For the Both of Us

There was something so wrong about a child crying. A baby crying showed it was alive when it was inevitably hurt; a teen who cried over a supposedly lost love, but it was like pulling teeth when a child cried. Ebeneer was thankful that whoever was crying was almost done by the sounds of it. The wails become sharp intakes as the child finds little comfort in their guardian. 

Realization struck the Geologist like a ten-ton hammer; he was the guardian and was still in bed. With a groan, he pulled his legs to the side of the bed, fumbling for his cane. The remnants of sleep heavy on his head and eyes, it was a struggle to orientate himself. He couldn’t find that blasted cane; could he have sworn it was right beside his bed? 

The drowsiness must have been messing with his senses; he couldn’t see or smell, and the crying had stopped. Wait- NO!

Quickly the Geologist attempted another grab at where he had sworn he had put the cane. Finding it missing, he cursed himself and stood to his feet. Horrific pain bloomed from his injured leg. Still, that mattered little; he needed to get to Kell NOW. Who knew what had happened? Had a burglar of some sort come in? An animal? Please let it be a house cat or something. 

Before he could take more than 3 steps, the door to the bedroom opened with a soft creeeeeeeeeak. A young child was on the other side of the door, features shadowed by the warm light of the hallway. Even with a shadowed face, Ebeneer could feel their eyes on him. 

The youngin stared him down, unflinching as Ebeneer felt moments away from having a heart attack. Hissing slightly with each movement, he hopped back to the safety of the bed, where weight could be taken off his bum leg. “Kell, sweetie, you gave me a fright. Is everything ok? Are you hurt?”

As stoic as ever, Kell said nothing as if waiting for someone to come along and pick them up. Knowing damn well he couldn’t do it, Ebeneer reached for his glasses. Which thankfully were right where they should be on his bedside table. With a flick to open the spectacles, he was gifted with the lovely ability to see. 

Looking back at Kell brought mixed emotions. First was the elation to clear the blurry darkness so he could see the young child he cared for. The other emotion was strange; it came with the reminder they were crying just moments before. Moist eyes reddened with tears that had come out in torrents.

Ebeneer cursed himself; how dare he forget about his foremost duty. To keep Kell happy, healthy, and safe. Words escaped him now, trying to think of the proper string of words to fix this. Or begin the process of it. 

“Was- did you have a nightmare, sweetie?”

Kell kept their silence but moved forward and next to the bed. Hand resting on the footboard, those tear-stained eyes piercing through the glasses, analyzing Ebeneer like a machine. Their mouth opened to let out a weak attempt at a brave voice, all that effort for just the simple sound of 

“Yes.”

He nodded his head, a pitiful attempt at an apology in this situation. 

“Was it the same one as before, with-.”

He didn’t want to say it. Kell knew which one he was referring to; he knew saying it out loud would just make things worse for the both of them. Kell nodded, no words uttered, rather more shuffling as they made their way to stand next to Ebeneer.

Without much struggle, Kell climbed up onto the bed and sat next to their guardian. For a moment, silence weighed heavy on the both of them; it was the silence that came with a mutual distaste for the situation. Still, neither of them really wants it to end. A paradox that came with being the guardian of a child, Ebeneer supposed. 

Before he could do anything, he felt the head of Kell lay softly on his arm. The silence didn’t end, but the awkwardness grew and festered into a muddled sense of enjoyment and confusion. 

“I'm sorry that the nightmares are recurring. I get them sometimes too. After a while, they get easier.” 

“Ok, Uncle Eb, thank you.” 

His heart skipped a beat; this wasn’t a failure, then! He just had to keep on this track. He can fix this whole situation and get the both of them back to bed. 

Turned his head to a clock, only illuminated by the hallway light, the hands pointed to the time, four in the morning, and they were both awake. Next, his gaze went down to the top of Kell’s head, they were silent again, but it wasn’t as if there was anything for them to say. It was his turn to speak again, and words caught in his throat. Hesitation would be the end of him, but he had to find the words now. Make sure both of them can sleep. 

Moving his position just enough so he could position the arm at the perfect angle to give a strange side hug. Thankfully Kell’s head didn’t have to be moved from his shoulder to accomplish this task, and no shifts or noises from the young child showed him he was doing this right. 

“Do you need anything, sweetie? I can promise you that I’ll get you whatever you need.”

More silence, raising the feeling that he had somehow made an error. Kell spoke instead as he was about to open his mouth in a hasted attempt to rectify a perceived wrong.

“I want to sleep in your bed.” 

Ebeneer had to take a moment to process the request. Why would and how would that help? He was far from the most comforting figure while awake; being asleep just meant there was no effort being put into it. 

“I think it best if maybe-“

Kell’s head moved off of his shoulder, looking up into Ebeneer’s eyes once more. Where there was once emotion missing from their face, now there was just the faintest expression of longing. They just needed comfort, and he was attempting to deny it from them. 

“I think that’s a good idea, Kell, you get comfy, and I’ll find my cane. Grab you a glass of water, ok?”

The silence was not stressful this time because he felt the child's grip on his torso. A powerful grip which, even if Ebeneer could, he would never be able to bring himself to pry the child away. 

“Do you want me to just stay then? To just-”

“Yes, don’t go.”

It was official then; with his one good leg, he shuffled them closer to the head of the bed. When he reached where he could lay his head on a pillow, he kept moving. His back pressed against the headboard, Ebeneer slowly moved his pillow so that his head would be cushioned even as Kell clung to him. 

He sat there in silence; this type was not tense, not stressful, or even peaceful. The silence was just that now, a void of noise. It was so empty that Ebeneer had to question if he was dreaming. These thoughts were dashed as the sound of soft and heavy breathing came from Kell. The familiar rhythm of breath from a child is now deep in sleep. 

The Geologist took the spectacles from his face. Folding them quietly to place on the nightstand. With that done, he now had to find some way to get comfortable. He tried to maneuver himself to allow a curved back, but Kell groaned from their sleep without so much as an inch of progress. 

The Geologist thought of cursing his luck. But no, he was rather fortunate. Despite the back pain, this position would bring him tomorrow; Kell was asleep, which mattered most now. A small smile graced the lips of the Geologist. It was fine being in a little bit of pain. 

Kell would be much happier tomorrow with proper sleep. That wasn’t just for Kell’s health and happiness. “This is for the both of us, rest well, Kell.” He whispered as sleep began to grace him once more.