Thinking about comforting VAE Saeran with cuddles after he wakes up from a nightmare so horrible it pulled Ray out of the front and left him horrified in panic too (could be maid AU or could not be but you know me)
It felt like there was a weight on his chest.
An impossible weight that wouldn't go away no matter how much he tried to claw at his skin. Like a pillar, a support beam, concrete that'd nearly been the death of them but also had been the reason why they hadn't died. Neither Ray nor Saeran died that night even though that was what they set out to do when they pressed the button. They lived through that night, and the days following it, clinging to the idea that something would put them out of their memory.
Nothing ever did, though. Rather, in the heat of dust and ash, a man extended his hand and dug them out of the dirt to ensure they lived. They had been upset at him, bitter and angry that he would come to save them after they'd already been destroyed beyond repair, but he promised a better life if they gave him a chance.
They took that chance, but they didn't know taking it wouldn't change the pain that came from living after a nightmare. That nightmare was their reality every time they closed their eyes! It wouldn't go away, it wouldn't stop, and it wouldn't let them get restful sleep.
Burn, burn, burn, that nightmare growled. You're on fire!
These memories jolted Ray awake every night until he threw himself out of bed. Normally, that would pull them out of the flashback, but for some reason, this time was different. This time was worse. Saeran felt every last inch of the flames stroke his sensitive skin like a gust of pollen chasing after someone with an allergy. Angry hives tingled and hissed whenever something touched his skin.
His clothes, the air, the blanket, the bed, the dirt, the hardwood floor, the melted PC and all its parts creeping across the—
It felt like he was there again.
The scars from that night hadn't disappeared. They burrowed deeper and deeper inside of his chest until he could no longer distinguish his reality from fiction. Night time was the worst because Ray could feel the smoke begin to creep up his throat and singe his skin, screaming until he could no longer remember the sound of his voice, and when he could no longer withstand the memory that danced between past and present?
Saeran stepped in to spare him the pain. But, there was no one who could do the same for him. He was a protector, he was supposed to be strong, and here he was, gasping for air as he wondered if he was trapped in a burning building or in a bedroom with someone who had nothing but love in their heart for both him and Ray.
It felt like he was going to die.
Wilting away just like a dying flower in an abandoned garden with no gardener left to save him.
I don't want to die! Saeran's mind pleaded with itself. I don't want Ray to die, either! I don't want us to die! Don't leave us here to die! I need to survive so I can make him happy! I need—
"Saeran," a voice whispered his name. He couldn't tell where it came from, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and see the blue sky taunting him. It taunted him for hours as he wondered if that God they once heard about would stop mocking them with a Hell that felt personally catered to them. A sky they could never touch as they lay in agonizing pain.
Make it stop... make it stop...!
"Saeran, can you hear me?"
Something touched his shoulder and he yanked his body away from the source. He winced at the static that came with it, but it was just enough to make him open his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the dark room, he realized he wasn't sitting in a pile of rubble, but he wasn't in the bedroom, either.
I'm not... lying in the dirt?
He was in a living room. His back was propped up against a couch and the faint smell of ash still choked his lungs as he sucked in a hot breath. He noticed a fireplace in the corner of the room, and a giant patch of water spread across the floor as if someone doused the fire not long ago. His heart continued to surge against his ribs even as his eyes settled on a vision of someone who normally brought him peace and security.
Your concerned eyes were on him but you had placed your hands in your lap where he could see them and know that they wouldn't try to touch him again.
Not Mint Eye.
Somewhere else.
Where?
"Where...?"
"Saeyoung's cabin," you answered, slowly and clearly so as not to make him feel any more confused. "He offered to let us stay here for the weekend so you could enjoy the fresh snow."
"No, I'm... I'm not... I'm supposed to be..." he trailed. He was supposed to be in the rubble of Mint Eye where nobody could ever find him. He wasn't free from that place. They were meant to die there. That was a fact he felt to be certain when he woke up. But, if he was there, there wouldn't be a chance in hell you would be there.
He hadn't met you until after the explosion. He wouldn't go anywhere his brother frequented unless he had forgiven him... unless there had been a change in his world that made him see different from what his liar of a Savior told him. He couldn't be in that wretched building, nor could Ray... not as long as he sat in this room with you.
How could his body betray him when he was the one who always brought Ray out of the memory?
How could his mind betray him and leave him in a blurry haze where nothing felt right?
