If You Must

All That We Are Is Awake

Simon

I'm in the middle of my usual nightmare (utterly paralysed, staring at the bloodied face of the Mage, who looks exactly as he did after I murdered him) when a soft sound drags me awake. Someone's whimpering-- Baz.

Opening my eyes, I rest a hand on his shoulder, curling myself over him.

"Baz," I whisper, giving him a gentle shake. "Wake up, love, it's just a nightmare." He doesn't wake up. The whimpers turn into nearly cohesive words, and his face is contorted in something akin to pain.

"Baz," I say, more urgently this time. With a short, wild shout, Baz sits bolt upright. I barely pull my head out of the way in time, and I can feel the air move as he shoots awake.

A sheen of sweat glistens on his skin. Those leanly muscled shoulders rise and fall with his too-quick breaths. Black overtakes nearly all of the grey in his eyes. His white, shaking hands grip the sheets like a vice.

"Baz!" I cry out, reaching for him. Panic and worry swirl sickeningly in my gut. Before I can touch him, he leans over the side of the bed, body contorting and twisting as he violently dry-heaves over the side. The hyperventilating breaths turn into heavy sobs. Quickly, I scramble across the bed until I'm perched by his side, one hand rubbing his back, the other holding back his hair in case he's actually sick.

"Hey. Hey. You're okay, you're okay. I'm right here, I've got you. No one can hurt you now," I murmur.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," He's repeating between laboured breaths. The heaving is slowly subsiding, leaving him pale and shuddering with sobs beneath my hands.

"You've nothing to be sorry for, Baz. Just breathe, you're gonna be okay... I've got you." Gently, I pull him against my chest, stroking his hair.

"I've got you," I repeat. Baz just buries his head in the crook of my neck, his tears cold and wet against my skin.

I hold him like this for I don't know how long, just slowly pulling my fingers through his night-soft hair. After a while, his tears gradually fade, leaving only the occasional hiccup.

"Do you need anything?" I ask, once he's settled down. Black hair tickles my chin as he shakes his head.

"No... just... just hold me a little while longer." There's a tremble in Baz's voice that breaks my heart.

"Of course."

We fall asleep like this, cradled against each other.

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A/N:

I'm wearing my 'Carry On' shirt and a cardigan while writing Simon Snow fan fiction and drinking tea, and it's making me feel ridiculously Cath-ish.