Bang!

Mila gasped, sitting straight up in bed. Wiping away the beads of sweat peppered across her forehead, she tried to push away the images that had jarred her from her sleep.

It had been the same nightmare that had been plaguing her dreams every night for over a month - the bloody soldier from the alley grasping her throat - a gun pointed at her temple - she had grown accustomed to it now, knowing a variation of the same nightmare was sure to come when she closed her eyes to sleep. Flipping on the lamp on the bedside table, she looked around Josef's bedroom, trying to slow her racing heartbeat.

Soon after the explosion that had caused the mandatory curfew, Josef had shown her to his bedroom, insisting she take his bed while he slept on the sofa for the night. Laying out a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, he had given her a peck on the forehead before retiring to the living room for the night.

Sighing, she threw back the covers, and stood to her feet. Looking around, she took in the room around her. Josef's bedroom was much the same as the rest of his house, void of nearly any personal affects. Walking to the dresser, she picked up the single picture frame that sat atop it. Examining the black and white image, her eyes fell on a man and woman with three small children. The man stood tall, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw. The woman was thin, with fare hair and eyes just like Josef's. The three small children, Mila guessed, were Josef and his siblings. She smiled at the eldest of the children. Josef couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve when the photograph had been taken.

Glancing up from the photo, she looked towards the door, a soft muffled voice coming from down the hall. Placing the frame back down on the dresser, she approached the door, turning the knob softly as another muffled voice came from the living room. Making her way down the hallway, her eyes fell on Josef, who was lying on the sofa, his brow furrowed in distress.

"Michael," He called, tossing his head to the side. "No ... Michael," He called again, this time louder.

"Josef," Mila whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Josef," She repeated shaking him lightly when he continued to toss and turn. Suddenly a hand grasped her arm, yanking her forward roughly. Her eyes met Josef's blue ones, which were glaring up at her, his grip around her arm tightening as whatever nightmare he was having continued. "Josef, its me! Its Mila!" She said, willing him to see her.

As if snapping out of the trance holding him captive, his eyes widened as they focused in on her, his harsh grip on her arm releasing immediately.

"Mila," He breathed, sitting up, eyeing the red ring around her forearm his hand had created.

"Are you okay?" He asked, reaching out to touch her. "I didn't mean-,"

"I'm okay," She cut him off, giving him a reassuring nod. "Are you okay?"

"I am," He replied, leaning back against the arm of the sofa.

"Was it a nightmare?" She asked, sitting down on the edge of the sofa. Josef nodded.

"They come so often now I suppose you could just call it sleeping," He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Who is Michael?" Mila asked tentatively. Josef met her eyes, a look of surprise painted across his features. "You were calling out to him in your sleep," She explained.

"Michael was my brother's name," He replied simply, his voice level and unwavering. 

"Oh," She said, glancing away. Josef had mentioned his brother before, explaining he had died while fighting in the war, although that was about the extent of what he had told her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather just try and forget," He said, averting his eyes from hers.

"It helps to talk," She said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "Believe me ... It does."

"When I was in France, I was captain over a division just north of Calais, and my brother was stationed about twenty minutes south of me," He began after thinking it over for a moment. Swinging his legs around so that he was in a seated position on the sofa, he bent over, resting his elbows on his knees.

"We received word that a small company of British soldiers were retreating towards Dunkirk. Our orders were to intercept that company and stop them before they reached the coast. So my men and I joined up with my brother's division and made our way north," He continued. "What we didn't know was that that small company of British soldiers had already been intercepted ... By a French battalion of 200 men," He trailed off. "We were outnumbered from the beginning ... Surrounded on all sides, pinned in to a field of land mines," He shook his head, lost in the memory of that day. "I wish I could say I was worried about the men I had been entrusted to lead ... That every body in a German uniform I turned over, I wasn't praying it was anyone but Michael ... But I was," He paused again.

"And then I saw him ... About twenty yards away, dragging a wounded soldier across the field. I yelled his name and he looked at me. Then - as quick as his eyes locked with mine - he was gone ... Blown backwards about fifty feet by an exploded ordinance," He inhaled sharply, the words tumbling out effortlessly now, as if they had been desperate to escape for so long. "I knew there was nothing I, or any army medic, could do for him ... But I ran to him anyway. He wasn't bloody or battered the way you'd think someone blown up would be. He looked like he could be asleep ... I knew he wasn't though ... I knew he was gone."

Mila swallowed hard, forcing the lump down that had began to form in her throat. Josef had watched his brother die right before his eyes, not so different from what Mila had witnessed when her father and brother had been killed. She sympathized with Josef. She understood what it felt like to watch someone you love be taken so suddenly.

"I was frozen ... I couldn't think - Couldn't move. If it hadn't been for the lieutenant that pulled me off that field, I would've died their too," Josef said, his eyes filled with sadness as he recalled the events that still haunted him. "I had made a promise to my mother before we left for France. I had promised to bring Michael home safely," He rung his hands together, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he mustered up the strength to continue. "When it was all said and done, I couldn't even bring him home," He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I left him there ... I left him lying there in the mud, alone." 

Taking his hand in hers, Mila squeezed it. "It wasn't your fault ... There was nothing you could do," She said, though she knew first hand her words would be little comfort. 

"I know that ... It doesn't make it any easier to live with though," He shook his head, peering up at her for the first time since he had started talking. Mila nodded slightly. She had said almost those exact words when Catherine had said it wasn't her fault. 

"I have nightmares too," She said softly, meeting his gaze. "That's why I heard you calling out in yours ... I had already woken up from my own." 

"What do you see in yours?" He asked, leaning back against the sofa to look at her properly. 

"Sometimes my father and brother ... Other times its the man that attacked me," She began, taking a deep breath. She wished she could tell him everything - How she had watched her father's and brother's murders ... How she had killed that soldier in the alley and how it haunted her every night - But she couldn't tell him everything ... She would have to carry those burdens alone. "Then sometimes its things my brain has entirely made up ... Something horrible happening to Gwen, or me," She shook the gruesome thoughts away. "It there's one thing the war's given me, its not a lack of imagination for all the horrific things that can happen to a person," She glanced away, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. A hand grasped hers now, giving it a light squeeze. She looked up at Josef, who was studying her with not a look of pity, but of understanding. 

"At the risk of sounding as though my intentions aren't pure, would you like to sleep in here tonight?" He asked genuinely, though his lips turned up into a subtle smirk. "I'll sleep on the floor of course," He added, his smirk widening. 

"Well," She smiled, the heaviness in her chest from before lifting slightly. "I suppose there's no harm in it if you'll be on the floor." 

Slipping down into a sitting position on the floor, he patted the sofa. Her smile broadening, she laid down, pulling the blanket over herself. She watched as Josef grabbed a throw pillow from the chair and another blanket before lying down on the floor beside the sofa. 

"Goodnight Josef," She called, reaching down and grasping his hand, her eyes fluttering as exhaustion took hold of her. 

"Goodnight Mila," He replied, squeezing her hand.