"Nines! Nines! Wake up! Phck, wake up!" Nines rolled, holding himself over the edge of the bed as he threw up. "Phck! It's okay-it's okay…" His throat burned as he sobbed and choked bile down his chin. He wasn't kneeling in the mud of the trenches anymore. The putrid smell of rot had lifted. He couldn't see. The room was still dark, and his eyes were wet with tears, but he was pretty sure he was inside somewhere. It was warm, and the surface beneath his body was firm, but giving, far more comfortable than his small cot in the resting camp. His skin felt sticky with sweat, and his legs were trapped. He panicked a little before realising the thick material coiled around his legs was a cotton sheet. "Hey, it's okay, I'm here…" Gavin drew back as Nines flinched at the light touch on his shoulder.

"Y-your leg…I-is it…" Nines didn't finish the question, so Gavin wasn't sure which answer he wanted to hear. He could say his leg was fine, but that wasn't necessarily true in the grand scheme of things. He had no idea what Nines had just seen or how awake he was. Was he awake enough to remember that he'd lost a leg? Is that what he'd dreamed about? He hesitated as he formed an answer, holding back from touching him lest he flinch again.

"Um…I mean, it's still gone, but it's alright. The stitches have healed and everything, see? Here, you can feel it." Nines shuddered in relief at the news. He allowed it as Gavin shuffled closer beneath the duvet and worked on untangling the sheets. Once they were free, he tossed them back and hooked his leg over Nines' thigh. Nines was hesitant to look at first, reaching down blindly and letting Gavin take his wrist to guide his fingers to the smooth skin at the base of his stump. He caressed it slowly, laying his palm flat and stroking over the scarred surface. He pulled his hand up and sighed in relief. It was clean. There was no blood. His skin was dry besides the lingering clamminess of his own sweat. "You had a bad dream?" He didn't even have to ask to know the answer. Nines nodded as he flopped down on his front, still hanging over the edge as his stomach churned. "You don't have to talk about it." Relief flooded Nines' chest at the reassurance.

He blinked as Gavin's bedside light turned on. It wasn't too bright, but it was a sudden change. He sighed softly, feeling much calmer with the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Unfortunately, the light also alerted him to the mess he'd made. He whined mournfully as he looked at the puddle of vomit spreading on the carpet. Some of it had gotten on the bedsheet, though it didn't seem enough to have tainted the mattress beneath.

"Hey-hey! It's okay…I got it…" Nines felt even worse as he heard Gavin shuffling around. There was the telltale thud of his prosthetic on the floor as he pulled it on and tied the laces. Nines felt his lips quiver as Gavin got to his feet with a tired groan and limped his way around the bed, using the mattress for support. "Don't worry about it, alright?" he soothed as he leaned down to run a hand through Nines' damp locks. He was soaked with sweat. Must have been one phcked up dream he was having…"You want to take a bath?" Nines sniffled quietly, almost feeling sick again as the taste of vomit lingered in his throat.

Gavin supported his arm as he sat up looking like a chastised child. He didn't apologise, but Gavin didn't give him room to. He murmured gentle assurances all the way to the bathroom, where he plugged and started the bath before grabbing a small towel to clean the floor. Nines climbed over the edge of the tub and sat in the bath trembling. He wasn't cold, but he couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't stop thinking about Connor and Sixty. Holding Connor as he bled out in his arms. Catching Sixty's body as he fell. The blood from Connor's back. The hole in Sixty's forehead.

Gavin quietly came and went a couple of times to rinse the cloth in the sink. Nines shut the water off and sat quietly, listening to the thuds and shuffles coming from the bedroom. He guessed Gavin was stripping the bed. It would make sense. There was vomit on the bottom sheet, and the duvet was probably damp with sweat. Nines couldn't help feeling bad. Gavin shouldn't have to do those things. He was still in recovery. Nines was the one who'd made the mess. He should be the one cleaning it up. He looked up as the door opened and Gavin walked in, using his cane for balance.

"Hey, I'm going to have someone change the sheets and get some breakfast…Will you be alright until I come back?" Nines nodded. He could handle being alone for a few minutes. It wasn't like Gavin was leaving the house. He was just going downstairs. Nines closed his eyes as Gavin leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Alright…I'll be back soon." Nines nodded again and watched as he left before sliding back in the tub with a guilty sigh. Gavin was probably right about it not being his fault. He couldn't control what happened in his dreams, or his body's reaction to it. I could have cleaned up after myself though…He may only have one hand, but he could still do it. He sighed again. Moping wouldn't help. It wouldn't bring his brothers back, either. His chest ached at the thought. He still couldn't believe he wouldn't see them again. He may not even see their bodies. Connor would probably be hurriedly buried somewhere in France, while Sixty's body could remain lost for eternity.

