Not a definitive timeframe. Just my what-if where Asami lashes out at Akihito and the aftermath he would feel.

AsamiXAki most likely OOC.

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He quivered. His Akihito had never quivered before, had never cried out in his dreams with that look of fear so clearly written in his features. Curled up as he was beside me, so close, but not touching. An emotion previously unknown threatened to rise up again and it took years of training to squelch it down. It was my fault he was like this. By my had he had -nearly- broke. Did this same hand have the right to show comfort, to mend what was broken inside?

The answer was not forthcoming.

I lean over and gently, gently shake him awake from the nightmare engulfing him. His eyes peek open and show such emtion when the land on my face. He loves me, says the adoration, but then the pain and doubt flicker across and I am left to remember the last few months of hell - for Akihito as well as myself.

"Hush." I wrapped my arms around him, noting the way he flinched and trembled, but saying nothing. Perhaps there will come a day when He will see my face without thinking of the pain. Perhaps... I should let him go

Previously that would have been inconceivable. What I claimed as mine, stayed my property forever. But my Akihito was somehow different and watching him wracked up with sobs and nightmares that were not some bastard who could be dealt with quietly and maliciously in a back alley, but problems he had inherited from my wrongdoings, my mistake.

"A-Asami?" He slurred. Half asleep now and peeking at me shyly through droopy eyed gaze. "Don't leave me," he breathed, clutching at my chest. "Don't you dare ever leave me." And with that he closed his eyes and drifted into a more peaceful slumber.

His expressions, reactions, undeserving loyalty to me... I stared long after his eyes closed and I realized I would never be able to give him up.

My hands itched for a cigar, but i knew the smell, the fragrance of a dunhill, would stricken Akihito in his dreams far worse than he could on his own. I had made that mistake before.

Yet he had still wanted me to stay with him. Yet he wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning, smiling at me hesitantly, putting a plate of food he had prepared just as I liked it. He doesn't realize the fierce hold he has over my heart. And despite it all, I want to keep it that way

He doesn't need to know that his nightmares are my nightmares. His love, my guilt.