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Ron wakes with a start when Eugene cries out suddenly. He turns to find the smaller man thrashing around the bed, desperately trying to throw the off sheets but only succeeding in wrapping them more tightly around himself.
“Eugene, you're okay,” Ron says, reaching across the bed to pull Eugene towards him. He's warm, drenched in sweat and Ron immediately recognises that, in his head at least, Eugene is back in Afghanistan. It might only be in his head, it might only be for a few moments; but Ron knows that, for Eugene, those few moments are real and terrifying.
“Eugene, I've got you. You're safe,” he keeps his voice deliberately low and soft. Ron has got used to Eugene's nightmares over the last six months. He's got used to being woken in the night by Eugene’s shouts and yells. Or sometimes, waking to an empty bed when dreams prevent Eugene from sleeping at all. He hasn’t got used to feeling helpless; and somehow, tonight’s dream seems worse than any other night.
“Come on, turn over for me. On your back.” Ron sits up and coaxes Eugene to roll on to his back. He leans over the man, bracing his weight on one arm and runs his free hand through the man’s sweat-soaked hair, pushing it back from where it sticks in thick clumps to his forehead. He’s shaking violently; and he's hot, too hot. His breathing is far too fast and too shallow. “Come on, Eugene, slow down. I need you to breathe with me.” He uses the barest hint of his officer voice this time, knowing the deeply ingrained instinct to follow orders will cause Eugene to comply.
Eugene grips Ron’s forearm, looking up at him with terrified eyes, wet with tears, pupils blown wide. Ron holds his gaze and continues breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth; encouraging Eugene to match his breathing. Even through the gasping breathes, interrupted with sobs that shake his entire body, Ron can see that Eugene is slowly coming back to himself.
Ron continues to murmur nonsense in soft, soothing tones and feels strangely gratified when Eugene’s breathing falls into sync with his own. Although Ron would give anything for Eugene not to suffer like this, he likes that he is the one Eugene trusts in these moments. He knows he is one of the few people Eugene talked to about the things that haunt him from his time in Afghanistan; and he is one of even fewer people - maybe the only person in the last six months - who has seen him like this.
“You okay?” Ron asks softly, kissing him lightly on the cheek when Eugene has calmed enough to know where and when he is. Ron brushes a hand through his damp hair again, follows the curve of his eyebrow with his fingers, down his cheek and along his jawline.
Eugene nods, “yeah,” he says, voice wrecked and sounding so small and vulnerable that Ron wants to wrap him tightly in his arms. Eugene tries to move out from under Ron, but Ron stays braced above Eugene and prevents him from moving away. Eugene may trust Ron with his worst moments, with his most terrifying experiences, but those moments are almost always followed with shame and embarrassment for being ‘weak’ , as Eugene had once termed it. And quite honestly, Ron thought that broke his heart more than having to watch Eugene suffer and being powerless to do anything about it.
“Get in,” Ron says, fixing the sheets and helping Eugene sit back against the pillows. Ron tucks the sheets and blanket up around him and presses a kiss to his lips. He reaches over to his own side of the bed for a glass of water. The first night Eugene had woken up from dream, heart racing and utterly disorientated, he had been reluctant to even let Ron leave the bedroom to get him something to drink. Every night since, Ron makes sure to bring a glass of water when they go to bed. He sits cross-legged on the bed and hands the glass to Eugene. Eugene takes it in his still shaking hands and Ron doesn’t let go entirely.
“Good,” he murmurs, as Eugene sips at the water. When Eugene hands the glass back to him, Ron slides into bed beside him; propping himself up against the pillows and pulling Eugene close. He runs his hands up and down Eugene’s arms and shoulders; soothing his still trembling body.
“You wanna tell me about it?” he asks. Beside him, Eugene shakes his head.
That’s new , he thinks to himself. Not since the earliest days of their relationship has Eugene kept his nightmares from Ron.
“Why not?” Ron whispers against the shell of Eugene’s ear, smiling to himself at the shiver it elicits from Eugene. When Eugene doesn't answer, Ron knows not to push him. He knows Eugene will talk to him when he's ready.
“Come here,” he says instead, shuffling down the bed so he is lying on his back instead of sitting upright. He pulls Eugene along with him until Eugene is tucked close against his chest. Ron wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly even as he can feel Eugene is still trembling all over, his heart still racing.
“Do you think you can sleep?” Ron asks some time later when he feels Eugene’s heart rate slow and his trembling subside.
“Yeah, I'll be fine,” he replies quietly and entirely unconvincingly, tilting his head up to kiss Ron gently on the lips, “don’t worry about me.”
“Can’t help but be worried about you,” Ron replies, as he ducks his head to return Eugene’s kiss.
“I'll be fine, Ron,” Eugene says with a soft sigh.
Ron doesn’t miss Eugene’s use of the future tense twice in a row. He knows Eugene Roe is not fine right now.