The dream never changed. Without fail, it tormented him - a constant annoyance that gave way to utter terror as he died a million times over, night after night. Each time his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep, the dream came.

The dream was why he hated sleep so very much. While he slept, he could not escape the voices. The screams. The scents. The sounds. It was not so much a dream as was a reminder of the things he'd seen. The people he'd lost.

It's a video. He's the man behind the camera.

"Another beautiful night in Afghanistan. It's really ******** cold out here. I bet you're all snugged up in bed. b***h! Kinda get creeped out sometimes. I hear there's spiders here big as your face."

A voice, laughing, calls out from the distance.

"Shut the ******** up, man. You know Big Sexy hates ********' spiders."

He laughs. The camera pans over to the owner of the voice, a swarthy-skinned man in his late twenties.

"That's JJ. Say hi to the camera, ******** makes kissy faces at the camera, and the raucous laughter of a small group of men can be heard.

The camera moves again. A large, ruddy-faced man comes into view, blonde with blue eyes. He's fussing with an MRE.

"That's Big Sexy. He don't like ******** you, Ross."

"You never buy me dinner, Big. You buy me dinner, we'll talk."

The camera moves again. A thin, solemn-looking, dark-haired man with glasses comes into focus. He's writing in his journal. There's a slight smile on his face.

"That's Sherman. I don't even remember his real name. Probably writin' to that smokin' hot girlfriend he's keepin' back in the states. That what you doin', Shermy?"

"No."

"You lyin'."

"I'm actually writing you a poem, Tuck. It's a haiku. Would you like to hear it?"

The men laugh, and the camera jostles as Tuck situates himself.

"You romancin' me, man?"

Sherman clears his throat.

"The night sky above - gleams with the light of the stars - Tuck is a dicksqueeze."

"Real poetic, dude. Real poetic. Now I know you're romancin' me. Got a ********' Shakespeare over here, guys."

A muffled voice can be heard from off-screen. It's thick with an accent, and the camera shifts. A slight man with olive skin and dark hair comes into view, and he's smiling brightly.

"What'd you say to me, Hoolio?"

"I said you are ******** a*****e, Tuck."

"Aw, Hoolio, baby."

"Do not start this 'Hoolio baby' to me, Tuck. You are making video for sister again?"

"That's Hoolio, Gnat. He thinks you're cute. I think he thinks I'm cute."

"You are as cute as horse's a**, Tuck."

The men laugh.

"Me next, dude, me next. She single? Your sister, I mean."

Once more the camera spins with dizzying, jolting movements.

"You tryin' to hit on my sister, Dollface?"

"She prettier than you are?"

A moment of silence.

"Naw."

The curly-haired blonde man laughs. He's pale, and almost pretty.

"That's your future husband, Gnat. He's kind of a ********. Dollface, wave to the camera."

The man lifts a hand and salutes the camera, grinning the entire time.

"Alright."

The camera spins again and Tuck's face comes into view. He looks tired, but happy, as if he's finally found a place he can fit in - and surrounded by people who seem to genuinely care for each other.

"We're camped out somewhere in the middle of ********, waiting for orders. I don't know what's goin' on. Heard there was some kinna disturbance down in the valley, and we're just keepin' an eye on things until the big guns roll up."

Tuck grins at the camera.

"Don't know when I'll be able to mail this out to you, but I just want to make sure that I'm keepin' track of what I'm doin'. I miss you, I miss ma and pops, too."

He clears his throat.

"I know they can't understand. Part of me.. I ain't gonna get into that right now. Just let them know I love 'em too, but don't let them see this tape if you ever get it 'cause ma would be so mad at all my cursin'."

Tuck grins again.

An odd sound can be heard in the distance. A whoosh of wings, almost, beating like a thick, heavy heartbeat.

"You hear that?"

The camera falls to the side. The men can be seen rushing to their feet. There's another odd clicking, clacking, like bugs but different.

A body hits the floor. A decapitated head rolls towards the camera. It's JJ.

There is no smile on his face.

There's another beat of wings, and a few thick, tarry feathers fall to the ground in front of the camera. The men panic.

They run.

That dream. That not-quite-a-dream. Drenched in sweat, Tuck moved to his feet. Trembling, he quickly donned his jogging clothes before moving towards the door.

He'd run.

Stepping outside of his dorm, Tuck glanced at his sister's door.

Maybe he wouldn't have to run alone.