dont leave me - floynter - standalone.
Title: don't leave me.
Part: 1/1
Rating: 13+
Pairing: FetcherPoynter
Disclaimer: this is just a story, and of course i don't own mcfly.
come here. please hold my hand for now. help me, I’m scared; please show me how to fight this.
please stay. until I’m gone. I’m here hold on. to me, I’m right here. waiting.
---
Dougie couldn’t remember when it started, he couldn’t remember as far back enough to know when he could sleep through the night - sleep through the night without waking in tears, with the sheets torn from his bed and strangling around his stomach. Without his hands clasped around his throat stopping himself from breathing.
With his feet padding softly across the carpet, Dougie pressed his hands against his chest - he could feel his heart, it was so horrendously fast that he could feel his whole body writhing under his flesh. Another nightmare.
Dougie sighed as he stumbled across the room, collapsing on the large window-bed, pressing his forehead against the window. The cold chill from outside running through his body like an electric shock, his breath fogging up the window as his heavy breathing started to slow down.
He just sat there, peering out the fogged window, at the unfocused lights that flashed from the city, all that distance away - and he could still see them, it was warming, he thought.
But as much as he tried to focus on the lights, on the fact that he wasn’t spiralling down a well into a pool of serpents, hissing his name. Of flames licking his feet as he clutched onto a spindling rope - he still couldn’t focus enough to go back to sleep.
With a dissatisfied grunt Dougie rose to his feet again, dwindling across the carpet before tossing himself into bed again. Maybe, just maybe if he buried his head under his pillow he might be able to get back to sleep.
Running. Dougie was running. He paused, stumbled over a twig before clutching onto a tree branch to stable himself. His calloused fingers were covered in mud - in dirt and grime, his eyes narrowed as he peered down almost nervously. His clothes were all torn, embedded with dirt and matted blood, there were scratches running along his stomach and scabs over his wrists where it looked like he’d fallen.
He paused, his heart rate still inclining and his body starting to shake nervously, he knew he was meant to be running - he just didn’t know why. Dougie’s head twisted around awkwardly, peering over his shoulders, searching for what he didn’t know.
Nothing was there. Not a sound. Not a movement, just absolutely nothing.
And then there was the sound of twigs snapping under somebody’s feet, and of a heavy panting as the thudding footsteps narrowed on him. And then Dougie ran, he was running so fast he barely noticed the branches scraping along his bare skin, slicing his flesh open and letting the blood pour down his stomach to pool over his hipbone.
He could still hear it. It was right there behind him, he didn’t know what it was, but it was bad - he knew that much. And then he fell, his clumsy feet tangled on a tree stump, and in a matter of seconds he was lying face in the dirt, peering through his greasy overgrown hair, matted with soil. And it was gaining on him, with an evil smirk and wicked eyes.
Dougie knew he screamed when he woke up, his breathing was out of control and the blankets were completely missing from his bed. His hands crashed against his sides as he struggled to sit up, but there was a weight, there was something holding him down.
Dougie bit down on his bottom lip trying not to scream. He knew it wasn’t a dream, the monster; it was here to get him - to take him away and, fuck. He could feel his body writhing in sweat, and his eyes were clenched so tightly it was painful.
“Dougie,” he heard a voice hiss, “Dougie, calm down,”
Dougie didn’t stop moving, but he slowed down, his hands winding up to slam against the shoulders of whoever it was that was holding him down - they were bigger than he was, he could tell that much. Maybe it wasn’t the monster.
“Dougie - open your eyes, seriously dude - you’re freaking me out,”
Then Dougie’s body went limp, the only movement was his lungs gasping for air as his chest swelled, his back arching every time he inhaled, trying to pry air into his body.
The hands that were pressed against his shoulders loosened a little, still resting thoughtfully against his hot, sticky flesh, just a reassurance that they were still there.
“Dougie, open your eyes - it’s Tom,” Tom’s voice was low as he whispered it gruffly against the midnight air.
Dougie strained to open one eye, feeling the slight light off his alarm clock burn for a moment before he accustomed to it. He wanted to say something, say he was alright, but his lungs wouldn’t let him - he was still fighting for breath.
Only then did he realise that Tom’s face was pressed into a scowl, his eyebrows fusing together, and his lips pursed. Tom’s hands were resting against his shoulders, to pin him to the bed. And he was sitting on Dougie’s thighs, trapping his legs beneath him.
“Wh - W - Tom? Wha -” Dougie gasped, his back still arching up painfully to get the air into his lungs.
“You were screaming,” Tom whispered mellifluously, his fingers curling around Dougie’s shoulders soothingly.
“I’m sorry,” Dougie choked, gasping between words. Finally, finally the air was getting in, as he felt his body relax just slightly.
“Don’t be mate, but could you just - like, loosen your grip a little?” Tom mumbled, his head nudging to the side, towards Dougie’s hand.
Dougie’s fingers were wound tightly around Tom’s upper arms, still there from where he was trying to fight Tom off, his nails pressing deeply into Tom’s pale flesh, leaving half-crescent moons against his skin.
“Oh fuck,” Dougie inhaled quickly, “I’m - I’m sorry,”
His body fell limp as he let his arms fall dead to the mattress, his body still heaving upwards as he felt the swarm of blood racing through his crowded veins.
“Are you like, alright?” Tom mumbled, his eyebrows morphing together again, in confusement this time, rather than pain - plain bewilderment.
Dougie just shrugged, well the most of a shrug while lying down. His breathing was coming back to normal, and his heartbeat wasn’t pulsating through his whole body anymore, so he assumed that was a good thing.
