Jason didn't sleep.
He regarded himself as resting...sitting on the edge of the bed, back against the headboard, eyes closed...but his body never crossed that fragile border where thoughts loosened and control slipped. He stayed alert, breathing shallowly, counting the rise and fall of the man beside him like a vital sign.
The man lay on his side, blanket pulled up to his waist, shoulders bare. The glow beneath his skin had faded to a low, intermittent shimmer, barely visible in the dim room, like embers buried under ash. His breathing was slow but deliberate, measured in a way that made Jason uneasy.
Too controlled.
Jason shifted slightly, careful not to jostle the mattress. The apartment felt different at night. The walls held sound instead of echoing it. The refrigerator hummed too loudly. Pipes ticked with temperature changes. Even the city noise outside...distant engines, a barking dog, the occasional siren...pressed in through the windows like an unwanted presence.
The man stirred.
Jason straightened instantly.
The man's brow creased, muscles along his jaw tightening. His fingers curled against the sheet, knuckles whitening as if he were bracing for impact.
"It's okay," Jason whispered, keeping his voice low. "You're safe."
The man's eyes snapped open.
They were sharp, focused, scanning the room in rapid sequence...door, window, ceiling, shadows. His chest rose faster now, breath pulling deep and quick.
The air thickened.
Jason felt it first as pressure behind his eyes, then as a subtle vibration through the floor, like a train passing beneath the building. The lamp on the nightstand flickered once.
"Marco," Jason said gently. He hadn't planned to use the name yet. It slipped out instinctively, the way one called for another person without thinking.
The man froze.
His gaze locked onto Jason's face.
The pressure eased slightly.
Jason slid closer, sitting cross-legged on the bed so he could be seen clearly. "You're here," he said. "With me. Nothing's happening."
The man swallowed hard. His gaze dropped to his hands, then lifted again, restless.
A car backfired outside.
The reaction was immediate.
The man bolted upright, movement fluid and violent. The tattoos flared beneath his skin, light racing along his arms and chest in sharp, angular patterns. The lamp shattered, glass spraying across the floor. The window rattled in its frame.
"Hey!" Jason lunged forward without thinking, grabbing the man's forearms. "Look at me!"
The contact burned...not painfully, but intensely, like touching a live wire wrapped in warm skin. Jason grit his teeth and held on.
"Hey man," he said firmly. "Focus on my voice."
The man's breath hitched. His hands trembled where Jason held them, strength restrained by sheer effort.
The glow pulsed once.
Then dimmed.
The vibration subsided. The air lightened, like lungs finally able to expand.
The man sagged forward, forehead pressing against Jason's shoulder.
Jason exhaled shakily and wrapped his arms around him, holding on like letting go would shatter them both. "It's alright," he murmured. "I've got you."
The man's hands fisted in the fabric of Jason's shirt, grip tight enough to hurt.
Jason didn't pull away.
They stayed like that for a long moment, Jason's heart hammering against the man's chest, both of them breathing through the aftermath.
When the man finally pulled back, his expression was tight with shame.
Jason cupped the back of his neck without asking, thumb resting against warm skin. "That wasn't your fault."
The man looked away.
Jason sighed softly. "You hear sounds differently, don't you?"
The man hesitated, then nodded.
"Louder?" Jason asked.
Another nod. Sharper this time.
"Closer," Jason added. "Like they're happening to you instead of around you."
The man's eyes flicked back to him. He nodded again.
Jason swallowed. "Okay."
He glanced at the broken lamp, glass scattered like ice across the floor. "We'll deal with that later."
The man followed his gaze, then looked stricken, gesturing urgently at the mess.
"Hey," Jason said quickly. "I don't care about the lamp."
The man's hand hovered uncertainly before settling against Jason's arm.
Jason offered a small smile. "See? No yelling. No running."
The man watched him closely, as if waiting for the lie to reveal itself.
It didn't.
Jason shifted, easing Marco back against the pillows. "Try to lie down again," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."
The man hesitated. Then, slowly, he did as asked.
Jason remained seated beside him, one hand resting lightly on the man's forearm. He felt the faint hum beneath the skin, a quiet resonance that hadn't been there with anyone else in his life.
"You don't sleep much, do you?" Jason asked.
The man shook his head.
"Bad dreams?"
A pause. Then a nod.
Jason leaned back against the headboard, keeping contact. "You don't have to sleep if you don't want to," he said. "We can just sit here."
The man studied him, eyes searching. He lifted a hand and pointed at Jason's face, then tapped his own temple, questioning.
Jason considered his answer carefully. "Because I know what it's like," he said finally. "To be awake when the world feels unsafe."
The man's brow furrowed.
Jason shrugged faintly. "Different reasons. Same feeling."
The man's gaze softened.
Time passed in small increments. Jason didn't check the clock. He focused on breathing, on the weight of the man's arm against his thigh, on the slow return of quiet to the apartment.
Just as his shoulders began to loosen, his phone vibrated on the nightstand.
The man stiffened instantly.
Jason reached for it with his free hand, silencing it before the second vibration could sound. "It's nothing," he said quickly. "Just a message."
The man didn't relax.
Jason cursed inwardly. "Okay," he said, changing tactics. "It's work."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Not hospital work," Jason added. "The other kind."
Recognition flickered. The man's posture shifted subtly, alertness sharpening into readiness.
"No," Jason said immediately. "You don't need to do anything."
The man shook his head, expression firm.
Jason sighed. "I know you can protect me. That's not the point."
He waited until the man met his gaze. "I don't want you carrying that weight."
The man stared at him, jaw tight.
Jason softened his voice. "Not here."
The phone buzzed again, longer this time.
Jason picked it up and read the message.
We saw you leave.
His stomach dropped.
Jason didn't look away from the man. "I need to make a call," he said calmly. "I'll be right here."
The man caught his wrist.
Jason paused. "I won't leave," he promised.
The Man searched his face, then released him reluctantly.
Jason stepped into the kitchen, lowering his voice as he answered. "What do you want?"
A chuckle crackled through the speaker. "You know why I'm calling."
"You don't know what I have," Jason said.
"Oh, Doc," the voice replied. "We know exactly what you have."
Jason's grip tightened on the phone. "Stay away from my building."
Another laugh. "That depends."
Jason ended the call and leaned against the counter, heart racing.
He returned to the bedroom to find the Man standing beside the bed, body tense, eyes fixed on the door.
"They're not coming tonight," Jason said quickly.
The man looked at him, unconvinced.
Jason crossed the room and placed both hands on The Man's shoulders. "I need you to trust me."
The Man hesitated, then nodded once.
Jason guided him back to the bed. "Lie down."
The Man obeyed.
Jason settled beside him this time, back against the headboard, shoulder pressed to The Man's. "Try," he said softly. "Just close your eyes."
The Man's lashes fluttered.
The building creaked. A distant elevator whined.
Marco's breathing hitched.
Jason wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer without thinking. "I'm here," he murmured. "You're not alone."
The Man's body relaxed incrementally, tension bleeding out of him like air from a punctured seal.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The Man's breathing deepened, evening out.
Jason looked down and realized...slowly, carefully....that the Man had fallen asleep.
Jason didn't move.
He stayed awake, eyes open, listening to every sound the city made, guarding the man who could tear the world apart in his sleep.
Outside, a car idled too long.
Jason's gaze shifted to the window.
Inside, the man stirred faintly, pressing closer.
Jason tightened his hold.
Whatever was coming...
...it wouldn't reach him tonight.