Chapter Text
It takes Ethan some time to realize that the screaming is coming from him. It takes him another moment to come to the conclusion that he’s awake, upright in bed, sweating so much his clothes are drenched with it, and that his throat hurts something awful, which means he’s been screaming for a good while now.
A cool hand touches his arm and he jumps, heart beating so fast it feels like it’ll break through his ribs and jump out of his chest, but then he sees it’s only Will, and he forces himself to relax. “Hey,” murmurs Will, and his voice is calm and controlled, an ability that Ethan has never been so envious of as he is now. “It was just a dream.”
Those words, far from comforting, just fill him with a deep sense of dread, followed by embarrassment. He’s faced so much and he’s come out on top of it all, unflinching and unbroken, and yet some stupid nightmare that he can’t even fully recall has him screaming so much his throat hurts. “I know,” he tells Will, endeavoring to keep his voice from shaking. “I know. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Will replies, and his hand moves from Ethan’s arm to the back of his neck, squeezing it reassuringly. “I get it, okay? It’s okay. Do you want me to get you water or something?”
Ethan is really tempted to say yes, but his stomach jolts in protest at the idea, and he shakes his head. “No, thanks,” he says shortly. “I’m fine, Will.”
Even by the dim moonlight filtering through the gap in the curtains, Ethan can tell Will is not convinced. His eyes narrow minutely and his lips press into a thin line, but then his expression changes back to normal and he withdraws his hand. “Okay,” he says, sounding uncertain. “Okay. Just – tell me what you need.”
Ethan forces himself to smile. “I’m fine,” he repeats, his face hurting with the effort. He’s quite aware he probably looks demented, if the slightly alarmed look on Will’s face is anything to go by. “I’ll let you know if I need anything,” he promises, lying through his teeth. “Go back to sleep, Will.”
“And you…?” Will lets the question hang between them, looking at him expectantly. He moves his hand away from Ethan’s neck to hesitantly take his hand, and Ethan hates it, hates how unsure of himself Will is being where he’s normally so confident to do whatever he thinks is right. He hates that Will doesn’t know what to do, and is therefore walking on eggshells around him right now, so to speak.
“I’ll sleep, too,” he tells Will, forcing a smile again, lying again. He moves his hand subtly out of Will’s grasp, trying not to make it look like he doesn’t want to be touched, but Will looks a little hurt and Ethan knows he failed. Trying to smooth over the moment, he reaches out and puts his hand on the side of Will’s face, and says, “Thank you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Will repeats again, closing his eyes at Ethan’s touch. “You know I’m here for you. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Ethan says. He can’t come up with anything to add to that, so he just repeats, “Yeah.”
Will leans forward to kiss him lightly, before lying back down. “Sleep, Ethan. You need it.”
Ethan nods. “Yeah,” he says one more time, painfully aware of how dumb he sounds parroting the same word over and over. “I’ll just.” He indicates his sweat-soaked shirt as he gets out of bed. “Change. Don’t wait for me, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
Will looks at him, and there’s that minute narrowing of his eyes again, like he’s trying to read Ethan’s mind. The moonlight reflected off his face makes his eyes look so much bluer than they usually do, paints his skin an ethereal silver-blue, and the overall effect is that he doesn’t look… real. He looks like something out of a story, the hero who saves the day (ironic, seeing as that’s what he thinks Ethan is). He looks like something beautiful that only happens to good people, and suddenly Ethan feels a pervading sense of shame. He woke him up. He woke Will up for something as inconsequential as a nightmare.
“Ethan?”
He blinks, and comes back to the present to find Will looking at him with blatant worry on his face, no longer bothering to hide his distress at Ethan’s state. “Ethan, are you all right? Please, Ethan, I…” Will looks a little lost for words all of a sudden. He sits up again, running his hand through his hair and looking imploringly at Ethan. “Ethan—”
“I’m fine,” Ethan lies, and tries to smile again. “Or I will be, at any rate. Please don’t worry yourself on my behalf—”
“Don’t worry myself on your behalf…?” Will repeats incredulously. “Ethan, how can I not worry about you? You were screaming, you—” He stops abruptly, looking anguished, clearly at a loss for words.
Instead of answering Ethan rests one knee on the bed and leans forward to kiss Will, putting his hand on the back of Will’s head and trying to put everything he can’t say into the press of his lips on Will’s. “I’m going to be okay,” he tells Will, so fiercely he almost believes it himself. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to change my shirt, and I’ll be right back, I swear.”
Will nods, looking half-convinced, though the look of worry doesn’t leave his face. Ethan suspects it’s not going to, not for some time now, and he hates himself a little for putting it there. Will doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve the additional weight of Ethan’s issues on top of his own.
He very resolutely does not look at his face in the mirror in the bathroom, knowing all he’s going to find are dark shadows under his eyes and a pallor to his skin as well as worry lines and fatigue. He splashes cold water onto his face and then changes his shirt, dumping the old one in the laundry bin in the corner and padding softly back to bed, doing his best to ignore the flashes of the dream that woke him up, the insidious whispering in his ear that you deserve this, you have it coming, you asked for it because you failed, you were not good enough…
Will’s eyes are closed and his breathing steady. For all intents and purposes he looks fast asleep, and yet Ethan knows he isn’t. He’s shared a bed with Will for long enough to know when he’s really asleep and when he’s faking, and right now he’s faking. He’s waiting for Ethan to get into bed so that he can finally relax, assure himself that Ethan is all right for now and not going anywhere, not going to do anything stupid.
The warmth in Ethan’s heart is mixed with shame and self-loathing, tainting the way Will makes him feel like he’s someone to be looked after and protected. Will’s always seen him as a person instead of a Hero or a Savior, and that includes his flaws, and Ethan never ceases to be amazed by how Will loves him regardless, loves him despite knowing who he is down to the core. He is the first person in years who’s looked into Ethan’s soul and not flinched away from the darkness he’s found, not left him because Ethan’s issues were too much too handle or even made him feel like he was anything other than perfect. Again he thinks, I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this, I’m sorry, I am, you deserve better.
Instead of voicing any of this out loud – let Will maintain his façade of sleep (and also Will would kick his ass if he knew what Ethan was thinking) – Ethan leans in and presses his lips softly to Will’s brow, before getting under the covers next to him. He wraps an arm around Will and presses his face in his hair and hopes that it’s enough to chase away the nightmares for another night.
But he still sees the blood on his hands when he closes his eyes.