Work Text:
The next few days passed in a haze of work and the newly familiar aches that accompanied even the slightest of movements. It was a fact that still made his chest hollow out with dread, even a week after it had been confirmed to him that he would have to learn to simply live with the pain. He said nothing of it, even if he knew the others noticed his occasional winces and silent gasps.
By Friday afternoon, Monty was thoroughly exhausted. A combination of broken sleep, endless paperwork, and the constant effort of trying to hide his own pain had drained every last dredge of energy he had left and no amount of coffee could stop his eyes from closing.
—
Hester didn’t notice the noises at first. It was a rare moment when all four of them were in the basement at once, so the random noises of existence were to be expected. Mr. Cholmondeley’s tendency to mutter to himself and Ms. Leslie’s habit to hum when concentrating was likely what caused her to ignore the soft groans until they’d escalated to quiet sobs.
She glanced around. Charles was staring intently at a report concerning the ever rising presence of flying bombs. Jean was filling out various forms and applying the relevant stamps to envelopes. Her gaze landed on their fourth member.
At first glance, Montagu appeared to be simply sleeping; his head was buried in his hands and his eyes were closed. On closer inspection, however, Hester noticed how tense his shoulders appeared and how his hands seemed to be trembling slightly. His mouth was open slightly and she could hear his frantic breaths from where she was sitting.
Before Hester could even stand up, a low whine echoed through the basement, causing both Charles and Jean to look up.
“What happened?” Jean asked quickly.
Charles’ gaze had already locked onto Montagu, “He’s having another nightmare.”
Hester had made her way over to Ewen’s desk, carefully keeping her distance as she considered what would be the best way to wake him, when she turned her head sharply to look at Charles, “Another?”
“He- he had one not long after waking up. He was screaming for help and- and crying out all our names. I’m not sure if he’s had anymore since then, but that one was… it was bad. I, uh, wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had more after that.” Charles hurried to explain, the unspoken reality that nightmares were just something to live with now was evident through the slight shake of his voice.
The knowledge that Montagu had been having nightmares didn’t exactly shock Hester, but the fact that she hadn’t noticed made her skin crawl with shame. Suddenly, the blonde man let out a broken yell and Hester felt her heart shatter at the pure fear in his voice.
“How do we wake him up?” Jean asked from where she was standing by Hester’s elbow.
“I’m not sure the best way to do it,” She confessed, “But he’s going to hurt himself if he keeps going like this. Mr. Cholmondeley, will you hold his shoulders so he doesn’t fall.”
Charles, who had been watching Monty with a knowing look on his face, jumped up and immediately complied with the request.
“Jean, would you go fetch some tea? I have a feeling Montagu is going to need some when he awakens.” Jean, unlike Cholmondeley, hesitated before ascending the stairs. Her gaze flickered from Montagu to Hester and back again, clearly desperate to help but not knowing what to do. “Please, Jean.”
Once Jean had left, Hester crouched down beside Montagu and grabbed his hand. His palms were sweaty and trembling as she gently squeezed them, “Montagu?”
The man twitched when she spoke, but his eyes didn’t open and his sobs only got louder.
“Ewen, you need to wake up. It’s only a dream.” She said more or less the same thing again and again, louder and louder, but Ewen didn’t stir. Charles’ knuckles were white where they gripped the man’s shirt, holding him in place only seemed to be getting harder as Montagu began to thrash more and more.
“MONTY!”
Hester jumped slightly at Charles’ sudden shout, not expecting such a loud cry from her usually very meek coworker. She wasn’t the only one who startled, as Ewen’s eyes flew open and he finally managed to dart from his seat. Charles tried to grab him again, he clearly hadn’t expected the strength that would come with Montagu waking up, but Monty was already on the floor with his hands over his head and a small scream of pain escaping his lips.
“DO NOT TOUCH ME.” The man sobbed from where he cowered on the ground.
Charles withdrew his hands from where they had been reaching for Montagu.
“Ewen,” Hester tried, but the man flinched and started shaking his head violently.
“Leave me alone,” His voice cracked as he begged, “Please, I know you’re not real. Just leave me alone.”
“Monty,” Charles’ voice was barely more than a whisper, “I promise we’re real.”
Montagu’s hands were still clasped over his head and his breathing was so erratic that Hester was sure he would pass out if he didn’t calm down soon. She wasn’t the only one who seemed to realize that, as Charles suddenly started to take very loud and deliberate breaths.
“Monty, it’s Charles. Charlie. You are safe. You had a nightmare. You’re in the basement at work. Hester is next to me and Jean has gone to get tea. You are safe.”
Despite how desperate Hester was to help, she took a few steps back. Whatever Charles was doing had at least stopped Montagu’s violent, heaving breaths - even if he was still silently shaking his head and trembling.
“Can I touch you, Monty?” Charles’ question caused the man to freeze, before he slowly nodded. Hester watched in silence as Charles reached out, narrating his movements constantly, and gently clasped Montagu’s hand. The effect was immediate; Ewen lifted his head and looked at the other man through teary eyes before practically melting into him. Charles made a small noise of surprise before gently winding his arms around Montagu.
When Jean arrived with a tray of tea, what felt like hours later, she quickly gestured for her to be quiet. Jean nodded, before glancing at where Montagu had ended up on the floor and mouthing ‘Is he okay?’
Hester gave her a sad shrug in reply. She wasn’t sure any of them were okay anymore.
Cholmondeley whispered something Hester couldn’t make out to Montagu, who gave the smallest nod into Charles’ shoulder.
“Hester, would you help me get Monty over to the couch?” Charles asked, voice still extremely quiet. Hester immediately nodded and started forward to help.
Ewen seemed to have calmed down significantly by the time he was sat on the couch with a cup of earl grey in hand. No one had spoken since they’d all sat down around the little coffee table Jean and Montagu had snuck down one day, not long after Mincemeat.
“I’m… I’m sorry about that.” Montagu said from where he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Charles.
“Why in God’s name are you apologizing?” Jean asked, practically ripping the words from Hester’s brain.
Ewen shrugged and stared at his tea like it held the answers.
“You’re not the only one who has nightmares.” Hester said plainly.
Montagu’s eyes snapped up to her in disbelief, but he seemed to find only truth in her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Hester asked. Montagu’s expression darkened immediately and he glanced around the room.
“No.”
For once, Hester decided not to pressure him. “Okay, well, Ms. Leslie and I have got some bits and pieces to finish in the typing pool before Bevan can drive us back. How about you and Cholmondeley stay here and I’ll fetch you when it’s time to leave?”
Montagu nodded silently and returned his gaze to the tea.