This is a little drabble/one-shot that I wrote for the great dont-go-out/sempain, who talked to me when I was feeling a little down. I felt I had to return the favor, so I typed this up.

Enjoy!

"...phy, wa...p..."

"Murph... pl...ke up..."

"Murphy, wake up-"

Almost instantly, Murphy shot his eyes open. It took him a second before he took quick, rapid breaths. After gaining control of his breathing, he gave one long exhale as he rested his left arm on his forehead. His entire body was covered in cold sweat, and his hair was sticking to his skin.

Before he could think to himself, a soft voice mumbled, "You were talking in your sleep again..." Resting his arm by his head, Murphy peered down to see a familiar brunet sitting at the foot of the bed. Hazel eyes looking at him with concern, Murphy looked away, staring at the ceiling as he stated, "It was that same dream, Henry..."

This was not the first time. Murphy would have a horrid dream, though he would not go into detail as to what happened, and Henry would sit there and offer some comfort until he was ready to go back to bed. Nevertheless, the younger male still had trouble finding the right words or actions to do so. As Murphy sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at the ground, Henry slightly turned towards him, burying his fingers into the comforter underneath him. It was hard to see the ex-convict this way. He was the strong, dependable kind of guy, and Henry admired that. Yet, this was the one excuse that had him cower over and feel weak.

"You would think..." Murphy began, keeping his eyes on the dark carpet, "that after everything I've been through in that town, it wouldn't bother me..." He made no effort to continue talking, though Henry kept his ears open. Listening would not be enough, however. Hesitantly, though it would take effort to reach over, Henry held one of his hands, silently letting him know that it was alright. In return, the older man lightly squeezed the other's hand while he held his free palm to his own forehead. His face cringing, he murmured, "I... I still miss him..." Slightly frowning, Henry attempted to say some words, but as his lips parted, nothing came out. Instead, he squeezed his hand tightly. He hoped that the simple action could let him know this: it was normal that he would miss a loved one, and even if they weren't physically here, they would always be with him.

Henry assured Murphy that - his son would always be with him, and his quiet partner would always be with him.