I had never heard Jerome cry before.
I woke up to it that night.
Jerome was huddled under his covers, sobbing into his pillow, his breath coming in short, painful gasps that clutched my heart. It was scary to see him like this.
"Jerome?" I asked softly. I paced quietly to his bed and touched his shoulder. He sat up, startled, and flung his arm out, hitting me square in the chest.
"Sorry, Alfie." He said when he saw me. I sat down on the bed and he squirmed uneasily.
"What's wrong?" I questioned directly. Jerome looked down. He knew better than to say "Nothing". He was quiet for a while.
"I had a bad dream." He muttered, looking embarrassed-no, nervous.
I had a lot of bad dreams brought on by my claustrophobia, and whatever else I had picked up on Sibuna missions, but this was new for Jerome.
"About what?"
"I don't want to tell you." He was scared. His blue eyes were wide and he was sweating. I had to comfort him like he had always done for me.
"Okay." I said gently and moved closer to him.
As I tried to put my arms around him, he suddenly stirred, shuffling away from me. Confused and hurt, I awkwardly lowered my arms.
Jerome blinked hard and seemed to relax then. He sat next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back and felt him weep quietly into my shoulder. I wanted to cry, but I made myself be strong for him (to put it in a clichéd, but true, way).
We fell asleep holding each other that night, and did not speak of it in the morning.