He tried to push those thoughts away as he washed himself. The heat of the water was comforting, and it was good to get the sticky sweat off his skin. Once he was clean, he climbed out and wrapped a towel around his waist, brushing his teeth and gargling until the taste of vomit had been chased away. He was just finishing up as the bedroom door clicked to signal Gavin's return. He'd turned on the main light. Apparently, he didn't expect to sleep again. Nines wasn't surprised. They were both light sleepers. A side-effect of their time on the front. It was rare to fall asleep again once disturbed. After that nightmare, I don't think I'll sleep for a week…

"Feeling better?" Not exactly…but he nodded anyway. Gavin seemed to understand. Of course he did. He'd been on the front and seen the horror. He'd lost people. His whole life had changed. He'd seen others lose people. He understood how raw those feelings could be. "One of the maids is coming up to make up the bed, and our breakfast will be ready within the hour." Nines nodded gratefully. He wasn't exactly hungry, but he had just emptied his stomach.

Nines remained quiet for the rest of the morning. Looking at the clock, he knew it was just after four when he left the bathroom. Within a few hours, they could hear birdsong, and the sky was brightening in the distance. They'd already eaten by then, and the bed had been remade. Since it was too early to do anything else, they'd returned to lie on the bed. Nines was grateful that Gavin seemed content to remain silent. They were both on their backs, either looking up at the ceiling or out the window at the brightening sky.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the last morning they spent like that. Nines woke up almost every night. He didn't usually throw up or feel sick, but he always woke in a cold sweat, sobbing for Gavin or his brothers. He started sleeping later, trying to avoid it altogether. Gavin was worried enough to talk to Elijah and Chloe about it. He still gave Nines massages and barely left his side, but it felt like the problem was getting worse. It seemed pretty unanimous that it was trauma. Elijah was putting it down as shell shock, even though the blow hadn't come from the trenches directly.

"Alright, lay your hand down here like before." Nines followed Elijah's instructions as the splint was removed. He couldn't help feeling anxious. If the bone had healed enough, he'd be free of the splint from that day onwards. Once he was free of the splint, it would only be a matter of time before his recall papers came through. He'd have to go back. He didn't know exactly where he'd be sent since they'd fallen back, but he'd have to go somewhere. Somewhere without Gavin. Without his brothers. What about Markus, Simon, North, and Josh? Were they still together? Would he return to them?

Nines was still contemplating it by the time Elijah finished the x-ray and returned with the print. Nines waited anxiously as he examined it, brow creased as he focused on the faded white of the mended bones. Elijah hummed, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. Nines looked over his shoulder, following the faint outline of his bones. He could see each little finger joint and the longer bones of his forearms. He counted the smaller bones of his wrist and dragged his eyes over where he thought the break had been before. It seemed Elijah also needed to check. After a while, he slapped down the older image, where the break was clearly visible.

"It looks like the bone is healing nicely…You don't have to wear the splint anymore, but I'm still limiting your physical activity for at least three weeks. I don't want the added strain to weaken the bone." That sounded like a reasonable precaution. It would also delay his return date. He couldn't head back to the front until he had the all-clear from his doctor, and currently, Elijah was his doctor. Elijah seemed hesitant as he shut off the backlit screen and took a seat, fiddling with the stiff leather splint. "Gavin tells be you've been having some…difficulties." Nines frowned a little. He hadn't expected him to do that. "He was right to do so. As your physician, I need to know about it in order to diagnose the underlying issues."

That didn't sound promising. He didn't like the sound of underlying issues at all. It wasn't like he was sick; he was just having nightmares and sleeping a little less. He was quite sure Gavin was blowing things out of proportion. Elijah's lips thinned a little, as if he understood what he was thinking. Maybe he did. He knew a lot of the resident patients suffered night terrors and such, especially during storms. Even Gavin had suffered since his return. I'm different though. He hadn't suffered a grievous injury or trauma on the front. He'd been relatively lucky in comparison to others. The nightmares hadn't started until news of his brothers arrived.

"I don't need you to tell me the exact details of the dreams, but I do need to know a few things." Nines stiffened as Elijah began, holding a pad and pen ready like some sort of psychiatrist. Nines was glad he didn't need the exact details at least. He hadn't even told Gavin about the things he'd seen, though he was sure he could guess. "Would you say that the dreams you experience could be described as a night terror?" That was a little difficult to answer. He was scared, of course. He woke up in a cold sweat. What he saw wasn't always reflective of reality. Impossible things would happen, such as Sixty still being alive after taking a bullet to the head. Some of them were also gritty and realistic though, playing like memories he'd never made.

"I suppose so…" Night terrors were terrible nightmares that caused a visceral reaction. He'd certainly suffered. He tried his best not to fall asleep at all some nights. Unfortunately, Gavin's gentle massages and warm embraces were hard to resist. He occasionally vomited from the stress and horror of what he saw, though that was becoming less common. Recently, it had been mostly sweat and tears. Elijah nodded his satisfaction as he jotted down a note and moved on to the next question.

"When would you say they began? Was there a defining event you believe prompted them?" Nines' jaw tightened at that. He couldn't deny that it was linked to his brothers' deaths. They may not have started at exactly the same time, but it was too close to be a simple coincidence. He was sure Elijah had worked it out, too.

"They started shortly after news arrived of my brothers' deaths." He didn't bother to say that only one was confirmed. Elijah knew that already, and they both knew the likelihood of Sixty's survival. The next question took him off guard.

