AN: I was supposed to be writing the second to last chapter of Ranger's Rangers today, but I seem to be a wee bit blocked. It's very frustrating as I know what I want to happen, but I'm having a hard time getting it out of my head and written out. It might have something to do with my real life Rangers playing like dookie since the Olympic break and are in danger of losing their playoff berth. They play Winnipeg tomorrow so everybody, I want to hear LET'S GO RANGERS! If they know we're all pulling for them, maybe they can get their shit together and start playing hard again.

This little ditty, however, was written in just a few hours. Hope you likee.

All recognizable characters or places are the sole property of their respective authors. This plot, however, is all mine.

SPOV

Very early Saturday morning I was abruptly woken by my phone vibrating on my bedside table.

"Hello." I croaked.

"Stephanie! Are you okay?" It was Carlos and he sounded frantic.

"I'm fine. I was asleep. What's wrong?" I whispered, already up and peeking in on the baby. I crept downstairs quietly, trying not to wake him.

"Jesus! I'm sorry, I had a…you're really okay?"

"It's fine. What happened? Where are you?" It didn't sound like he was home. I moved the curtain in the living room window and sure enough, he was parked outside.

"I'm here. It was so fucking real. I'm so sorry I woke you up." Oh god he had another nightmare. I just can't imagine.

"I see you out there. Come on in. We can talk about it."

"No, I know you're okay now. Go back to bed. I'm sorry." He said contritely.

"Carlos, just get in here. I can't go back to sleep now." I walked over and opened the door, shivering against the blast of frigid air. "C'mon it's freezing!" His dome light blinked on as he opened the door and climbed out. He hurried up the porch steps, stepped inside and closed the door.

"Where's your coat? It's so friggin cold out there!" I looked up at his face, the worry and anxiety I could see there was heartbreaking. "Hey, what happened, another nightmare?" His eyes flicked all over me as if examining me for a visible injury and simply nodded. "C'mon, let's have some cocoa." He followed me into the kitchen and stood close behind me while I turned on the flame under the kettle. I turned and leaned against the counter folding my arms around myself, suddenly conscious of the fact that I only had on a thin white tank top and baggy sweatpants. I kept the house pretty cool at night and my body was, quite obviously, responding to the colder than usual temperature in the kitchen. If he were calmer I would go and put on a robe or something, but he was just standing in the middle of the room, looking lost. I didn't want to leave him alone right now.

"Sit down Carlos." I said gently. He seemed to shake himself and he finally really looked at me.

"Oh! You're cold. Here." He unzipped his hoodie and draped it around my shoulders. It was warm and soft and smelled of fabric softener and a tiny bit of sweat. I became acutely aware of the fact that his gallantry had left him in only pajamas nearly identical to mine. Only his tank top was clinging tightly to his muscled torso. That awful surge of guilt rushed up and I turned away, thankful that the kettle was whistling and I had an excuse to turn my back on him for a second.

Anthony had been gone for over two years now and I was struggling with the idea of maybe, in the future, becoming involved with someone else. He and I had been together since sophomore year in high school, he had been my only. Over the years, I'd of course, seen other men I thought were attractive, but the idea of sleeping with anyone else was repellant. Since I'd been going to therapy, I'd noticed the return of my libido along with the leveling of my emotions. I was half Italian after all, but I was nowhere near ready to even date yet, but something about this man…I gave my own head a shake and pulled down some mugs and mixed up the cocoa.

"Here." I said handing him his mug. "Let's go sit in the living room, it'll be more comfy."

I curled up in my favorite chair and he took the seat on the couch closest to me.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He said tiredly. I hated how defeated he sounded. He leaned back against the cushions and let his head flop back.

"Carlos, please? Talk to me?" Even his subconscious wanted to talk, otherwise I don't think he would've have called me.

"It was pretty bad, the last time I had this dream was the other day…when I told you I drove by here and you were up. I was worried about you two." He said quietly, looking away.

"I'm fine, look at me." He darted a peek at me and glanced away again. I touched his hand and felt him relax a bit. "Hey, look at me." I said gently. He turned his eyes to me again and we held eye contact this time. His body relaxed a little more and he almost smiled.

"See, I'm good." I flicked on the monitor on the table next to me. "Alex is fine." He was sleeping like a log in his crib, chubby cheek down on the mattress, knees drawn under him and his little bottom up in the air.

It was a long time since I did my psych rotation in nursing school, but I did remember about how we were taught never to tell a patient suffering with extreme anxiety that they had nothing to worry about. There was no doubt in my mind that he was coming down from a mild panic attack, so I tried another soothing method.

"Do you know how they tell you never to put a sleeping infant on their belly now?" He nodded hesitantly. "When I first brought him home." I said nodding toward the screen. "I'd put him on his back, and he was the biggest fusspot. He would wriggle and whimper all night. I'd spend hours in that rocker, holding him and sleeping. One morning I woke in my bed realizing that he had slept through the night. I panicked! I flew into his room and there he was on his belly, butt up, fast asleep. He was a few months old by then and had already figured out how to roll over, you see. I spent a month getting up every few hours checking on him. It took me a while, but I finally realized that despite my medical knowledge and his doctor's warnings, Alex was having none of it. He was a belly sleeper and that was the end of it. I took the bumper off his crib so he wouldn't smother himself and left him to it. I try to imagine him sleeping like that, with his butt up, when he's grown and it never fails to crack me up." I'd been watching Carlos through my monologue, my story taking his mind off whatever was causing him pain. He was smiling with me by the end, infinitely more relaxed than when he first walked in my door.

