#ranpilled

for mystictober day 3 -- family // cozy

summary: saeran wakes up from a nightmare. you and seven help him go back to sleep.

word count: 956

The groaning and shouting from the other room wakes you instantaneously, sending shockwaves down your spine. You sit up, salvaging bits and pieces of your growing consciousness as Saeyoung eventually stirs awake, rubbing his eyes.

"Saeran," is the only thing you have to tell him before he stiffens, suddenly alert.

After a beat, he leaps out of bed and runs to his brother's room, almost slipping on his pajamas on the way. "Saeran-ah," you hear him groan weakly.

It's still the middle of the night -- 3 AM, your phone says -- and the hallway is impossibly dark. But you gather yourself before following Saeyoung with the same amount of urgency, halting before Saeran's bedroom doorframe.

You can only make out flashes of his pale hair in the darkness, swaying back and forth, heaving. Saeran chokes back sobs as Saeyoung cages him in his arms, rocking him back and forth. "It's okay, it's okay," you hear your boyfriend soothe. Over and over. Maybe to make both him and Saeran believe it.

Saeran protests, slamming on his brother's chest, but you stride in, reaching to rub his back in slow, comforting circles. Saeran flinches from your touch, but his punches weaken until he's a mess in Saeyoung's arms.

Another nightmare, you guess. This isn't a strange occurrence, but it's been the first time in months Saeran's had one this severe.

You switch on his nightstand's lamp, revealing the flush on his cheeks and the way he shrinks in his brother's arms. Your stomach aches looking at him this way -- and you know Saeyoung feels the same, if not worse.

"You're okay, Saeran," you whisper. "We're here for you. I'm here. Just breathe."

Saeran follows your instructions, wordlessly inhaling and exhaling in slow, rhythmic beats. Tears still stream down his cheeks, but he grows calmer, more focused on the task at hand. You demonstrate for him, and Saeyoung copies you, until the three of you are doing it in unison.

After a while, you notice how Saeran's shaking has slowed, leaning into Saeyoung. You smile softly, gently patting him on the back for a job well done.

"I'll go get you a glass of water," you announce, making your way out. Saeyoung nods, but Saeran stays silent, staring blankly at his hands.

You turn on some of the lights, your own heart uneasy, startled. You worry for Saeran. You want to ask what was it that terrified him so much in his dreams -- what things haunted him, tortured him, even?

Were they things neither you or Saeyoung could save him from?

Entering the kitchen, you reach for a mug, then a pitcher of water in the fridge. On the fridge, there's a picture of the three of you. It's from nearly a year ago, during a Christmas party. You and Saeyoung are wearing matching Christmas sweaters (ugly ones with fairy lights on it, couresty of Saeyoung, of course), arms wrapped around each other. Saeyoung is pulling Saeran into frame, but he's protesting, clearly annoyed. He made a sweater for him, too, but the refusal was immediate.

Your heart clenches. Not only for Saeran this time, but for Saeyoung, too. How he tries so hard to have some semblance the brother he's spent his whole life missing, or how he cries into your arms, too, when he thinks about how much he's failed him -- though you know that was never the case.

It never could be.

You open the fridge, the cool air freezing you awake. You reach for the pitcher, pouring the water in. You figure you should just bring the whole thing, anyways, so you do.

But it doesn't matter anyway. When you return, Saeran is already fast asleep in Saeyoung's arms, the both of them tucked in together. You smile almost instinctively. Your sweet boys.

You drink the water instead, releasing a breath, leaving the glass and the pitcher on Saeran's nightstand, just in case. Then you turn off the lamp, and figure you should go back to sleep, back in your room with Saeyoung.

As you turn, you hear someone shift. You're about to open your mouth, apologize for the noise, but then you feel Saeyoung reaching out to hold your hand. Your fingers brush, faintly pulling you closer.

"Stay," he breathes, before patting the spot he's left just for you.

"Are you sure?" you whisper back, fidgeting.

"Honey, please." Even in this darkness, you can tell he's pouting. Who are you to say no to that?

With a sigh, you shake your head, already resting your knee on the mattress before carefully lying down next to the two of them, Saeyoung in the middle.

He slides his arm under your neck, cradling you in amidst your attempts at getting comfortable. You want to laugh at how he's cradling the both of you like a mother with her children -- but you figure that joke's for another time.

"Goodnight," you murmur, already closing your eyes. You feel him press a butterfly-faint kiss on your forehead before he reciprocates.

A part of you wonders how Saeran will react to this in the morning. He might just kick the both of you out.

Or maybe... maybe he'll let it go, just this once. You know Saeyoung would appreciate that. You know you would.

And as you finally feel trickles of slumber return to you, streaming down through your consciousness, you can't help but reach out to hold both Saeran and Saeyoung in your arms.

Because in this small world the three of you have built together in this bunker -- in what others might consider the middle of nowhere -- you've found yourself a family. A tiny, albeit dysfunctional family, true. But a family nonetheless.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.