(A/N: This was based on a headcanon I'd been meaning to turn into a oneshot for ages, but I kept having zero motivation to write anything.
Ash and Misty are probably about 18-19 in this and have been in a relationship for a while. The "thing with Victini" Ash talks about happened in the 14th movie; the rest is made up.)

Night Terrors

It's not something that happens often, not really, but it's still often enough for her to notice eventually.

Ash has never been a quiet sleeper: even on the calmest of nights he's constantly turning and kicking and yanking away the blankets and snoring like a freight train, and she's getting used to waking up crammed in a corner of the bed because he sprawls arms and legs everywhere. But sometimes his breath grows quicker, shallower; sometimes his body tenses up and shivers under her fingers, sometimes his brow crumples in a harsh frown and his face screws tight as if with pain, his hands clasping the sheet until his knuckles turn white.

She thinks nothing of it the first couple times it happens—after all, who doesn't have nightmares once in a while. The third time (or fourth, she hasn't really kept count) is months later because he's just back from one of his travels, and she wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of him whimpering. She blinks at the digital clock marking 3:52, then rolls over and shakes him gently before wrapping her arm around his curled up shape. "Hey," she whispers, her voice still drowsy. He jerks awake as she lays a kiss on his shoulder. "Everything alright?"

He grumbles a "yeah", even though the way his fingers urgently clasp her wrist seems to say otherwise. But it's not a discussion for not-quite four a.m., when she can barely keep her eyes open, so she just replies okay and hides her face against his back, her arm still around his waist, and drifts into sleep again not long after. When she wakes up in the morning he's somehow managed to push her on the edge of the mattress again and is sleeping soundly on his stomach, face buried in the pillow. She runs a hand through her tangled hair and gets up to go feed the gym's pokémon, and kind of forgets that there was something she meant to bring up.

When it happens again she waits for him to wake up, her head propped up on her elbow. He's facing the wall, but she knows when he's awake from the sudden sharp breath he takes in and from the way his body relaxes after a few moments, as he becomes aware of his surroundings. She purses her lips.

"Ash?"

He lifts his head slightly, attempting to look at her from above his shoulder. "…'mmyeah?"

"Do you have nightmares?"

There's silence for a second or two. Then he raises one arm to rub his eyes and rolls on his back. "Yeah, of course. Who doesn't?"

"No, I mean," she pushes a strand of hair away from her eyes, shaking her head a little. "Does that happen often? Because I've noticed it a few times now."

He removes the arm from his eyes to stare at her. "How do you notice that I'm having a nightmare?"

She shrugs. "I'm sleeping right next to you, I can hear you. I'm just saying, if there's something wrong you can tell me, you know right?"

"There's nothing wrong," he retorts. "Do we have to talk about it right now? 'Cause it's—" he squints at the clock "—like three a.m."

"Yeah, and I'm awake because I heard you groan in your sleep, at like three a.m. Which is why I'm asking you now."

He rests the crook of his elbow over his face again. "Well, there's nothing to talk about anyway, I told you. Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," but his arm is still conveniently hiding his eyes. "I think I'd have noticed. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Misty sighs. "Alright, as you wish," she gives up, and drops back down on the mattress irritated. Ash lifts his arm a little to peek at her.

"What, are you mad at me now?"

"I'm not mad." And she isn't, not really, although it comes out a bit harsh. "Just go back to sleep."

He complies, after a couple moments. He has no more nightmares for the night, nor for a while after.

—-

his fingers are numb from the cold. trying to move them hurts—trying to move everything hurts, as if his bones were about to shatter, crumble to pieces like ice. closing his eyes he can almost see the cracks, harsh and sudden, cutting deep.

he can't breathe. the air isn't even air anymore, it feels like daggers in his chest. his head is about to explode, too heavy and too light all at once. the realization surfaces slowly, almost unsurprisingly, like something floating in murky water: I think I'm going to die. he can feel tears freeze in his eyelashes, but he can't see them. he can't see anything.

