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Alan sleeps on the floor because he’s fallen off the bed before, and nearly breaking his nose isn’t worth the exchange of the moderate comfort of a mattress. The last time he’d flailed himself out of bed in a sweaty, gasping state of panic, he’d woken Virgil on the floor below. He’d barely gotten himself out of the tangle of blankets and huddled back into bed before his older brother had opened the door to check on him. Then Alan had pretended to be asleep until Virgil went away. His family already fusses over him more than he can stand. He doesn’t need to be babied because of a few bad dreams.
Only they get worse. Alan runs short on sleep for a long two weeks, and it’s a catch-22. The more sleep he needs; the less he gets, and the nightmares turn into night terrors.
Finally he wakes the entire household with screaming, and by the time he’s back to himself, Scott’s halfway in bed with him, half hugging, half restraining him so he doesn’t hurt himself.
Alan’s heart is thundering, his eyes are wet. He’s shaking from exertion and damp with sweat by the time he fully registers Scott’s presence. He looks around blearily, spots Grandma in the doorway with Gordon hanging anxiously by her elbow.
“Allie?” Scott says gently. “You back?”
Everyone looks different at night. Grandma looks older, Gordon looks more like their mother than Alan ever remembers he does. In spite of himself, he’s still hiccuping for breath and Scott’s rubbing his hand up and down his back, and Alan can’t help feeling like he’s five years old again, exactly what he didn’t want.
Except–Scotty’s warm, and his shoulder is broad and strong when Alan presses his face against the t-shirt his brother wears to bed. And Scott’s there, Scott’s always been there. Alan doesn’t even remember what the dream was, but the reality is that he needs his big brother right now. He buries himself against Scott’s chest and sighs heavily. “M’sorry,” he mumbles. “Was a bad dream.”
“And then some,” Scott agrees, his tone still gentle. He says something to Gordon and Grandma, and they call soft good nights. Alan’s already halfway back to sleep when his brother carefully tucks him back under the blankets. He stays, long past how long he needs to, just watching his little brother. At least Alan won’t remember in the morning, just what it was like to wake to the sound of that kind of terror.