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Nightmare
It's the shiver than runs down Heero's body that wakes him. Bleary-eyed, Heero tries to pull the blankets tighter around him, but they are missing. Sitting up, he glances to Duo's side of the bed. The other young man is curled into a ball, all of the blankets cocooning him. At first, Heero smiles fondly at the sight, but upon closer inspection, his smile falls.
Duo's massive hands are fisted in the duvet, the veins standing out on the backs of his hands and down his arms. His long body is scrunched into a tight ball that in no way could be comfortable. His eyebrows are pulled low on his face, knitting together in a look of pain. His jaw is clenched. Duo shifts roughly in his sleep, burying his face in his pillow. A muffled cry leaves him.
Instantly, Heero is on alert, shaking Duo's shoulder to wake him. "Duo," he whispers. No response. "Duo. Babe, please wake up. Please." Heero's voice raises a few pitches. Duo whimpers again into the pillow, pulling the blankets tighter around his frame. "Duo, please wake up," he tries one more time, giving Duo's shoulder a hard shake.
Duo shoots up in bed, his hands covering his face. "No, no, no," he mutters, shaking his head. His shoulders slump, shaking slightly.
"Duo," Heero whispers, laying a gentle hand on his back.
Duo jerks his head around to his bedmate, disbelief shining in his eyes. "Heero?" he says, almost as if he doesn't believe Heero's really there.
"Yes, Duo?" he replies, scooting closer to him on the bed. "The nightmare again?" To see Duo sleep through the whole night, nightmare-free, is a rarity. More often than not, it is the nightmare. In this hell of a nightmare, Duo relives the burning of his orphanage. Over and over and over. It will render him shaking and covered in a sheen of sweat, on a good night.
Duo runs his fingers through his hair, stopping halfway. "You're alive," he mutters, his eyes on the duvet. "It was all a dream," he puffs out, like he's trying to convince himself. "It was all a dream."
This is new. Heero scoots closer still, moving to sit in front of Duo. He cups Duo's face in his hands, raising amethyst eyes to meet indigo. "What are you talking about?" Heero asks quietly.
Without a response, Duo envelops Heero in his arms, burying his face in Heero's knotted bed head. "I love you. I love you so much," Duo says over and over. "I don't know what I would do without you." He strokes Heero's hair as he clutches him against his chest.
"I love you too, Duo." That's when the sensation registers in Heero's mind: his shoulder is wet. Duo is crying. "Duo?" he asks, worry evident in his tone. Screams? Yes the nightmares bring those on all the time. Fits of rage? Yes, those too. But tears? Heero hasn't ever seen this side effect.
Duo sniffles. "You died. You, the boys, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen, the other kids. Everyone died. I didn't know what I was going to do. I-I don't know what I would do. You're my everything." He squeezes Heero tighter.
Heero returns the embrace, fingering his braid in the manner that always soothes Duo. "Shh, shh," Heero murmurs. "I'm here. I'm never leaving, ever. I'm here."