Work Text:
Ray has a nightmare. well, The nightmare. the same one, that comes around every once in a while. bottles of all kinds cover every other inch of the floor. his mom in the midst of them. him laying next to her. not the age he was then, but whatever age he is now. she won't look at him. no matter how loud he screams her name she doesn't turn to him. no matter how hard he digs his nails into her cold hand, she refuses to hold him back. sobs rack through his body, the awful rotten pit sitting in the depths of his chest expanding, until it swallows his cries. he's left lying there like her. smelling like alcohol and death.
when he wakes up with a broken gasp, tear tracks down his face, he panics for a moment, paralysing loneliness sitting like lead within his bones. that is, until he turns, and finds Sand where he would always find him - next to him. those large eyes already trained on his own. a hand (soft, warm) reaches out to brush away the wetness now pooling on his pillow. before Ray can take in a breath to speak, he's enveloped by strong arms and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke.
"I'm here. Go to sleep." A kiss on the top of his head, while fingers trace slow circles on the curve of his back.
Ray swallows around whatever monstrous feeling that sits in his throat and goes back to sleep.
----
these days don't come around that often anymore. but today is always a guarantee. her anniversary. her ghost clings to him, holds him cruelly in death in a way she had refused to during her life. his shoulders are always pulled in, eyes downcast.
Sand can see his hand itch to reach for the bottle, so he puts his songwriting notebook in his hands instead, reminding Ray of his promise to help him with the lyrics. there's pages missing from where Sand had ripped out the one he was writing for his own mom. later, Sand gives him the laundry basket, reminds him it's his turn on Fridays. Ray takes it without the usual complaints. after that, Sand wordlessly gives him the laptop so he can finish booking their hotel for their trip next month.
when the sun sits lower in the sky, and the dark brings its friends, Sand presses the car keys into Ray's hand. they drive aimlessly, fast enough and music loud enough for their thoughts to not catch up to them.
the eat at a diner on their way back. decent food with decent music. the only other people are a family - parents and their young son, all smiling and happy. they smoke under the stars before driving back home, taking the slower route.
they move around each other, familiar in their routines. they reach for each other more often than usual, fingers snagging on clothes, Ray's head resting between Sand's shoulder blades. Sand blinks away his tears, wrangling his anger back down into its cage to sit under his ribs. he kisses the nape of Ray's neck as he climbs into bed.
Ray fits into his arms like he was always meant to be there, face pressed into his heartbeat. maybe tonight Sand can protect him, give Ray what he needs, like he desperately wants to. for an hour or so, he thinks he might be able to. but then, Ray begins to breathe ragged, broken whispers of 'mae' cutting straight into Sand's heart.
he does what he does best, he sings. not his usual pick, gritty and loud. but a lullaby his mother used to sing years ago on nights he crawled into her bed, hungry and lonely and scared. he half-sings, half-hums it to his Ray now, one hand carding though his hair, the other pressed flat against his back. his voice rises and falls, carries into the silent room.
the sobs slow, the deep wrinkle between Ray's eyebrows softening, mouth falling open. Sand kisses away the lingering tears on those rosy cheeks, his own still falling. Ray is no longer strung tight, Sand's voice lulling him away from those memories, from that empty mansion, bringing him back to their little apartment.
in a minute or so, Ray's eyes flutter open, big and shining. Sand hopes he doesn't hear how his heart stutters. "I'm here, baby. I love you. Sleep, okay?" Sand whispers, voice low.
Ray nods, slow. "I know. I love you too, so much."
and then, finally, a small smile, lips pulling up slightly at the corners. a little thing, yes, but so bright in the dark. it works its magic on Sand, eases the lump in his throat, the weight pulling him under. he feels filled with light, a soft glow emanating from within, absorbed from the man opposite him.
the sun will rise tomorrow, and Sand will go to Ray when he calls, and hold him when he demands it, pouting and smiling and teasing. and they will be alright.