp breath in. "It's different alright. Before it felt like you were holding my arm, now it barely feels like my own."

"I don't understand. How is it different?" I ask frustrated.

"Hey, hey. Don't get mad while you have my arm in a mental vice grip," he jokes, voice wary and arm still frozen in front of him.

"Oh, don't worry about that," I wave him off. "Like I said, I really don't have to think about it," I explain again, returning the will of his arm to him.

"So, you haven't lost control before?" he asks, shaking his arm out before examining his fingers.

"That's the thing, it's not really control. It's kinda like moving your body. You don't really have to concentrate to move, you just do. That's how my powers work; I could move my finger as easily as I could lift water. But it's also like a muscle that needs to be exercised. The more I use it and challenge myself, the stronger I am."

"So, you can start or stop without thinking?"

"Exactly."

"Try on my other arm," he says. I contemplate it for a moment, then reach those mental hands out to touch along his arm. I trail down his arm the same way I did on the other, and his reaction is the same. He still seems amazed that there isn't actually a hand touching him. I reach his hand and gently lift it up.

"Try the other way," he said quietly.

I drop his arm abruptly and it slaps onto his leg. "I'm not sure I want to. This way doesn't feel as... controlling. I doubt this way I could throw you across the lake, or hurt you, or make you do something you didn't want to. But considering the objects I've manipulated the other way, it would be easy to do any of those things..."

"But aren't you curious?" He asks.

"I... it feels wrong. To manipulate a person like an object. "

"If you don't want to do it, I won't pressure you, but if you want to try, I trust you enough not to kill me."

"How can you trust me? You've known me all of, what, 5 hours?" I challenge.

"Well, I did sneak up on you and you didn't even attempt to hurt me, and you really don't seem to be the aggressive type."

"What a compelling argument. You should tell Fury that, maybe he'd let me leave," I grumble sarcastically, looking over to the dark lake.

"Don't get me wrong, he shouldn't be forcing you to stay here. The politics around enhanced individuals means we're treated more like weapons than people, which does wonders for the psyche, but it's not the worst outcome. It keeps you and others safe," Bucky says gently.

"I don't think I need much protecting…"

"Yah we all think that, until someone bigger and meaner comes along and proves otherwise," he says a matter of factly.

"I sense a past grudge, care to tell?" I prod.

"Oh, you know, Steve, King T'Challa, a 15-year-old kid in a onesie."

"You mean Peter?" I ask with a chuckle. "Hardly bigger or meaner."

"No, just a lot quicker. Point is, it's not a bad thing to get some people behind you. You never know what might happen where having their support will come in handy."

"I don't know what I would need a bunch of superheroes for, but regardless, that's going to be hard to get used to..."

"We are really good at opening jars," he states. "But in all seriousness, each of us knows what it's like to be different from others, what it's like to lose, so we're in it together… It's good to have others around that understand."

That's true, I've never had that…

While my parents supported me, they never really understood. They were scared for what I might have to face, how it would change my life, but it was them watching it, not living it. They never knew what it was like to have to hide from the world or to resign their life to only being half of who they were. Or to have a million questions and not have anyone to turn to. It didn't matter how hard they tried, they never really understood.

My mind is a million miles away when Bucky speaks up beside me, pulling me from my thoughts. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to head in, it's getting late," he says, standing and sticking a dark, shiny hand down to help me up.

As I reach physically, I reach out mentally.

I don't know why I do it, but he seemed to appreciate feeling in his inanimate limb. My mental hand mirrors my physical hand, and as he pulls me to my feet, his thumb gently runs across mine before he lets go. That's his only tell that he did feel something.

We walk back to the building in silence, slipping through the back door and towards the stairs. I notice the common area is quiet and empty as we climb the stairs to the third floor.

"Thanks for the talk… and the shopping trip," I smirk as I open my door.

"A deal's a deal. Have a good night," he smiles before heading into his room.

I do the same and immediately strip from my leggings, tank top, and sweater, throwing on a big T-shirt from my freshman year of college. I place my phone onto a charging pad before dropping into bed and staring at the ceiling.

I lay in bed for what feels like forever before I start nodding off and I roll over, lazily gazing across my room.

Lights blind me as my heart stops.

"Shit!" I gasp, hearing horns blare at me. I shut my eyes and throw my arms over my face. Then, nothing.

I open my eyes to my darkroom.

"You're fine. It's fine," I tell myself shakily, rolling onto my back and scrubbing my face with my hands. "Just a hallucination. It's not real," I breathe.

I drop my arms and turn over, trying to calm my heart so I can get back to sleep.