Avenger's Preferences

Your Nightmare (Being Rewritten)

Closer...closer...closer...

You yelp in surprise as you fall off the bed, tangled up in your light pink sheets. You smack your elbow on the hard floor and you grimace. The same nightmare that had been haunting you for weeks had appeared again, ridding you of sleep. You laid on the ground, holding your elbow and staring up at the ceiling. What had happened to cause you to be afraid of heights?

Sighing, you get up and trudge towards the kitchen, your sheets still hanging around your shoulders. You shivered as the cold tile floor nipped at your toes, and you flicked the light on. Your head hanging, you slip into a nearby chair and stare at the table intently. Why am I so afraid of heights? It's not like anything traumatic happened to me before. And it's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden contact with the concrete.

Shaking your head, you get up, letting your sheet fall to the floor, and walk to the fridge. Your hand grips the handle of the orange juice container and you lift your head and set the jug on the shiny counter top. You turn to the dishes cabinet, swing the door open, and reach for a glass. While your hand gropes around the back of the cabinet, your eye wanders to the nearby window, and your stomach lurches as you remember that you're on the top floor of Stark Tower. With a yelp, the acquired glass slips from your fingers and crashes to the floor. You stare petrified at the open window, watching the small curtains stir with the gentle breeze outside.

Loud footsteps echo down the hall, and soon Tony is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but bright red boxers and a threadbare T-shirt; he's out of breath. He looks at the glass on the floor, then at you, then back at the glass. You try not to cry, but your eyes sting from the effort. Carefully, Tony begins to pick his way towards you, stepping lightly over the bits of glass all over the floor. Eventually he makes it to you, and pulls you into a hug, one hand resting on your head, and one in the small of your back. Finally, the tears come pouring out.

You soak through his shirt and onto his chest, shaking his torso with your loud sobs. You wrap your arms around him, gripping his T-shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you from jumping out the window. A vibrating hum moves through Tony's chest as he speaks.

"What happened?"

Two words. A single question. And you had no answer. You simply shook your head and continued to cry silently. Tony didn't pursue the question, continuing to cradle you until finally you passed out. You faintly remember him carrying you back to your bed, kissing you lightly on the forehead, and shutting off the light before closing the door quietly behind him.

Bruce- The ground moved slowly around you. The faint whisper of hissing filled the otherwise silent air. You couldn't move anything; you were lying down on the forever-changing floor, wondering where you were. As you looked around with your eyes, a shape emerged into your sight. It was round at the top, but shrank into a tube shape near the bottom. With a jolt, you realized where you were: you were in a snake pit.

The cobra sitting on top of you stared unblinking with its dead black eyes. You forced yourself to look away, now noticing that the floor consisted of hundreds of snakes, all writhing underneath you. With a muffled cry, you find sudden feeling in your limbs and you jump upright, upsetting the cobra. It hisses and snaps at you; you yelp and jump out of the way, taking off to the other side of the room. The cobra follows you with strange speed, catching up to you in no time as you find a dead end. You slowly turn around, facing the horrid creature. It flicks its tongue, glaring holes into your forehead. A small whimper escapes your throat.

The cobra hisses and lunges at you. You scream and fling your arms up over your face-

Your head jerks up out of your sleep, your scream becoming a persistent beep from your alarm clock. You groan, slamming your hand on the Snooze button and burying your face into your pillow. Your nightmare becomes a fading memory, although you still clearly remember the cobra's hiss and its large white fangs. You involuntarily shiver and pull yourself out of bed, slipping into your slippers and putting on your robe. You trudge into the kitchen, start the coffee maker, slip two bagels into the toaster, then plop into the only kitchen chair. You run your hands through your tangled hair, trying to forget about your nightmare, although it's kind of hard to forget when the one thing you hate above all other things is snakes.

Ever since you were a little girl, you hated snakes. They were just so gross with their tongues and slitted eyes and the way they just stared at you. You think you're scared of them because you distinctly remember an event in your past: you were going to the zoo with your parents, and you started to go into the Reptile area. Well, apparently one of the more deadly snakes had gotten out of its tank and was now roaming the enclosure. You had begged your parents to not go in, but your father insisted that he could take on a two-ton snake if it even got near you. After that, you were pretty okay until you saw two giant yellow eyes floating right in front of your face. You were frozen in terror, even though your mom was screaming for you to run, but you couldn't.

Eventually, the snake left, leaving you standing there, your eyes wide with fear, and your diaper noticeably soiled. After that incident, you've never set foot in a zoo again and you've always had nightmares about snakes.

You ate your breakfast in silence, walked back into your room, threw some clothes on, and walked into your basement to continue working on your project. Soon, you heard the front door open, and you sighed to yourself. Bruce's head popped out of the basement door, smiling when he saw you. You smiled weakly as he climbed down the rickety stares, setting his bag down and setting out several notebooks. You both worked silently for a while, until Bruce's timid voice spoke up.

"Um...did you sleep okay?" Your head swiveled around.

"H-How did you know?" You asked cautiously. Bruce scratched the back of his head.

"Well, uh...I kind of noticed what you were wearing, and..." You look down, and yelp aloud. (I'm not going to explain how you look; it's that bad.) Trying to hide your blushing face, you nod.

"Yeah, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Bruce nods and goes back to his work without another word. You sigh with relief; you could always count on Banner to not get into your business.

Clint-