"Better now?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm sorry that I keep needing you to pull me out of these…episodes." He said, blowing out a big gust of air.

"Hey! I asked you to come to me didn't I? Do you want to tell me what happened now?" He sighed deeply and leaned forwards, elbows on his legs, hands dangling loose. "It helped last time right?" I wheedled. He nodded and took a fortifying breath.

"I was back in that burning building again. I was the only one left in there. I could hear screaming coming from a room off the corridor. I turned the corner and…um…you were there. Huddled against the side of the bed," Oh god! "Dirty and terrified. You couldn't move because they had cuffed you to that disgusting bed and I couldn't get close to you. It was like a glass wall was in the way and no matter what, I couldn't get past it." I shivered involuntarily. His breathing had picked up and I could see that a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his shoulders, neck and face. I reached over and smoothed my hand down his arm and he calmed slightly. He was trembling, so I got up and sat next to him slinging one arm around his shoulders. "I woke up as the fire spread to the bed you were on, but your screaming…it was so fucking real. Rationally I knew you were safe and warm, asleep, but I couldn't seem to stop myself from driving straight here and seeing for myself." I couldn't understand why his brain was torturing him this way.

"What can I do for you? You're shaking like crazy. I want to help you, but I'm scared I'll do something wrong."

"You're already doing it." He said touching my hand resting on his shoulder. He leaned forward again and I started scratching his back gently. I remember my mom doing this when I was young and had a bad dream. It never failed to make everything better. His shaking gradually subsided as he sat there quietly, letting me help him. My usual patients were children, but I hated seeing anybody, young or old, suffer. Especially this type of pain, the kind that only manifests on the inside. I had a clear view of his scar from my vantage point and I couldn't help but run my fingers over it again. It was about the size of my hand. The oddly bubbled tissue the only thing marring his otherwise perfectly smooth skin. I pulled my hand quickly away realizing that I was caressing him just to feel him more than to bring him comfort.

Oh good, here comes that guilt train again.

I jumped up abruptly, breaking the comfortable, drowsy silence we'd fallen into.

"Um…some more cocoa?"

"No, I should get going." He said sleepily. I didn't realize how close I was to him until he stood and stretched, his arms brushing against me as he did it. I felt heat flood my cheeks and I abruptly backed up a step and stumbled on the leg of the coffee table. He caught me around my shoulders and steadied me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just…" I swallowed hard. "A bit clumsy." If I could slap myself right now I would. Here, this poor man needs help and comfort and I'm getting all…flustered touching him.

"Thank-you for not being pissed I woke you up." He said looking apologetic.

"I...uh…" Get it together Stephanie! "I meant it when I said anytime. How far is your house? You look too tired to drive."

"I'll be okay, it's only five minutes from here." He looked down for a second. "Am I still invited for dinner tonight?"

"Of course! Alex is looking forward to it." I said with a smile. My little guy was a weapon of mass happiness when unleashed and I think he could do some good with this Marine. "Can you do one thing for me though?" His gaze snapped back to me anxiously. "Text me when you get home? I'll worry you fell asleep driving otherwise." He relaxed visibly and even smiled a bit. His whole face brightened when he did that. I wasn't going to ask him to call the doctor again. He'd do it when he was ready, if he hadn't yet, I was willing to bet that he would as soon as the office opened today.

"Yeah, I can do that." We walked to the door and I slid off his jacket to hand back to him. He threw it on and looked down at me.

"Thank-you for being so kind. I can't tell you what it means to be able to go to someone when I'm feeling like this. Your friendship…it means a lot to me."

"Anytime, okay?" He nodded, but didn't turn to go yet.

Was he waiting for a hug?

I moved closer and put my arms around his neck drawing him to me, his arms immediately wrapping around my waist. The cold in the hallway making me shiver, he pulled me in closer, resting his chin on top of my head and rubbing his hands up and down my back to warm me. I had to close my eyes against the heat that flared inside me, though a different type of heat than he was trying to create. When I hugged him before he left the other day I'd felt something similar, but much less intense.

"Well, drive safe. Let me know when you get home. I'll see you at 5:30?" I said backing away.

"I'll be here. Thank-you…for everything." He looked so sincere that all I wanted to do was hug him again, but decided against it lest I do something to embarrass myself.

"That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right." He turned and pulled open the door, glancing back at me one more time. I waved as he pulled it shut behind me and I collapsed on the bottom stair. I had to dig the heels of my hands into my eyes to not bawl my eyes out right there. This whole situation just became exponentially more fucked up.

Who wouldn't notice him in their kitchen in a tight, white, undershirt/tank-top/beater (whatever you want it call it)? Sexy bastard!

What would you do if he knocked on your door in the middle of the night wanting to check on your well-being?