[Fic] breathe in until you can taste the thunder on your tongue (The Attic - A. M. Burrage)
- Fandom: The Attic - A. M. Burrage
- Pairing: Stanley Forbes/Derek Wilson
- Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Post-Canon,
- Word-Count: 1156
- Status: Complete
- First Published: 2024-09-04
- Disclaimer: I do not own The Attic - A. M. Burrage and make no profit from this—it is solely a hobby for fun, with no financial compensation.
Summary:
It never was, of course. But, still, it haunted him nevertheless. And so when Derek had asked for permission to stay with him for a while---he'd gotten a job in Forbes' city but had no yet found a place to stay---of course, Forbes had agreed.
Notes:
- For SweetSorcery.
Work Text:
The rain beat down upon the house like an avalanche; a perpetual downpour that drowned out all other noise but the heart thumping rapidly in the pit of his throat. Stanley Forbes blinked slowly as he awoke, his eyes flickering behind closed eyelids before they opened enough for him to discern the rest of the room, descended into darkness and trapped below the patter of rain on the roof, on the windows, on the brick and mortar of the building itself.
He remembered, of course, everything.
Derek Wilson was not a person that Forbes thought he should ever forget; the boy, man now, appeared in his dreams frequent enough for him to have quite gotten over that foolish hope. It was the hope of a scared man, truly, that ached to forget an altogether terrible eve, a terrible day, the image of small bones that haunted him still. And sometimes he even thought he had, and then he would see a tree twisted up in itself, or a fence that rose too high, or he'd turn his head and think he saw the Moat House before him.
It never was, of course. But, still, it haunted him nevertheless. And so when Derek had asked for permission to stay with him for a while---he'd gotten a job in Forbes' city but had no yet found a place to stay---of course, Forbes had agreed.
And then the storm came.
Forbes house was secure, naturally. He'd moved after the experience with the Moat House, seeking a place that should hold against the elements without looking quite so dreary. He was pleased with the resulting house he'd purchased; it was smaller than his previous one, but it felt less empty. Less like there was someone watching over his shoulder, one step behind at all times. Less like he could turn his head and there the beast would be, that dreadful thing that had almost stolen his breath.
Shivering, wakefulness found him despite the late hour, and Forbes dredged his heavy eyelids up once more, curling his arms around the body on top of him. It took him, despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, entirely too long to ascertain the issue with this; there should not, he thought, be a body lying on top of him.
But he could feel his heart beating and more than that, he could feel the heartbeat restlessly thumping in Derek's warm body upon him. Forbes held his breath, turning his head to gaze down and saw that yes, Derek lied atop him, his check resting over Forbes' heart. Blinking, Forbes tightened his grip on Derek; the young was still caught in the embrace of slumber, but it was an uneasy thing, rattling his whole body. His breath shook, and his eyes moved raggedly behind his eyelids, the lashes fluttering on every exhale.
It occurred to Forbes, then, that Derek was having a nightmare.
The storm raged outside the house, a particularly vicious beat of water striking the windows across the bed as Forbes rested his hand on Derek's cheek and ran his thump under his eyes. Dark circles sank beneath them, and his heart ached, his throat pained as he swallowed heavily. The weight of Derek's body was nevertheless a solid thing on him, and though he knew he ought to push him away, recreate the distance they had gone to bed with in the late eve when Derek sheepishly slunk into his bedroom if he could stay the night here with him, for the thunder rattled him something fierce, Forbes did not do so.
It had already hurt, falling asleep close enough to Derek to hear but not touch him.
He was a weak man, he supposed, for he did not think he could do it again.
A harsh puff of air escaped Derek's lips---parted in his sleep---then, and Forbes hummed softly. "Derek," he whispered, wondering if he should let the lad continue to sleep, but the twist of Derek's expression belayed any such worry. No, he thought. Forbes gently shook the young man, ran his hands through his hair and massaged his scalp. "You're dreaming," he whispered into the little space between them, and he could hear Derek's heartbeat as clear as day, could feel the pulsing under his trembling hands.
At last, Derek's eyelids flickered open, his body tensing. His distant gaze skipped over Forbes and when the lighting struck Forbes could see not a sliver of recognition in those eyes. "Oh," Forbes breathed, pulling Derek ever closer and resting his cheek on his head, the strands of Derek's hair soft on Forbes' skin. "You're dreaming," Forbes repeated softly, heart thumping in beat with Derek's frightened one.
"I don't-" Derek said hoarsely, and he turned his head, hiding it in Forbes' chest. "It's not-" he said, then, and his grip on Forbes' turned into clawing. A whimper departed from him, and he shook his head, his body soon following suit. Lightning struck once more, somewhere far away, and the brief flash of light allowed Forbes' to discern the redness of Derek's eyes.
Forbes shifted, and he grabbed hold of Derek's clenched hand. It was cold, the fingers like ice, and Forbes gulped, his brows furrowed. "Shh," he whispered, pulling Derek's grip away from his nightshirt and tangling their fingers instead. Squeezing, Forbes looked down at Derek's dazed eyes, the distance in it a terrifying sight, indeed. He could scarcely breathe, for the time it took Derek to look back at him.
To see him, in turn.
Once he did, Derek's terrored expression shifted into something softer, and he ducked his head and hid it, still. Forbes did not mention this; he held onto Derek's hand through the shivers and trembling, his own among them, until Derek fell back into an uneasy sleep.
Out of propriety, Forbes let go of Derek's hand, then. But Derek's expression grew harsh, his breathing unsteady, his eyelids flickering once more. Forbes could not bear to see it for a second, and hastily gripped Derek's hand tight again, turning on his side and drawing him as close as he could. He could feel Derek settling back into a kinder sort of sleep, and Forbes ducked his head, shut his eyes, and breathed.
He could still hear Derek's heartbeat.
It sang in his ears; a song all onto its own, and Forbes memorized it, wrote it down in his own. Derek was warm in his arms, and Forbes still remembered his nightmares; of finding bones in the Moat House---bones that could only belong to Derek.
But that, he assured himself as he held tight and refused the draw of sleep, was only a nightmare.
And while Derek slept, their hands still holding onto each other, Forbes drew in the comfort of their touch and drowned himself in it, until at last he thought he might be able to sleep without dreams, just this once.