A/N: Takes place during the early parts of AMoL, some time after the battle for the Black Tower.
She wakes up to his scream in the dead of the night, as she has almost every night since the rescue. It never fails to chill her to the bone; she can hardly begin to imagine such horrors as would make a man like Logain cry out in anguish like that. It never fails to break her heart to watch as he stares blindly at nothing, breathing hard, trying to remember where he is. Even when he eventually works his way out of the nightmare, he's too wound up to relax and go back to sleep.
Without looking at Gabrelle, he tosses the blankets aside and gets out of bed. She watches him in the dim light filtering through the curtains; the streets of the Black Tower have been lit day and night since the battle that drove out Taim and his filth. Light means safety, at least in theory; fewer shadows for anything to hide in. Pacing back and forth like a caged animal, trying to regain control of himself, Logain has the look of someone who is not sure he'll ever feel safe again. The bond between them is a torrent of pain and rage and blinding hatred and sickening terror.
"I'm going to kill him," Logain whispers raggedly, hands clenching into fists as if he's imagining himself breaking Taim's neck with his bare hands. "I am going to kill him so dead there will be nothing left of him to be reborn in the Ages to come!"
Gabrelle lies still, not pretending to be asleep — he would know the difference because of the bond — but neither saying anything. There is nothing she could possibly say that would make it better, and he would not welcome her attempts at comfort, not yet. All she can do is wait for the worst to pass.
Finally he stops pacing, coming to a halt by the window. He parts the curtains a bit to look out, then lets them fall back into place again. With a sigh, he rests his head against the wall. Gabrelle slips out of bed and approaches him quietly, circles her arms around his waist, leaning lightly against his broad back. For a moment he's unresponsive. Then, slowly, he places one big hand over hers and squeezes lightly. The bond is still overflowing with anger and fear, and anger at the fear, but there is also a faint glimmer of gratitude.
"Come back to bed," Gabrelle whispers.
"I'm going to kill him," Logain repeats, but the fire has burned itself out, leaving him drained and hollow. His whole body shakes as he chokes back a sob; even in the privacy of his own bedroom he cannot allow himself to weep. Anger is what he must feel. Anger will keep him going until he can claim the life of the monster who broke him — or die trying.
Gabrelle sighs, tears burning in her own eyes. "He's not here now, my love. There's nothing we can do about him right now. Please, let's just go back to bed."
He nods mutely and lets her lead him away. He holds her close under the blankets, and she lets him, knowing that he needs it more than she needs sleep.
"I see him when I close my eyes," Logain whispers after a while. "He never joined the ritual itself. Not him. He would just… watch. Like it was all some performance for his amusement. Not that he ever showed any signs of amusement. Or anything else. He'd just watch…" He trails off, shivering violently.
Gabrelle holds him tighter, stroking his hair soothingly. "He'll pay for his crimes," she says, willing her voice to sound resolute, unwavering. "Before this is over, he'll pay for what he did to you."
Something that might be amusement surfaces briefly across the bond, and Logain presses a tender kiss on her forehead. "My beautiful, fierce Gabrelle Sedai," he murmurs softly.
No more words are exchanged. Logain eventually falls asleep again, the need for rest conquering the fear of what sleep might bring. Gabrelle lies awake, unable to sleep despite her exhaustion, foolishly wishing that she could by her mere presence shield him against the nightmares.
Foolish or not, perhaps Light granted her wish, for the rest of the night passes in peace.