"Ay, there’s the rub. Ay, there’s the rub. Ay, the rub. The rub. The rub…"

Hard, rigid, unbendable, inflexible earth below, dark, sinister, murky sky above, unfriendly, hostile, vicious, violent, cruel winds around, and no one to save him, no one around to save him, and it’s too late anyway because they’re coming, they’re coming to take him, they’re screeching their evil chant, throwing his word’s, his shouts, his vehement and utterly ineffectual protests back at him and there’s no one to save him, not now, not this time…

For the thirteenth straight night in a row Blaine woke up shaking, sweat as cold as death coating his skin like a sheet. Ever since the attack this had become routine. Every night the exact same dream, every night the exact same sweat and shaking. Worst of all, every night the exact same horrible, gut wrenching, toe curling fear that he hadn’t really woken up in the hospital after all.

Blaine’s eyes stayed closed, and so he felt rather than saw the comforting body of warmth roll over beside him. He felt the owner of his comfort grab his hand, snuggle up to his side, and the owner of his heart whisper into his ear,

“I’m here now. Nothing can harm you. Go back to sleep, and don’t you dare dream of anything but me.”

Keeping his eyes shut, feeling the tension drain from his body, Blaine obliged.