#nickkkwritesstuff

He wakes up with a gasp.

A scream choked on his dry throat makes it hard to breathe, tears unshed blur his vision, rising the panic on the back of his mind.

The dream is already slipping away, but the feeling clings onto him like a second skin, panic tightens his chest while his hand tries to claw it open to release pressure. The blanket sticks to his sweaty skin and it's just too much – 

“Breathe” A low, steady voice says.

Raph jumps on his spot, his remaining eye desperately tries to find the voice next to him, he’s half expecting he’ll find one of the demons that haunt him in his sleep–

Instead, he finds Traximus, sitting next to him, hands hovering over his shoulder, unsure if he should break the distance between them. His eyes, dimly lit by the night, wait patiently for him to catch his breath.  

Raph jerkily nods. His pulse still hammers in his ears, but he forces down gulp through his closed throat and exhales.

In and out.

In and out.

“I’m fine.” he finally rasps out. He almost believes it. Almost. But the shakiness of his voice betrays him, he’s still too winded up, too wired, and Trax sees it. “It was just a dream.”

Trax shifts in his place, finally resting a hand on Raph’s shoulder, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles. “Doesn’t look like a dream to me.”

The triceraton’s voice is steady as ever. Raph clenches his jaw and turns his gaze away, his hand stops clasping his chest to fidget with the blankets.

A long silence stretches between the two of them, neither break it, they both stay.

After a few minutes (or maybe hours, Raph thinks), he finally mutters “It’s stupid.”

Trax doesn’t respond; instead he waits for Raph to continue. 

“We were back in the… Kraang war. It– I just–” His voice cracks. “I saw them die again, I could never make it on time… They always tried to reach for me but– I couldn’t do anything.”

Raph grips the blankets tighter. “I know it’s not my fault, they made their choices, but I cannot help but think that I… that I could've done more: talk to them, hold them back, anythin’...”

A single tear runs down his face. He quickly wipes it away. He hates this feeling, the phantom weight of things he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t fix. His breathing, while slower, is uneven, catching on his throat.

“Then I woke up.”

Traximus doesn’t respond, he doesn’t look away or pretends to not notice. Instead, after a moment of quiet consideration, he moves closer.

Raph doesn’t notice when Trax moves just slightly closer. Not looming, not overwhelming. Just there. Solid. Unshakable.

Then he offers a hand. 

Raph only stares at it. Fist still clutching onto his blanket. He knows what it is. He can pretend he doesn’t need it, just shrug it off and bury everything down like he always does.

Or–

He could take it.

He hesitates, fingers twitch, then slowly he reaches out.

Palms press against each other, calloused fingers rubbing together, gripping onto thick and worn out skin. His digits get caught in the remains of old scars and burns, Trax’s heart aches in sympathy and Raph can feel it, for once, he feels understood.

And something about the way he does it, the certainty, the understanding in his voice, his movements, hits Raph deeper than he expects. 

A sob escapes his lips, then tears won't stop coming.

Traximus doesn’t react much, just stays still, letting Raph set the pace. But there is something grounding about it, about the steady warmth beneath their skin, the quiet, unspoken I’m here.

After a couple of minutes, Raph exhales, the tension on his shoulders eases just a little.

“You really don’t gotta do this, y’know.” The snapper says.

“I don’t do things I do not wish to do.”

Raph snorts. The ghost of a smile tugs the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine. Trax exhales, slow but deliberate. 

“I have seen many wars. Many battles.”

The soldier searches for Raph’s eyes, with his free hand he reaches and slowly pulls his face up to meet his own. His thumb wipes a stray tear and takes a moment to absorb Raph’s old and scarred face, he looks so tired and sad but there’s a spark still in there, willing to keep going and protect his whole world, even if it costs him everything.

“But the worst ones do not end when the fighting stops.”

Traximus watches him for a moment before shifting. His voice, when he speaks again, is quieter.

“You’re not alone in this, Raphael.”

He breathes out. “Yeah” The fear is still there, but the weight on his chest feels lighter. “Yeah, I know.”

The words linger in the air, settling on Raph’s bones in a way that makes his very core ache, but not in a bad way. In a real way.

They sit in silence after that. A comfortable silence. For a long time, neither of them move.

