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Cold.
A sensation appearing out of nowhere piqued the curiosity of Kapkan’s sleepy mind. His consciousness slowly rose to the surface, still somewhat bound to the calm darkness. He blinked a tired eye open to find much of the same.
Having nothing else to go off of, he tried to find the source of the coldness - and it occurred to him that it was coming from very close. He felt it on his arms, his chest, his neck, his shoulder. He was holding it. It was holding him.
His body felt like he was prying himself out of thick mud, but he managed to lift one of his palms and hold it up to his face. Even with the lack of lighting, he could see something dark smeared all over it. And then the smell hit him.
Adrenaline surged through him like a lightning strike, electrifying the still waters he’d been resting in. The unmistakable smell of blood kicked his system into action, primal instinct screaming at him to get away as fast as possible. He shoved himself away but didn’t get far, a weight still clinging on to him. He braced himself before reaching for the grip on his arm, desperately shooting down thoughts of what it could be as he peeled it away. It worked, but in exchange his hand became even more dirty - caked with layers of blood, thick and sticky and smelling so horribly of death.
He rolled off the mattress just as a bright glow enveloped the room, emanating from a source unknown. It bathed the bed he escaped from in a sick violet shade, finally casting light on the form laying still on the sheets.
Glaz.
Kapkan felt like he was choking. His own ribcage, his own flesh was suffocating him. The smell wouldn’t ease, and he couldn’t pry his eyes away from the cold cadaver of his lover, or the pale phantom eyes that even in death seemed to be full of resentment. Couldn’t shake the icy film still stuck on his body from where he held him. Couldn’t breathe.
A glint drew his attention to a knife embedded in Glaz’s throat.
It was one he recognized as his own.
He awoke with the same lightning-rush of adrenaline, sweating and panting in overwhelmed panic. Feet landed on the floorboards with a hard thump as he threw himself out of bed, the covers falling onto the floor.
Empty. It was completely empty, white, and harmless. It was a dream.
Glaz - he was probably in his room, sound asleep. It still seemed to be the dead of night. He had to check on him. He had to be sure.
Willing his hurried steps and erratic breathing under control, he walked to the other’s room, hand hovering above the handle anxiously. He pressed on it as gently as possible, wincing at the slight creak as he opened it just enough to peer in.
Glaz slept the same way he always did, tucked in and perfectly still. Kapkan watched in silence as his chest rose and fell, ten times, twenty, a hundred, taking in the reality of it.
The amount of relief that washed over him almost sent him crumbling to the floor. He wanted to sprint over, wrap his arms around the sleeping man and cry into his shoulders. Hold and be held until all the worries melted away. It was a silly, childish desire, and he shouldn’t wake Glaz for that. It was simply a bad dream, and he was a grown adult. He’ll deal with it on his own.
It’s not enough , a voice in his mind spoke as he turned from the door. Kapkan wasn’t used to fear, or doubt, or whatever it was - talking back to him. But he had to admit what it said had a chance of being true. Before, the dream felt all too real as well; there was nothing denying the possibility that what he was currently seeing was also a fake construction. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the intrusive thoughts, with more or less success.
Thankfully no one else was around to discover him wandering around, Fuze and Tachanka being away on missions. He made his way to the kitchen sink, quietly opening the tap and gathering a handful of water to wash his face. Then he sat at the table, alone in the dark, and waited. Waited for the dream to fade into oblivion like dreams normally did. This one proved tougher though, the gross feeling, the cold, the smell all stubbornly clinging to all his different senses.
They wouldn’t listen to him telling them to shut up, that danger isn’t present. He was still as uneasy as he would be when on a mission with no backup. If only he could figure out why that feeling wouldn’t ease-
“Are you okay?”
The soft question made Kapkan jump in his chair so much that it immediately gave away the answer. Normally the hunter was near impossible to sneak up on. Still, he couldn’t deny how glad he was to see the sniper - in all his sleepy, bed-headed glory, but moving and alive. He almost forgot to answer.
“Uh, yeah I’m fine, just can’t really sleep.”
He expected it after that slip-up, but his lie wasn’t nearly enough to deter Glaz from staying. The man went to fill a cup with tap water, then took a seat opposite to him. He wasn’t quite staring, but it was obvious Kapkan had his full attention - and the hunter could already see that look of worry forming on the sniper’s face that he despised so much. It always filled him with a sense of guilt, even if he knew he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He still could be doing better. Act in a way that didn’t make his lover anxious.
“I had a bad dream,” he finally said, adding a faked yawn to make his attitude seem even more casual. “I already forgot most of it, so I’m just chilling here a bit before heading back to bed.”
He knew Glaz was difficult to trick, especially face-to-face, but Kapkan regarded himself very skilled at minimizing his own discomfort and convincing people he was fine. He could often convince himself, too. Unfortunately tonight wasn’t one of the times either of those worked.
“Want to talk about it?”
