He knew it was fragments of memories, whispers of his childhood, yet that didn't help the fear, the instinctive reaction of the tiger to protect. Many nights the scene unfolded, leaving him tangled in sheets, drenched in sweat. Liquor couldn't calm him, he doubted much would. His twisted psyche threw up various ways he could've saved them all. Ways he wouldn't have lost everything that mattered to him that night. He knew subconsciously it wasn't true, he'd barely been in control of himself then, but the nightmares still grabbed hold, refusing to let him leave their grasp.