I wake up to the sensation of being elbowed in the side. Years of military training kick in and I instantly go for my pistol, hanging in its holster on my bed post. But as the sleep-induced haze drains away, I begin to process the sounds of muffled crying.
"...Ed?" I call out softly.
No answer.
I roll over.
The small, crumpled form trembling beneath the covers bears little resemblance to the strong, stubborn, gold-haired, young man I'm used to.
"Nnnn...I'm sorry..." he murmurs, reaching out to someone only he can see.
There's just enough light from the windows to reflect the tear tracks on the side of his face.
"Edward," I say, gently reaching out for his shoulder.
He thrashes around, knocking my hand away.
"Rrrggh...Mom...Mom!"
"Edward!" I cry out, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.
Come back to me, Edward, I think desperately to myself.
He struggles against me, his incoherent murmuring growing louder. I tighten my grip on his hand, twining our fingers together as the nightmare pulls him further and further away.
"...mmm...forgive me...please, forgive me..." he whimpers.
It kills me to hear him say these things, to see him broken down to this vulnerable form by things I can't even see. He's so far away.
I kiss the back of his hand.
"You have to forgive yourself, Edward," I tell him, knowing he can't hear me. Even when he's awake he can't hear me. Or won't.
He begins to scream. Terrified screams. A child's screams. He twists and contorts, limbs flying in every direction at invisible enemies. A few blows barely miss me. But I don't let go of his hand.
Finally, the terrors release their hold on him and he awakens with a great gasp of air, like a near drowning man.
For a moment we lay there in silence. I know he hates that I've seen him this way. Even though I've seen it a hundred times by now, the shame never seems to go away.
I kiss his shoulder, wrapping my arm around him, our hands still intertwined.
"Sorry," he whispers hoarsley.
"Come here," I tell him.
He slowly rolls over, refusing to look me in the eyes and buries himself into my chest. He begins to shake, making the whole bed shudder. I rest my chin on his head. I feel the hot tears against my skin and hear the shaky, sniffling breaths.
For just a moment, I want to set the entire world on fire for all the damage it's inflicted upon this poor boy. But the notion soon fades, because I know I'm at least partially at fault for that pain. When I made an offer to that fierce-eyed, crippled boy back in Risenbool, I had no idea that I'd end up falling in love with him.
"I'm right here, Edward," I whisper. "It's okay."
"It's not," he murmurs from beneath me.
I look down to reassure him, but those golden eyes catch me before I can say anything.
"But thanks for saying it, anyways."