"Of course I'll look after you." Whatever Steven needs, he'll do it. And right now, Steven isn't discouraging him from squirming in closer, pressing his face in against him. This feels-- so much better already. He'd missed sleeping next to Steven properly.

"I don't take shit all the time, but-- you know. Sometimes you just gotta sleep, man." And not have nightmares or sit and stare at the ceiling, hoping your mind calms down enough to even let you drift off. He can do without -- not like when he was in the military, he got to do shit like this. But you know, dying is a little more stressful, nearly letting someone unleash a god that was gonna kill even kids, being separated from Steven... sometimes he needs the edge taken off the anxiety, the dark thoughts.

"No, I don't want to talk to a doctor. I'd rather-- work on it myself." Alone. He might need the help, but the idea of that-- getting out there, it sets him on edge. He knows what people would think. How they'd treat him.

"I won't go sharing it around either, not to just anyone. It's not any more fair to you." He doesn't want anyone giving Steven those looks either, treating him any-- different.

"It wasn't your fault." He tightens his arm around Steven, pulling him in a bit closer. The nuzzling, the closeness. It's not-- normal. He should probably discourage it, but all he can do is press in closer, welcome it.

"Well, I have been in your head forever, buddy. I know you inside and out..." There's a soft laugh as he nudges his forehead against Steven's.

"Look, just relax, alright? It'll happen. You're too-- you for it to not."