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Clint isn’t used to dreaming about previous missions, but he dreams about Kazakhstan and feels a sense of self-loathing and helplessness.
I could have avoided that altogether. I failed the mission. I made a rookie mistake. I shouldn’t be here.
He fingers the new friendship bracelet and sighs. He isn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. The darkness reminds him too much of the dark he was trapped in, for what he was told, had to be at least six weeks.
Tired and frustrated, Clint gets up, grabs George, and walks to Bruce’s room.
The green light of the nightlight is bright and comforting to Clint as he whispers, “Bruce?”
Bruce stirs, but doesn’t say anything. Clint walks in and gently pokes at Bruce.
“Bruce. I had a bad dream.”
Bruce cracks open an eye and exhales slowly. “Kazakhstan?”
Clint nods.
Bruce pulls back the quilt and covers on the other side and pats the empty side of the bed. Clint climbs in and settles down, comforted by the feel of someone he trusts and the glow of the nightlight.
“Don’t leave me before I wake up this time, okay?” Bruce grumbles.
Clint smiles. “Yeah, I promise.”