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Tharkay resented, more than any other sequelae from his mistreatment during the long years of war, the nightmares that remained a torment: dark caves and isolation and pain, and then numbing, bone-aching cold. During the day, he could maintain a distance from the horrors he'd witnessed - indeed, his experiences in China and Russia were hardly the worst thing he'd seen in the last ten years - but his unconscious mind was far from sanguine and had a tendency to dwell that he found himself not wholly surprised by.
He was accustomed to nightmares, yes, but these were no ordinary nightmares, easily dismissed with a lit candle and perhaps a cup of tea; he woke, night after night, his heart pounding in his chest, uncertain in the dark of the room where he might be, suppressing an unconscious cry of horror, and entirely unable to calm himself.
He had hoped, after their first night, as promising as it was, that Will's presence would be enough to continue to deter them. But the very next night, he had been shocked awake by his own mind once more, a scream in his throat-
A hand gripping his-
"Do not touch me!" Tharkay hissed, shoving the shadowed figure away from him in the split second before he recognised Will's touch, always so gentle despite the years of callouses that roughened the skin of his fingers and palm. "I- I do apologise, Will- you are not hurt?"
"No, no, Tenzing, I am well. Only-" Will paused, and as Tharkay's eyes adapted to the light he could see the awkward manner in which he held himself, knocked back on his elbows by the force of Tharkay's push. "You were crying."
Tharkay bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. "It is nothing, Will - go back to sleep." He made to rise, his back now to Will, and Will lurched forward in an abortive motion, as if to stop him before remembering his command.
"Tenzing- wait a moment, please. Let me come with you; you are shaking rather badly."
He was, too, he noticed with no small amount of shame, his hand trembling even as it clutched at the bedpost behind him. "I would rather you not; it is very late, and I should not like to disturb the sleep of anyone else." He should have rather not disturbed Will's sleep, either, but at the very least he could allow him to return to it; there were other places he could doze for a few hours, excuses that could be made to keep Will from staying further nights.
Will made a strange sound in the back of his throat. "Obstinate man," Tharkay thought he heard him say. The bed creaked, and he felt the sudden warmth of bare skin near his own. "May I, my dear?" Will asked, his voice low and gentle, and- He so rarely asked for anything that Tharkay nodded before he was aware he had made the decision.
The first jolt of sensation - the wiry coarseness of chest hair against his back, the soft warmth of strong arms gently wrapping around him - made him flinch, but the familiar scent of Will did an admirable job of steadying his mind, and he quickly found himself sagging back into the embrace. "Is it too cold?" Will asked once Tharkay's breathing had slowed to a more usual pace. "I could light a fire."
Tharkay let his head loll back against Will's shoulder, fatigue overtaking him as the mortal terror faded. "You are plenty warm, Will, do not stir," he said, pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to the corner of Will's jaw.
Will hummed, the sound reverberating through Tharkay's chest, and shifted them back and around till they lay on their sides, Tharkay's back still pressed to Will's front. "Only if you will not, dearest," he said, his voice roughened with the same sleep that was washing over Tharkay.