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Monty knows that he’s lucky. Despite everything that’s happened to him, he’s managed to make a life he’s proud of and he’s happy.
It’s easy to forget that happiness at night when the dreams come though. Some are easier to shake off than others; images of his father looming over him like a giant are abstract enough that he can detach himself from them. But when the dreams become indistinguishable from his memories, he feels like he can’t breathe, he can’t move- he feels trapped.
On those mornings, he tried to hide it. It was an extra cup of coffee when really his hands shook with the desire for brandy. It was being a bit too quick with a joke, his voice rising in pitch. It was kissing Percy when he asked what was wrong to distract him long enough to get through the day. Usually it worked, and he was able to bounce back. He was able to act like nothing was wrong.
Tonight, though, when he woke out of a nightmare, it was too early to wake for the day, but his mind was racing to hard to sleep. The room felt too cold and he sat up, drawing his knees into his chest, trying to make himself small. Maybe no one would notice-
“Monty?” came Percy’s sleepy voice. “Are you alright, love?”
“F-fine,” he answered. Maybe if he could keep his voice steady, Percy would go back to sleep-
Percy sat up. “You’re shaking.” He wrapped his arms around Monty’s shoulders, letting Monty relax against him.
“Just a bad dream.”
Percy nodded sympathetically. “Was it your father?”
Monty nodded, swallowing hard as Percy leaned in to kiss his forehead. “It just- it isn’t far. That I can’t get away from him, even now.”
“You can’t control your mind, Monty.”
“But, if I were stronger-”
“You’re plenty strong, darling. You stood up to the Navy, you’re here- you got shot, for goodness’ sake. You don’t have anything to prove, to anyone.”
Monty let Percy help him lay down, until Percy’s arms were around him, chest pressed against his back, legs tangling together and hands twined over Monty’s stomach. It was just like he had imagined all those months ago, the two of them fitting together like spoons, except this was better because Percy was real and warm next to him and Monty felt secure and safe in his arms. He fell asleep to the cadence of Percy’s breath against his neck. He would probably wake up to a mouthful of Percy’s hair, come loose in the night, but Monty had never been happier.