Kapkan shook his head, a little too fast to seem natural, then instead of answering the next lie of reassurance, he found himself shifting his gaze to stare intensely at a darker marking in the wood of the table. Internally, he was swearing up a storm; he was failing all the checkpoints of convincing someone there’s nothing to worry about.
In fact, he felt like he was doing the opposite - making it seem like he wanted the concern, the attention. As if deliberately presenting see-through excuses, blatantly begging the other person to ask and pry further. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. The horrifying images still burned vividly in his mind, flashing in to make his stomach drop over and over. The idea of sharing with Glaz the gruesome vision of his death, by Kapkan’s own hands to boot, was out of the question.
A touch broke him out of his tense train of thoughts. It was Glaz’s hand, reaching over the table to rest on his own. It wasn’t quite holding his yet; just a gentle approach, making an offer and carefully waiting for his response. Kapkan reciprocated without really thinking about it, inching his hand closer and relaxing it, letting Glaz intertwine their fingers. Their palms laid flat against each other, and there was no blood or bite. It felt… natural. Kapkan let himself breathe, and it felt like the first real breath he took since fear gripped him by the throat in his dream.
He stayed like that for a while, silently hoping Glaz would do the same. When the other moved to stand up, Kapkan was quick to pull his hand back and force a smile, shaking off his deeper thoughts and standing up himself. It was nice while it lasted, but it was over, and he was already happy Glaz indulged his stupid scared self for this long. He wasn’t going to ask for more, nor did he know how to.
“Anyway, it’s late, we have training tomorrow,” he said, already on his way back to his room. “I’m alright now, so-”
He was caught off guard for the second time that night. A hand was on his hand again, a shoulder brushing against his. There was a soft but firm pull to it, and Kapkan gave, letting the other man lead. He was turned around, now face to face with the sniper.
“You’re still shaking,” Glaz said, and Kapkan felt shame bubbling to the surface once again. Face flushed, he moved to turn away, muttering something about the weather. Glaz didn’t let him run.
“Come on, I know you better than this. We don’t have to talk, but you do have to let me help.”
The hunter gulped down air and forced himself to look his lover in the eye. He’d seen it too many times, the way people looked at a soldier showing weakness - pity, judgment, disappointment. Instead Glaz looked so sincere that now Kapkan felt guilty about ever thinking otherwise. The bright blues conveyed such pure love towards him, after his anxious thoughts it felt like complete whiplash.
All he offered were weak lies and an even weaker composure, yet Glaz didn’t seem to mind it the slightest. He was still there to offer support, care and safety. The least Kapkan could do in return was show some faith.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, just…” he blurted out without thinking, briefly forgetting about his partner not having telepathy to know where that came from. Thankfully, Glaz played along as usual.
“I know you trust me. Otherwise you wouldn’t let me do things like this,” he hooked his index finger under the other man’s chin and gave it a few light scratches.
“Don’t push it,” Kapkan warned, but his voice lacked any of the usual bite, and Glaz was already immune to his threats anyway. He was right, though - on a typical day, anyone else attempting that same maneuver would be risking a blade through their arm.
Kapkan let himself be led to the other’s room. Laying down on the bed did briefly flash in the earlier scares, but it was quickly overridden by the warm hand caressing his face, his hair, his shoulders. Glaz’s hand. His weight pressing down on the mattress. His scent enveloping the space. It pulled his focus like a magnetic force, soon enough there was no room for anything else occupying his mind.
He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.
He didn’t know when his heartbeat steadied, but as Glaz laid on top of him, bare chests flush against one another, the rhythms matched almost perfectly. Kapkan had never been so glad for a single bed, lacking space, not allowing for anything other than tight cuddles.
“I dreamed that you died. Stabbed in the throat.”
Glaz waited a second longer to see if the hunter would continue. “Were you okay?” he prompted.
“Yeah. I think.”
“That’s good to hear. Did I die defending you, like a brave knight?”
Kapkan became just a little bit more tense.
“No, I think I killed you. The knife was mine.”
“Hmm. Well, if you did, I’m sure you had a good reason.”
“Don’t say that. I wouldn’t do it, no matter the reason.”
Glaz gave a light shrug. “Well, just know, if you did, I’d forgive you. I’d still haunt you, though.”
Their position didn’t allow for Kapkan to elbow him, so he jabbed his fingers into Glaz’s side.
“Ow! It’d just be to check on you! Make sure you’re okay.”
Kapkan huffed. Thankfully his partner didn’t have any more stupid things to say. He did have to admit that it helped put things into context - the fact that it really was just a dream, that is. The hand was still in his hair, caressing softly. All the soothing gestures finally seemed to take effect, making it easier to ignore the risk of another nightmare if he was to go back to sleep.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
Glaz briefly stopped nuzzling into his neck. “You should wake me next time,” he said. Kapkan felt his warm breath on his skin as he spoke. “And don’t start with not wanting to bother me.”
“Fine. I’ll wake you,” the hunter replied, tired and comfortable enough to concede just about any argument.
“Sleep now?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll keep watch.”