It's late when Velveteen Dream makes his way to the hotel room, trying to be quiet and failing drastically as the door beeps loudly, then issues a rough, squeeching noise as he opens it, followed by a heavy slam that seems to reverberate through the room even though he tries to shut it behind him quietly. He pinches his nose and leans against the wood, expecting lights to come on and questions to be levied at him at any time, but it doesn't happen. He blinks into the shadows and looks up, surprised.

Toeing his shoes off, he walks over to the bed and stares down, swallowing hard at the peace on Aleister's face as he sleeps on, brow smooth, lips parted slightly, unbothered by Dream's obnoxiously loud entry into the room. The main roster were without live events this weekend and Aleister had offered to come with, so they could spend some more time together, because he'd been so busy with the main roster that time together had been limited the last couple of months. He closes his eyes for a moment and then swallows, peeling his shirt off, and then his pants. Leaving himself in his boxers, deciding that the shower he took back at the arena will have to suffice, he eases into bed and lays on his back, staring upwards with a grimace on his face.

Aleister is still sleeping peacefully, Dream glancing over at him. He's overwhelmed by both relief that Aleister's getting some badly needed rest after such a ridiculous schedule the last few months, juggling Raw, Smackdown, and NXT along with everything else, and frustration that he can't seem to ease off into sleep as easily. He exhales and slowly rolls over with his back to Aleister now, allowing his gaze to travel to their bags resting near the wall.

He closes his eyes and tries, he really does. He has to drive to the next event in the morning, he has to compete again, he needs his sleep, but every time he closes his eyes, he hears it, so sharp and clear... He starts to tremble, just a little, re-considering even trying to sleep right now, certain that his dreams will be haunted too. He's so close to getting up, trying to find something to do to pass the hours that won't disturb Aleister... when he feels something shift behind him, a faint, sleepy noise before warmth presses against his back, an arm lightly draping over his waist, fingers exploring down his chest and abs, lips and nose nuzzling against his neck. "Hey, you're back," Aleister's sleep-rough voice greets him and Dream swallows, fresh guilt joining the previous.

"I d- didn't mean to wake you," he says, cursing himself. His voice is shaking and quiet, not anywhere close to the usual confident and suave tones that it usually is.

Aleister pauses and then Dream feels himself being carefully eased onto his back, Aleister hovering over him, searching his face with a perplexed, worried look in his eye. "What's wrong, Patrick?"

Dream considers brushing it off, giving some weak lie, but he's sure the pictures are on the internet, by now, and if he doesn't say anything, Aleister will see, and... He closes his eyes. "I wrestled Breeze tonight," he mumbles. Aleister nods, encouraging him. "He... he tried to superkick me and I... I moved aside." He worries his lip for a few moments before continuing. "Well, the referee was... behind me, and Breeze kicked him, and... I'm not sure what happened." Dream digs his palms into his eyesockets. "There was just this noise, like nothing else I've really ever heard before."

"What happened?" Aleister whispers, not wanting to disrupt Dream's story but growing more worried by how pale Dream is looking, his gaze distant, lost in some hell Aleister's not apart of right now.

"The referee landed wrong, I guess," he mumbles. "Broke his leg, it was just... like, twisted and... the guy... absolutely ridiculous, the match ended pretty quickly after that and he... counted the pin? Couldn't even stand but he still..." Dream shakes his head, glancing at Aleister before looking away again. "I... I wasn't sure what that noise was at first, but... it was his leg snapping, man. I just... keep hearing it. If I hadn't moved, if-"

"It's not your fault," Aleister whispers, fingers easing along Dream's jaw, light and warm. "We both know these things just happen. I'm sure the referee doesn't blame you." Dream's gaze is still haunted, not fully grasping what Aleister is saying, and he sighs softly, stroking Dream's face. "Which referee was it?"

"Tom Castor," he whispers, seeing the recognition cross Aleister's face. "Yeah. Like, one of the nicest referees we've got?" He shakes his head. "It's not fair."

"No, it's not." He settles back down, resting his head on Dream's shoulder, lightly massaging his ab muscles. "You know, he and I, we used to room together? Before all of this?" Aleister motions at Dream, their bags side by side, every other hint of their life together.

"Oh yeah?" he asks softly. "How'd that go?"

Aleister laughs slightly, his breath tickling Dream's throat. "The man snored. No matter what I did, it was just so loud." He hesitates for a moment, then sighs. "I actually considered smothering him with a pillow at one point, I was so tired."

Dream barks out a startled laugh, glancing over at him. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Aleister smirks. "I'm glad I didn't now, the man is more of a badass than I realized, he might've destroyed me in his sleep before I even got close."

"Yes, that would've been rather tragic," Dream says dryly, shaking his head at his significant other. "I dare you to post that story on Twitter in the morning, babe."

Glad that Dream is sounding a little more like himself, Aleister wraps an arm around him and tucks him in a little closer. "Perhaps," he says. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Dream doesn't say anything for a long moment and then casts uncertain eyes back on him. "Would you mind... uh, just talking until I do? It can be about anything, I just... kinda need to hear your voice right now."

"Of course," Aleister whispers. He's never been much for talking, but between partnering with Ricochet and his relationship with Dream, he thinks he's getting better, little by little, at finding his voice, so he strokes Dream's skin soothingly until he settles in against the pillows, tilting his face towards Aleister. "Anything?"

"Anything," Dream murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as Aleister kisses him softly.

"Alright." So he talks, searching around for something calm, something simple. Kickboxing routines that he's just discovered, the latest metal CD he'd bought, even a new meditation technique that he wants to try with Dream the next day off they both have. He talks softly, watching as Dream drifts, his breathing growing slow and soft, certain that he's almost out, when he stirs, just a little.

"m' glad you were here tonight," he whispers, eyes still closed, voice sounding dreamy. "I love you, Aleister."

Aleister brushes his nose against Dream's jaw, kissing him again. "I'm also glad I was here," he whispers to him. "And I love you as well." Once Aleister's sure Dream is finally asleep, the horrific memories of the night not affecting his rest, he lays back down, hugging him close, and closes his eyes, Dream's warm, steady breathing easing him back to sleep as well.