He stood barefoot on the porch, holding her like a child in his arms; her legs around his chest, his arms around her back and supporting her thighs. He pressed his cheek into her shoulder, feeling again how tiny she was compared to him. The rain dribbled down, but they were sheltered from it by the rickety wooden roof that extended from the side of the apartment building. He rubbed her back in slow circles with one hand. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her wide eyes closed, the lashes longer and darker than when open. She looked peaceful, which was unusual for that time. "Sleeping, are you?" he murmured into her sleeve, and she mumbled something, her fingers tightening around his shoulders, closing over his shirt and bunching up the fabric in a reflexive gesture. He doubted she even knew it was him carrying her; he'd taken her out of bed on a whim when her whimpers became too much for him to bear. The nightmares he'd imagined her having been no doubt much worse than the actuality. He held her tighter, but not tight enough to constrain and wake her up. He didn't want that; not now that she'd quieted. The rain was no doubt helping.

Her lips, full and too cute, moved in unintelligible words, whispering the syllables against the crisp blue fabric covering his shoulder. He moved so that he could lean against the doorframe and slumped slightly, sitting her on his thighs and running his fingers through her hair. "Shh. It's OK." he breathed, and slid all the way down