Work Text:
Riley fell asleep on Neagley's couch, halfway through the Cubs game on TV and barely a dent into the stack of paperwork he'd brought with him.
He had bribed Neagley with decent beer and an even more decent pizza to let him come over and work alongside her on the couch.
He claimed he worked better that way. Stayed on task.
Over the phone earlier that evening, he'd told her, "My apartment's too quiet, your sound system is better, and I need those lights from your action figure shrine to keep me from falling asleep."
Apparently, the lights weren't doing their job.
Neagley laughed softly at his quiet snores and the uncomfortable-looking position he'd managed to fall asleep in. His face was relaxed despite the awkward angle of his neck, his brow smooth and free of worry or concern. His laptop lay haphazardly across his outstretched legs, and his half-finished beer rested on the side table.
She had her own work to do. Research and reports to complete for new clients.
She didn't know why she was watching him sleep.
Moving her laptop onto the coffee table, she got up and carefully removed Riley's before it could slide off his legs. He responded by slouching more deeply into her couch.
Satisfied, Neagley grabbed his warm beer bottle and her empty one and carried them into the kitchen.
She reached for a bowl and pulled a box of Corn Pops from the shelf when she heard a sudden intake of breath, followed by unintelligible mumbling.
Leaning out of the kitchen, she peered into the living room.
"Riley?"
Still slouched on her couch, he no longer looked relaxed. His right hand twitched against his stomach, his face screwed up with tension.
She walked over and stood beside his legs, which were still propped up on the coffee table.
"Riley?"
He began to whimper softly.
Neagley's heart dropped into her stomach.
"Riley."
His breaths came in short bursts. Too fast. Too shallow.
He was panicking.
Neagley ached to reach out to him, to jostle him awake and pull him out of whatever nightmare had taken hold. But her hands remained frozen at her sides, her own fears rising close to the surface.
She knew he was asleep. She knew he needed her to wake him.
Knowing didn't make reaching for him any easier.
"Hudson!"
Riley jolted awake, his eyes flying open as he looked around in bewilderment. Fear and sadness were written across his face as he struggled to regain his bearings.
He let out a soft sigh of relief when his eyes found hers.
Then he quickly wiped at the moisture gathering in his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment under her concerned gaze.
"Are you okay?"
She stepped back as he got up from the couch.
He began stacking their plates to take into the kitchen, avoiding both her question and her gaze.
Neagley followed him, watching as he set the plates in the sink. Riley leaned forward, his arms stretched out in front of him as he gripped the edge of the counter.
"I'm okay. I just need a minute."
She noticed the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders as he took slow, deliberate breaths, no doubt trying to calm his racing heart.
He surprised her by speaking first.
Then again, Riley had always been forthcoming. He was usually the first to apologize after an argument and he tended to offer his thoughts whether she wanted them or not.
"I... uh... I keep having nightmares about that day at Echo Canyon."
Sometimes Neagley had to remind herself that Riley wasn't a soldier like her. He hadn't been trained for combat or seen the things she had.
"We got a lot of people out. We got Keno out."
"I know. That's... that's not what I keep seeing in my head."
He took a deep breath.
Turning around, he leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest.
Neagley waited for him to continue.
"I keep seeing... you."
"What am I doing?"
"Dying mostly."
He glanced at her, then down at his feet.
"It's different almost every time. Sometimes I see you falling down the elevator shaft, but this time the elevator's all the way at the bottom. Sometimes we get lost in the maze of the bunker and I can't get us out in time. Sometimes I see you getting shot by that cult leader asshole. Sometimes—"
Neagley had seen Riley frightened before.
She had seen him angry, frustrated, and exhausted. She had seen him face down men twice his size without so much as blinking.
But she had never seen him look quite like this.
And the worst part was that she didn't know what to do about it.
She could tell him that she was fine. That she had survived. That none of those things had happened.
But he'd been there. He already knew all of that.
What he needed was something she wasn't sure she could give him.
She looked at his hands, tucked beneath his folded arms.
Then at the space between them.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped forward.
Riley stopped speaking as she entered his personal space, her feet coming to rest only a few inches from his own.
Her heart pounded, but Neagley was determined to do what she'd set out to do.
She briefly met his eyes when he glanced up at her.
She was sure he could see the panic written across her face.
Riley unfolded his arms and rested his hands on the counter behind him, as though he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.
In through her nose. Out through her mouth.
Again.
Neagley took another step forward until her feet were between his.
He didn't move.
Very slowly, she lifted her arms and reached for him, slipping her hands beneath his arms to wrap them around his middle.
Her hands met against his back.
She hesitated.
Then, carefully, she rested her head against his shoulder.
She knew he could feel her trembling. As much as she wished otherwise, she couldn't control the physical manifestation of her anxiety, her god damned trauma.
Riley wrapped his arms around her, just tightly enough that she could feel his warmth through her Fruity Pebbles shirt, but loosely enough that she could step back whenever she wanted.
He didn't pull her closer.
He didn't say anything.
He just let her hold him.
She wasn't sure how long they stood there before her trembling began to subside.
Slowly, the tension in her shoulders eased. Her breathing steadied, and she found herself relaxing into the embrace, her body settling more comfortably against his.
She had meant to comfort him.
Somewhere along the way, she realized he was comforting her, too.
"Is this okay?"
Her face was turned toward his neck, and she could feel his breath against her forehead as she nodded.
Alive and safe in his arms.
She was okay.
He was okay.
Hesitating for only a second, Neagley lifted her head slightly to look at him, feeling him go still beside her.
"Am I doing it right?"
Riley looked at her quizzically.
"Doing what right?"
"Hugging."
"Oh my god."
She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, laughing into his neck as he squeezed her a little tighter.
Just briefly.
Then he relaxed his arms again and rested his head against hers.
"Thank you."