The Enderman woke up uneasy, and hardly had time to get his bearings before he realised Tubbo was awake too. The humanoid was blinking his eyes half-open, hair going every which way, woolly ears drooped and twitching sleepily. "Ranboo?" he groaned. Ranboo must have stirred him somehow. "You alright?"
"Y-yeah. Yeah," Ranboo answered, unsure of himself, still figuring out how to put together words. Still figuring out how to look Tubbo in the eye; the images were fading already, but they hadn't entirely gone away since the first time they'd had that particular dream. "I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry."
"You had a nightmare?" Tubbo guessed, rubbing his eyes, shaking the sleep out of his voice.
"Yeah," Ranboo said again, softly. He stayed where he was, laying on his stomach with his arms folded, almost hugging himself. Tubbo would reach out to them and comfort them, he always did, but they weren't sure they could touch him right now. They needed to be assured it was okay and that it was what he wanted.
They waited until Tubbo put one arm around them and pressed his body against theirs, murmuring into their shoulder. "Ah. That's okay, then."
Ranboo sighed a held breath and let himself melt into his husband's warmth, the painful tightness in their chest relaxing a little. He could at least be grateful he'd been desensitised to the panic those nightmares used to give him; they made him sad now more than anything, and uncomfortable. The tight chest, pit in his stomach, the cold crawling all over his body.
"It was the one with you," Ranboo croaked, pressing himself close to his partner.
"Oh," Tubbo said with a knowing sadness in his tone. Ranboo couldn't have said which of his recurring dreams was the worst, but the one about Tubbo hurt in a way the others didn't. The person he loved and depended on most in the world — talking about him like he'd been talked about his whole life for looking weird and being a hybrid.
"You okay?" Tubbo drew back to be face-to-face with them. Ranboo nodded. "I mean, as okay as I ever am after these."
"Mmm." Tubbo leant on them and rubbed their back reassuringly. "I love you, okay? None of it's true, what I say in the nightmares, it's bullshit."
Ranboo laughed slightly, burying his face. Tubbo smiled at them, his sweet old face crinkling all over. "And I think you're pretty," the man continued, resting his head on top of theirs.
"Thank you," Ranboo said softly.
"No problem," said Tubbo. He lifted their face to kiss their forehead. "You're my husband, alright? You're my favourite."
Tubbo lay with Ranboo and kept them company, periodically whispering sweet things or checking up on him. The physical symptoms his trauma gave him subsided, and they were able to even out their breathing and mostly calm down. Ranboo and Tubbo settled into bed, Tubbo tucking them in and kissing them, and continuing to comfort them every now and then. Ranboo got a little closer to sleep every time. Tubbo was clearly drifting off too, eyelids heavy over his blue eyes — they'd find a way to thank him tomorrow.