How could he not be strong enough?
"I'm scared," he eventually admitted.
Your gentle eyes didn't leave his. "What can I do for you, honey pie? It doesn't matter what it is, even if you can only think of one word to ask for it. I'm here for you."
What did he want?
"Hold me," he whispered. The agonizing itch was still there but the thought of your touch didn't sound repulsive. It sounded better than the alternative. He didn't want the pressure of the pillar to eat him alive. If he had to be crushed, he wanted it to be in your arms instead. "I need you to hold me."
So, with open arms, you pulled him against your chest and he buried his face against your chest in the hopes of finding a firm heartbeat to confirm this wasn't a dream. It couldn't be a dream if you felt warm. A dream would never let him know someone's warmth when all he ever felt was the flames. Flames were nothing compared to a tender touch born of love.
Thump, thump, thump...
It felt alive in ways he didn't.
Neither he nor Ray had told you what happened to them in detail, but there would come a day when they would have to do it.
"I've got you," you said. "I don't know what frightened you so much... but I promise I'll hold you as long as you want me to. You don't have to be afraid alone... neither of you have to be. Not Ray, and not you, Saeran."
At least, he had the peace of mind of knowing you would love them all the same.
Summary: It's hard to rebuild your life from scratch when you thought you could never look ahead with any hope in your heart again. Natasha could never fully grasp all the hardships that Ray had to fight through in the two years they have spent apart, unknowing of each other's lives. But she was determined to never stray from his path again.
Notes: For day 5 of Mystictober: Rain! ~ 2.7k words. Hurt/comfort. Depiction of a PTSD episode.
Credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics, picrew used for header - here!
It rained a lot this Fall. Summer didn't linger for too long, taking its warmth and clear skies with it almost as soon as its last days on a calendar have come to their end. Natasha didn't mind the cooler weather or the gray clouds above. Truth be told, she didn't pay much attention to the seasons before she met Ray. Ray, who could discover beauty even in the most ordinary of days. She didn't realize she was taking something as simple as a walk to work for granted until she found herself stuck in a windowless room staring at computer screens day in and day out.
It was only seven months for her. But for Ray, it was all he's ever known. She was so saddened by that thought. It used to choke her up at night when the regrets of what could have been were at their strongest. She was glad that these regrets were over now that she had been given a second chance, in spite of all the odds. A chance to make good on her promises and not close her heart up ever again.
However, she was aware that Ray had it harder. While her and Saeyoung have battled with their grief for those two years, he had a completely different battle he had to face alone. Naturally, Jihyun and Saeran were there to support him - just like she had Saeyoung - but there were certain things that Ray had to handle on his own in order to achieve his peace.
She knew Ray didn't like rain or thunderstorms. It rained on that life-changing day. She remembered it well. Her eyes repeatedly re-reading over the words on the screen, as if they would change shape if only she wished hard enough, while her ears gradually filled with the static of white noise and the numbing sound of raindrops hitting the window of the hospital room.
She lost him on that day. Unexpectedly, tragically.
It was also raining on the day Rika got kidnapped. Saeyoung's cries of hate and despair alike completely drawing out the storm raging outside the cabin, as if he was a wrathful deity unleashing all of his sorrow and fury onto the earth bellow for everything it took from him. It was scary to see. No, it was even more than scary; it was heart-wrenching. She remembered wishing there was someone who could share in her grief. But on that day, she simply wanted to bear the entire burden of it herself, if only no one else had to suffer the way she saw Saeyoung suffer.
She wondered if it was raining wherever Ray was on those days, too. If he felt some of their grief and shared it with them. She wouldn't be surprised, if so. Even if the thought of that was painful.
Nowadays, with all four of them learning to live together little by little, things weren't tinged with that familiar melancholy of grief that became her normal. However, the scars of the past manifested themselves in awkward silences and nasty words. She knew things wouldn't be easy, even with their miracle of Ray and Saeran returning back into their lives. She did, however, occasionally still find herself wishing she could go back in time. If only to take away the sadness now permanently tinged in Ray's eyes.
She assumed that was why she was so tense today, her fingers tapping nervously over the rim of her teacup. Her pretty much being all by herself with Saeyoung out on some business with Vanderwood also didn't help. The rain outside the windows was pouring down heavily, the weight of the water droplets banging on the roof like a constant reminder of her ever-growing sense of unease. It was not surprising to not see Ray out and about today because he disliked the rain. He'd usually lock himself away in his room and wait it out in his headphones, and her and Saeyoung would leave him to it instead of trying to pull him out outside when he wasn't feeling like it.