Raph lets out a long yawn, and subconsciously tries to rub his eyes with his lost arm. The exhaustion is starting to weight on him again, adrenaline wearing out.

Trax hesitates but ever so slowly and gently lowers down on their shared bed, he adjusts the pillows and pats the spot next to him. 

The snapper lays down, his head rests on Trax’s chest, hearing the heartbeat underneath, it ushers him gently into sleep. Trax does an one armed hug, his hand scratching Raph’s shell between his spikes in a way that the turtle seems to enjoy as he quietly rumbles. He doesn’t comment on it.

“You ever get tired of bein’ right all the time?” Raph nudges. Trax chuckles, shaking his head.

“It’s a great burden, but I manage.” He adjusts his position. “Come on, rest now, you need it.”

With a long sigh, Raph obliges. For a second, he wants to argue. He isn’t used to this. Someone else watching out for him. Someone else offering their presence, their protection, their understanding. He wants to say I don’t need you to do all of this. But he swallows those words and tells his brain to shut up, because, for once, maybe just this once… he does.

“Yeah… okay.”

Traximus doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything else.

He just stays.

And somehow that’s enough.

Raph’s eyes drift closed. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but this time, nightmares don’t follow.

And when he stirs a few hours later, in that quiet space between dreams and waking, the first thing he sees is Trax’s sleeping form, still there.

It was broken with hairline fractures across the gray surface, it beat at a slow pace, differently than when the ghost -Lewis?- had held him back at the edge. What was that shiny locket?  

He didn’t think twice, powered by curiosity, his metal arm reached for it, he licked the locket with his thumb until it clicked under the pressure. Like a jackbox, it opened without a warning, Arthur’s heart skipped a beat and gasped by reflection. 

A picture.

A picture of both Vivi and Lewis. He held her close, both laughing, happy. Arthur’s stomach twisted. 

So it was really him. 

The ghost who tried to kill him just a few minutes ago was Lewis. 

Arthur held the picture closer, he swore he had seen it somewhere before, it was like a Deja Vù. Though, something was missing in the picture, but the blurriness didn’t let him see it clearly, why was it blurry now?

The heart shaped thing escaped from his grasp before he could figure out what was happening. He looked up to meet an angry -and slightly blushed- specter. Arthur crawled a few feet away from the wraith until a wall of boxes blocked his path, please don’t hurt me, the scared mechanic prayed.

He gulped hard, he almost choked on his own saliva. Eyes wide open followed the sturdy figure take a few steps -or the equivalent floating- towards the open gate of the truck. He abruptly stopped. 

The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. The blond man shrunk for protection, closed his eyes waiting for Lewis to attack him at any given moment. Nothing hit him, instead he heard a soft sniff. 

Arthur’s mouth dropped, was he crying-?

The ghost shaked a little and sobbed quietly to himself as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear him tear down. The scrawny mechanic froze, his entire body stayed still, he wasn’t even breathing, Arthur began to panic. What was he supposed to do? Run away and leave him there, feeling miserable? Ask him what happened? Comfort him?

He had the chance to escape and check on Vivi and Mystery, he could leave him behind right now if he hurried up. But on the back of his mind, Arthur knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

Gathering the courage he didn’t have, Arthur closed the distance they had, a hand lifted ready to be placed on the ghost’s shoulder…

“Lewis?”

The ghost growled at him, Arthur backed a little in surprise. Air vacated his lungs for a moment. What’s next, Kingsman?, Arthur smacked himself mentally.

“Are you- are you okay...?”

No response, the ghost sighed. It echoed very deep into his mind, it was terrifying how the sigh stung inside his head. Arthur frowned, something in his chest refusing to give up. 

Arthur’s eyes darted among the shelves, looking for something, anything to distract the ghost with, literally any single thing was useful. They finally landed back on the heart the wraith held between his hands. The image had changed.

Now not only Vivi and Lewis were there but also Mystery and himself were included. Right! That was missing, Arthur thought, realizing where he had seen it before. He half smiled at the nostalgia.

“Hey, Lew,” the mechanic called gently. The ghost didn’t even mind. “do you remember- remember when we took that... pic?”

Arthur waited for no answer, he immediately sat down back-to-back and legs crisscrossed, the thin mechanic was terrified what he was doing, he moved and talked with confidence despite not having any but his subconscious had decided without his permission that he wasn’t moving from there until the ghost ceased his tears or he killed him with no mercy, whatever happened first. 

