Sometimes he had nightmares. He would cry out from his dreams, at times in tongues she couldn’t understand. He would thrash, he would tremble, and his voice would choke. Occasionally, he would weep, his sobs rocking his slim frame, erupting from deep within. She was always there to draw him near, his arms clinging to her body as though he might just slip away forever if he had nothing to which he could take hold. She stroked his hair and kissed his brow, never thinking him weak or less than what he was; only now, he was human, and no longer had to hide the sorrows that haunted him. He didn’t have to face them alone.