Nighttime had come again in the London Institute. Most nights were quiet and peaceful; Will left his window open to hear the dull buzz of the crickets and to feel the chilly breeze that blew the dark curtains. However, even as the nights appeared to be pleasant, Will's subconscious was not.
The runed boy tossed and turned in his sleep, his dark eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a small, thin line. His lean body glistened with sweat as his heart rate was anything but steady; he struggled to breathe and small whimpers escaped his lips.
Will's nightmares were frequent and very similar. He stood alone in a very dark, unusual expanse of nothingness. The familiarity of it all caused his stomach to twist and turn; he knew this dream and how it was going to end. If he had any control of himself, he'd turn and run away.
However, his legs moved on their own accord. He couldn't stop himself from proceeding through the foggy abyss, toward a soft, flickering light. He knew right away what the light source was and where it was illuminating. This nightmare was one of his worst.
Unable to stop, a dimly lit bedroom faded into existence, a small candle casting soft shadows onto the floor and walls. Even if he hadn't seen the violin resting on the nightstand or the soft, silvery hair upon the pillow, Will recognized the room immediately. He spent most nights sitting on the edge of his parabatai's bed, discussing whatever was on his mind with his companion as the hours passed with ease.
In this scene, though, James was asleep without the company of his companion. The shadowhunter slept so peacefully that Will almost forgot the permanent outcome of this nightmare. Will was frozen in place just outside of Jem's room, watching him breathe softly and hearing the quiet tick-tock of his clock that hung on the wall. His heart fluttered and he felt very anxious as he was unable to take just two steps into Jem's bedroom.
Then it happened; the unchangeable event that haunted Will's dreams nearly every night. Jem awoke with a start, jerking into a sitting position and doubling over, his entire body convulsing as he was racked with coughs. Even from far away, Will could see the fever reddening Jem's cheeks and squeezing tears from his eyes. If it weren't just that, Jem seemed to be trying to call out for someone. In between the horrible hacking and the ceaseless trembling of his skinny body, Jem's hoarse voice croaked only one name: Will.
It was terrible; Will felt as if he were nailed to the floor, forced to watch Jem suffer and cry. What made it all worse was that his parabatai was hoping- no, expecting- that Will would rescue him. Will had promised countless times that he would be there for Jem, but this relapsing ordeal caused that promise to deteriorate further and further. It wasn't as if Will didn't want to save Jem- no- he didn't think he could. This dream chipped Will's confidence more each time he had it, and Will began to doubt that he was even worthy of being Jem's parabatai. He couldn't save him. He wasn't strong enough.
An ear-shattering scream, the most horrible noise Will had ever heard in his life, cut through the near-silence and Will was forced to watch as Jem began tearing at his own skin. He dug his nails into his cheeks and attempted to rip the flesh out. This was new; the nightmare had never been this horrible.
Will could not look away. He couldn't avert his eyes from the tears streaming down the shadowhunter's bloody cheeks, the convulsing body, the wide-open mouth that began heaving vomit. Will's only release was the moment the cool breeze of the night blew out Jem's candle, allowing Will a break from the disgusting scene. However, this break almost made the nightmare worse, as Will now heard every noise his parabatai made clearer than before. He heard the tear of his skin, the hurling of his stomach, the terrible screams fading into pained whimpers, and the ragged breathing.
The first time he had had this dream, he was sobbing. His heart rate was through the roof and tremors shook the dark-haired boy's body. However, these dreams came so often that Will watched now without reaction, the horrible images still branded into his mind and still traumatizing him in the same way. He hoped that if he didn't react, it would hurt less. This wasn't the case, though.
The noises stopped. Will was suddenly aware that the darkness was caused by his eyes being closed, and with a warm feeling of relief, he knew that he was awake and back in his room. Although he was thankful that the nightmare was over, he was still aware of the wetness of his cheeks and the small shivering of his hands and lips. His relief was short lived.
Taking a deep breath, Will knew that the only way he'd feel better would be if he saw Jem; he needed to assure himself that his parabatai was safe and okay, for one thing, but he also wanted the comfort of Jem's scent and his warmth. Will quietly pulled the blankets off of his sweating body and swung his feet off of the bed, pushing himself into a standing position. After rubbing the tears and the sleep from his eyes, Will left his room and walked down the hall to find Jem's.
Once he stood in front of the boy's door, he opened it without knocking; he didn't have to. The cool breeze of his parabatai's room brushed Will's hair from his eyes and Will, in relief, saw Jem sleeping in his bed; composedly and in one piece.
Will quietly walked to Jem's bed and invited himself in, pulling the covers away and sliding underneath them. Jem was a light sleeper, and upon feeling the shift in the mattress, he opened his eyes gently and laid them upon Will's fragile form. Will and Jem laid facing each other on their sides, staring quietly through the darkness of the night.
"Will," he whispered softly, his voice not questioning or accusing; only a statement of a fact. Will. It was Will.
Will opened his mouth to speak, but he found that he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to talk about what he had seen that night, but he knew that Jem would want to know.
Closing his mouth, Will looked down and breathed steadily. Jem's eyes, like a steady flame, gazed upon Will's expression.
"You had another bad dream," Jem stated when Will said nothing. Of course he knew. Will, closing his eyes, nodded slightly. Jem's next expression was one of pity as he hummed; a low, soft noise of sympathy. This wasn't the first time he'd come to Jem for comfort.
Jem stretched a thin arm over Will's broad shoulder, pulling the Herondale boy closer to his own chest. Will accepted this invitation eagerly as he buried his nose into Jem's collarbone, his legs becoming tangled with Jem's, and his arms scrunched against his chest, trapped between their bodies. Jem's arms wrapped around Will's form, rubbing small circles in his back and shoulder. His lips met Will's forehead several times, his voice a soft whisper.
"I'm safe here, William," Jem stated, clearly knowing what Will's dream was about, "you're safe here too. We're safe together."
Will could only nod as the images of his dream flooded his mind once again, causing his eyes to well with tears. Jem noticed this and leaned forward to kiss Will's cheeks gently, swiping the tears from his eyes.
"I love you," he said once he pulled back Will's face slightly, allowing Will to look into his eyes. Will couldn't look away.
"I love you," he whispered again, "I love you, Will." After a moment of staring at each other with an air of closeness and intimacy, Jem pulled Will close to him once more.
Will finally spoke. "I love you too," he replied in a small voice that gave Jem a wide smile. Jem kissed Will's dark hair one last time before whispering in the boy's ear, "turn around."
Will did as he was told and turned around so that he faced away from Jem. Jem pulled Will close once again into a spooning position; a very gentle, comforting position that made Will quite drowsy. The two laid there in near-silence, the only noise being Jem's soft murmuring and cooing in Will's ear. Will felt soothed by the ginger ambience, and soon, the two were both fast asleep, just beside the one that they loved.