everything was back to normal… at least, somewhat adjacent of it. the tumour was gone, mostly. ivan was getting therapy; three days a week, one-on-one sessions with a trained professional. he was making progress. andrew was often there alongside ivan at these sessions, holding his hand in a method to console him through the procedures or just supporting ivan with his presence. ivan was extremely grateful to the other for these acts of support; if he wouldn’t have known any better, he would’ve believed that andrew would’ve just left him after the incident with the axe. during said incident, ivan had gotten a bit too reckless with his father’s old hatchet after andrew expressed his want for departure from ivan’s apartment. he’d hit andrew over the head with it, & andrew still had the scar on his head to prove the event, yet ivan had snapped out of his stupor after the impact. he’d apologised profusely, & andrew… stayed. he didn’t leave. ivan knew he truly didn’t deserve andrew.

ivan had nightmares every night, despite his therapeutic sessions. he had nightmares of andrew leaving, of ivan harming andrew more than he had that night, of his father coming back & doing unspeakable things to ivan for daring to care so much for a person of the same gender… usually, ivan would toss & turn in his bed all night & then andrew would console him in the morning. however, this night the nightmares were particularly troublesome, so much so that it got to the point where ivan stumbled out of his bed in a daze, blindly heading over to where andrew slept in the living room. andrew didn’t sleep on the floor anymore; instead, he had been set up on the couch, a much better alternative. ivan stumbled over to his sofa now, dropping to his knees clumsily beside andrew’s blissfully sleeping face. his trembling hands weakly grasped andrew’s sleeve, shaking the other man gently as he leant in closer, wide, terrified eyes boring into the other’s shut ones.

“andrew… andrew, i can’t sleep…”