A Whumper at Heart

At night it comes unglued. When he can’t keep it locked tight, when his guard is down. They never get better, only more confusing, pulling parts of his deepest fears and shoving them together.

Horror doesn’t come close to describing things his mind concocts at its weakest – when stress is highest and exhaustion pulls him into sleep so heavy the dreams threaten to keep him under.

Tommy knows tonight will be a disaster, he can feel the anxious energy rumbling under his skin, skittering across the tense knot at the base of his spine, the stiffness deep in his shoulders.

Evan’s been watching him, eyes laced with worry, brow creased just slightly, like he’s already bracing for pain.

“Eddie told me about a new 30 for 30 – we could watch that?” Evan offers as he sets dim sum in front of Tommy at the table. He’s already wrapped in a worn hoodie, tea steaming from his favorite mug, steeped to just the right rosy hue.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Sounds good. You don’t have to be so nervous, babe. I’m not gonna break.”

He doesn’t think.

“I-I’m not,” Evan so clearly lies. He heard about the call, so he knows – the losses, the delays that led to them and the way Tommy blames himself. “I just wanna snuggle on the couch, is that to-too much to ask?”

He’s trying to keep his voice light, playful. Tommy doesn’t fight it, leans into the comfort like a childhood blanket, warm and cozy, soft and gentle.

“Never,” Tommy grins. “That’s perfect.”

They migrate to the couch slowly, more tea made, extra blankets stuffed in Evan’s arms, Tommy’s favorite movie candy already on the table.

It hurts, in a way, to know how much Evan would do for him – sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

Evan doesn’t let him think it for long, though, when they curl up beside one another on the couch. He tries to keep sleep at bay, just a little longer, but the exhaustion wins out like it always does and he falls into sleep before they even reach the ten-minute mark.

It happens in slow motion. Tommy’s out of town – visiting an old Army buddy, Charlie, up the coast – when Eddie calls.

It doesn’t make sense – why would Eddie be calling him? Why would he need to without Evan? Something must be wrong, something must’ve happened, something’s going–

“Eddie?” He answers the phone, voice tight and distant, like it belongs to someone else. He can’t hear what’s on the other end. He strains, trying to find a voice, one he knows from drunken nights in the backyard, countless spars in the garage, off-pitch singing at karaoke trivia.

“Tommy?” Eddie sounds like he’s shouting, like he’s desperate, even though Tommy’s right here. It garbles, twists with static. Disappears.

The line goes dead and he turns back to the living room where the television is on. Charlie’s looking at it in terror, eyes wide. Tommy starts to follow his gaze and the screen grows, expands, twists and morphs until he’s somehow inside it.

The whir of helicopter blades circle above him, chaotic and out of sync, tipping dangerously away before spinning back against itself.

He doesn’t know how he knows but he does. He can feel it. Evan’s in there.

“Evan!” He calls, voice desperate, eyes laced with tears. They push out the dirt that’s kicked up from the helicopter hovering, circling beneath it like a blood trail left behind.

He’s running before he can stop himself, legs pumping across the forest, guided by the failing rotor blades and the plummeting cockpit.

The moment it collides with the earth, he feels the ground rumble beneath his feet. A dark cloud mushrooms from the downed helicopter and exhales with the air around it, fanning outward covering the clouds in dust and ash.

“Evan!” Tommy’s shouting, wailing as he tries to reach the machine, tries to reach the love of his life.

But–

He’s not getting any closer. He’s barely moving at all. His heart’s racing, lungs clawing for air, throat tight, sweat pouring from his temples, but he’s still at the mouth of the forest.

He can hear him now – Evan’s voice echoing in the distance – calling for him, broken and horrified and other-worldly. He’s in pain, he’s suffering, Tommy would do anything to reach him, would die if it meant Evan would live.

“Tommy!” Evan’s voice is louder now, gaining momentum. It snakes out of the forest and slams him in the chest.

“Tommy–

–Tommy, wake up!”

Tommy jolts awake, chest heaving, eyes wet and wild, muscles so tight they’re starting to cramp. Strong arms hold him tighter, warm muscle presses against his back.

“It’s just a nightmare,” Evan soothes, fingers brushing over skin so soft it hurts in an entirely different way. “I’ve got you.”

Tommy latches on until his knuckles turn white, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

His brain’s nothing if not consistent and the nightmares that plague him always do the most damage when he’s already down – why did he think today would be an exception?

But Evan’s here, still firmly wrapped around Tommy, still murmuring soothing assurances in his ear so gently it aches.

“Sorry,” Tommy mumbles, voice thick. He was exhausted before he fell asleep and dreams like that are hardly conducive to anything resembling rest.

Evan presses a kiss to the top of his head and whispers, “Shut up. Don’t do that.”

Tommy chuckles and nods, “Yeah, okay.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” Tommy asks, breath coming easier now, chest loosening with the final wrath of tension smoothing out.

“Are you okay?” Evan asks as Tommy sits up, turning to face him.

“No, but…yeah.”

Evan nods, leaning in for another soft kiss before standing. “I’ll make us some more tea.”

“Thank you,” Tommy says, and he means for more than just the tea.

“I love you,” Evan says easily. He pauses in the hall and his eyes trace over Tommy, like he’s verifying he’s still there. Still whole. “Chamomile or hibiscus?”

“You pick,” Tommy says, watching him go. “Love you, too.”