"What is the content of these dreams? You don't need to tell me the exact details. Just the general theme." Nines balked at the thought of saying anything. "Are they related to your time on the front?" He could at least confirm that. Elijah jotted a note before pressing on. "Do they involve your brothers?" Another nod. "Gavin?" Another nod. "Any other men you knew or were close to?" Nines nodded, though those other men never played a large role. They were background characters to the horror. "Are they rooted in reality?"

"More or less." Reality was more complicated than it seemed. The setting was real. The deaths and injuries were real. It was just that sometimes impossible things would happen. People would still walk around with fatal injuries as if nothing had happened. Dead men would come back to life. The setting would sometimes flip and change, moving to America or England. The past would mix with the present, and the present would merge with the future.

"What are the physical effects? Gavin tells me you've been sick on occasion." That was true enough, though it was less regular than it had been, and he often had time to run to the bathroom first these days.

"Less than before…"

"Do you feel scared?" What sort of question was that? He was stuck halfway through admission and denial. He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't afraid of the front or the dreams themselves. During the dreams was another story. Experiencing those horrors in real-time made him quiver with fear. His heart would race. His skin would sweat, and he'd wake with a sob or scream on his lips.

"Within the dreams, yes…Logically, I know what I see can't hurt me, but I can't control that while I'm asleep." Elijah jotted another note without judgement. It was a common response with his patients. No one wanted to be labelled a coward. He knew Nines also wouldn't want to be seen as avoiding his duty. Reluctant as he may be to return, he'd never say it out loud or actively try to avoid it.

"And outside of them? I know you've been avoiding sleep…" Nines scowled at that. Goddamn it, Gavin! Was nothing private? Elijah gave him a knowing look, lips curling at the corners. Nines sighed as he reminded himself Gavin had only spoken up for his own good.

"I am…reluctant to put myself in the position of experiencing those things again." Elijah could read between the lines and pick up on the fact that he was afraid. He'd never experienced the front himself, but he imagined it must be quite traumatic. He had stress induced nightmares occasionally; about the men he'd helped and the things he'd seen. They were nothing compared to what his patients suffered, but the war had touched everyone in different ways.

"Of course…On the nights that you do sleep, how much do you estimate that you're getting?" Nines had to think about that. It wasn't long, and it varied.

"Often between four and five hours…Sometimes more, sometimes less." Sometimes not at all…He couldn't help feeling bad that Gavin was suffering. He forced himself to remain awake for as long as possible on the nights he didn't sleep, and when he had nightmares, his cries would always wake him. Gavin would often be awake first, pulling him against his chest, hushing and holding him to stop his flailing.

"Alright…I'm going to prescribe you some barbiturates to help with the sleeping disorder." Nines was loath to take pills to solve his problems, but the draining fatigue was affecting his ability to function. His temper was shorter, though he could manage it. He was tired all the time. He felt weak and achy, and he suffered regular headaches. "I recommend you take them as and when needed. Never more than one per day." A wise precaution. He wouldn't want to develop a dependency.

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes…It's my belief that your current disorder could be described as shell shock. It's also my belief, as your physician, that you can no longer function in a military capacity on the frontline." Nines couldn't help being both surprised and suspicious. He wasn't eager to return, but he did feel a lingering sense of duty. Duty to protect and help. Duty to honour his brothers and ensure they hadn't died in vain.

"Is that your professional opinion, or are you exaggerating for the record?" Elijah's lips quirked, though he didn't let on if he'd been caught.

"Perhaps a bit of both. We both know I have a powerful incentive to keep you out of danger." Gavin would never get over it if he died. "But, from what you've told me, I'm inclined to believe that this is shell shock. I'll be writing to your superiors later on today to update them on the situation and request they draft your discharge papers." He couldn't believe it. He was really being signed off? For a few nightmares? Alright, they were bad enough that he needed a sleeping aid, but surely he'd get over them. I may get over them if I stay here, but what if I return to the front? Being back there, in a similar place, surrounded by death and destruction, he'd probably suffer a relapse. Who wouldn't? "This doesn't mean you can't still be useful…You're already doing me a favour in helping with Gavin's rehabilitation."

"I understand…Thank you, Elijah." He remained somewhat dazed as he returned to Gavin's room. He couldn't believe it. Was it really over? Was he really out of it? Am I letting my brothers down if I don't go back? It was out of his control. Elijah had made the decision. But I didn't exactly try to talk him out of it…He wasn't sure he could regret it though, especially as he opened the door to find Gavin sleeping peacefully with his face turned to the window, following the sun like a flower. Nines smiled as he crept over to the bed and climbed on beside him. Gavin looked exhausted. He probably was exhausted. He'd been forcing himself onto Nines' poor sleep schedule, trying to stay awake as long as possible.

Nines eyed the little vial in his hands. Should I take one now? It was barely afternoon. The sun was shining, and he didn't feel such a looming sense of foreboding in the daylight hours. He also felt drained, possibly enough to fall asleep without help. With that in mind, he set the little bottle on his bedside table and curled into Gavin's side instead. It seemed Gavin knew he was there on some level. He felt his arm coil around him as he nuzzled into his shoulder. Nines smiled, breathing Gavin's scent as he closed his eyes.