Kink Meme Part 10

[the_mteam]

Welcome to the 10th Kink Meme prompts post! We are excited to be back in business and can't wait to see all your new prompts and stories.

This meme is open to het and slash pairings, to gen prompts and fills, and to RPF. You are welcome to post anonymously or as a logged-in user.

RULES-One prompt per comment

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Fill: Brotherhood 4c/?

[loves_books]

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes. “But you’re okay now, you’re safe.”

“I know.” Face brings his free hand up to his chest, rubbing gently over his sternum. “I got some good bruises from Hannibal’s resus efforts - when that man gives you chest compressions, he doesn’t hold anything back - and I had a cough for most of the way home, but I was so lucky, I know that.”

She dares to ask, “But your subconscious doesn’t quite get that yet, right?” To his confused glance, she explains, “The dreams, baby. Or nightmares, I suppose.”

This time, it is his eyes that fill with tears and she finally cracks, reaching across the sofa to pull him into her arms, careful not to put any pressure onto his sore chest. For a second she thinks he will flee, he goes so tense and stiff. But then, thank goodness, it’s like someone cuts all his strings and he collapses into her embrace, his head coming down to rest on her shoulder and his arms wrapping loosely around her waist in return. “I’m so tired,” he whispers against her neck. “But I keep waking up, little flashes of… I don’t know, flashes of something. Being under the water, fighting this assho - idiot, trying to get to the surface… Couldn’t breathe…”

“Easy, Templeton.” She rubs slow circles across his broad shoulders, feeling his breathing pick up speed, his chest heaving. “You can breathe now. You’re safe. Hannibal got to you in time.”

After a minute or two, murmuring soothing words into his ear, he settles again, though he makes no effort to pull out of her embrace. She continues to just hold him, keeping him close, until he finally speaks again. “You know Bosco’s blaming himself?”

“I got that impression.” She presses a kiss into his messy curls, sliding one hand up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly. “He said he was supposed to be there, that he should’ve been the one to get you out?”

A soft laugh against her neck. “He thinks he should’ve followed me out the window, into the pool. I keep telling him he would’ve been stupid to try it. It’s a miracle I didn’t break my neck as it was. Besides, he had three other guards to deal with, and he got the - um, got what we needed from the safe. Hannibal was right there, he got me out, though I don’t remember that. It wasn’t even five minutes, apparently, until I was out and breathing again.”

Her own chest gets tighter then. Dear god above, five whole minutes… She tightens her arms around him, blinking back her tears again, and he sinks further into her embrace, a heavy weight in her arms. He isn’t crying, she thinks, though he is still breathing hard. Minutes stretch on, the two of them just sitting together. She doesn’t know what she can say to help him through this - he should really speak to a counsellor, perhaps, though she can imagine how well that suggestion would go down - but maybe just talking about it will help. Not brushing it under the carpet and pretending everything is fine when clearly it isn’t.

With her adopted son wrapped up in her arms, it takes her longer than it probably should to realise that the sounds of the one-sided conversation from the kitchen have ceased. Turning her head slightly, not loosening her grip on Face, she sees her boy standing in the living room doorway, mobile dangling forgotten from his fingers, a look of such anguish on his dark face that her heart breaks a little.