But it's been hours and he still hasn't come out even for as little as a glass of water. That wasn't like him. One part of her felt obligated to check on him, and another didn't want to bother him. Still, she sat by and didn't do anything once in the past. She deeply regretted it. Reckless or not, she'd just drive herself stir-crazy sitting this one out.
Si, she rose from the table and promptly hurried up to Ray and Saeran's room with a determined huff. It was the farthest one away, with large windows giving the full view of their backyard. Saeyoung ensured that he could sit there and look up at the sky whenever he wished. But it probably wasn't so pleasant for him right now. After a minute or two of hesitation by the door, she eventually knocked softly to see if it would work.
"...Ray? It's Natasha. I just... wanted to check if you're okay or not. I could bring you some warm tea, if you want?"
No answer.
Natasha frowned. That's unusual. He might be reserved sometimes, but never to the extent of completely disregarding her. She would have thought he was asleep if it wasn't for the rainstorm outside. None of this helped calm her nerves. Barging in on his personal space probably wasn't the nicest thing to do, but if not her, then Saeyoung would do so later.
"I'm... gonna come in unless you tell me no. Is that okay with you?"
No answer.
But that's an answer in and of itself. With a turn of the door handle, she entered the room, squinting slightly since it was darker than she was used to. That in itself wasn't surprising, he'd always cover the windows when it rained, and she knew that darkness helped with his migraines that would come and go every other day. The fact that he wasn't present, however, was surprising. Instead, she could see his bathroom door left slightly open, the only source of light spilling onto the floor from it.
"Ray?" She called out, the worry seeping into her voice despite her attempts to remain composed for his sake, in case he might need some help. She paddled over to the bathroom, paused at the threshold, and decided to softly knock on that door as well. She could hear the sound of running water from the sink, but no other noises whatsoever. Which was concerning as well as just plain odd. She still felt somewhat guilty for just barging in without his say-so, even if she wouldn't turn back, so she tried one last time for good measure: "Is it okay if I come in?"
Still no answer.
She took a deep breath and fully opened the door, eventually entering the small bathroom. Though, she stopped as soon as she did, startled by what she was seeing. Fortunately, Ray was present and appeared to be unharmed, at least physically. But the same certainly couldn't be said for his emotional state, even from a single glance at him. He sat hunched over on the toiled seat, his hands digging into its edges with such force that she could see them shaking slightly.
But what pained her the most was the look on his face. He wasn't in tears. Nor was he screaming or gasping for air. Instead, he resembled a living doll, his eyes so glazed over that they appeared glassy as he stared ahead without moving an inch. It's like he wasn't even here fully. He saw her and heard her, but it's obvious that he didn't really notice she was there at all. Or even the room itself for that matter.
Her heart tightened in her chest. Did he try to handle it by himself? It was a painful thought. But it wasn't important right now. As she took careful steps towards him, she could hear how weak his breathing was, as if his lungs were not getting nearly enough fresh air to get him through it. She kneeled in front of him, not wanting to look down at him like this.
"Ray... Ray, can you hear me? It's me... Natasha. I'm here," she said softly, less out of an attempt to start an actual conversation, and more as a means to just let him hear her voice here with him. To gradually hopefully get him out of this. He may have been quiet, but she could see the anguish going on behind those dull eyes of his. She cautiously leaned over and placed her hands on top of his, her thumbs skimming across his knuckles. They were cold, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Hers, however, were warm.
Slowly, little by little, she managed to get him to let go of the toiled seat, letting her take hold of his hands completely as she brought them to her, still rubbing small circles over his wrists as she did.
"That's it... That's good, that must feel a little bit better, doesn't? I'm right here, do you feel me? Right here in front of you? Can you look at me?" He didn't say anything, but she felt a bittersweet rush of pride in her chest as he shakily switched his attention to her. It's such a small action, but it probably took him a mountain of effort. She exhaled a little in relief, though, because it was a great indication of him doing better than she thought. "Good... That's good, focus on me ok? Focus on the sound of my voice. How about I tell you about that book I finished reading today? I wanted to share it with you for a while now. It's about a princesd that..."
