"Nobody hears me scream, or if they did, they've quickly learned to ignore it. I'd awoken in the same state more than once since I arrived in Brooklyn from Las Vegas. I tore myself free of the constricting blankets, tumbling to the floor, finally awake.

A nightmare. Why am I so surprised by that?

My skin is covered in sweat, the sheets still half wrapped around me like a straight jacket.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, unable to stand up for a moment. My feet hitting numerous empty bottles of anything alcoholic. I know my legs would shake, and that would be another weakness I stupidly allowed to win. I'd be better just sitting here and staring into the dark and pretend that everything is alright. Pretend that the best times in my life aren't fuel for my nightmares. Pretend that I'm still in control.

No! I AM in control. Even if that means turning into a nightmare myself.

It's the only way to beat them. And I WILL beat them. I have to.

Taking a deep breath, I finally stand up, pleased to see that my legs and hands are steady once more. Heading to the shower while forcing myself into focusing on the positive. The few left. I don't bother to turn on the light in the bathroom, I have discovered that showering in the dark, at times, is a remarkably peaceful experience. And right now I need a bit of peace of mind. I don't know how long I spent in the shower but it was long enough for the once near scalding hot water to turn ice cold. It was time to get out. Despite the dark, I knew where I kept my towels. I grabbed it, quickly dried my hair, sending it in multiple directions, it would sort itself out once dried properly, and then wrapped it around my waist and headed back to my bedroom.

Walking back into my bedroom I flicked the light back on and nearly blinded myself after being in the dark for so long, I took a few moments to adjust. Once I had accomplished that, I walked over to my closet to find something to wear. There wasn't much to choose from but it was enough for now. I knew I'd have to go clothes shopping soon, though, but for now I could deal with what I had. I eventually made my choice, nothing too fancy, I wasn't aiming for that. I just wanted to be comfortable. I chose a pair of black trousers, white shirt and the black leather jacket I took from Sw1tch's apartment . Simple enough. Now that I was dressed, I walked back to my bed, kicking a few empty bottles out of the way, sat on the edge of my bed, grabbed a clean pair of socks, put my shoes on and finally reached for my gun under my pillow. Even though I had no plans to use it, you just never know who or what you'll find out on the streets. I stood up, hiding my gun in its usual location in the waistband of my trousers and pulled the leather jacket back over it. Now I was ready to go out and do something. I knew exactly where to begin. Somewhere not too far from my apartment.

Joe's is a bar. I discovered a few days ago. Sure, there are bars like it all over New York. Some are pretentious but Joe's, discreet and quiet, unwilling to draw too much attention to what goes on inside. To all appearances, it is just another seedy bar in a seedy district, a place you go to get drunk and not much else. It's not a friendly place, and few, with the exception of the regulars stay there for long.

"How's the crowd tonight?" I ask, smiling a little. I try to keep the guards on my good side, it never pays to antagonize the staff.

"Quiet." the man says with a shrug. "Hopefully it stays that way."

"Here's hoping." I say, walking inside

The smell hits me first, the smoke from dozens of cigarettes blanketing the area. The sweet and spicy undertones tell me that not all of them are tobacco, but that is to be expected.

Joe's choice of music tends to be eclectic, though if there are any of his favorite customers around he might cater to their wishes, and right now there's a particularly nostalgic piece of soft jazz that for some reason made me feel ill at ease. I can't remember why, and I can't let it bother me either. The music is as irrelevant as the soft bluish lighting, or the way a handful of faces turns towards me as I enter.

I give a nod of greeting to the ones I recognize, checking the others to see if any of them seem inclined to start any trouble. I didn't come here for a fight but if one presented itself, well who was I to refuse it? I took a seat towards the back, making sure I could keep an eye on my surroundings."

