This came to me in a dream and I thought it'd make a nice fic. So here it is.
I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns it all.
Is it a crime for me to get some sleep?
Angel opened his eyes and stared at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. 1:42, he thought. How lovely. He turned to see if Collins was having this much trouble sleeping. Angel couldn't see his face because his back was turned to him, but the fact that he wasn't moving, but still breathing, told him that his love was fast asleep.
Angel sighed, got out of bed, and went to the kitchen. Water. That's what I need. He poured himself a glass of water and started drinking it when he heard Collins' voice.
"Angel!?" he heard Collins call. "ANGEL!?" Hearing a combination of worry and fear in Collins' voice, Angel put his glass down and rushed back to the bedroom where he found Collins sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
"Collins?" Angel said, his voice filled with concern. Collins slowly looked up and Angel could immediately tell he was crying. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at Angel, more tears falling as he did. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" When Collins gave no answer, Angel walked over to him, sat on his lap, and hugged him. "What's the matter?"
Collins looked up at him. "I can't tell you," he said, more tears forming in his eyes.
"Why not?"
"Cause you'll think I'm a baby."
"No I won't."
"I . . . I . . ." Collins broke off.
"Sweetheart, what is it?"
"I had . . . a nightmare."
"What happened in the nightmare?" Collins was silent. "Honey?" Angel got off of Collins' lap, sat next to him, and turned his head so they were looking into each other's eyes. "Collins, please tell me what happened." More tears fell from Collins' eyes and Angel wiped them away.
"We were here and . . . everything was normal," Collins began.
"Then what happened?" Angel asked.
Collins took a deep breath. "You started coughing . . . I asked you if you were okay and before you could say that you were fine . . ." he broke off again.
"And?"
"You . . . collapsed on the floor. Then I carried you all the way to the hospital, but when we got there and you were hooked up to all these machines . . . you . . . you died . . . in my arms." Angel just stared at him for a moment. "Then I woke up and you weren't there so . . . I thought–"
"You thought your nightmare was real?" Angel interrupted. Collins nodded. "Well, honey, it wasn't real. I'm still here so we go back to sleep and–"
"I can't sleep," Collins interrupted. "I'm afraid to."
Angel thought for a moment. "I know exactly what you need." He then took Collins by his hand and led him to the kitchen. There he poured milk into a pot and heated it on the stove. After a few minutes he poured the now warm milk into two glasses, gave one of the glasses to Collins, and led him back to the bedroom where they both sat on the bed. "Drink up."
Collins stared into the glass. "What's this supposed to do?" he asked.
"It's supposed to help you sleep. My mom always gave me warm milk when I couldn't sleep. Didn't your parents ever do that for you?"
Collins shook his head. "No."
"Never?"
"Never. They didn't care. I coulda ran away in the middle of the night and they wouldn't even know until the cops came to the door and told them they found my body in a ditch somewhere."
"Oh, honey! I'm sorry!"
"No need to be. You sure this is gonna work?"
"Yes. It always works." Angel and Collins drank their milk together.
"Now what?" Collins asked after they were finished.
"Lie down." Collins slowly lay on his back on the bed, Angel beside him. Collins closed his eyes and felt Angel shift in the bed. Seconds later Collins felt Angel's hand stroking his cheek. He then wrapped his arms around Angel and pulled him close, his eyes still closed. Angel kissed him gently and began singing to him softly. "Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete solito. Qué cuando te despiertes, te daré atolito. Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete mi sol. Duérmete pedazo, de mi corazón."
"Baby, that sounded pretty. What was it?" Collins asked, his eyes still closed.
"A lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I had nightmares," Angel explained.
"I like it."
"I thought you would. Are you still having trouble sleeping?" Collins supplied no answer. "Honey?" Realizing that he was asleep, Angel smiled, kissed his forehead lightly, turned in his arms, and closed his own eyes.
Warm milk and a lullaby, he thought. Works every time.
Hmm . . . review my little story if you please. It will make me happy and keep the nasty nightmares out of Collins' head. :D
Translations:
"Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete solito. Qué cuando te despiertes, te daré atolito. Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete mi sol. Duérmete pedazo, de mi corazón."–"Go to sleep my baby. Go to sleep and dream, for when you awaken you shall have some cream. Go to sleep my baby. Go to sleep my sunshine. You will always be in this heart of mine.
