They weren't immune to the nightmares that were going around. Quentin's nightmare on Tuesday night was one he wished his boyfriend would never have to have again. He'd cuddled and comforted him, doing his best to take off some of the edge, but he knew how deeply it affected Q. For that reason alone he wished this place would fuck off and stop messing with them. It wasn't right.
He and Quentin had spent nearly every moment aside from work together the last week. Eliot had had a nightmare Sunday night, but he'd told no one. It was about the monster and Quentin didn't need to hear about it or deal with it. He wouldn't put that on him. After that there had been none and he'd hoped that would be the only one to invade his sleep. So far, it seemed to be the case.
Eliot looked down at Luna who had curled up on his chest and then over to Quentin who was snuggled in next to him in bed. "I think she knows weird shit has been going on. She was practically your shadow the last few days." He petted the kitten then looked over at Quentin again. "I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday. I'm ready for this week to be over."
After having had his own nightmare, Quentin hadn’t been able to sleep very well. He tried, and having his boyfriend’s arms around him did help, but he was still only just barely sleeping. Mostly because he was so worried about Eliot. The other man’s mind had plenty of nightmare fuel to pull from. It just made him feel all the more protective and he was only willing to be apart when they had to be at work. He knew that it was silly, nightmares would only happen when they were sleeping. In theory. It was the in theory part that worried him when they were apart.
Thankfully his dreams since Tuesday had been of the more normal variety and the closest he’d come to having a nightmare involved showing up at a party naked. That dream had quickly turned into a much more pleasant set of scenarios involving Eliot and several positions he was sure he could never get into when he was awake. Though he would gladly try them if Eliot asked.
“She’s a good kitty and she loves us.” He reached out and scratched under her chin then rubbed her ears the way she liked. “My spoiled little princess.” He smiled at her then looked up at Eliot. “You and me both, man. I mean normally I kinda like this weather, but of course whoever controls things around here had to try to ruin it for me.” He settled his head against his chest again and draped an arm across Eliot’s waist. “Just means the next time we have a rainy, gray day we’re gonna have to make sure we do plenty of cuddling and…well other things.” He let his fingers trace lightly along the man’s side and turned his head to kiss his shoulder before he got settled again. “Night, my love.”
“She’s the best.” She was always a great comfort to him when life was going sideways which showed no signs of slowing down in this place. He felt the same about the weather, but nightmares needed to go. Hopefully sooner rather than later. “I’m all for that. Light a few candles, lose all our clothes and let our body’s talk to each other.” He grinned then leaned over to kiss Quentin. “Goodnight, beautiful.” May we both have peaceful dreams.
Eliot recognized the voice and knew what its tone meant, his father was unhappy. Before he could utter a word a hand came crashing down on his cheek, sending throbbing pain to that side of his face and knocking him backwards onto the floor. In the waking world he twitched not yet too deep in the dream. It was the familiar sound of a buckle and it sliding out that had him on his feet, hands pushed out to try and protect himself as the leather belt began licking at him. He turned to run, but his father caught him and threw him to the floor. The belt rained down over him mercilessly. Don’t be such a sissy! You’re a disgrace to the family, Eliot!” His fathers voice boomed. The words were familiar and hurt, but it was the buckle striking him that had him crying out and tears flowing. “No! Stop! No!!” Eliot wasn’t fully awake as he yelled his hands flailing and pushing at Quentin who had his arm around him lying on his chest. His body twisted and turned to get away from the pain that racked it in his dream. “NO!” he shouted out loud, sitting straight up and looking all around as his heart thundered in his chest. He didn’t realize it but tears were streaming down his cheek.
Quentin was thankfully sleeping peacefully, and if he was dreaming it was not a bad one so that was a good thing. At least until he heard Eliot cry out in his sleep. He was this side of waking up when he felt him begin to flail under his arm and he was shoved away. “What the….” He sat up just as Eliot did and looked over at him. fuck. He reached a tentative hand out to gently rub circles on the man’s back as he spoke softly, soothingly to him. “Hey…El…” Then he saw the tears and shifted closer so he could reach up and wipe them away with his free hand. “Wake up, love…it’s just a dream. I’m right here. You’re safe.” HE knew the words might not help, but maybe the tone of his voice would at least be enough to help soothe him until he could talk about it. Or at least get far enough out of the nightmare to want to lay back down again.
