Squick warning: Intrusive thoughts and a little violence.
It was that time again. The sun had set long ago, and even the night owls had retreated to their tents for the night. Hunched over the table covered in books and maps, the flickering of her lantern had become a sore to her exhausted eyes. The crickets that wailed outside her tent rang deep into her eardrums in a cacophonous unmelodic clamor that was now baked into her mind. Robin rested her head atop her arms which she uncomfortably folded on top of the map she had sketched. She could no longer deny it - she was completely exhausted. She contemplated sleeping in her current position. She had done so several times before, only to awaken to a frustrated Chrom, quick to lecture her for not sleeping properly.
With a prayer and a staggered sigh, Robin extinguished her lantern and retreated to join her husband in bed. With any luck, maybe she'd exhausted herself enough to fall asleep immediately.
Upon seeing Chrom's sleeping face, still and completely at peace, Robin crawled in next to him, already feeling her heart palpitating. She clutched her chest, taking another deep breath. She checked if she had, indeed extinguished the lantern before redirecting her attention to Chrom. Let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay.
As if on cue, Chrom nuzzled up to her, bringing his arm around her and pulling her closer, much to her chagrin. Robin shuddered at his touch, praying on repeat that tonight would be different. Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me.
Her hands pressed to his bare chest, feeling the slow rising and falling of his chest. His touch was somehow cathartic to her tensed breathing. His embrace was warm, soothing the chills against her skin. Yes, maybe tonight they'd be able to sleep in peace.
Robin closed her eyes, convinced that it'd be morning before she even had a chance to worry.
Until it happened - the sound she was too familiar with echoed in some abstract place within her mind. It wasn't a memory - yet, although it was vivid as one.
It was a stifled wail of pain. It was dreadful; it was a desperate plea.
It was Chrom, clenching his wounds as his own blood quickly covered his hands. His pained face looked up to Robin with big, pleading eyes as he collapsed to the ground.
Robin's eyelids fluttered open. Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me, she chanted internally. She felt her husband beneath her hands; he was still breathing, peaceful as ever when he'd sleep. He was fine.
So she tried again, closing her eyes and resting her head next to him. Of course it didn't take long before the scene played out again, watching her own possessed hand strike her husband. Her hand burned with his blood, yet she smiled. She smiled, watching him fall to the ground, again and again. She watched herself lick the blood from her fingers, basking in the site of another dead exalt. She scrunched her eyes, trying to sit through the scene and let the panic pass. Let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay. Her heart was pounding profusely against her chest, surprised that alone didn't wake up Chrom.
When she couldn't take it anymore, she opened her eyes again, deciding that it was futile to try to sleep yet. She groaned, wishing for nothing more than to not be plagued by this thought night after night.
So she sat alone in her thoughts, focusing on the screeching of the crickets, the trees rustling in the wind, and the sound of Chrom's breaths next to her, relaxed and undisturbed - how she envied him sometimes. She looked to her hand that rested against his chest, taking in the sensation of the heat radiating from his skin.
The hand that touched him became enveloped in light right before her eyes. It sizzled and sparked, and all she could do was obey the marionette that made her drive her magic into him.
Naga, Naga, Naga, Naga, no, no, no, no!
She could practically hear Chrom groan in pain, gasping for air with a blood-filled mouth. Let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay, let him be okay. He choked, blue eyes wide in fear, weakly grasping her wrist as he whispered "it's not your fault," although barely comprehensible. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!
Robin grabbed her own hand and yanked it away from Chrom and pulled it held it tightly against her own person.
The same vision that happened night after night, day after day. One. Robin clenched her fists until her nails broke the skin on her hands. Two. She took a deep breath, but couldn't seem to take in any oxygen. Three. She pushed her sleeping husband away, turning over so she wouldn't face him. Four. Her lungs felt tight. One. She couldn't breathe. Two. Strangling under her own panic, three, she did her very best to stifle her voice as she hyperventilated. Four. Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me, Naga be with me.
She knew Chrom was stirring next to her. She knew, and she knew he was all right. She hadn't harmed him - she couldn't harm him. So why, why in Naga's name must she fear that she will?
"Robin?" He asked in a strained, sleepy voice.
She couldn't answer without giving herself away. Tears were streaming down her face, thoroughly soaking her pillow as she held her breath to mask her whimpering.
"Hey, look at me. What's wrong?" He urged, already feeling more alert.
"Sorry." She choked out. "Nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep."
"Robin …" Chrom placed a hand on her shoulder. She swatted his hand away and sat up in their cot, still trying to catch her breath.
"Don't. Please." She tugged at her hair, combing through in with her fingers, yanking out strands as she did so. She couldn't bear to look at him right now. She knew he'd be confused - hurt, even. "I'm sorry," she sobbed.
Chrom sat up as well, wanting nothing more than to pull her close to him. But he respected her orders to stay away, for whatever reason she needed him to. He already knew what was wrong, even if neither of them understood it completely. This wasn't the first time it had happened. "My love, what can I do?"
"I don't know." Her hands grew clammy as she continued to hyperventilate.
"Robin, please look at me." He said, hardly above a whisper. "Listen to me. I'm right here. You're not going to hurt me."
"You don't ... know ... that…" she wheezed between breaths.
No matter how much he could try to prove her wrong, it was futile. Robin was a smart woman; she had a counter for everything. On nights like this, nothing could convince her she wasn't dangerous.
"Can you do what Lissa recommended?" Chrom asked, wanting nothing more than to hug her and make everything okay. Chrom didn't understand how meditating could be useful to Robin in the middle of an episode, but Lissa's guess was probably better than anyone's. Lissa was the only other person who knew, but even a skilled cleric such as herself could only do so much for someone whose malady wasn't visible.
She didn't answer. She continued clawing at her hair, counting and praying like a broken record. Each prayer relieving the panic for only a matter of seconds before she'd have to repeat it.
"I can't." She scrunched her eyes close. "I'm sorry. I can't."
"Okay," Chrom interjected. "It's okay. We'll stay up as long as we need to, all right?"
Robin nodded. She hated that she had to keep Chrom up, night after night. But he refused to let her deal with the horrific visions alone.
So he sat with her, simply talking, fighting the urge to hold her against him and instead leaving as much physical distance as she needed. It was a gesture that felt like nothing to him, but meant the world to Robin. Focusing on his voice - the rising intonation when he'd ask a question, the dips and trailing of his tone when telling a story - she listened until she could respond and help carry the conversation. And they would talk all night if need be. Sometimes, that was the case. This time, within an hour, Robin's eyelids were lead weights as she drifted to sleep to the most soothing of lullabies.
When Robin didn't respond to Chrom's question, he knew she was finally able to sleep. He watched her soft breaths, the gentle rising and falling of her chest, wishing she could always be in such a state of peace. He could face war on the battlefield, but Robin didn't deserve to take the battlefield home with her. Wishing with all his heart she didn't have to fight so hard for solace, he exhaled a heavy breath and fell asleep next to her for the remainder of the night.
Author's Note: My first fic that isn't Pokémon! I'm proud of that. In other news, my intention was to write Robin with ocd because I am evil and if I must suffer, so must my favorite characters. I'd just like to point out that Chrom doesn't "cure" her in any way. If only it were that easy. No, he simply offers his presence. Everyone with the disorder is different, but I know sometimes just being able to talk to someone helped me, maybe as a way of distraction, until I could get proper treatment. That being said, thank you for reading. Please be nice in the reviews! Best wishes, until next time!