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The sky is dark. Blacker than the eternal haze of the night kingdom. The only light is from a halo of abyssal blue, casting doom on the vibrant Natlanese landscape.
Mere hours before, the sun was shining and the plans for war were going as smoothly as any ever do.
Now all Kinich can do is run. From north, to south, back to the stadium. With each passing moment more and more people fall, bodies littering the ground like fallen leaves.
If he pauses for a moment, even Kinich finds bile rising in his throat. Over to his right, a child lays dead. Next to her, her mother, who was killed protecting her.
Kinich shakes his head. Not now. Keep going. The war depends on the flow of information.
But in his heart the dead compounds. This isn’t the Pilgrimage. This isn’t just volunteers who fought for their space. This is everyone and the more he thinks, the more he’s certain that even with the information in hand…there’s little hope for victory.
Kinich keeps running, running until the scene changes. The sky is still dark, but this… this is the cliffs around his childhood home. This
He turns, trying to get back to the war, to do his duty, to save those he can, when a hand reaches out and snags his ankle.
“Where are you going, boy?”
Kinich’s father sneers at him, his body broken as in death, but his expression…
Kinich freezes, the terror of his childhood rushing back in a flood.
No, no, no
“...rade. Comrade. Kinich, wake up. Wake up. It’s just--”
Kinich jolts awake, nearly slamming his forehead into Tartaglia’s.
Tartaglia rests a gentle hand on Kinich’s shoulder. “Easy there, comrade. Take a breath, alright.”
Kinich obeys, drawing a shuddering breath, only then realizing that he’s trembling like a leaf. He draws his knees to his chest and lets his head fall, hiding the tears that slip down his cheeks.
Tartaglia sits next to the other man. The sound Kinich made while dreaming was startling enough. The last thing Ajax ever expected to hear from his pragmatic boyfriend was a sound akin to a dying animal. But to see the hunter crying …. For once Tartaglia finds himself in uncomfortably unfamiliar territory.
“Hey, dorogaya , talk to me. How can I help? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, just tell me how to help.”
Kinich hiccups. Rather than responding verbally, he moves so that he can curl against Tartaglia’s chest.
“Alright, Kinich, dorogaya , this works. Just cry yourself out.”
Tartaglia rubs soothing circles into his lover’s back, whispering, “It’s alright. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Over the next several minutes, Kinich cries himself out, shuddering and holding back broken sobs. When his tears finally dry, he goes limp in Tartaglia’s arms. “Ajax…”
“I’m here, comrade.”
“My father is still dead…right? He’s not going to come back?”
Tartaglia hides a snarl in Kinich's hair. He had heard rumors of what happened to Kinich’s family--his mother running away and his father falling off a cliff in a drunken rage-- and after he was asked, Kinich gave a brief overview of what his life was like as a child.
“He’s good and dead, Kinich. He can’t hurt you anymore. It was just a dream. Not real.”
Kinich nods. After another long silence, he speaks again. “Thank you, Ajax. I’ll find a way to repay you for this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, dorogaya ? I am your boyfriend. There is no price for helping my lovely boyfriend after a nightmare. I’d be a shitty boyfriend if I thought you had to pay me back.”
Kinich shrugs. “There’s always a price to pay.”
Tartaglia cups Kinich’s cheek, drawing the shorter man’s gaze up to meet his own. “Look at me, Kinich. I am not your mother, your father, or your tribe. All I want is for you to be happy. I wish I could chase your nightmares away, but if I can’t at least I can hold you after.”
Kinich furrows his brow. “I--I don’t understand.”
Tartaglia simply kisses Kinich’s forehead. “And that’s ok. I have all the time in the world to show you what I mean.”
Kinich yawns and blushes, only for Tartaglia to chuckle.
“Do you think you can sleep now, dorogaya ?”
“I think so.”
Tartaglia slips under the blankets, lifting the other edge so Kinich can join him. “Then come here, loveling. Maybe sharing a blanket will help keep any more nightmares away.”
Kinich nods and slips under the blanket. He relaxes when Tartaglia wraps his arms around him, nuzzling Kinich’s fluffy hair. “G’night comrade.”
“Good night, Ajax.”
As he falls asleep, Kinich can’t help but be grateful that when the lights go out, Ajax is there and won’t let him fall.