“I do.” He continued. “It was on Vivi’s birthday, she got a- a new camera, she was so excited that she almost broke it. How clumsy of her.”

The mechanic laughed. “We took that photo thrice. The first because she left the lense cap on and the second one because I blinked. When she finally took it right she printed it and posted it everywhere. She was so happy.”

Temperature dropped, he felt chills from behind and he couldn’t help but warm himself with his vest. The star pin poked him, Arthur unpinned it and held it before his eyes.

“Ah! Also, I found the pin you gave me. I’m sorry that I lost it but I promised- I promised I’ll find it so I did! It was under Lance’s couch.” Arthur brushed some dust off the star’s acrylic, fidgeting a little.

“Y’know? I- I found it after you- you uh... went missing. I thought this would- would be a sign that I could find you and I... I kept it as a promise to you, that, no matter what, I would bring you back home.” He pinned it again with a sad smile.

Arthur felt shifting behind his back, the ghost relaxed a little. 

And so, Arthur trailed off. He kept talking about what he missed, about the Peppers, Vivi doing something embarrassing, and about good moments they all had together.  

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty. Usually he was the one who was comforted, he didn’t had the touch like Vivi or Lewis, who were better at listening and understanding, and had always been there for him, even in the latest nights they had sat down with him and hear him go on for hours and hours until he had fallen asleep; they were patient with their friend.

Arthur wanted to repay him somehow.

However, he didn’t know how to comfort a ghost.

But he knew how to comfort Lewis.

Lewis, who had been his friend almost all his life, Lewis who was safety and balance when he most needed it, who had lent him a hand when Arthur stumbled down. The friend who helped him to get back on his feet and was the gentlest and kindest person he ever met. Arthur knew that Lewis and he could help him.

He just needed to find him.

On the other side, probably Lewis didn’t even want company, his company, after he tried to murder Arthur, he supposed he was the last person the ghost wanted to see, but he ran out of ideas. Sitting there with him and not letting him bare with his feelings alone was the best thing he had come to. Talk to him so he knows he isn’t alone. 

Arthur threw a glance at his friend. His back served as a firm barrier between them, he was still stiff. The mechanic’s shoulders fell as well as his head, what else could he do?

At this point, he was tired of trying. He only had the strength to do one last push and see if the ghost responded to his attempt of comfort. If it didn’t work, then Arthur was clueless.

One last push…

“Where were you, Lew?” He muttered, burying his face in his hands. “I looked for you everywhere. But it was like you- you just poofed out of this world.”

The blond man recalled the long nights driving across the state, looking for places where his friend could have gone to, dealing with Vivi and her ‘go to bed, now’s. Many nights spent on his laptop looking for clues but none of them gave results.   

“I… I missed you.” Arthur brushed his hair with his flesh hand. “I missed you, Lew.”

Arthur’s head shocked against the dark suit, closed his eyes tiredly and gave deep slow breaths. He could feel the ghost’s back relaxing once again, the spectre’s shoulders fell entirely and his arms lowered almost completely. Arthur straightened up quickly.

The mechanic turned to see what he had done. The ghost’s imposing frame looked weak, about to break down to the softest blow. 

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty, but he totally knew how to give the best hugs. He wasn't suffocating like Vivi or crushing like Lewis, instead he held a steady and supportive grip, just like his uncle did when he had nightmares or the phantom pain was unbearable. Lance wasn’t a tactile person, but knew how to hold somebody when they needed.

Arthur was on his knees now, unsure if a hug was the right thing to do. Lewis looked so down and the mechanic couldn’t just stand there forever. 

Shyly, one arm went under Lewis’ sleeve to his chest and the other one lied across his upper back to his shoulder. The ghost jumped a little but didn’t protest against him, instead, he fell under the embrace. Arthur peeked up above the wraith’s suit to see the loket, it was closed now but still held carefully on top of his lap.

The large hand placed the loket on his chest where it floated just a few inches above the fabric. Arthur buried his face on the black suit. It was when Arthur realized how Lewis was warm, not like the human warmth but like an overheated lamp or a small campfire seen from the distance. 

