Sandwiched between his little brother and Stephan, Jake didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He felt like he was cradling the devil in his arms while a pervert was molesting him from behind. Not exactly what he'd call a pleasant sensation.
To think that Jake had wanted to keep his distance from Tristan for the next few days and compose himself before facing him again… But, of course, the kid just had to pop up in his bedroom tonight. He thought of sending him back to his room, but when he looked at the boy's hopeful eyes, he couldn't muster the strength to kick him out. Before he could comprehend what he was doing, he had already yielded and opened his arms to welcome the kid. Tristan bolted to his chest and comfortably nestled against him, his childish giggles echoing within the room.
At least, one of them was happy.
Then, there was Stephan, who stuck to his back like a leech. Even when Jake pinched his wrists, the man didn't so much as flinch. No, he stubbornly wrapped his arms around his waist like an octopus. Jake tried to kick him and push him farther away, only for Stephan to laugh and whisper in his ear that he'd fall off the bed if he continued to wriggle like a worm. He was sticking to him because he didn't have a choice; that was all—no need to make a fuss.
Bullshit!
A thousand curses flew through his mind, and another thousand ways of disposing of a corpse flashed by. But this had the merit of distracting him from the kid in his arms. Although Jake had told the other Tristan that his little brother wasn't him, it was still hard not to think about what he went through in his past lives when the boy was hugging him. Even if it was his younger self, Tristan shared the same facial features as his tormentor. He had the same peach blossom eyes, chocolate iris, and fluffy, curly hair. Some faint freckles were slowly dawning on his pale skin, and the baby fat on his cheeks was disappearing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Bit by bit, he was growing up and looking more like his adolescent self.
Was it when his brother was fourteen that he started to wreck his life? Or was it when he was fifteen? Jake didn't remember well.
His mind was about to wander to the past when Jake felt warm, moist lips pressed against the nap of his neck. He froze, and the memories that had just surfaced were instantly buried back to where they had come from. Instead, he could not help but be reminded of how Stephan had been nibbling and gnawing on his neck earlier. This guy must have been a dog in another life, and one heck of a foolish dog.
"Stephan!" Jake growled lowly. "Behave, or I'm kicking you out!"
"What is he doing?" Tristan asked in a drowsy voice, his eyelids struggling to open. "Is he being mean to you?"
"No, he's just taking too much space." Jake was angered into laughing. "And I think a big, ugly bug is trying to bite my neck again. Maybe I should ask him to smash it for me?"
A faint chuckle resounded, and Jake glared at Gabriel's shadow over Tristan's head. He was definitely having fun at his expense. Instead of laughing, couldn't he do something about that best friend of his?! That guy was shameless enough to seize the opportunity to take advantage of him, his dirty paws all over his waist!
Jake felt his mouth twitch as he said, "How about we switch places, Gaby?"
"Sorry, but I'm quite comfortable where I am."
"I can switch places with you if you want!" Tristan suggested. "I'm small, but I can still protect you from bugs!"
'Oh child, please never change!' Jake silently sighed before hugging his little brother tighter. "It's fine. I think you scared the bug away before it could bite me. Let's just sleep."
As he talked his brother into sleeping, Jake elbowed Stephan in his ribs before twisting his neck to glare at the man. Yet, the moment he laid his eye on Stephan, he forgot what he was about to do, and his whole body stiffened.
The moonlight cast pale rays through the window, illuminating Stephan's face enough for Jake to catch a glimpse of the tender look softening his eyes. Only then did he realize Stephan had been purposely pestering him, throwing today's events at the back of his mind. He was so distracted by his antics that he didn't even shudder as he held his biggest fear in his arms.
Jake was suddenly all too aware of the warmth enveloping his back. He scoffed and let his head fall on the pillow. This time, he didn't complain when Stephan snuggled against him and held him tighter, closing his eye instead.
***
Faint snores echoed within the otherwise silent bedroom. Jake intently listened to the sound, thinking of a thousand things to keep himself awake. Tristan's cold, mocking words were still ringing in his mind, just like a curse, and he could not find it himself to ignore them.
