Work Text:
Boil rolled over and pressed his nose into the back of Waxer’s neck. They had gone to bed later than normal, and Waxer had managed to drop off into sleep basically immediately. Boil, on the other hand, did not fall asleep quickly. Still, Waxer was warm and the quilts were heavy, so he was hopeful that his exhaustion would pull him under soon.
He heard the door slid partially open and cracked his eyes open.
“Boil?” Numa whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Mhm.” Boil mumbled. “Y’okay?”
“Had a nightmare.”
“C’mere.” Boil held up an arm and Numa scurried over, burrowing between Boil and Waxer. “Want to tell me about it?”
Numa shook her head, and Boil pulled her closer. Nightmares about the war were not uncommon, for all three of them, and while things had gotten a lot better, Numa was coming to them when she had them instead of just suffering alone, they still weren’t always talking about them.
Numa clung to Boil, and Boil gently ran a hand up and down her back. She didn’t cry and Boil mourned for them all, for each little cadet, each youngling, who had been taught that to cry was to be weak.
Eventually Numa fell asleep again, her grip on Boil slackening.
“She okay?” Waxer whispered. How long he had been awake, Boil didn’t know, so much of his focus having been taken up by their little sister.
“Nightmare again.” Waxer hummed and rolled over, throwing an arm over Numa and Boil.
“You okay?”
“Just wishing for things we can’t have.”
“We’ll make it kinder.” Waxer said, reading the conversation they had had many times from the way Boil tensed. “She’ll know a kinder world. But first, sleep.”
“I’ll try.” Boil said, and Waxer squeezed his shoulder.
“That’s all I’ll ever ask.”