(I think I'm going to die.)

it takes every bit of strength to squeeze words out of his throat, but somehow he manages to force his lips open one more time and whisper again in the cold, cold, cold: "I'm sorry."

then there's fingers grasping his shoulder and yanking him awake, and it takes him a handful of moments to realize that that's not

in the dream

that the cold was just in the dream and now it's gone, that breathing no longer feels like his lungs filling with freezing water. He blinks as the outlines of Misty's bedroom become clear again: the edge of the nightstand in the greenish glow of the digital clock, the window, the dim light from outside drawing rectangles on the floor and on their blankets. Her hand shakes him again.

"Hey. It's alright, it's just me. And Pikachu."

"I know," he grumbles. He rolls on his back to meet her eyes. She watches him with a slight frown, her hair falling messily on her forehead. She sits up after a moment and crosses her arms.

"So what's wrong?"

He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Nothing."

"Yeah, I don't believe you," she retorts. Pikachu curls up against his side, in the warm spot where his body was a minute ago. He's known about his nightmares for a while. "And this keeps happening, so I'm asking again: what's wrong?"

"And I'm telling you again, nothing," he insists. "It's just nightmares. I have nightmares once in a while. Like everyone. Do you never have any?"

"Of course I do. But this isn't just once in a while, and besides I don't remember you ever having nightmares when I travelled with you."

He can't hold back a grin. "Well, I didn't usually sleep in your bed back then though, did I?"

She shoots him a glare, her cheeks flushing slightly red. "Well yeah, of course. But we slept in the same room all the time, so I think I'd have heard you talk in your sleep at least once or twice."

"…Wait, talk in my sleep?"

"Yeah." She keeps her arms crossed on her chest. "You just said 'I'm sorry'."

He blinks. "Oh."

"What are you sorry for?"

"Nothing." It's true. He rubs a hand over one eye. "I was just… remembering something, I guess. From a lot of time ago."

Misty stares at him for a couple moments still, then lies back down, propping her head up on her elbow. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Her tone somehow makes it sound like whatever answer he gives will be the wrong one. "Yeah. 'Course."

She narrows her eyes. "Then why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

He sighs again. "Because nothing's wrong," he says one more time, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "I already told ya! It's just a couple nightmares, you don't have to worry."

"Well, considering you probably wouldn't want anyone to worry about you even if you were lying in a pool of your own blood yeah, now I think I do."

Ash looks back at her. "Just— why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad!" she snaps. Then shoots him another fuming glare and abruptly turns to the other side, sinking back between the blankets. "Alright, maybe I am. Because my stupid boyfriend won't even trust me enough to let me try to help him."

"I don't need you to—" he stops and half-sits up. "Wait, what do you mean I don't trust you? Of course I do."

She keeps staring at the wall. "Sure."

"What, are you going to be cross with me now just because I don't know what you want me to say?"

She shrugs and says nothing. Ash puffs his cheeks, pouting for a moment. Then drops back down and rolls over to her to lay an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She tries to push him away.

"Get off. I'm still mad."

"I know." He curls up around her, ignoring her attempts to wiggle out of his hug. "I'm sorry."

"Liar," she grumbles, but her body stops fighting, making space to accommodate to the corners of his. Ash buries his face in her hair. She's warm, and it's so relieving after all that cold, even if it was just dreamed cold, not-real cold.

"You just don't need to worry, okay?" he says, his voice smothered in her orange locks. She sighs.

"You know, that's kind of part of the deal when you're close to someone. They'll worry about you."

He curls his lips in a grin. "I know. And I'm really glad you do, or things might have ended not-so-well a couple times—"

"That's an understatement—"

"—but this time you don't need to. Alright?"

She replies with a begrudging "mmmh". Ash lays a kiss on her hair, then adjusts himself a little more comfortably around the shape of her body, closing his eyes.

He's never given much thought to the nightmares, himself. It's just dreams after all: they're only real for a little while. They go away when he wakes up. No use worrying about them, really, or at least it's what he's been telling himself since they started years ago. Even if sometimes the feelings linger for a handful of moments as he stares at the dark, his heart hammering in his throat.

Besides, no one else's noticed before. Except Pikachu, of course.

