Nightmares have always been a constant in his life. From the day he was forced to abandon his home —and his beloved mother— to become a Gurkha, to when he had to make his first kill. And even after escaping that chained life and becoming a Mercenary, nightmares have always been present. Every single episode in his life has been revived over and over and over in tenebrous dreams.

With the new opportunity to go to that manor and change his luck, he thought that he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, something that would make him grab every layer of his past, fold them into a new future, and make it something that felt worth living for.

But life might be cruel to the likes of him. What seemed to be his ticket to paradise, the more time he spent there, the more he realized that it felt like hell. That was when he knew he was paying the consequences of his actions, having to not only play those deadly games over and over; feeling his skin being brutally torn apart, hit, and murdered every single time. It was obvious to assume that the nightmares would become a constant in his life, that there was no day he didn't wake up sweating, with his heart in his hand and his eyes full of heartbreaking tears.

One day, someone pointed out how bad his eye bags were looking.

"Nothin’ new." Naib defended himself.

"But… have you considered visiting Miss Mesmer to talk about it"

Those words were like a cross to him. At first, he didn't want to ask for help. He didn't trust Psychologists either. He always considered that in a normal situation, if he talked about the hells he lived in battle when he was part of the British military, he would have ended up either in jail or in a mental asylum. He wasn't going to put himself in that sort of danger when the nicest thing he could imagine getting was a lobotomy. But when his nightmares were unavoidable, and his performance in matches affected the rest of the team, Naib found himself in front of the room of the Psychologist.

He knew it would be over for him when he and Ada Mesmer had to talk about his life and why his past was projecting his anxiety and traumas into his dreams.

What he didn't think, though, was what a drainer situation those sessions were for his body. He felt sucked from his spirit, and somehow he was done with everything. Every little window of lore he opened to the Psychologist, a wall of his defensive shell crashed.

Suddenly, the ‘man of unbreakable will’ facade he created to protect himself from others and life itself now felt like a house of cards. Just a little blow and everything would fall.

The Prospector noticed this, too. The man who was not even his lover but neither a stranger in Naib’s life—with many benefits like those who were called a couple—hadn’t seen a strand of Naib’s hair recently.

One day, he heard about his situation when he saw the pair of lovebirds talking in the dining room. Emil asked the Psychologist about Subedar’s condition, to which Ada responded that it was confidential even for him, her lover.

But what about Norton, then Was he also out of Naib's business

That didn't sit well with him. And when the Mercenary least expected it, he found the Prospector knocking on his door in the middle of the night.

"You look like shit." Contrary to his concern, Norton’s mouth always rushed to fail to reflect his feelings for the Mercenary.

"Tell me something I don't know, Campbell..." Naib, trying not to play the same game as Norton, pinched the bridge of his nose and defeatedly sighed. "What do you want"

"Visit."

"I don't have the time to indulge yours... whatever you are thinking right now." Then, as usual, he returned to his room, leaving the door open.

That was a "Norton and Naib thing," if you want to call it. Since they weren't precisely boyfriends, they indulged in that sort of unnamed relationship. Mostly carnal, but since the two of them came from a similar background, they found comfort in the presence of the other, and ‘licking each other's wounds’ didn't sound bad for either of them.

So the door was left open for him—a non-verbal invitation to be part of that nuisance situation.

"I heard you were visiting Mesmer." Norton, as usual, went directly to the grain of the situation. He was worried about him, but as he showed already, he wasn't the best at expressing it, and what he said was the best he could offer.

"Is this now your Business"

"By the way you are reacting, apparently it is now." Closing the door, the Prospector implied he wasn't planning to leave until he heard something from Subedar.

"Why…” Something inside of him squeezed.

"Would you believe me if I say I'm worried"

"As if." Naib tried to laugh at him, but when he noticed Norton was as serious as ever, he fell silent.

"What"

"Nothing."

"Talk."

"Don't wanna."

"Then I'll make you talk."

In a matter of seconds, where Naib could swear Norton was ready to take his words out of him by force, he found himself with Norton firmly grabbing his face, with a thumb dearly caressing his cheek, and suddenly their lips were meeting. In a blink of an eye, Naib was left blank with the warm sensation of Norton's lips on his mouth—he missed it already.

"Well"

Naib's silence was immediately replaced by a pair of involuntary tears sheltering in his eyes. A few drops became threads of tears falling from his cheeks; he felt so tiny and defenseless to react in a way that wasn’t the one he was showing. Naib could only think how warm Norton felt when he suddenly found himself surrounded by that pair of strong arms.

Norton felt his shirt start to become wet in the place where Naib's face was supported. His awkward and insecure hands began to caress the Mercenary's back as if it was the way for him to let him know he wasn’t alone.

And maybe, for that day, it was okay to indulge in the sensation Norton was giving him as he let it out in tears and words half cut by his whimper, half loud by how much it hurt him. So he stood there, his hands grabbing the shirt of the man embracing him, wrinkling it with the strength he was using and his lack of control over his body.

They stayed like that for a while. None of them said a word; only the warmth of Norton’s body comforted Naib. And it was okay for them; none of them was a person of words, which was why Naib felt a little piece of home when he and Norton were together.

Slowly, the tears became less and less, but he wasn't ready to leave the other man's side. Norton caught the indirect when Naib's face snuggled against his chest.

With little difficulty, he led them to the untidied bed of the Mercenary, and both of them let their bodies melt against the mattress and the messy sheets under them. Naib stayed over Norton's body while the bed supported the Prospector's back. The words were still lacking, and the embrace became firmer —intimate. Naib wanted to say it was okay to leave now that he calmed down. However, he didn't want to be abandoned. His eyes were weighing a lot after draining them from crying. He thought that maybe it was fine to sleep, and it seemed Norton caught that too because after a while, he was the one finally breaking the ice—even though it appeared the ice had melted already in their embrace.

"Sleep."

Naib bit his lip, then in an attempt to fight him back, he just said:

"... Just resting."

Then a chuckle came from the Prospector, shaking his head because no matter how tired Naib was, he always found a way to contradict him.

"Sure, whatever you say."

And he was okay with that if it was only with him.