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It didn't happen often, but it still happened too many times as far as Nik’s concerned. They had quiet nights where he and his love were blessed with the opportunity to sleep in the same bed together. A sweetened and priceless luxury that Nik would never be able to afford. Where he was able to hold his Captain in his arms as they drifted to sleep together, soft snoring filling the room like a soothing symphony. Sometimes nightmares would find them, some more violent than others. Left one of them screaming in the dark, only soothed by soft words and comforting touches.
But it was the nights that Nik woke up to a cold bed, brain muddled as it tried to decipher what had woken him. It’s the soft sound of crying that has him sitting up immediately, an ever present ache throbbing in his chest. Price was usually sat at the end of their bed. Rarely in the bathroom anymore.
Before, during the first times Nik would catch him, Price usually hid himself in the en suite, sobbing muffled as to not disturb the Russian. It had only become a more recent development that Price remained in the room when the tears began to flow. Nik was grateful for it.
It meant Price trusted him with this— with what his Captain perceived as weakness. What Nik admired as nothing but strength.
“Don’t turn on the light, Nik. Please.” Price whispered, voice hoarse and catching in his throat. He’d been crying a while, then. That wouldn’t do.
“My beloved,” Nik rumbled, trying to keep his voice soothing. Reassuring. “Come to me. You are too far away over there.” He always had to tread carefully. Price was somewhat like a cat— move too quick, act too suddenly and you would end up with a scratched hand and wounded pride.
Price didn’t like to be seen like this. Not even by Nik. By Laswell. His boys. The years of his suffering by himself before their relationship haunted Nik’s thoughts. His poor love, weeping, all alone. Believing himself weak. Unlovable. His desire to be strong was poisonous sometimes.
It meant it festered, matured into something ugly— something that hurt when it was finally released, leaving a scratched throat that felt like sandpaper and a chest in a vice like grip. Price was yet to move despite Nik's coaxing, face buried in shaking wet hands.
“Precious one,” Nik tried again, voice saccharine sweet.
Price only wept more. Nik sighed to himself and shuffled until he was able to position himself behind his love, pressing kisses to heaving shoulders.
“Shh, my love. Hush,” he whispered, wanting nothing more than to fight the demons that plagued Price and hating his inability to help. To wave his hand and make everything better.
There was little point in asking what had happened. Price had moments like these— where the guilt felt too heavy on his shoulders. The grief burrowed a cavity in his chest. The shards of cracked fortitude chipping away at an already bruised heart that forgot the very reason it beat.
Nik selfishly wanted to be the reason it remembered. Large hands massaged Price’s broad shoulders, encouraging warmth back into goosebumped flesh. Price heaved another sob, the ferocity making the bed shake. Nik pulled him backwards into his chest, humming absently.
“Lean on me, John, there we go.”
The second Price let himself curl up against his chest, Nik wrapped his arms more firmly around the man— curled around him. A shield. A cracked one, sure, but stalwart and adamant nevertheless. It would take time, some days it would be only minutes, other days it would be hours. Price would fall asleep like that, bawling like the world was ending. Nik would let him.
Because he knew in the morning, Price would need to be strong again. Would need to lock up the guilt and grief into a little box in the back of his mind, only letting it unlock in the dead of night when Nik was there. And Nik would welcome the darkest parts of Price with open arms and a kiss. Because even those darkest of shadows were part of the John be adored. His John. His Captain. His love. His everything. He comforted him this night like he had several before. And would always comfort him for the many to come.