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Buck hadn’t moved in over an hour, staring blankly at the ceiling as he waited for dawn to break, the thin barrier between sleep and nightmare keeping his mind on edge. Each time he closed his eyes, he was back in that place, where darkness swallowed him whole and voices he didn’t want to remember kept calling his name.
He barely heard the soft creak of his bedroom door opening. His head turned slowly, surprised to see Tommy silhouetted against the faint light from the hall.
“Evan?” Tommy’s voice was soft, concerned.
"Can’t sleep?” Tommy asked, his eyes sharp, studying Buck’s face in the shadows.
Buck tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah,” he said, voice rough.
Tommy crossed the room, settling on the edge of Buck’s bed, close enough that his presence filled the empty spaces Buck didn’t realize were aching for company. “Another nightmare?”
Buck nodded, words caught in his throat. He tried to shrug it off, but the weight of it stayed heavy on his chest.
Tommy’s hand found Buck’s, fingers rough but steady, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re here Evan.. Safe,” he murmured, and though his voice was quiet, it held a strength that made Buck’s breath hitch. Tommy had always been good at cutting through the fog in Buck’s mind.
They sat in silence. Eventually, he felt himself start to relax, the edges of his anxiety beginning to fray and unravel.
“Get some sleep, Evan,” Tommy whispered, squeezing his hand one last time. “I’ll stay right here.”