I can't take full credit for this story, some of it has to go Seylin for giving me the original prompt. It was her idea; she gave it to me and I ran away with it. And by 'ran away with it', I mean that the original quote isn't even in the story, but I think I captured it pretty well anyway.
The curse weighed heavily on him; a constant presence in his life, even though he kept it carefully tucked away—hidden from the world and those he cared most about. It was for their protection as much as his own.
He tossed and turned in bed, trapped as he was in an uneasy sleep that offered no respite from the nightmares that haunted him. He was caught, unable to escape as he watched his friends—his family fall down dead, all because of a vengeful demon's curse.
The dreams were cruel—taunting as they were horrifying. He would always try to save them; always he would fail, watching them die before his very eyes. He was always so helpless to save them.
He wanted to save them.
So, he shut them out. He was cruel and abusive, even to those he loved—to those who he considered friends, his family, his everything. They were always an arm's length away; close enough to see, but too far to touch and that's how he wanted it. It was for the best.
x x x
Sometimes, Will would be so silent and still when he slept. He'd mimic the dead, even though the softest of sounds would bring him back to life. Other times—like this time—he'd twist and turn, whimper and mumble, sometimes he'd even cry in his sleep.
His tears shimmered and glowed in the low witchlight as they slid down his cheeks, and Jem couldn't take it anymore. It hurt him, more than he could say—more than he'd ever risk letting on—to see his parabatai ache in such a way. Jem leaned forward as he reached out and laid on hand on Will's shoulder to wake him from his slumber, from his nightmares.
He didn't stir as Jem shook his shoulder; Will's head thrashed about on his pillow as his whimpers grew louder—grew into words that rang with desperation, "No! No, not him! Anyone, but him!" His hands clenched in the blanket before reaching out for someone who wasn't there. "Not him, please not him."
Will's voice was so broken, so ragged…
Jem stood from his chair, leaning over his sleeping friend as he grasped Will's other shoulder, shaking them both to wake him. "Will!" he hissed desperately, his voice strong and stern despite the quiver. "William!"
Will tensed before starting awake; his eyes snapped open, staring wide and endless up at Jem, but not seeing him. Suddenly, in a panic, Will shot up in bed and barely missed knocking into Jem's chin. Hands grasped for purchase before finally finding Jem's forearms. Will's grip was strong, frightened as he panted heavily, alarm and terror still apparent in his features.
"Will," Jem murmured softly, soothingly, as though he was talking to a frightened child. "It's alright, everything's okay. It was just a dream, only a nightmare."
Jem's gentle words seemed to help; Will relaxed and his grip loosened, but he did not let go of Jem completely. His breathing became deeper, more calm and controlled. Jem sank down, sitting on the edge of Will's bed, holding onto Will as Will held on to him. He was unwilling to put any distance between them at the moment.
There was a certain vulnerability to Will in that moment, one Jem wasn't used to seeing. It made his heart clench tightly, uncomfortably in his chest as his hands slid up Will's arms, coming to rest on his shoulders in a comforting grip.
"Will?" Jem said again, questioning, as his fingers brushed against his friend's neck before settling against Will's erratic pulse. There was silence as nothing else was said before Will suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jem's.
The kiss was as sweet as it was forbidden and even though Jem knew it to be illicit, he couldn't find it within himself to stop it. So, instead, he indulged in the feel of Will's mouth against his own for the few moments it lasted.
"Will," Jem said for the third time, his tone still questioning as his fingers twisted in Will's curly, dark hair. "What was that for?"
"To make sure you're real," Will answered softly, simply, his voice ragged and used from crying while he was asleep and dreaming of the nightmares he never told anyone about, even Jem.
A soft sigh left Jem—it was a breath he hadn't realized he was holding—as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Will's. "I'm here," Jem said. "I'll always be right here, Will."
Will stiffened at that and, for a moment, was silent as his fingers dug into Jem's arms. "Don't make a promise you can't keep," Will finally said, his voice strained as his eyes swam with emotion; the deep pools of blue shining like a window into his tortured thoughts and dreams.
His words were harsh, but Jem saw them for what they truly were; Will's pain, his fear and an underlying plea for help—help that Jem wouldn't deny him when it was so obvious Will needed it.
Jem's fingers curled, tightening as he tugged at Will's hair, tipping his head back before Jem sought out Will's lips to take possession of them; showing him what Jem wasn't able to say, what his parabatai wouldn't believe.
And he showed Will through the night—showing him through every action, every whispered word, every touch, kiss and caress—that he would always be there. Even after the last breath left Jem's body, he would be there to protect and watch over Will. Always.
