At the sound of Clio stirring, Will rolled over in bed, curving his body toward hers. The hands that reached for his were damp with cold sweat – another nightmare, he could hear it in her uneven breaths, feel it in the way she clung to him. He swallowed the rising bile; it tasted of guilt now. She didn't need him falling apart on her, not now; for God's sake, if there was anyone who had reason to be losing sleep, it was her.
He let her hold onto him as tight as she needed, reaching his free hand across to smooth the hair from her forehead and trace the curve of her cheek. "I'm here, love," he murmured.