Zane nodded and walked over to the all-weather tent, where he crouched down and unzipped the front with a silent curse. It was difficult for him, seeing Ty like this. Zane didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to relate to what Ty was going through. He glanced over his shoulder before crawling in over the thick sleeping bag that had been tossed on the taped-seam floor of the tent. His Ty seemed to be back, for now, and Zane wanted to hold onto him for as long as he could.
Ty remained standing outside the flap of the low tent for a few moments; then he ducked down and crawled in behind Zane. The tent was just high enough for them to be able to sit up. It was made for one person, possibly two who were very friendly, but it was warm inside, out of the wind, and appeared sturdy enough.
Ty zipped the flap up and secured the nylon covers on the mesh windows, making the interior a very small space with both of them in it. Zane wondered if Ty’s issues with dark, enclosed spaces would rear their ugly heads, but Ty didn’t seem fazed as he fussed with trying to get the sleeping bag unzipped while sitting on it.
Zane was sitting up, his head brushing the curved top of the tent, but it was easy enough to twist and get out of his jacket. He figured it would be warm enough with the two of them in there. He folded the jacket and dropped it about where his head would fall when he lay down.
Ty gave up on the zipper and merely sat next to him, his head lowered as he rested his hand on Zane’s knee. He turned his head, looking at Zane out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to be holding his breath. Zane watched him, waiting.
Finally, Ty exhaled heavily and lifted his chin. “They started when Dad picked up that can,” he told Zane in a low voice. “The flashbacks.” Zane watched him closely but didn’t comment. Ty lowered his head again and glanced back furtively at Zane in another nervous gesture. “I’ve only ever done this two or three times,” he said. “Not sure how to handle them.” His voice wavered as he spoke. He cleared his throat and looked away again.
Zane didn’t know what a doctor would technically classify a flashback, but he’d call it pretty close to being awake during a nightmare, himself. Zane knew nightmares. He also knew there was nothing to be said. He didn’t want to hear platitudes after a nightmare; he was sure Ty didn’t need them now. So he waited.
Ty reached down and fiddled with the zipper of the sleeping bag again, fidgeting like he always did when he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “Want to sleep on it or under it?” he finally asked roughly as he plucked at the edge of the thick sleeping bag.
“You’re sleeping on it,” Zane said, reaching out to tug at his arm. “Under me, remember?”
Ty moved with him, turning and reaching out to him to kiss him. Zane paused as their lips touched, pressed, and rasped against several days’ worth of whiskers. It was easy to lift one hand and touch Ty’s cheek gently as he let Ty control the kiss. As far as Zane was concerned, Ty could have whatever the hell he wanted right now.
Ty let his lips linger against Zane’s as he pulled away, and then he pressed his forehead against Zane’s and closed his eyes. “You mentioned a warm spot?” he whispered as he let his fingers curl through Zane’s hair.
Zane hummed a positive note. He reached up to unzip Ty’s jacket, and Ty shrugged out of it obediently. He tugged at Zane’s shoulder, pulling him down on the padded sleeping bag. He pulled his jacket over them both, sliding his hand over Zane’s waist and pulling him closer. The fabric of the jacket smelled overwhelmingly like Ty as the collar fell against Zane’s cheek, and taking a long, slow, deep breath in was reassuring in ways Zane didn’t want to examine too closely. Instead, he subtly shifted his body toward Ty.
“Tell me something,” Zane murmured.
“Anything,” Ty offered in a whisper as he brushed his nose against Zane’s.
Zane’s breath caught, revealing his surprise over Ty’s reply. The sentiment behind the whispered word made his heart beat wildly for a few breaths before he could calm himself. He very certainly didn’t want to ask his question about the flashbacks now. Not after that tender response. He had no idea what to say.
He pulled his arm out from between them to slide it under Ty’s neck, urging Ty closer to his side. “I… I’m here. For you. You know that. Right?” And the shaky words whispered against Ty’s cheek just stuttered to a stop.
Ty was still, the tip of his nose cold against Zane’s cheek as they lay tangled together. “I know,” he assured Zane, the words barely more than breaths against Zane’s lips. “What were you really gonna ask?” he added as his fingertips slid under Zane’s shirt, resting against the skin of his lower back.
Zane huffed and shivered as Ty’s cold fingers hit his warm skin. Ty knew him too well. “What are they like? The flashbacks? Are they anything like when you’re half-awake but still having a nightmare?”
Ty swallowed hard and pushed his head back a little, enough that Zane could just make out his eyes. Ty was looking at him in the darkness. “It’s more like… a feeling,” he tried to explain haltingly. “The feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you’re falling. Like I’m not sure which way is up.”
Zane tightened his arms. “I won’t let you fall.” Then he winced apologetically. Very trite. He sighed. Trite but true.
He could feel Ty holding his breath. Then his partner snorted quietly and bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He tightened his hold on Zane and pressed his nose to Zane’s again. “Thanks, Garrett,” he managed to say, though his voice wavered with the threat of laughter.
“Go ahead and laugh. It was awful, I know,” Zane admitted grudgingly.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Ty tried. He laughed suddenly and then kissed Zane impulsively, getting a smile out of him.
Zane was glad to hear the happy sound, short as it was. He relaxed again, enjoying the slight tremors passing from Ty’s body to his own. “This wasn’t exactly what I thought I’d be doing today,” he murmured after a few moments of merely enjoying the embrace.
“No kidding,” Ty responded wryly. He turned his head and began to burrow his face between Zane’s uninjured cheek and the rolled up coat beneath them, using Zane like he usually used his pillow when they were at home. Zane smiled affectionately as he did it. It was like a puppy rooting through a blanket.
“What’s so different about today?” Ty asked, his voice muffled.