America had gotten used to holding him after the nightmares. It was something that at first had bothered Lithuania. Not because of the intimacy of the act but because he was worried about disturbing the other nation's sleep. He would go on chanting, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," to his host until Alfred would draw him close and tell him not to worry about it, that there was nothing to be sorry about. Lithuania would continue to shiver in his arms but he would quiet down. He never talked about the content of his dreams.
Of course that was all after they had started sharing a bed.
At first Lithuania was against it, making excuses and saying he wouldn't want to bother America. Then, after much convincing, and under the pretence of it being for his own benefit ("what if I needed something during the night,") Alfred had made him accept his bed. Still there were hesitations, like Lithuania not wanting to change his shirt in front of America - as if he was ashamed of his body, - and not touching him at all. The touching was initiated only after the first nightmare hit, with Lithuania waking up and crying in the arms of a shushing America.
As said, Lithuania never told America what his nightmares were about, only that he was 'ok' and 'could go back to sleep now.' But Alfred wasn't completely clueless. He had heard Toris' moans in his sleep, the half mumbled words about Russia and how much it hurt, and how he promised – swore in the Russian tongue - not to do it again! It broke Alfred's heart to hear so much and not be able to comfort him. Perhaps some day….
Then came the night when America had his first nightmare. He saw Arthur again, standing in the rain, soaked and crying. He had ordered his soldiers not to shoot. But in the dream no one obeyed, and the next thing he heard were the thunderous roars of muskets all around him before Arthur's body shook and fell to the ground. He cried and reached for him. But he was already lying face first in the mud. He pulled him into his lap and yelled his name over and over, looking at the sightless green eyes and sobbing until his throat was hoarse. Then the thunder crashed again and he woke up.
There was a rainstorm outside, and the wind was shaking their bedroom windows. Another set of green eyes hovered in the darkness over him, their glistening depths full of worry and compassion. Without a word he reached up and pulled the brunette into his arms, pressing his face into his shoulder and breathing in his scent. Lithuania held him tightly and threaded his fingers through his hair.
That night they made love for the first time, under the flashes of lightning and the howl of the wind. The thunder drowned their voices so that when he cried, 'Arthur,' and Lithuania cried 'Ivan,' both of them could pretend they didn't hear it.