Suddenly, Arthur’s arms weren’t around his friend anymore but a pair of giant ones lifted him up and tangled around his torso and his cheek was warm. Arthur opened his eyes to meet a purple tie in front of him, Lewis was hugging him back.

A single, nervous yet happy small laugh came out of his mouth. Then he returned the hug. 

“I missed you too.”

Vivi could hear the owner of such trinked luring around their kitchen, unbothered by her thoughts, he kept his distance from her after being aware of how she felt towards him. It hadn’t been long ago when the wraith (what was his name again?) had rejoined their small group just after he had come to terms with Arthur, they got along fine, both having to get used to each other again but things were working out slowly, painfully slowly, however Vivi wasn’t buying any of this, the ghost and her friend told her the most heartwarming stories about the couple they once were, and he sounded like a nice guy, really, but the hatred she had seen on his eyes and the way the ghost had tried to willingly kill Arthur not once but twice didn’t mix well.

As for that, the ghost had trusted Vivi his anchor as both a promise and a guarantee.

He (she had his name on the tip of her tongue) had guarantee that he wouldn’t try to hurt their scrawny blond mechanic ever again, and if he ever did, she guarded his anchor to perform a clean exorcism and get rid of him for forever; and he also confirmed that she would find the answers to her questions inside of it.

But Vivi was afraid of the truth.

Arthur had tried many times to itch her to open it, Mystery had done the same a few times last month and they had offered her to confirm her memories, just in chase they were incorrect and the ghost tried to brainwash her. 

Vivi cracked her knuckles and returned back to work, ignoring the loud thum next to her. She pressed the keys harder than before to mute her thoughts but she interrupted herself when she catched her bobbing her head to the rhythm of the anchor. Vivi closed the computer angrily fighting the urge to throw it out of the window and sat down on her bed.

Her eyes landed on the golden heart, imitating the pulse of a real organ. Her hands stretched to welcome it onto her hold but she freezed and withdrawned them to her sides.

What if her world stumbled down again?

What if she realized how wrong she was?

What if she didn’t like what she saw?

Vivi couldn’t bear to see what she knew fall again. Everything was working out, she was fine with the life she had, why wasn’t it enough? It should be enough, why can’t it be enough?

Vivi looked at the anchor and wished to rip it in pieces and end her suffering. Her hands once again reached for it and this time she felt the smooth surface on her delicate touch. Her thumb ran across the cover like it was made of glass and found her reflection like a perfect mirror.

“Is everything okay?” A deep voice called from the door forcing her to look up and meet the skeleton’s face. He probably felt her touching his heart.

She bit her lips. “Yes, it’s fine,” She assured, placing the locket on her lap. “I just- ah”

The girl failed to explain herself. “I’m wondering how things were before… y’know.” Vivi moved a little and patted next to her inviting the spirit to sit. He placed himself on the other end of the bed, giving her as much space as he could and did his best to look smaller. “What if everything’s different? How am I supposed to react? What should I do with that? It’s just too much.”

Vivi’s chest tightened as she trailed off inside her mind, maybe she was overthinking it after all, but a large hand on her back gently pulled her off her thoughts before they choked her.

He sighed (or did the equivalent for a ghost) and retrieved his anchor from her grip. “It’s okay if you want to take your time,” the spirit fidgeted a little with the locket on his hands. “and we’re not going to push you to go through that. We were friends once, who says we can’t be friends again?”

It wasn’t a smile what the ghost pulled but it was close enough, one gentle but awkward smile. Vivi’s guess was that it would look better with his human disguise on (the one she couldn’t see or she’ll black out.)

She placed her hands on top of his and applied some pressure until she heard a soft click and the anchor opened like a book ready to be read. “But I want to know what I lost.”

The last came out more like a whisper to her ears, not sure if the ghost had heard her, but Vivi did not care. She guided his hands back to her lap to take a look inside the locket. It contained a single picture of the group, smiling as they never had and squished together to fit in the small frame.

Vivi felt like she had passed through a wall, one by one she saw memories long lost and recent adventures she would have never imagined, it all felt true and right and nostalgic until she was forced back into reality.

She was sitting staring at a wall, crying; the ghost panicking silently next to her unsure to pull her on a hug or lay her on the bed. Vivit turned to look at the wraith, recognition filling her eyes.