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It wasn’t unusual for Chrom’s sleep to be disrupted by a scream- a sad thing to allow to be a normal, day-to-day thing. But he supposed it was well justified.
The tactician suffered from nightmares; each dream tended to vary in how traumatizing it was, but Chrom could tell when his dreams were of such a nature. Robin would tremble weakly in his sleep, hands clenching and unclenching around nothing but air, his face would contort into a pained expression. It was unlikely that he would get vocal, but they’ve gotten bad enough to rouse Chrom from his sleep.
This was one of the bad nights.
An almost inhumanely terrified scream woke him, blue eyes shooting open in panic. Chrom turned to his side, and Robin was shrieking- it was uncommon the boy was so physical, and it absolutely pained Chrom to watch such a distressing scene. Immediately, he brings his hands to Robin’s shoulders, shaking them frantically, but his attempts seemed to no avail. Looking around the room frantically, Chrom tries to find something, some sort of way to get him out of this, to help him, to-
“Get out of my head!” Robin screamed out, suddenly, his entire body jerking upwards at the last word. Chrom turns around, his eyes wide, now adjusted to the dark of their room. He could see Robin, gasping for air, a hand pressed to his forehead. He didn’t seem to acknowledge the prince was there, and he stays silent for just a moment, before his hands rush to his face, a trembling sigh escaping his lips.
“Robin?” Gently, Chrom speaks, courteous of how sensitive the boy might be after something so shaking. Robin doesn’t speak, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. Moving towards him slowly, Chrom holds his hand out to the smaller boy, sitting adjacent to him.
It takes a few moments for Robin to shakily inhale, his hands slowly falling to his sides. Immediately, his eyes meet with Chrom’s; a tired, dull red boring into Chrom’s brilliant blue eyes. Quietly, Robin scoots closer to Chrom, wrapping his arms hazily around him before muttering softly, as if nothing happened prior, “I’m sorry, Chrom.”
An apology comes as a shock to Chrom, and looking down to Robin, he draws a delicate hand through the boy’s soft, white hair, “You have nothing to apologize for, Robin.” Robin grumbles weakly- and not unreasonably, he must be extremely exhausted- before tightening his grip around Chrom. He seems too tired to speak, and Chrom doesn’t blame him- words fail him as well. His nightmares always seemed violent, judging on his unconscious reactions, but Chrom would never poke at it too much. Enjoying the moment of serene peace, Robin's voice breaks through the silence; delicate, but completely audible over the chirping of the crickets outside their tent.
"I keep waking you up, Chrom, every night, " Robin looks up to Chrom, his eyes even more dull then they were prior, but his face was twisted in genuine curiosity, "doesn't that upset you? I would assume it would, at least a little." Inquisitively, Chrom tilts his head, looking down at the curious- maybe even guilty- Robin.
"It's really not that bad, Robin. I just feel bad that I can't do anything to help them go away." Robin smiles softly, nuzzling his head against Chrom's chest in a clear sign of appreciation. He's clearly less shaken over the dream now, his breathing a normal rate, slumping a little more tiredly against Chrom. "Thank you, Chrom."
"Don't worry about it." Finally, Chrom flashes Robin a gentle smile, leaning the white-haired boy gently atop the pillow. Kissing his forehead, Chrom leans him down gently, tucking him into the white linen sheets. Lovingly, Robin sighs, holding his hand out to Chrom. "I love you, Chrom."
It seemed that Robin fell asleep immediately after that, the reaction drawn from his night terror wearing him out, but it was still worth saying. The blue-haired man gently slides into bed, facing Robin as he closed his eyes.
"I love you too."