Doesn't matter right now anyway, he decides, as he snuggles against her warmth. Right now everything is fine as it is.

—-

In the end he does tell her.

It takes a lot more nights of being awakened by the sound of him groaning or whimpering, and a lot more of her insisting, and a lot more of her trying to hold a grudge and him trying and eventually managing to kiss or hug her grudge away (he sneaks up behind her once and holds her while whispering I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry against her neck, and his words tickle and it's hard to stay angry when you have to bite your lip to try to keep from bursting into laughter). Then one night she sits with her arms crossed and watches him chew at his lip as he tries to avoid her accusatory glance, one arm thrown over his still-sweaty forehead, and waits for him to say something—anything, really, other than "don't worry".

"Will you—" he finally spits out, then stops for a moment, breathes in and out again. "Will you stop being mad if I tell you?"

She sighs. "Yes."

He takes another deep breath. "It's nothing, really," he states beforehand, and she rolls her eyes. "It's just—well, sometimes I have these dreams about things that happened."

"What things?"

Ash bites his lip again. Hard. "Just… things. You know…"

"No I don't, unless you tell me."

He doesn't say anything. She sighs again and lies back down by his side.

"Just tell me about one of them."

Silence for a few seconds still. "Alright," he grumbles then, puffing his cheeks. "Okay, huh, remember that time I told you about that whole thing with Victini when I was in Unova?"

Misty frowns a bit. She remembers—although it was years ago. He'd rambled for a while over the videophone about macarons and a flying castle, and she remembers thinking he looked tired. He'd insisted that everything was fine when she asked, though. "Yeah."

"Well, I didn't exactly tell you everything that happened."

"I kind of figured."

"Yeah, well." He looks at the ceiling, biting his lip still. "I told you I got trapped in the castle with Pikachu and Victini and then Victini used that special move to destroy the pillars and free us, right? That was… kinda the short version."

"And the long version is?"

"The long version," there's an uncertainty somewhere in his voice, making it sound strange, smaller; "is that I was—we were stuck in there for a while. I mean, it wasn't that long actually, probably just a few minutes, but the castle was flying higher and higher really fast and it was getting really cold, and—"

He stops. Pikachu snuggles against his shoulder, and Ash's fingers brush his short fur as if looking for something to hold on to. Something in her chest aches.

"—then it started getting really hard to breathe. And then I couldn't move, and I couldn't see, and then I can't remember that well but I think I told Victini I was sorry because I'd promised it I'd take it to see the ocean, and—"

He closes his eyes for a moment. "—I thought, I'm going to die. And—well, I don't usually think about that a lot, you know?"

"I figured that too," she hears herself answer. Her voice sounds strange as well, shaking slightly at the foundations. He looks at her for a second, then away again.

"It was just—it was different that time, being stuck there. I just couldn't do anything. It was…"

"Scary?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

She brings a hand to her temples. "Well congrats, now you know how the rest of us feel every time you almost get yourself killed. Why didn't you tell me about it before?"

"Didn't want you to worry," he says, and for a moment she considers smothering him with the pillow. "Well anyway, then Victini saved us and everything was fine so I didn't really think about it anymore. Except then I started having nightmares about it sometimes."

"And then what else?"

Ash looks at her. "Huh?"

"You said things, plural. That's one. Do you have nightmares about something else too?"

"Oh." He bites his lips again. "Yeah. A few things."

"Like what?"

"Well," he pauses briefly, his eyes escaping her glance again "there was this one time we ran into this guy who stole pokémon for money, sort of like that Hunter J woman from Sinnoh, I told you about her, yeah? Well, this guy was threatening one of my friends, so I tried to shove him away, but he had a gun—"

"A gun?"

"Yeah. And he held it to my head, like, he had me get on my knees and all and I could feel it there." His fingers run to the back of his head. "And then he pulled the trigger—"

Her eyes snap wide. "What?!"

"—and it wasn't loaded, but there was that second before I realized, you know?"

Misty stares at him, then rolls to her back and looks at the ceiling for a handful of moments taking a long, long breath. Ash lifts his head a bit.

