WHO: Matt and Delilah!
WHAT: Matt's had a bad dream
WHERE: His flat!
WHEN: Tonight!



It started like it always did. For as long as he could remember, as he couldn’t remember life before his parents had been murdered, Matt had suffered nightmares. Long, vivid nightmares that left him reeling for hours after. There was a pounding on a door, a shout---he had to get Caleb. That was his one job. He had one job. There were shadows moving up and down the hallway, quick bursts of smoke, wisps of what looked like a man in a long overcoat---his mother putting her fingers to her lips to tell him to be quiet as she pushed him and his brother into the closet.

The screams were the worst part. Matt hunched himself over the tiny frame of his little brother, pressing his hands hard against Caleb’s ears so that he couldn’t hear the terrified shrieks of their mother, the loud, bellowing cries of their father. Matt absorbed it all, and he didn’t move, it was his one job. Glass shattered, crashes erupted on the other side of the door, and then the heat of the flames that had been erupted began to raise the temperature of the closet. The red glow of the fire danced underneath the door, but Matt kept his brother turned away, it was his one job!

The flames licked at his feet, their intensity growing and causing him to push further into the closet to get away from the extreme heat. He couldn’t cry out, he couldn’t scare Caleb, it was his one job----

Matt woke up breathless, drenched in sweat as the pain of the old wounds flared up again. He threw his quilt away from him and crashed into his nightstand as he flew out of bed and to the bathroom. The burns seared up his back and to his still delirious mind there was only one solution: he flung himself into the tub and the magical showerhead poured down ice cold water. Matt sat, arms around his knees and his pajamas getting soaked, trying to ease his mind. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.

Delilah startled awake at the loud noise, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. That was not hers. Right, she stayed at Matthew’s. The night before (earlier that evening? The clock read almost three in the morning) she had been over late, they were watching some movie and when it was over Delilah whined about having to go home. Matt had the easy solution of having her just stay. Honestly she couldn’t think of a reason not to.

She ran her hand over the empty space next to her with a frown. Sitting up and looking around, she saw the light coming from the bathroom. It was odd, right? Had he been gone long enough to where it warranted following? And she could hear water running, surely he wasn’t taking a shower at this time. “Matt?” Delilah called tentatively swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “Matthew, everything okay?”

When there was no response, she got up to follow tugging at the hem of the shirt that he lent her. Perhaps the take out hadn’t sat well with him and he was feeling ill. The last thing she expected was to find him sitting in the tub letting water run over him. Delilah stood in the doorway unsure what to do. What was even going on? “Matt?” She tried again softly before entering the bathroom.

“Um. You’re getting kind of wet?” Delilah reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back from whatever had him here. Seeing his face though, didn’t help ease her mind at all. She had never seen anything but a smile on his face. The look he had now just seemed wrong and Delilah had the urge to fix it. “You were sleeping.” She tried remembering the times when she was little and Daniel had to convince her that the monsters in her dreams weren’t real. Maybe that’s what this was. “You were just sleeping, and what ever it was, it was just a dream.”

He’d shut his eyes to let the water pour over him. Matt had handled his struggle with the nightmares during his Hogwarts career with the help of spells and Professor Sprout. She’d charmed his bed curtains with silencing spells for when he screamed in his sleep and it had helped keep his late night trips to the loo a pretty well kept secret. If the cold shower didn’t help, he often found himself sleeping in the common room, using the excuse that he’d fallen asleep out there because he’d been up late reading muggle comics (Sprout smuggled those into his post). Now that he lived on his own, he had no worries, he could clean up the mess in the morning--

Matt hadn’t heard Delilah call his name; he’d blocked out everything but the sound of the water pouring down on him. It wasn’t until she put her hand on his shoulder that he realized she was there, remembered that she’d been there the whole time. Matt flinched, turning to look up at her with a mortified expression. How---how had he---

The water shut off immediately, as if sensing that he was now wide awake.

“Oh God,” he muttered, dropping his gaze away from Delilah. “I--I--” What could he say? He was drenched, fully clothed and sitting in his tub like some crazy person. Was he a crazy person? He hadn’t had to hide his night terrors from anyone for so long that he’d completely forgotten, he’d been so bloody relaxed and happy when they’d gone to bed tonight that the last thing on his mind would have been suffering through one of these spells! Even though he was shivering from being soaked to the bone, the heat of his shame burnt his face.

“You can---go back to bed,” he let out, “I’m fine, I’m--go back to bed, it’s fine.” How could he possibly explain himself and not have her think she was mad?

