Returning the Favor

A faint shaking of the pillow disturbed Sylvia's dreamless sleep. She sighed deeply and rolled over beneath her blanket, her eyes fluttering. She was hardly startled by the movement, seeing as used to it by then. After all, she couldn't expected Jon to be still as a statue all through the night. His natural shifting roused her from sleep from time to time, but only for a moment. She doubted she would even remember it in the morning.

Except this time, Jon didn't settle back down. He shook the bed again, the rocking sensation accompanied by a hiss of protest from him.

Frowning, Sylvia groggily forced her eyes to stay open as she turned back toward him, stretching her wings out on the cool surface of the pillow behind her. She gave a start at how illuminated Jon's large, slumbering face was. Someone had left one of the lamps on by the television.

"Jon?" She propped herself up, giving him a concerned once-over.

He was asleep, no doubt about it, but his eyebrows were knitted with distress. Sylvia's perch shook, but the movement came from behind. She twisted around to find a set of thick fingers clutching desperately at the edge of the pillow.

He made a soft noise--half-formed mumbles that Sylvia could barely make out, but they sounded like pleas. She could have sworn her name appeared on his lips. "Sylv… not her… not her, please." Then his words became fewer and incoherent again. The fact that he wasn't normally one to talk in his sleep made it all the more concerning.

Pushing her blanket off, Sylvia sat up on her knees and coaxed her wings to unfold again. She waited a few heartbeats, watching for any sign that Jon was easing back into a restful slumber. But that frown remained on his face, and his nostrils flared the way they did when he was upset. He swallowed hard and shuddered, and that was as much as Sylvia could take while idling by.

Her wings gave a short flutter, carrying across the tiny gap between the pillows. Landing delicately in front of his face, she hesitated, at a loss for what to do. She couldn't heal a nightmare away. He was right there, but she felt so helpless to stop whatever was plaguing his dreams.

Now that look of guilt his wore whenever she awoke from a nightmare began to make sense. But he'd never left her suffering through her troubled dreams, and she certainly wasn't going to give up.

"Jon," she said, her voice quavering and uncertain. Dropping to a seat in front of his face, she laid a hand firmly on the bridge of his nose, praying he wouldn't jerk back from the sudden contact.

He didn't move. His breaths were still short, riddled with mumbles. His eyes squeezed tighter, his frown deepening with more confusion that distress. Sylvia cocked her head, marveling that she could have prompted the change. Somehow, she felt like she had gotten his attention even though he was still fast asleep.

"Jon?" she tried again.

He slept on, but his breathing began to slow.

Encouraged, she ran her hand up and down the bridge of his nose. "It's okay. I'm here, Jon. I'm right here." She leaned over and pressed a kiss between his eyes.

Just when she assured herself that the bed had gone still again, a rustle of movement behind her intruded upon the tranquility. Faster than she could turn around, Jon's fingers were at her wings, her back. Sylvia bit back a yelp, immediately thinking about how devastatingly tight his grip on the pillow had been. He could do the same to her without even knowing it.

"H-hey!" she stammered, trying to squirm away.

But there was little to squirm away from. She remained on edge as his fingertips moved gingerly against her wings, the back of her arms, her waist. Gradually, the tension loosened from her shoulders and she heaved a sigh of relief. In his sleep, Jon's caress was a little clumsier than Sylvia was used to, but there was enough familiar gentleness to bring a fond smile to her face.

His breathing had evened out entirely. His expression relaxed. As if falling back to sleep with the rest of him, his hand dropped behind her, the tip of his thumb resting lightly against her thigh.

After a beat of consideration, she curled up on her side where she was, resting in his shadow of his hand and gazing upon his face.

"Sweet dreams, Jon," she murmured.