Only If For a Night(MxM)

Nightmare

Jet didn't know what woke him first, the crash from Zuko's room or the yelling.

He sailed over the couch; poor Longshot getting flung somewhere in the struggle. Bare feet pounding into the hardwood, he sprinted down the hallway.

Zuko was in his bed, lamp on the floor, shade askew. As his eyes frantically swept the room, Jet saw that the room was empty.

Zuko thrashed on the bed, limbs flailing and face twisted in horror at whatever he was dreaming about.

Iroh's words from earlier in the week stabbed at his heart. They weren't just faceless assailants in his dream; they were real people who hurt him. Burned him.

Smellerbee stood at the end of the bed, hackles raised as she watched him wrestle with himself. She whined softly at Jet, who didn't know what to do.

" GET OFF OF ME," Zuko snarled, his head narrowly missing the wall as he careened backward.

His Abuela had told him never to wake anyone who was dreaming or sleepwalking because their soul might get lost on the other side, and for two solid seconds, he was just scared enough to believe it.

" Jet, get them off me," He snapped, eyes scrunched shut, dreaming. That was all it took for Jet to take hold of his shoulders and try to wake him up. He was neglecting his duty as a bodyguard. He was calling him out by name, to come and help him.

"Zuko, wake up," Jet said firmly, ducking his head under the fist Zuko threw at him. 'It's a dream, kid. Wake up; you're safe, hey, wake up," The situation called for him to be as calm and level headed as he could be, but his heart was racing. He had broken up the occasional fights that Zuko had with himself, but he hadn't dealt with one this bad the entire time he had known him.

Zuko thrashed against him, elbowing him in the ribs and yelped through his clenched teeth. His eyes rolled in the back of his head.

"ZUKO," Jet yelled, having no choice but to pin him down. He startled awake like he had been slapped. His eyes were too wide to fit on his face as he stared up at Jet, who was still hovering above him, still pressing him solidly into the bed.

In defeat, his body collapsed back down, chest heaving.

After what he had seen what Zuko was capable of at the kung fu studio, Jet was lucky not to have a black eye.

I should probably let him go, Jet thought to himself, but Zuko had a death grip on his elbows that rivaled a chokehold in strength.

"You okay?" It was a stupid question, but he had to ask.

Zuko just stared up at him, eye wide, chest heaving.

"Scoot over," Jet grunted, letting go of him on to climb further on to the bed. It was a king-sized and covered in blankets that cost an unfathomable amount.

Zuko made no objection and made room for him. Smellerbee gave a quick inspection of Zuko to make sure he wasn't physically hurt, her blunt nose snuffling his face and chest before she gave him a maternal lick on the cheek.

Jet watched him tremble, practically rattle with the downdraft of adrenaline washing over him. He scrubbed his stubby nails over his arms as he scanned the room, paranoia living in every twitch and flick of his eyes.

The simplistic, oversized clock on the wall told them it was three in the morning. The night terrors always seem to come at three. Jet hadn't been in the bedroom for any longer than it took to put in the security system in the windows. He hadn't taken the time to absorb anything other than the basic layout. Everything was white, gray, and black, the dressers, the closets, the doors, the furniture, the minimalist decoration.