As I sat back and continued to observe my surroundings, I found myself relaxing slightly despite the atmosphere but still I was alert enough to keep my eyes and ears open while keeping my left hand at my side, ready to pull my gun out and use it if needed, because from the stories I had heard, it wouldn't be the first time bullets and blood had been shed in here. I was suddenly pulled from my thoughts by the sound of shattering glass, followed by angry shouts and the unmistakable sound of fist meeting flesh as a 'fight' and I use the word 'fight' loosely, had broken out. I watched amused as the 2 drunks where quickly and roughly thrown out through the door, onto the streets, by the bartender who was twice their size. With that done, the remaining people went back to whatever criminal activity they were no doubt planning, the bartender picked up the table, chairs and smashed glasses before returning to the bar and I resumed my own thoughts and one thought made itself very loudly known...I needed a drink ASAP! 

I got up and made my way over to the bar, feeling several sets of eyes watching me as I went which I easily ignored. The bartender, who appeared even bigger up close, turned around upon hearing my arrival at the counter.

"I was wondering when you'd order something. What can I do for ya?"

His response momentarily caught me off guard but I quickly recovered and answered him.

"I was wondering as well. I'll take a whisky, if you've got it?"

The bartender gave me a smirk and mumbled something as he turned his back to grab a bottle off the shelf behind him and then reached under the counter to grab a glass. He placed the glass in front of me, uncapped the bottle, that oh so familar scent reached me as he poured. He nodded to me as he capped the bottle and placed the bottle back on the shelf. I reached into my trouser pocket, pulled out more than enough money, placed it on the counter and told tbe bartender to keep the change. He looked down at the money and gave a low whistle.

"Big spender. Just don't let the others around here know it. Otherwise..."

I slowly pulled the left side of my/Sw1tch's leather jacket open and gazed down. The bartender followed my gaze and nodded in understanding."

"Don't worry. I can look after myself. Thanks."

With that said, I pulled my leather jacket back over my gun, grabbed my drink and made my way back to my table.

What else was going to happen?

After several glasses of whisky and more fights breaking out, I had found myself getting restless as well, which was never a good thing for me or those around me. I had to get out of here and do something. So that's what I did. I finished the last of the whisky in my glass, got up from the table, feeling several sets of eyes follow me as I walked out the door. Once outside I took a deep breath, paused for a few moments, then headed off. Where to it didn't matter, I did what Sw1tch used to refer to as 'wandering aimlessly, that way you can't get lost'. I don't know how long I had been wandering for when I got the feeling I wasn't totally alone. I barely had the time to turn around when I felt it. 

I was hit from behind, picked up, hit several more times before being slammed into the window of a long abandoned business. The glass shattering as the back of my head met it and I fell to the ground where the beating continued! My head suddenly felt like it was on fire and I could feel the blood starting to fall from my head, nose and lip. I had to get up. I had to make my body obey. I would make it. My attacker made the mistake of reaching down and grabbing me by my jacket, that was all the opportunity I needed. I got my brain and body back on the same page and struck. One well placed knee to the groin and he was down but I refused to let up. I leaned over and kept striking with my fists, blood burning my eyes but I didn't let up. Instinct and adrenaline fueling me. I only found myself stopping when I heard footsteps approaching, it was a miracle it had taken as long as it did for someone to come this way. I wasn't going to let myself get caught so as quickly and quietly as I could I took off down a nearby alleyway and headed home.

It took longer than I liked, I made sure to keep to the shadows as I walked, but I eventually made it back to my apartment. I hoped that no-one else was around because I didn't want to answer questions or risk having the police called on me. Thankfully there was no-one around so I made my way up the stairs to my apartment. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and I knew when I woke up things weren't going to be pleasent but I was just going to have to deal with it. I made my way inside my apartment, the door opening and closing echoing inside my already aching head as I made my way to the bedroom. I knew I should get out of my clothes, into a shower and fix myself up but I just couldn't bring myself to do it or look at myself. I managed to sit on the edge of my bed, my body protesting. I reached for my gun in the waistband of my trousers and placed it back in its usual location, under my pillow, fell back against the mattress and then willed my legs to join the rest of me. I was going to hurt enough when I woke up so there was no need to add further insult to injury. With my legs finally on the bed with the rest of me, I got myself as comfortable as possible and closed my eyes.

Sleep couldn't arrive quick enough.