We cleaned up slowly. Got ready for bed together. Brushed teeth. Changed into sleep clothes. Normal routines that felt precious after everything we'd been through.
In bed, Julian curled against my chest. "I love you. Thank you for tonight. For letting me reclaim this."
"I love you too. I'm so proud of you. Of how hard you're working to heal. Of how strong you are."
He fell asleep quickly. Exhausted from therapy and emotional processing and the intimacy we'd shared.
I lay awake for a while. Watching him sleep. Grateful for his resilience. Grateful he was healing. Grateful he'd chosen to stay with me despite everything.
Eventually I fell asleep too. Holding him close. Both of us finally at peace.
***
At 2 AM, Julian woke with a sharp gasp.
I was already awake. I slept lightly now. Always aware. Always ready.
"You're safe," I said immediately. The routine we'd developed. "You're with me. In our bed. In our apartment. You're safe."
"Elio—" His voice was panicked. Disoriented. Still caught between nightmare and reality.
"I'm here. I've got you. Focus on my voice. On my hands." I rubbed his back gently. Grounding. "You're safe. He's dead. He can't hurt you. You're safe."
Julian's breathing was ragged. Fast. He was shaking.
"Tell me five things you can see," I said. Another grounding technique Pavel had taught us.
"The window. The dresser. The lamp. Your face. The clock."
"Good. Four things you can touch."
"The sheets. Your skin. The pillow. My hand."
"Three things you can hear."
"Your voice. Traffic outside. The heater."
His breathing was slowing. Coming back to reality. Coming back to the present instead of trapped in the past.
"Two things you can smell."
"Your soap. Clean laundry."
"One thing you can taste."
"Toothpaste."
"Good. You're here. You're present. You're safe." I kept rubbing his back. Steady. Grounding. "Do you remember where you are?"
"Our apartment. Our bed. With you. I'm safe." He took a shuddering breath. "Sorry. I thought they were getting better."
"They are. This one was shorter than usual. You came back faster. That's progress."
"Doesn't feel like progress."
"It is. Trust me. A month ago these lasted twenty minutes. Tonight was maybe five. That's improvement."
I got up and got him water. Got him settled back in bed.
