Chapter Text
That night Bill wakes to a hand fumbling for his and the sound of ragged breathing. He launches himself away automatically, throwing himself out of bed and grabbing the gun under the bed.
He frantically scans the gloom for the invading Infected. There’s a human-shaped lump sitting on the bed and he’s aiming instinctively before his sleep-slowed brain catches up.
"Jesus." Bill lets out a heavy breath, lowering the gun and swallowing the panic that threatens to turn into completely unreasonable anger at Frank. “You ok?”
Frank doesn’t reply, and that’s when Bill notices how fast his breathing his, how he barely flinched at him aiming a gun at him.
"Hey, what’s wrong?" He climbs back on the bed and only hesitates a moment before he takes Frank’s hands, concerned to find them shaking.
"Frank?" He takes hold of his face, finding tears on his cheeks which he wipes away with his thumbs but still they continue to pour. Frank’s chest is heaving with shallow gasping breaths.
"Sorry," he chokes. "Didn't mean- I-" The words fragment into sobbing breaths. Bill grabs his hand again.
“Hey, hey. You're ok. I got you” He tries to put his arms around him but Frank flinches away. Bill pulls back with his hands spread placatingly. “Ok. Sorry. Lemme- can I switch on the light?”
Frank manages to choke a “Yeah“. When their eyes have adjusted to the light, Bill only grows more concerned. Frank’s eyes are red raw like he’s been crying for a while and he’s looking at Bill like he can barely see him as he kneels on the bed again.
“Ok, you wanna tell me what’s wrong?"
Frank shakes his head vehemently. “Just-" He reaches shakily for his hands and grips them hard. "Can you just talk? Please?"
"What about?" Bill’s not the best conversationalist any time, particularly not in the middle of the night, but he'll do anything for Frank.
"I don’t- anything- doesn't matter-"
So Bill does. To start with he talks about what he plans to do tomorrow, the bits of the fence that need repairing, the snare lines he needs to walk. But he soon realises talk of the outside world is making it worse, as Frank’s breathing speeds up more and his grip on his hands tightens.
“Shh, shh,” he tries to soothe him. “Hey, you know you asked for the recipe for that rabbit right? Why don’t I tell you that.”
So he talks through the method, trying to keep his voice calming, give Frank something to latch onto which he realises he needs, and slowly, slowly his breath calms a little. Bill settles them both against the headboard and rubs his back soothingly as the sobs ebb.
Eventually Frank turns to him and gives him a watery smile.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. You reckon you can sleep now?” There have been dark circles under Frank's eyes since Bill met him. He'd just assumed they were from the ordeal he'd been through before he got here. Now he wonders if the ordeal is still continuing for Frank. How long he'd been awake before he'd woken Bill. If there had been other times before that, when he hadn’t woken him.
"Think so," Frank says uncertainly. But when Bill flicks off the light his breathing picks up again.
"I got you," Bill murmurs, reaching over and draping an arm over him protectively, rubbing his thumb soothingly over his heart.
"Could you sing?" Frank begs.
Bill flushes, surprised. "Uh- ok?"
So he sings. It's the same song he played for Frank the first day.
It feels strange, releasing the soft tender words into the darkness, without the accompaniment of the piano. But Frank's breathing beside him gets steadier and he moves closer to him.
By the end of the song his head is resting against his chest, and Bill sings the last words softly into his ear like a lullaby.
"And I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time."