I don't own Atlantis.
This takes place after Safe and Sound but is a standalone fic.
Thought of this while listening to "Lothlorien" by Enya.
Lyle knew the sound before he was even fully awake. Milo, waking up screaming from another nightmare. Sure enough, when he turned over, the linguist was sitting bolt upright, shaking and clutching the covers. His face was ghostly pale, his brown eyes wide with fear, and his face wet with tears. His lower lip quivered as he stared out over the sleeping city of Atlantis outside their window. Thankfully, their room was in the royal palace, which meant it was unlikely Milo had wakened anyone else in the huge building. Only Lyle, who didn't mind. Who understood what was wrong.
"Milo?" he said softly, so as not to startle the young man.
"L-Lyle...I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to wake you." Rourke sat up beside Milo and brushed his hair aside.
"It's okay, Milo. That's what I'm here for." He dried a few tears from the scholar's eyes before they had a chance to fall, "Was it the flashback again?" Milo nodded and Rourke pulled him close, letting his chin rest in Milo's hair and rubbing his back soothingly.
"I know it's over and all, but it still seems so real. Especially..." He cut off, wondering if he should share the change in the dream with Lyle or not. But then, if he couldn't tell Lyle, who COULD he tell?
"What?" Rourke asked, concerned.
"Well...it was reversed. You were injured in the volcano battle. You fell off the balloon...You were the one dying, not me. A-And..." His tears started to form again and he unconsciously clung to Rourke. "...th-the crystal...d-d-didn't s-save you!" He shook harder and Rourke hugged him close.
"I'm right here, Milo, and I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here, and no one is going to hurt you in any way. I promise."
"I know. God, why am I so...worked up by this?" This was normal, too. Milo still beat himself up whenever he showed anything remotely akin to weakness. Perhaps it was a result of his tragic past and hard, lonely childhood, where he was always the target for bullies because of his small size, intelligence, and glasses. Hearing such things so much had made Milo start to believe them.
"Why can't I be more like you, Lyle?"
"Because then you wouldn't be Milo, the man I fell in love with on the trip to Atlantis. You'd just be some dumb grunt toting a gun and spewing orders." This achieved its goal, as Milo gave a tiny smile and shook his head against the broad chest.
"You're not dumb, Lyle, you just have a different kind of knowledge." Rourke couldn't help but grin at the sweet, innocent way he said it. Sometimes, he'd say things on purpose, just to get Milo to talk that way. It was one thing he loved about the scholar, along with the starry-eyed look of wonder that had become natural for Milo. This man was so different from all the military and mercenary types he'd encountered before. He never felt any connection to them. But the minute he'd seen Milo, he'd felt a sudden need to protect the young linguist. He remembered dragging the frightened and disoriented Milo through the submarine to the EVAC shuttle when the Leviathan attacked, how truly scared to death he'd been, hugging The Shepherd's Journal for dear life and screaming in terror as the beast chased them.
Of course, Milo had been through much worse since then, thanks to Helga's betrayal. Rourke still shuddered at the image of the broken and bloody Milo dying in his arms on the floor of the volcano, and the memory of the panic that overtook him when he learned nothing could be done in time to save Milo, just before the Crystal had taken Milo up to it and healed him before placing him back in Lyle's arms. Much like he was now.
"Well, no matter, I don't want you to be like me, Milo. I love you the way you are, and I wouldn't change it for the world." Milo reached up and hugged his neck, their crystals knocking against each other.
"I wouldn't change you either, Lyle. You always make me feel safe and loved."
"Because you are, Milo. You are the most wonderful person I've ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone loving."
"Even though I wake you up like this every night?" Rourke laughed and ran his fingers through Milo's soft hair.
"Yes, even then. Besides, you love me even though you say I snore like a sawmill." Now Milo laughed.
"You do, but not as bad as Cookie did. Anyway, I don't mind it. It helps me sleep some nights." Rourke smiled and lay back down, Milo on top of him, the linguist's head against his heart. With a contented sigh, Rourke pulled the covers back over the two of them and laid there just holding his love, watching those warm brown eyes slowly close as Rourke continued to rub his back soothingly. This was still so strange to him, being soft, gentle, affectionate with someone else. But it came easily to him when it involved Milo, who naturally wouldn't hurt a fly, though his sometimes clumsiness got him injured a few times. He found he rather liked this side of himself, mainly because it helped him become closer to Milo, but also because he knew it was necessary. Being his old, strict, military self would only hurt Milo, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. His thoughts wandered to the war that had been about to start on the surface when they left, and how Milo had said he couldn't go back for fear of being drafted. Lyle had almost said he would go and protect him, but stopped because he knew that wasn't how the military worked. Besides, Milo was so happy here in Atlantis, the place he'd dreamed of finding his whole life. The only thing that made it better, according to the scholar, was having someone to love and share it with.
As Milo slept peacefully against him, Rourke looked up at the ceiling and thanked whatever higher powers or Fates existed for giving him the wonderful gift of this paradise to call home, and giving him an amazing man to share it with. Then he hugged his Milo close and fell asleep again, a blissful smile on his face.