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It wasn’t a rare occasion for Shiki to wake up screaming. Death did that to a person, and every time Shiki closed his eyes he was back there, on Drakken’s ship, bleeding out as all of his friends watched, helpless. Being strong was not enough. Being brave was not enough. He had died. But he was still here, in this bed. In these arms.
“It’s okay, Shiki. It’s okay.” Weisz brought Shiki’s head against his chest, placing his lips firmly on the sweat-slicked skin of Shiki’s forehead. “I’m here, and you’re okay. We’re okay.”
He was used to Shiki crying by now, but the way that the other man clung to him, like it was his last moment on Blue Garden, broke Weisz’ heart. He buried his head in Shiki’s hair and breathed him in, grateful to have the man he loved alive and in his arms.
“I was so alone.” Shiki sobbed, hands knotting in Weisz’ shirt, and the blond man winced, fighting back moisture which was building in his own eyes.
“You never have to be alone again.”
Shiki was special, a comet which had crashed into Weisz’ life and left a crater which could never be filled by anyone else. Not that he could ever want someone else, of course.
The sun had began to rise before Shiki stopped shaking, but Weisz didn’t let go even then, afraid that if he did they would both fall apart again.