"I wonder how often he wakes at night, crying and wailing."
What on earth did he mean by that? His little brother was always happily smiling in the morning, so how could he have been bawling his eyes out at night? Simply thinking about it seemed foolish. But what if, and only what if, these words hid a hint of truth?
Jake could not get these thoughts out of his head. His heart was unsettled, so why not pull an all-nighter to put his mind at ease? Whether Tristan's words were said only to mess up with him, he had nothing to lose by not sleeping for a night.
So, he waited, and time passed slowly.
At around midnight, the boy in his arms jolted. His breathing became ragged as small whines escaped his mouth. Jake lowered his gaze and saw tears glistening at the corners of the child's eyes; they were particularly striking under the moonlight. An expression of agonizing pain and fury contorted his delicate facial features into something hideous.
Was he having a nightmare….?
Tristan's eyelids twitched, his eyebrows knitted. Noticing he was about to wake up, Jake quickly closed his eye, pretending to be asleep. He clenched his jaw tight, fighting the urge to comfort the child. He had to wait and see what would unfold before doing anything. It wouldn't be too late to hug the boy afterward and soothe him with calming words.
A loud gasp left Tristan's mouth as he propped himself up like a lightning bolt. Not even a second later, Jake felt tiny hands probing around before stilling on his face. They lingered on his cheeks as Tristan pressed an ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He stayed still in this position for a minute before heaving a sigh of relief.
"It's OK. Everything's OK," the childish voice said, cracking. "Brother is alright; he's not hurt. Everything's OK."
The shaky hands descended to grip Jake's shirt. Then, Tristan pressed his forehead against his chest and repeated weakly, "Brother is not hurt. He's not."
Muffled sobs followed. They were barely audible, but they reverberated like thunder in Jake's ears. The other Tristan's words hadn't been a lie. His little brother indeed woke in the middle of the night to cry. But why? He seemed to have dreamed of his older brother being hurt, almost frightening him into hyperventilating. Just how atrocious had his injuries been in his dream?
Before his brain could process what he was doing, Jake felt his arm move. He stroked his brother's back and asked softly, "Did you have a nightmare?"
As soon as he heard his voice, Tristan tensed. He was like a kitten who had been caught red-handed doing something it shouldn't, his whole body getting ready to sprint. Jake didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He thought he was being gentle, but his brother appeared to have been scared witless regardless. Was he really that bad at comforting people? It had always been his wife who consoled their children since he wasn't good with words, thanks to his horrible upbringing. So he honestly couldn't tell if he was doing this right.
"Don't worry," he said in a coaxing voice, "I'm here and in good health."
"You… you are?"
"Yes, I am," he repeated in a firm voice. Yet, Tristan was unconvinced. "If you don't believe me, do you want to verify if I'm injured anywhere?"
Tristan bit his lips before nodding. He peered at his brother's face and once again stretched his hands, touching every part of Jake's body he could reach. He tentatively patted his chest and arms as if afraid to hurt him, then peered at his empty eye. When Jake slept, he took off the eye patch and put it on the nightstand. Although Stephan carefully crafted it and made it as comfortable as possible, the strings were still annoying when he laid his head on the pillow, pulling at his hair.
"Does it hurt…?"
"No," Jake shook his head, understanding Tristan was talking about the empty eye socket. "It had long stopped hurting."
"And was it… was it very painful when, when…."
"What's with those questions? What did you dream about to be so scared?"
"I don't want to tell you. I don't want to remember it."
"But maybe if you told me about it, you would feel better?" Jake continued to coax, still stroking the kid's back. "Nightmares can haunt you for a long time. If you share them with me, I can help you see how absurd they are and how they could never be real."
"Really?"
"Really."
And yet, when Tristan told him what he dreamed about, Jake could no longer say the dreams that plagued his nights could never, ever happen.
___________
Edited by Clozed! ♥
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