The Sole Prince

You have nothing to worry about. [part 3]

James wakes up screaming, cold, shaking as he jolts up in bed. He doesn't know where he is, the location swaying back and forth between unknown and familiar like a palm tree in a hurricane, the dream still lingering in the cracks of his mind.

Sage wakes too, both to James' yell and the sudden loss of contact to his body. "James, what's wrong?" he says groggily, sitting up in bed next to the younger man, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Don't touch me," James screams, falling out of bed to escape the contact. The dream still lives on in his mind. Who knows? This might be one too.

"Hey, hey, alright," Sage replies, surprised, soft. It's the first time James hasn't wanted a hug, and that, along with the scream and the frantic movements, all suggest that something is wrong.

James hits the wood floor of the cabin hard, just like he had in his dream, but this time it feels more real. And there are a few beams of moonlight that shine into the cabin, illuminating the face of the man on the bed. The smaller man feels that he can breathe as he recognizes Sage looking at him with a face of concern, eyebrows and eyes and nose and small scars.

Waves take over his body, tears that James didn't even know where they're dripping out of his eyes. He collapses into a smaller version of himself, covering his eyes with the nooks of his elbows, tucking his chest into his legs. It's a powerful sob, building up for his whole life at this point. The culmination of many small things, a few large ones as well, that all amounted to breaking the camel's back. The droplet of water that overfilled the dam.

Sage doesn't quite know what to do. The crying man a few feet away sends pains through his heart. He wants nothing more than to take it away from him. "I..." is all Sage says, sitting up on the bed, looking over at James. The one word is able to get the smaller man to look up with tear-stained eyes, and nod to the unspoken question. Sage gets the message right away, hopping off the bed, running over to James, who goes back to his original crying position. The larger man positions himself behind James, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, holding him close. The younger man shakes in his grip, Sage desperately trying to calm him down, whispering many a quiet shh into James' scalp. "Sweetheart, it's okay. It was just a nightmare," Sage says, giving light kisses to the top of the younger man's head. It takes a while, the cycle of encouraging words and kisses repeating, until James is in a well enough position to talk, the sobs finally subsiding, only taking a residence in his shaky breath.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," James gets out before the cries sneak back into his throat, drying up his words before they can escape.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for," Sage says, somehow finding a way to tighten his hug even more. James' scattered breathing slowly becomes more controlled, Sage continuing with his whispered words of comfort. It's only when Sage knows for certain the smaller man feels safe in his arms, the older man continues to speak. "Do you want to talk about it?" Sage asks quietly, a warm whisper that lingers on James' skin.

"You were right," the younger man says after the silence lingers for a moment.

"Hm?" Sage asks, as James squirms out of the larger man's tight embrace, turning around on his spot of the floor to face him. Sage reacts smoothly as James finds a new seat in between Sage's now spread legs, placing a hand on each of the younger man's knees.

"A nightmare." James diverts his eyes, breaking the heat filled glare. Blush creeps onto his cheeks, embarrassed. It's such a childish thing. And it's stupid and irrelevant and fake. And now he threw himself out of the bed in response to one. Of course, he's embarrassed.

"I get them too," Sage says with a friendly smile, an attempt at comforting his love. "Well, got them before I started sleeping next to you. Part of the reason why I could never fall asleep." The older man says it so nonchalantly, it sends a wave of comfort through the younger man. This tough, twenty-eight-year-old pirate captain has nightmares, too. Just another way they are the same, it seems. "Did you want to talk about it?" Sage repeats, regaining James' eyes, once again locked into his.