You wake to a sound that isn’t quite a scream.

It’s a low, choking noise—like someone trying to crawl out of their own skin.

The room is dark, but you don’t need light to know where Ian is.

He’s thrashing in bed, eyes squeezed shut, face twisted like he’s fighting something invisible.

You’re up in an instant.

“Ian,” you whisper, shaking his shoulder gently.

He jerks, then settles back into the nightmare, not fully awake.

You stay close, heart pounding, because you’ve seen this before.

The night terrors don’t feel like dreams.

They feel like memory.

Like something trying to claw its way out.

You sit on the edge of the bed and wrap your arms around him, holding him firmly enough to keep him grounded, soft enough not to startle him.

His breathing is rapid. His hands claw at the sheets.

“Hey,” you whisper, voice steady. “It’s me. You’re here. You’re safe.”

His eyes flicker open for a second, wide and panicked.

“Don’t,” he whispers, voice raw.

“Don’t what?” you ask, keeping your tone calm.

He tries to speak but can’t. His face is the same expression it always is when the terror takes him—like he’s trapped inside his own mind.

You tighten your hold, gentle but firm.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”

He shudders, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll start fighting you.

But instead, he grips your shirt like a lifeline.

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

You run your thumb along his wrist, feeling his pulse pounding.

“Stay with me,” you whisper. “Stay awake with me.”

He nods, eyes glassy. “Okay.”

You speak to him softly, telling him things he can latch onto—simple, grounded things.

“Tell me what you see,” you say.

He blinks slowly.

“I see… a hallway,” he whispers.

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what you hear.”

“Footsteps,” he says, voice trembling.

“Okay,” you reply. “But you’re here. You’re safe. Those footsteps aren’t real. They’re in your head.”

He swallows hard.

“I can’t—” he starts.

“Yes you can,” you say, quiet and firm. “You’re doing it. You’re here. You’re alive.”

He squeezes your hand, and you can feel his body slowly begin to loosen.