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Nightmares.
They’re fairly common in people who had traumatic experiences.
So when David woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare where he was strapped to a chair and tortured(treated) by a man who had his face(Not his anymore), the first thing he did was check if he was alone in the bed.
(He’d be taken again if he was and he did not want to be taken again he did not he did not he did not-)
He wasn’t alone. André was fast asleep next to him.
And he felt like shit.
He knew that he had to go to the house on Saint Albas today.
But he felt like his brain was folding in on itself.
So he decided to call in sick.
His voice sounded far too professional during the phone call.
(On the contrary, Doctor. It’s just as professional as it once was.)
He had managed to get off of the bed and make it to the loo when André woke up, and once he was done with that, he went back into the bed to admire the man who hadn’t even tried to save him from the vase he loved.
“Hello, darling. How’d you sleep?” He asked, and he noticed that his voice was leaning more towards having a British accent instead of an Australian one.
(You’re coming back, Doctor.)
He didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because the Brazilian man, took him in his arms, and gently pushed him back onto the bed, making sure to cover him with his body so he wouldn’t try and get up.
“Love, you know that you can’t go to work in this state, even though you have multiple times this month. You need to rest.”
David processed those words, and then shot André a sly smile.
”Who said I was going into work today, love?”
André then let out a relieved sigh, and planted a small kiss onto his forehead.
”Oh, graças a Deus.”
”You’re that relieved about me taking time off, darling?”
”Sim, I am. You’ve been working yourself to the bone, and I know that it’s about those nightmares you’ve been having.”
David’s smile slipped off of his face.
Oh. Right. The nightmares.
(Glimpses into a past that you remember too well, Doctor.)
”Ah. Those. Well, at least I don’t bolt awake and clutch onto the person who’s closest to me anymore.” He said, meaning them in a joking way.
The horrified look that had appeared on André’s face told him that his husband had not taken it as a joke.
”Darling-“
”David, I know that you use humor as a coping mechanism, but that is not right. You should be able to cling onto someone if you have nightmares. That’s why I’m here, Davy.”
Despite himself, David let out a small snort.
”Davy? Really? You haven’t called me that since uni.”
”I know, I know.” André ran a hand through his hair.
”It’s just.. I’m worried about you, David. I’m worried that you’re going to be taken from me.”
(Says the man who was the cause of you being taken-)
”Oh, for the love of god, shut UP!” David yelled, clutching his head.
André’s brows furrowed in concern.
”Darling, are you-“
”Alright? No. And I haven’t been alright. Do you want to know why, love?” David said, looking like he desperately needed to get it off of his chest.
”Yes. Yes, I would like to know why.”
”Well, it’s a little thing called there’s a stream of thoughts in my head that’s reminding me of being Doctor David, when I don’t even know who he is, and I do not want to find out!”
”..Thoughts? Like the ones that always tell me that isolating myself and burying myself in grading papers is the best way to live? Those kinds of thoughts?”
”..Yeah. Yeah, those thoughts.”
”..Shit.”
David nodded.
”Indeed.”
Now it was André’s turn to clutch his head. “What do we do about them?”
”Well, I’ve been trying to ignore mine.”
(And look how that turned out. I’m still here. I haven’t been purged from your mind-)
”But, and this is only a suggestion, we could try and do things that are in direct contrast with the thoughts.”
”Elaborate.”
”Alright, so, when you’re feeling especially lonely, you could come to me, and I’ll just be around you. I know that you don’t really like talking that much, and sometimes you just need someone to be near you, so I could do that. And, in turn, when my brain’s telling me something like “Ooooh you want to go into the medical field for the purpose of doing medical malpractice so badly oooh”, you can give me a list of reasons why that wouldn’t be a good idea at all! It’d be a win-win situation for the both of us!”
”..But you’d do great in the medical field, darling.”
”I know I would, but if I’m going into it for the sole purpose of committing medical malpractice, I wouldn’t do so great, now would I?”
André paused.
”No. No, you wouldn’t.”
”Exactly! And I’m perfectly happy being a real estate agent.”
(No you’re not. You’d love to be a doctor. You’d love to take care of people.)
David’s face fell as those thoughts entered his mind.
They were true.
But he knew that if he did, he would cause more harm than good.
(You’d be a great doctor. One of the best in the field. You’d discern the ones who have real problems from the ones who are just making it up so easily. Face it, Doctor. You’re born for the role.)
He was snapped out of those thoughts by André squeezing his hand.
”Hey. No. Don’t let them overtake your mind. I’m here.”
David let out a shaky breath, and then wrapped his arms around André, burying his face into his hair.
Their embrace held many unspoken words. Words that they could not dare say, words that they regretted not saying, and words that had more of an impact if left unsaid.
But there were three sets of words that were mostly prevalent in that moment.
I’m here for you.
Everything will be okay.
You are loved.
And the last one, however meaningless it may have seemed in the face of the horrors that plagued the world around them, was the most profound to the two of them.
Because they were loved.
They were loved.
And no one could take that away from them.