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Mickey has always been a very light sleeper. He didn't only wake up at the slightest touch or noise but he would also jump up in full defense and form fists with his hands as if someone was about to get him. Probably the outcome of Terry's amazing parenting, he always thought.
The truth is the impact of his dad was even worse than what he originally thought. Since Terry died Mickey was dealing with nightmares every other night. He had no idea why they had to come now that the bastard is gone. He had no one to be afraid of anymore and even though for some weird reason he missed him a little bit he wouldn't want him to come back and ruin his fucking life like he had been doing all those years.
He was happy now, he was married, he had his business, a family that appreciated him more than Terry ever did. So why was this hunting him now? It was mostly his painful childhood memories enhanced by his imagination so it shouldn't make that big of a difference from when he was actually living these "nightmares". So why was it bothering him so much then?
Mickey was laying in bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling while all these questions flooded his head. He had just woken up from yet another nightmare hyperventilating, his heart racing and his breath hard to catch. Thankfully he didn't wake up Ian this time. The last few days Ian was always nagging him to stop turning around so much. He obviously hadn't realized the cause of the sudden jumps and the bed dipping.
Mickey turned his head slightly to look at Ian sleeping peacefully. He was a little jealous seeing how calm Ian was and a feeling of tenderness washed over him. He turned his head forward again and closed his eyes determined to fall asleep and not deal with these awful and honestly embarrassing night terrors again.
*
Not even three hours later Mickey jumped up completely panicked, looking all around the room as if he was waiting for an attack, grabbing onto the sheets and struggling to breath. He was so overwhelmed and frustrated with himself that his eyes almost formed tears.
Ian obviously had woken up at this point, the sudden movement causing him to grumble. "What the fuck Mick?" he whispered his eyes still shut. However Mickey felt so vulnerable and exposed at the time he couldn't even form words.
That itself seemed weird to Ian. Mickey had a response to everything didn't matter if he was right or wrong . "Alright, that's it. What's going on? Do you want us to change fucking mattress or something cause i can't deal with this shit every night Mick"
Mickey felt a bit sorry for his husband but he was too embarrassed to let his walls down so he tried to cover everything up. "Jesus can you stop nagging me for once?" he responded trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible but wiping his tears at the same time.
"Are you..." Ian got closer to Mickey to see better in the dark "crying?" he whispered. Apparently Mickey's attempt to sound okay didn't really work.
"No? The fuck is your problem?"
Mickey quickly replied and tried to lay back down but Ian's hand stopped him. "Is this about your dad again?" Ian asked but was met with silence.
"That's why you've been acting so weird these past few nights? Night terrors?". Again Mickey didn't reply. Crying about your deceased father was different from being upset over something as childish as a nightmare.
"Hey we are married we are supposed to fucking talk to each other Mick " Ian said softly touching Mickeys arm.
Mickey finally lifted up his head to look at Ian, feeling defeated but safe in the presence on his husband.
"Yea it's "night" fucking"terrors" or whatever you wanna call it." Mickey whispered as the memories raced through his head again causing a knot in his stomach. He sighed deeply trying to maintain calm and not let his tears slip or his breath lose it's rhyme.
Ian obviously noticed those changes. "Hey it's okay" he said. "I've got you you" Ian said slowly pulling Mickey towards him.
Mickey's body just followed along still tense but longing for comfort. "Who needs your fucking help bitch" Mickey mumbled his voice barely above a whisper, causing Ian to chuckle softly. Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest and wrapped his hand around Ian's torso holding onto him tightly. "Wasn't that hard right? We take care of each other. You told me that" Ian said planting a kiss on Mickey's hair. A quiet "Fuck you" was Mickey's response.
They both drifted peacefully to sleep with their legs and arms entangled and their breath synchronizing.
*
After another two hours or so Mickey jumped up again relenting away from Ian as he looked around panicked once again. "FUCK im sick of this shit" he yelled as he realised what has happened. He rubbed his temples trying to calm himself down.
"Shh come back" Ian whispered holding his arms towards Mickey. Mickey remained still until Ian reached for him and pulled him into his embrace once again. Mickey couldn't hold it in anymore. "I'm just so tired man. I thought i was done with all this shit" he whispered a heavy sigh following his words. Ian's hand softly ruffled Mickey's hair. "I know. I love you okay?"
"Tss love you too" Mickey replied and buried his face in the crook of Ian's neck.
As the minutes passed, Mickey gradually felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow, his tense muscles easing under Ian's reassuring touch.
They both fell asleep peacefully with
no other interruptions for the night.
*
This became a habit, the nightmares, Ian's embrace, Mickey protesting and then giving in every single time. It got to the point were they didn't even wait for the nightmare to happen. It was so comforting for Mickey to fall asleep and wake up in his husbands arms that the night terrors reduced dramatically, leaving only a bittersweet feeling to the both if them.