Page 32 of New Year

“I’m glad I was here, and I mean that. Everyone has bad dreams, but not everyone has the kind of screaming nightmare that you wake up from and just need someone to hold onto. To tell you you’re awake and everything is okay.”

“Yeah.” Nat rested his forehead on his folded arms, which obscured his face.

Zack didn’t have enough experience with this to know exactly which course of action to take. Or what was best to say to someone still so clearly affected by a product of their sleeping mind. “I want to be your friend, Nat, so tell me what you need from me right now. How can I make this better?”

His entire body seemed to flinch. “I’m scared to ask.”

“You don’t have to be scared to ask me for something. Have I done anything in the two weeks you’ve lived here to scare you? Or show you can’t trust me?”

“No.” Nat raised his head. His eyes glistened with tears. “Can you, um…can I have a hug?”

Zack’s heart soared with joy over Nat trusting him enough to ask for physical comfort, as well as Nat voicing his needs, when Nat was very much an independent person. “Of course, you can have a hug.” Instead of making Nat come to him, Zack rose and circled the bed to his side. Sat angled toward Nat, left leg on the bed and bent so his ankle was tucked under his right leg. He spread both arms slightly to each side, and waited.

Nat slowly unfolded his long limbs and scooted closer, eyeballing Zack like he was debating the best position. He twisted around, rose up on his knees, and wrapped his arms around Zack’s neck. Zack slid his hands across Nat’s ribs to rest on his back, unsure of this awkward position where their bodies barely touched. Then Nat practically sat on his lap, mashing their bodies together, and pressed his face into Zack’s neck.

Zack’s chest heated, and he cinched his arms tighter around Nat, palms rubbing gentle circles over his thin t-shirt. Nat’s scent filled his nostrils, simple soap and deodorant and a slight tinge of his own personal musk. He could feel Nat’s racing heartbeat against his own, and he hoped it was from the lingering nightmare and no fear of Zack. No fear Zack would read too deeply into this hug and do something awful.

He held on tight and didn’t want to let go.

Nat was not used to anyone being there to wake him from a nightmare, much less offer comfort afterward. He’d suffered from horrible, traumatic nightmares since he was a child, and surviving Austin had only made them worse. Austin had often made fun of Nat for thrashing in his sleep, and sometimes even kicked him out of bed for disturbing Austin’s rest. He’d never wanted to listen, comfort or console. The horrors in Nat’s head never mattered to Austin.

They mattered to Zack.

Nat had collapsed under the weight of his own misery and fear and need for simple human contact, and he couldn’t let Zack go. He absorbed the strength radiating from the older man and soaked in the affection behind the embrace. It was everything he’d ever wanted, and absolutely everything he needed in that moment.

They sat together for a long time, Zack’s hands gently petting, his breathing a steady cadence that helped Nat relax. Truly relax for the first time in ages. And to trust that he was safe here. Safe enough to let his guard down a little.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for being someone I can trust. I haven’t had that in a long fucking time.”

“It’s my pleasure, Nat. Friends take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“And I hate to be that person, but my leg is falling asleep.”

Nat yelped softly and climbed off Zack’s lap. Zack scooted farther onto the bed, so he could untuck his left leg and stretch it out straight in front of him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. The pins and needles are absolutely worth it.” Zack’s gentle smile reinforced his words. “Did it help?”

“The hug? So much.” Nat wanted to crawl closer and wrap himself back up in Zack’s strong, comforting arms. He also didn’t want to take advantage of Zack’s generous nature, or to cause ill will between them. “I hate those nightmares.”

“Do you have the same one?”

“Mostly. I think some of the details change, but it’s mostly the same dream. Nightmare, whatever.”

“Would you like to tell me about it? The nightmare?”

Nat grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to his chest, needing that pressure. Needing the simulation of a hug while he sorted through his tumbling thoughts. So far, Zack had been insanely respectful of Nat’s limits, never prying into his past or his many demons. And this wasn’t prying, but there were a fuck ton of demons in Nat’s past. Not just Austin and the many men Nat had experienced because of Austin, but also Nat’s childhood.

His mother.

Nat’s heart started pounding so hard he expected Zack to hear its rising volume. “The premise that I can remember is me in a hospital bed. I’m strapped down, can’t move. There’s this tube that goes right into my stomach to feed me.” He licked his dry lips but had little spit to wet them with. “Then a nurse comes in wearing a mask over their mouth. I can’t really tell who they are. They inject something into the tube. It burns my stomach. Then my chest. Then my whole body. I’m convulsing and begging them do something, to fix it, but they don’t.”

Nat rubbed at his stinging eyes, then looked at Zack. “They start laughing like it’s a great big joke. And then they pull the mask down so I see who they are.”

When Nat didn’t continue for a long, painful time, the words stuck in his clogged throat, Zack asked, “Who is it usually?”

“My mother.”

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