Work Text:
Fenrir woke up abruptly and in cold sweat. For a few seconds his eyes couldn't focus on anything and the thought that he might be blind crossed his mind; but soon enough he adjusted to the dark room and blinked himself awake, things slowly starting to take shape.
Swallowing back down a choked whimper, he dug his palm in his eye, his shaky fingers coming up damp with sweat as they touched his forehead.
Vague images and sounds replayed behind his eyelids, the last of his nightmare refusing to leave. Of memories. His co-workers screams, the bloody aftermath left behind... All the innocent people caught in the middle of a madman's plan.
It was all your fault. Everything was your fault, the voices seemed to echo.
His chest heaved while he tried to get himself together, then panic filled him when he felt something holding him down by the waist. His body was stiff as his mind raced, only to realize Kapkan was beside him, hurting him was the last thing Kapkan would do.
Sighing and raising up the bed as quietly as he could, Fenrir padded to the kitchen, the coldness on his bare feet served to startle him out of any lingering sleepiness.
Not bothering turning on any of the lights, he decided on making himself a hot cup of tea. Chamomile, he had to find chamomile. His hands trembled as they searched the cupboards, but he didn't pay them any mind. He'd feel better after this, he had to. Fenrir just needed to do this and everything was going to be just fine.
He leaned on the granite counter as he waited for the kettle to heat up the water, the light on the machine made him look away towards the darker corners of the room.
Fenrir tapped his index finger on the surface rapidly, feeling restless. His ears were ringing a little too. Shit. Having Deimos so close had completely thrown him off and the nightmares were getting more frequent instead of disappearing.
It should feel different. Or at least Fenrir had thought it would feel different, but he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was wrong . He couldn't come up with any solutions just based on vague sensations and it was taking a toll on him.
Fenrir had yet to go see Deimos; he didn't know what he would do if he went near the holding cells. He certainly didn't trust himself to be clear headed now that all the worst feelings he had buried in his chest seemed ready to drag him under all over again.
The kettle gave the signal that it was done working, but Fenrir just curled his hand into a fist, and dug his nails in his palm, closing his eyes tightly. He should really go to sleep, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to. Fenrir had been forgoing sleep too often lately, but he couldn't find a way to settle. Things felt too raw right now, and he wasn't eager to go back to stare blankly at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity.
Although... Kapkan was there and he always made things better – as temporary as the relief was.
It wouldn't hurt trying to go back to bed anyway. Fenrir turned to the side, watching the steam coming out of the kettle, a cup and bagged tea already set aside, but he didn't feel like having it at the moment. So he sighed one more time, not putting anything away and just leaving the kitchen.
He managed only two steps, keeping his burning eyes on the floor, before bumping into something. Or someone.
Kapkan held him upright by the side of his arms, while Fenrir tried to get the cobwebs out of his mind. His first instinct was to apologize, surely Kapkan's wakefulness was his fault.
Another thing to add to his guilty conscience.
Yet a stern expression on Kapkan's face stopped him. He looked like he understood, and he probably did, to some level. Being part of the military had made them do and witness things that would leave anyone else barebone and broken; Kapkan didn't want Fenrir to force himself.
A shaky breath later, Fenrir pressed his overly tired body on Kapkan, keeping his arms limp at his side while he buried his head on his partner's shoulder, glad that he didn't have to say anything at all. The smell of Kapkan's aftershave was enough to unknot the tightness in his throat threatening to choke him.
Kapkan held Fenrir more fully, caressing his back in wide strokes as he felt Fenrir melt more into him. He continued whispering in Fenrir's ear that everything was alright in Russian, not stopping until most of Fenrir's body had loosened up.
"Back to bed?" Kapkan kept his voice soft, pressing lightly at the space between Fenrir's shoulder blades.
Fenrir nodded, his nose grazing on the soft skin of Kapkan's neck, raising up, but still keeping whatever part of him he could touching Kapkan.
Getting back under the covers was a quiet affair, neither said anything for a while. Fenrir still felt like he would never get any words out of his mouth. He felt weak and too brittle, just about anything would drag him back down to the cesspool of guilt and anxiety he had managed to crawl out of.
There was a soft touch on the back of his hand that made his breath stutter, immediately looking for the source. Kapkan was barely visible, but Fenrir's mind filled the blanks.
Tracing Kapkan’s cheek with his fingertips, Fenrir shuffled closer, finding reassurance on the warmth seeping out of Kapkan's skin.
“I got you,” Kapkan whispered as he pulled Fenrir into his arms, running his fingers through Fenrir's hair to further help him relax.
Slowly, very slowly, Kapkan repeated the motions until he could feel Fenrir's breathing even out on his chest, his body dropping more into Kapkan as he began to doze off; it wasn't long before he was out cold. Fenrir must've been exhausted, usually it would take longer for him to fall asleep.
Kapkan continued for far longer than he needed to, wanting to look at his partner's tucked in face, but not daring to move since Fenrir was finally resting, so he settled for tightening his arms. He gritted his teeth remembering the cause of everyone's problems, of Fenrir's. He wanted to go pay Deimos a visit and maybe leave him a souvenir of a 9mm on his head, but Fenrir had already rejected his idea.
Taking a deep breath, Kapkan muzzled into the sleeping man. All that was left was to keep a closer eye on Fenrir; he couldn't do much more than that.