Eliot breathed heavily, eyes darting around the room as if his father would creep out of a dark corner or out from under the bed. He was still in a bit of a dream fog when Quentin spoke and he turned to look at him. He was awake. His dad was nowhere in sight. Still, that fear was there. The fading pain that came with each beating. He all but threw himself at Quentin, burying his head in his chest and right there, Eliot cried. For his lost childhood, for the father who should have protected him (and mother), for being made to feel worthless.
He only let a few sobs escape before they became more quiet. “I hate him so much,” he said, a slight edge of anger in his voice. Eliot rarely talked about his dad (if at all or his family. Only two knew why and one was holding him. He took a shuddering breath. It had been many years since he’d dreamed of the man and it was never pleasant.
That look in Eliot’s eyes broke his heart and all Quentin wanted to do was wrap him up and hold him until it all went away. He wanted to make sure that he felt nothing but safe and loved, because that’s what his man deserved. He was thankfully expecting Eliot to lean into him and he managed not to topple backwards when he did. He shifted to wrap his arms around him and kissed his temple. He let him cry it all out, one hand moving up to gently comb through those soft curls. He began to hum softly, mostly because he didn’t know all of the words. He just remembered enough of them to know what the song was about. It was the sobs that really cemented his complete hatred for the man who had donated half of the genetic material that had become one of the best men Quentin had ever known.
Once he spoke again Quentin just nodded. “I know, my love. I won’t let him ever get near you again.” Was the man even in this universe? He didn’t know, he hoped not. But if he was Quentin would make sure he couldn’t hurt Eliot. EVER. AGAIN. He carefully shifted them back down onto the bed and then shifted enough so that he was comfortable with Eliot held against his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Eliot let out another shaky breath, soaking up the warmth and protection from Quentin. The song his boyfriend hummed was like a balm to his weary body and soul. It comforted him. Quentin of all people knew the most when it came to his dad. That protection, like a mama bear with her cubs went through him and finally he started to relax a little. He shifted with the other man and clung to him as they laid down. In some part of his brain the fear was still there and would probably hang around for a little while. Not that he would let the man he called father get to him, but he knew it wasn’t always easily shaken.
Did he want to talk about it? Eliot had to think about that. It might help. Or it could trigger him. Or it might help. “H…He was beating with his belt,” he began then paused. “Calling me a disgrace to the family.” That was rich. He who beat his child had the balls to call Eliot a disgrace. He never understood that and never would. “It was so real, like I was actually there feeling each hit of it, hearing the disgust in his voice. I don’t understand, Q. I tried so hard to be good, to be his good son, but I was never good enough and he made sure I knew.” He closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of Quentin’s heartbeat. “Just hold me and don’t leave.”
He could feel him begin to relax and was hopeful that the song helped at least a little bit. One of these days he should learn the actual lyrics, and maybe try to sing. Or not. He just knew that the song perfectly expressed how he felt about Eliot. He’d do anything to keep the man safe and knowing how much he was loved. He tightened his hold when Eliot began to talk about the dream. Yup. That man needed to be kept as far away from Eliot as was humanly or magically possible. The seam sounded like a good place for him.
He shook his head gently and brought his hand back up to gently massage the man’s scalp once he stopped talking. It was just like his own nightmare. Everything felt so much more concrete and intense than usual. “You are good, Eliot. You are one of the best men I’ve ever known and no one will ever convince me otherwise.” He kissed his temple again. How anyone could say such things to anyone was beyond him. How anyone could say those things to their own child? That person didn’t deserve children. He smiled softly and leaned in to whisper. “How could I leave? You’re my heart. I belong to you. Forever.”
Just like that tears rose in Eliot’s eyes again. Not because of the nightmare, but because of the care and love Q was showing him. The way he was taking care of him when he needed it most. He lifted his head to look at Quentin. “Always and forever. You’re mine, I’m yours. I love you.” He nuzzled against him, breathing him in before settling once more. He doubted he would sleep much if any, but he was safe in the arms of Quentin and that’s all that mattered to him.