The only dreams Albert ever has that he remembers are nightmares, likely because his nightmares always take the shape of memories, terrible things past in literal ways. He and Hilda shot to death at the Wall, endless endless surgeries and pain, pain of the body, pain of the soul, pain at watching Jet fall twice, his own heart shatter twice, blond hair matted with blood and viscera and so far away through the television screen that he can't do anything but watch in horror.

He has the last one a lot, these days, as much as he ever dreams. It sets him sitting up gasping, choking on his own rage, disgust, and abject terror. Sinew swaying gently from between Kevin's needle teeth, dripping to the ground...

It's harder to keep such things at bay in the Arena, but with Jet beside him it's doable. Curled around his partner protectively with his nose against the other cyborg's neck, he can almost believe he can keep the other man safe, that none of the evils of the world will be allowed to touch him again so long as Albert is there. He rarely has nightmares when Jet is there to shine his light to scatter the shadows.

But there are times...

Times like now, with the fetor of Initiate's uncontrolled power curling unseen through the hallways and air ducts, seeping into Albert's stressed psyche and sending it into overdrive even at rest, letting the shadows turn loose to play their wicked games.