Delilah pulled her hand back slightly as he flinched unsure of what to do. Obviously he wasn’t fine. Nothing about any of this was fine, but what could she do? Maybe the best thing to do was to just go and let him sort this out. They had just started dating after all. Barely together even a month and it was clear that he was embarrassed that she had found him such a state.

But she couldn’t just leave him sitting there! He had to know that, well while it did seem kind of crazy on the surface, she wasn’t judging him for it. There had to be some reason. She had done plenty of things other people thought were crazy. Many for no reason and worth holding a grudge.

“Are you going to come with me?” she asked quietly sitting down on the edge of the tub, trailing her fingers down his arm until she hand his hand in hers. What did he do when he was alone? Just sit there shivering until he was ready to sleep again? How was that even remotely okay? Her wand being in the other room, she couldn’t even help by drying out his clothes.

What was one even suppose to say in these sorts of situations? She didn’t want to pry, but she wanted to know why. Or what, more specifically, had him needing to sit in the shower in the middle of the night. So many questions that she really didn’t feel she had the right to ask, because it certainly felt like she was invading on a private matter.

“I’d rather stay, unless you want me to go. I’ll go if you want. I just--” she trailed off not knowing what to say or do to make things better. Even if she did go back to bed she wouldn’t be able to sleep until he was back in bed too, and she got the feeling that might not even happened if she walked out now. “I’d just rather stay, if that’s alright?”

Matt couldn’t look her in the eye. He felt exposed, it was the paralyzing feeling of being…caught. He’d always put up such a good, healthy and happy front. And, most of the time, he honestly did feel that way. He had good friends, his career was finally taking off, and Delilah made his heart race in ways it hadn’t in a long, long time. So he wasn’t lying, he wasn’t hiding any more, there were just---things he didn’t---couldn’t talk about. Things that put him in such a state that it took something shocking like the ice cold water of his shower to snap him out of it.

Did that make him mad?

His eyes dropped down to their hands. She could’ve panicked and run away, deeming him insane and off his rocker. He certainly wouldn’t have blamed her. But she’d taken his hand and he didn’t want to let her go. They’d been so ridiculously happy these past few weeks...God, way to ruin the honeymoon phase, right?

Matt nodded, not trusting his voice just yet to ask her to stay. He still felt uneasy from the nightmare, as if going back to bed would cause the fire in his head to flare up again. He shifted in the tub, the water having drained away save for his soaked clothes. Matt knew he’d have to explain himself, he just didn’t know how.

“I just need a few minutes,” he said, finally managing to look at Delilah. He’d been fearful that she was going to be staring like she was terrified of him, or ashamed, or repulsed, but it was none of that. Matt tightened his hold on her hand, urging himself to push past the pain.

Delilah nodded slightly offering him a small smile. Never letting go of his hand she shifted her legs over the edge of the tub before sliding down to sit in front of him, resting her chin on her knees. If Matthew needed to sit in the tub for a few minutes, well then they could sit in the tub. It didn’t feel nearly as ridiculous as she was sure it looked. “As long as you need.”

There really wasn’t much else to say. Nothing to do but wait patiently for him. She idly traced the pattern on the sleeve of his shirt with her free hand, never once considering moving her other. Even now she enjoyed just being close to him. Even if it was in a bathtub at three am completely soaked. That must mean that this was more than some drawn out infatuation. That whatever the two of them together was, it wasn’t just her going head over heels into something way too fast without looking.

She wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting there, but at some point her eyes had fluttered shut. It wasn’t long, but she was sure that it had been longer than just a blink. Hopefully he didn’t think her rude, or uncaring. It was just now that she was sitting, and there was silence, the fact that it was so early in the morning washed over her. “Mmm. Sorry.” She hummed sleepily. “I’m still here.”

Matt wearily opened his eyes, having dozed off as well. The tub was far too cramped to spend the rest of the night there, and after however long of a peaceful, uneventful sleep, he felt ready to get up and move. Matt pressed a kiss to the side of her head, resting against her for another moment before finally shifting and standing up. He put his hand out to help her up.

“I’m going to get changed,” he said, his hands going to the side of her face. He wanted to thank her for being so kind and understanding, for not acting as if he were the madman he actually was. Matt knew he owed her answers, and while his chest clenched at the thought of having to actually voice out loud what plagued him, Delilah deserved an explanation. But, they needed a good night’s rest before any of that.

He managed a weak smile, dropping his head forward to nearly press against hers, “Thanks for not letting me drown.”