Journey

Tarot - The Star


Sleep without Fear


Darkness, pain. Ice.

"Daniel! Daniel - love, please - !" John's voice, panicked in the darkness. John's hands, arms, body curled around him, trying to comfort him and pull him from the dream. He tried to latch onto that voice, that lifeline, anything to get away, to keep from being engulfed by the terror and humiliation. He tried to call for him, drawing a harsh, shuddering breath.

"John - !"

"I'm here, love. Come back to me. You're dreaming..."

"Remembering," he gasped, before he could stop himself, and he could feel tears on his cheeks, feel his body shaking with helpless sobs, shivering with the cold despite John's body against him.

"Love..." John's voice was almost helpless, soft kisses pressed to his hair, nuzzling his cheek, kissing away tears. "God, you're freezing," he murmured, pulling the heavy quilt more tightly around them, hands stroking over his skin gently, trying to warm him. Slowly he began to get control of his breath, the tears stopped, but he couldn't shake the terror, the shame, and curled back against John, knees pulled up to his chest, shivering.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper finally. "I didn't mean...."

"Shhhh..." John's voice is soft, gentle, a hand finding his, squeezing it gently. "It's all right... just relax, love."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, hardly audible. "I try so hard not to remember...."

He felt his lover shudder a little at his back, curl more tightly around him, protectively. “I couldn't wake you," he murmured, rich voice wavering a little. "I tried, love. I'm so sorry. You just kept gasping, begging for it to stop...."

Daniel closed his eyes with a little shudder, mind drawn back to the memories despite himself. He tried to focus on reality, his mind registering with faint relief that at least the torturous pleasure had been confined only to his subconscious, this time. He couldn't face the shame of also having to explain a wet dream to John, on top of everything else. "I'm sorry," he simply whispered again.

Then came the question, the words he'd been dreading. John's voice, a mix of rage and pity. "What the hell did they do to you?"

Daniel closed his eyes again, aching, letting out a long breath. "Anything they could do, anything to break me," he said finally, surprised at the rawness of his own voice. "And when that failed..." he stopped, choking on his words, bringing his hands up to cover his face as if to hide from it. “They turned my own body against me," he gasped, hardly audible. "Humiliated me...."

John's voice was helpless. "Love... I don't understand...."

Daniel shook his head very slightly, biting his bottom lip hard against the memories. "I can't -" he managed to whimper, fighting the darkness in his mind. "It's better... that you don't. No one should have to understand something like that."

John didn't answer, a touch, gentle, on his skin. Warm. Alive. Fingers slowly tracing the rough white lines on his skin. "The scars...?" he asked softly, helplessly.

Daniel shook his head, curling tighter into himself, fetal. "Scars you can't touch," he whispered. "And I can't... I can't fix myself. I can't stop it, John..."

"Come here," John said softly, leaning over him to gently, insistently pull his arms away from his chest, uncurl his body from the knot it had formed in terror. Pulling him into his arms, against the warmth of his skin. "I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever again. I promise you that." he whispered almost fiercely, and the strength and passion of his words somehow broke through the ice cold bands of terror around Daniel’s heart, who clung to him, tension breaking into helpless sobs.

"Shhh...." John murmured, kissing his forehead, tucking Daniel's head safely against his chest. His hands smoothed gently over his hair, his back, slow and comforting. Warmth seemed to emanate from them, calming his aching muscles, and he felt his body slowly relax, exhausted in the absence of the adrenaline that had pumped through his veins. His sobs died, breath calming, relaxing. Safe.

His skin was warm where John's hands had been, warm and tingling, a warmth that slowly moved through his body, leaving him relaxed and strangely without pain. Still, he didn't realize what John was doing, not until his lover's hand smoothed down onto his thigh, the warmth intensifying pleasantly, through his skin and muscle, down into the bone.

"John? What are you....?"

"Shhhh..." John breathed softly, carefully, his focus elsewhere. "Don't.... move....."

He opened his eyes to protest, but stopped, letting them fall closed again. Giving in to the sweet warmth, soothing, gently stretching and smoothing damaged muscles.

Healing.

“Why?” He asked softly, when John finally moved his hand.

The other man cupped his face gently, guiding it up to meet his gaze, intense even in the near darkness. “For love,” he said, softly. “My own selfish desire not to see you hurt. So if I can’t fix... if I can’t stop your nightmares, at least I can do this.”

He closed his eyes with a little shiver. “John....”

“Shhh....” Lips pressed to the corner of his damaged eye, gentle. “Just one more....”

And the warmth touched his skin gently, fixing his eyelids, fixing the scars on his face, the thin white line under his eye that They had made that day....

John’s fingers stroked his forehead, his hair. “I want you to rest,” he said softly, “Rest and let your mind and body heal. Sleep without fear. I won’t leave your side. Do you trust me?”

“Undoubtably, love. But I don’t think... sleep and I are meant to be....”

“Shhh,” John said again softly, kissing his forehead, and he felt a great calm overcome him, the wild flutters of fear left in the depths of his mind faltering, shutting down. And as oblivion took him, promising blissful silence with no dreams at all, he heard John whisper, “Sleep.”