"You okay?"

"You just told me some guy fired a gun at your head."

"Yeah, but it wasn't loa—"

"He fired. A gun. At your head."

"…Yeah. But—"

"Say 'but it wasn't loaded' one more time and I'll strangle you. Why didn't you tell me anything about it?!"

"Because now you're worried, and I didn't want you to worry."

She shoots him a glare. "Well, I'd like to know if my boyfriend almost gets murdered!"

"It just didn't seem that bad once it was over."

"Oh, yeah, no big deal. Just about got your head blown off."

"…Wait, now you're mad?"

"Mad? Well yeah, you didn't even consider telling me that you could very well have died. How could I possibly be mad?!"

He frowns, not quite seeming to catch on her sarcasm. Then shrugs. "Well, I didn't die."

She brings a hand to her face and sighs again. "Forget it. What else?"

She's not really sure she wants to hear the answer anymore. He thinks about it for a moment: "Huh, remember that time I ended up in the hospital?"

"Yeah." She got the phonecall from Delia early in the morning, starting with he's fine now so don't worry, but. "Let me guess, you weren't as fine as you wanted me to think."

"No, I mean, yeah, I was fine when we talked on the phone. But—before, when I went back in the burning building to—"

"You went back in the building?"

"Yeah, I was outside, but this girl couldn't find one of her pokémon and she thought it was still inside so I went back to look for it. And I found it, but then the ceiling collapsed and we were stuck inside. And I was trying to find a way out, but there just wasn't one and the fire was getting closer and I didn't think—well, after a while I didn't think we'd get out. And then I think I passed out from the smoke and when I woke up I was outside on a stretcher, and the girl's pokémon was fine too, so I guess someone found us in time, but sometimes I dream that I'm still stuck there."

Misty presses her hand over her eyes. "Alright. That's—enough."

"I thought you wanted to know."

"It's not that." Her chest feels heavy. She thinks of his body still and colder than the ocean in her arms; thinks of him lying on the shore blue-lipped and pale and still not waking up. "I still want to know, alright? All of it. Just not right now."

He's silent for a handful of seconds. "Are you okay…?" he asks again then.

She takes the hand off to look at him. "You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This! Risking your life like it's nothing! There are people who care about you, you know?"

"I don't—"

"You just told me you nearly froze to death, got shot in the head and burned alive! No wonder you have nightmares sometimes," she almost shouts, then forces herself to take a breath. "These things you do without thinking, Ash, they're scary, even if you don't realize it. They're terrifying. And you're already extremely lucky to be alive and in one piece, some of it is bound to leave a mark somehow."

He looks away and puffs his cheeks. "See, that's why I didn't tell you. 'Cause I knew you'd get worried and make a big deal out of it."

"Oh so wanting you alive is making a big deal?" She shakes her head. "And you're not making things better by not telling me. You should tell me when something is wrong! You should let me try to help you."

"I don't need help," he grumbles, pouting. Misty sighs.

"You don't have to be fine all the time, Ash," she tells him. Then shakes her head again and turns to the other side, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

"So you're still mad?"

"Yeah. That was… kind of a lot to take in, you know? I'm going to need a bit."

He says nothing for a moment. Then she hears the springs of the mattress creak as he turns around as well.

"Alright. As you want."

"Just go back to sleep," she says, looking at the wall. The back of her eyes stings, just a little. She bites her lips.

She keeps her grudge for a while this time.

—-

But: the next time she hears his breath grow quicker she rolls over and hugs him tight, as tight as she can. Maybe there isn't a lot she can do to help, maybe there isn't a lot that stubborn idiot will let her do to help—so this will have to be enough.

"It's okay," she whispers as he gasps and shudders in her arms, not entirely awake still. "I'm here. You're safe."

His fingers close around her wrist. "I'm here," she says again. "Shh. Sleep."

He does, after a while, and this time his breath is calm and steady. She keeps holding him tight as she begins to drift back into sleep as well. She might not be able to chase his nightmares away or to keep him from doing stupid things, but at least she can remind him that nothing bad is ever going to happen to him for as long as she's there.