Grey shot up in bed. Ice cold sweat dripped from his brow and soaked the sheets. He gasped. "Petra?" For a moment, his vision blurred and he couldn't see anything in the pitch black room. "Petra!"
A tiny light sparked in the darkness. He heard her move before he saw her. Her pale face appeared above him. Her long, blonde hair brushed his cheek. "What's the matter, Grey?" Her voice was soft and gentle. The moment he heard it, he relaxed. He reached for her.
"Petra."
She wrapped her fingers around his. His hands were slick with sweat. "It's okay. It was a dream. Did you have a nightmare?"
He sighed. "I saw a little boy. He was shot. I was there. I saw him die."
He could barely see her face in the dim light, but he thought he saw her brow furrow.
"Was it a memory?"
She stared at him. "I don't know." She smoothed his moist dark hair back from his forehead. "Go back to sleep."
"Will you stay with me?"
She sighed, but she did not move away from him. "I'll be right here."
He nodded and leaned back on the pillows. His eyes were already closing. For a moment, Petra was still. He tucked her hand against his cheek.
His breath was slow and even. She tried to tug her hand away, but even in sleep, he didn't let her go. She sighed. For several long moments, she waited. He didn't release her. Finally, she curled up beside him. He was warm and his chest rose and fell with such a calm, steady rhythm, she was asleep in mere moments. She didn't dream of blood or war or Scarlet's men converging upon her in a dark alley. All she saw was grey.