Work Text:
Andrew was used to having nightmares. Well, as used to as person can possibly be. It still felt terrible. It made him feel like he was being suffocated and when he woke up, shaking and gasping for breath, it took him eternity to calm down.
So theoretically, this should be nothing new. It should be fine. Not good, but manageable. Not good, but familiar.
Sure, there are some familiar things even in the dream itself. The bed. Drake’s sly smile. Too much naked skin. Blood.
But what’s completely new and what catches Andrew by surprise is Aaron’s presence. Andrew rarely dreams about his twin and he certainly haven’t dreamt about him in this context yet.
But now the only thing he can do is watch. Watch how is his twin abused. Watch the only thing he swore he’ll prevent, still happening and not being able to do anything about it. He can’t move. He can’t scream. He wants to take one of his knives and stab Drake to death, but for some stupid reason he can’t fucking do anything.
He wakes up with his ears still filled with Aaron’s screams and practically jumps out of the bed. They are in Columbia and usually the sight of Neil, still peacefully sleeping beside him, calms him down, but not today. Today he needs to make sure Aaron is okay. He needs to make sure Aaron isn’t hurt.
Neil barely stirs as Andrew gets out of the bed and walks to the door. He’s used to Andrew wandering around at ass o’clock in the night.
Andrew crosses the hallway and stops in front of Aaron’s door. He knocks, but doesn’t wait for an actual response and walks inside.
Aaron’s half asleep, shuffling around the bed to look at the door and blinking at Andrew with confusion when he realizes it’s him. “What the fuck, Andrew?” He asks, his voice thick with sleep and yawns.
Andrew isn’t sure what to say. Aaron is okay. He’s not hurt. He’s safe. Everything is fine. Good. But for some reason he still walks to him and announces: “Move. I sleep at the wall.”
Aaron frowns and Andrew notices the pillow pattern on his cheek. But he’s tired and sleepy and clearly not in the mood to argue, so he complies and lets Andrew climb in the bed beside him and just mumbles: “Don’t hog the blanket,” before falling back asleep at once.
Andrew doesn’t sleep much himself. He looks up at the ceiling and listens to Aaron’s soft snores and tries to match their breathing to calm down. He finally drifts off towards the morning, but not for long, since Aaron wakes up, rolls over and hits Andrew in the face with his elbow.
“Fuck, what the hell?!” Aaron yells and immediately pulls away, clearly terrified Andrew’s going to return the accidental blow.
Andrew doesn’t. He wasn’t in such deep sleep to mistake his twin for some stranger. He just frowns at his idiotic brother and feels his cheek, wondering if it’ll leave a bruise. Hopefully not.
Aaron’s still staring at him in awe. “Don’t you have your own bed? I genuinely thought this was a dream! What are you doing here?”
Andrew sighs deeply but figures out he can as well tell Aaron the truth. “I had a nightmare.”
Aaron instantly freezes at the words. “Oh. Okay?”
Andrew doesn’t meet his eyes when he continues. “About you. And Drake.” He ignores the way the name gets stuck in his throat. “He was… I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop him.”
Aaron looks positively shocked now and just opens his mouth without any sound coming out.
“Well.” Andrew sits up, ignoring the way Aaron’s looking at him, mixture of sadness and pity. “I’m just gonna go.”
Aaron reaches his hand to him, but doesn’t touch him. “Wait.”
Andrew obediently stops. “What.”
Aaron bites his lip, not quite meeting Andrew’s gaze. “I… I get these nightmares too. With him.” He shakes his head as if trying to forget that. “I would kill him again if I could.”
Andrew doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods. “I know. I would too if he touched you.”
And Aaron nods as well and they don’t talk about it further.
By the time they walk into the kitchen, Neil is already there, making coffee. He takes one look at the two of them and only adds two more mugs without a word and Andrew thinks that maybe in the end they’ll be okay.