“You’re sitting on me?” Dougie mumbled, lifting his head slightly to survey Tom a little more, he had a light covering of sweat over his body, and his eyes were glistening with an almost fear - his body was pressed against Dougie’s, with his legs looped over backwards to pin Dougie’s knees to the mattress.
“Yeah, you were getting really, really violent,” Tom sighed, and Dougie felt his body relax above him as he finally lifted his hands off Dougie’ shoulders, freeing him before letting his body fall limp and tumble to the side.
Dougie rolled onto his side, so that he was facing Tom, who was lying beside him, one of his hands tousled in his hair, with the other under the pillow.
“Some bad dream, ey?” Tom yawned, the hand in his hair falling down to rub at his wide, honey brown eye.
“Yeah, I suppose,” Dougie replied meekly, his lips pulling into a tight grin before his body curled into itself a little more.
“Wanna talk about it?” Tom whispered against the cold air.
It was because of this that Dougie was glad it was Tom that had heard him - if anyone at all. He never liked to worry anybody, but if it was Danny - well Danny would have just given him a pat on the head and wandered out again like it was as normal as showering. And Harry, well Harry was a big comforter, he would have just plucked him from his bed and put him in his bed for the night, no words needed. But Tom, Tom wanted to understand, he wanted to fix this.
“Not really much to say, really - it’s been happening pretty regularly,” Dougie yawned, he didn’t want to bore Tom, he really didn’t.
“Like, every night?” Tom muttered, his eyes narrowing as Dougie nodded, before pausing and shaking his head.
“Well, a couple of times, I suppose,” He mumbled.
“God, that’s horrible - why didn’t you wake somebody up? Tell them about it?” Tom sighed, letting one of his hands fall forward to press against Dougie’s upper arm, his calloused fingers running up and down soothingly.
“Well I didn’t want to annoy anybody, I’m fine, really,” Dougie just grinned timidly.
“If they’re anything like tonight, I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself yet - you were barely breathing, and kicking around like a maniac,” Tom mumbled, scratching his cheek before sitting up a little. “Well what was it about?”
Dougie paused, beginning to feel the cold rush of the air fly over his sweaty skin, it wasn’t the best feeling. He propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes squinting to see through the harsh light at Tom.
“Uh - well I’m running, and I’m lost - but I’m in this like, this, this forest and there’s something chasing me. It’s massive, and its feet sound like when you smash a frying pan against a metal bucket, and it’s so loud. And so I’m running, and then I usually trip, and.” Dougie paused. It didn’t seem so scary when he said it out loud, somewhat childish really.
Tom didn’t say anything, just let his fingers still stroke against the soft flesh of Dougie’s arm, calmly, reassuringly.
“It doesn’t sound like much, but - yeah,” Dougie mumbled, he felt so stupid about this now.
“Yeah, of course it does. I’m just trying to remember what I read about nightmares,” Tom’s nose scrunched up in that almost too adorable way as he peered across the dark at Dougie.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dougie mumbled, “I get over it, I just need to calm down and then I can usually go back to sleep for a while,”
Tom didn’t say anything as he rolled across the bed, away from Dougie before falling against the carpet. The soles of his feet scuffing along the carpet as he headed for the door.
Dougie felt a surge of panic flush over his body as he pried himself up from the bed a little more, a little disgusted with the damp sheets beneath his sweaty body. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was fucking scared.
“Tom?” Dougie whimpered, his body now struggling to completely sit up, to stare across the room at the blonde who was just standing frozen in the middle of his room at the moment.
“Yeah, Dougs?” Tom mumbled back against the cold night air.
“Dontleaveme,” Dougie muttered timidly, he felt so childish right now, grown men weren’t meant to ask their best friends to sleep with them because of a few stupid nightmares.
Tom just chuckled, shaking his head a little as he bent down, returning with the blanket from Dougie’s bed, obviously tossed to the ground amidst the fight. “I was just getting the duvet,”
Dougie felt his cheeks blush before he pressed himself against the mattress again, burying himself in his own flesh and trying to forget about everything, about anything.
The sudden coolness of air welling around his body made Dougie’s eyes blast open again, shivering for a moment before the blanket hit his body, a sudden snap of cold before the warmth swarmed his body.
Tom rolled back into the bed, his body a little closer to Dougie’s than it was before, his head still on his own pillow, but his fingers knocking against Dougie’s and their shoulders barely inches apart.
“Dougie?” Tom’s voice cooed gruffly.
“Mmm?” Dougie whispered back, his eyes opening.
“I’ll be right here,” Tom mumbled, shifting his hands a little more to entwine between Dougie’s, “Just in case, y’know,”
Dougie just smiled across at Tom, feeling his warm eyes burning against his cheeks before shuffling across the bed, pressing his body in the gap between Tom’s arm and his chest.
“Thankyou,” Was all Dougie managed, whispering against the curve of Tom’s collarbone, his fingers curling around his body, absorbing his warmth, and twisting his fingers in the cool white material of Tom’s shirt.
“No need to thank me,” Tom whispered, craning forward to press his lips against the top of Dougie’s head, breathing in deeply before tightening his grip around the smaller blonde again, pulling him firmly into his side.
Dougie just nestled further against Tom, his eyes fluttering shut with his cheek pressed against Tom’s shoulder, and his fingers curled around his body. He could feel Tom’s even breathing against his body and he could taste sleep tearing over them.
And for the first night, in as long as he can remember he had a twisted hope, of sleeping right through the night.