So, she talked. She talked about everything and nothing in particular. What's important is that she didn't stop. As Ray gradually emerged from the mental prison of his own memories, her presence remained unwavering. He didn't have to understand or answer in any way. He simply needed something to draw him out of it. To give him a safety rope to cling on to.
At last, she felt his fingers quiver in her palms, then start to shake, then grab hold of her with what was likely too much force, but she ignored it. She wouldn't let go even if he was to claw at her like a scared wild animal.
"Nat... Natasha...?"
She heaved a small sigh of relief when she met his worn, misty stare. It was far from a joyful sight for sure, but she was just happy to have him back. She gave a nod. "Yes, Ray, it's me. I'm here. We're here. At home."
Our home. Even if the concept was still alien to her, it served as a reminder of his safety.
Keeping one of his hands steady in her grasp, she let go of the other one to reach up and gently stroke some bangs away from his eyes, not minding the cold sweat that was sticking to his forehead. "...Do you want the water faucet to stay on?"
He nodded. She didn't need anything more than that. They sat there for a long while, her silently crouching in front of him as he looked down at her from the toilet seat. She could see that he was trying to mirror her breathing, and so she focused on taking calm, even breaths to help him fill his lungs again. She could see he was fatigued, and who could blame him? Who knows how long he's been frozen up like this, unable to even take a proper breath because of the tendrils of his past slowly crushing him from the inside out.
The thought pained her. Finally, she spoke up, her voice soft and quiet: "Ray... How long have you been like this?"
He looked down, almost ashamed. It pained her further. Squeezing his fingers, she raised his hand to her lips and planted a gentle kiss there, staying for a few seconds. She decided to interject before he could apologize or start beating himself up: "-I think you were very brave to handle it on your own. I'm proud of you. You were very strong."
Maybe she was being a little too coddling, but she couldn't help herself. She heard Ray exhale, his fingers still shaky in her grasp. But then again, he would likely be unsteady and weak like this for some time.
"You're... very sweet, Natasha... But I'm- anything but strong. If just a little bit of rain is enough to make me fall apart... what does it say about me?"
Her heart ached for him. There was truth in his words. She'd be a fool to just discard them as lies. Ray was much more self-aware than most people realized. But it pained her to know how much he was struggling regardless. She gazed up at him again.
"I... can't say that it's pretty or heroic, no... But you... Came into the bathroom to get away from the noise, right?" He nodded yes, his gaze averted. She went on: "And did you turn on the faucet to draw out the noise?"
Another nod. She cupped his cheek tenderly, running her thumb across the rough surface of his healed scar. He didn't look at her, but he didn't scurry away from her touch, either. When he was so tired and unsteady, that was all the permission she needed.
"So you did all you could to get yourself through this. You should be proud of that, Ray."
He huffed, a somewhat sardonic sound. However, it was definitely not meant at her, as evidenced by him leaning into her palm and reaching up to hold it against his skin.
"Yes... and I still failed."
She couldn't say much to that. That being said, she could at least divert his attention.
"Well... then it's good I decided to check on you."
He exhaled a choked little laugh at that, finally meeting her eyes again. He was far from cheerful, even miserable, really, but it was a joy just to have him fully present rather than somewhere terrible and terrifying in the limits of his own memories. After a moment of silence, he spoke again: "It... It was raining. When I woke up."
He didn't need to elaborate on all the gory aspects that now made the rain so challenging for him. She didn't need to hear them, either. She only knew that the rain would drag him back under the rubble, bringing with it all of the agony, terror, and confusion. She couldn't even imagine what that must feel like. To relive your worst moment at any time, with no way out, no matter how hard you try.
With a soft sigh, she leaned up, gently resting her forehead up against his. To let him know she's there. Fully, flesh and bone, not just a ghost. In a way, she too needed this reminder.
"Good thing it's not raining here, then," she whispered, giving him a smile that was both half-hearted and genuinely tender alike. Things weren't going well. And she couldn't tell him otherwise. Sometimes it was difficult, uncomfortable, messy, and even humiliating. But at least he wasn't alone in all this anymore, and neither was she, nor Saeyoung, or even Saeran. They were all marked by different scars from a past that was too harsh to return to. At least they didn't have to carry them alone anymore.
Ray exhaled, a few quiet tears sliding from his lashes onto his cheeks.
"...Yes."
He didn't return her smile, but he didn't need to. When he wasn't feeling well, she didn't need him pretend otherwise for her. She just needed him to let her be there for him when the world got too heavy to make sense of.
