Thank you for all the follows/favorites on my first part! Hope you enjoy part 2! Part 3 will be soon.

There will be 4 different parts to this story. You won't have to read them in order. They'll just be companion pieces.


They never really realized how often they touched.

Whether it was a simple pat on the back, or a hand to hold.

Whether it was hug after a hard day, or a kiss after almost dying.

Sometimes it was her punching him. That was one he less preferred.

It could be either a shoulder bump when they were walking, or a kiss on her forehead to remind her that he would keep her safe.

One time it would be on a lonely night of drifting when he would be in the console room. It was so quiet and the scream from down the corridor sent shivers down his spine.

Not to mention how it made his hearts stop.

He's done a lot of running throughout his adventures, but he's never ran as fast as he did that night as he dashed to her room.

And the sight in front of him broke his hearts.

She sat upright in her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she whispered, "It was only a dream" over and over again. She looked over at him, and her expression showed that of terror.

But it also showed relief.

In a quick stride he walked over to her, and sat on her bed. In a swift movement he gathered her in his arms so that her head was resting on his chest.

Neither of them said anything.

There was nothing to be said anyways.

They sat there as he let her sob into his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

He would occasionally whisper to her how everything was okay, that she was safe, but never once did he tell her it was only a dream.

With the things he's seen, he knew better than to tell someone their dream wasn't real. That it couldn't hurt them.

He knew that somewhere that dream was real.

He never told people to stop being afraid of the dark. He knew of the things that lurked in the corners. He knew the monster in the closet was real, or the thing under the bed was real too.

He would tell her that as long as she's with him, he'd keep her safe.

"I know you will." She would say, untangling herself from his grasp so she could look at him.

She could see the worry in his eyes.

"Will you stay with me?" She would ask. He didn't even have to answer that question.

This was his least favorite time they touched. When they lay there, as she would use his chest as a pillow. Under different circumstances this would be enjoyable; a happy moment.

But it wasn't.

And he hated it.

And she was thankful he was there.

To chase away the nightmares, and replace them with happy memories that wouldn't hurt her.

Memories of when they held hands or kissed.

Memories of a hug, or a pat on the back.

Memories of the impossible girl and her impossible friend, in the impossible ship going to impossible places.


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