Guy's door clicked open, and he held in a sigh as he heard the young master's familiar tread crossing the floor. Really, wasn't thirteen a little old to be seeking out comfort for nightmares?

He had once, out of exasperation, asked Luke why he never went to his mother with his nightmares. He had expected some kind of flippant response, like that it wasn't her problem, or what good was Guy if he wasn't there to tend to the young master's whims every moment of every day, but what Luke's quiet, heartfelt words had stopped him cold. "Mommy's sick. She needs all the lotsa sleep she can get. And… she'd worry more, if she knew I was having nightmares." He'd held the frightened boy in his arms without protest after that, ignoring the guilt starting to twine around him. He had nothing to feel guilty about, he had told himself.

He waited for Luke to climb into his bed and cuddle against him. This one must have been a bad one, because Guy could feel Luke still trembling slightly as Guy wrapped his arms comfortingly around him. Luke clung to him even harder, as if reassuring himself that Guy was there, real.

"Which was it this time? The darkness one?" he asked.

They'd fallen, far too easily for Guy's liking, into this ritual after the first few awkward times. Luke would come, uninvited, and curl up next to him. He'd guess which nightmare it had been until he got it right or Luke gathered enough confidence to tell him. He'd make a feeble attempt at sending Luke away, taking satisfaction in the way Luke clung to him like he was the only safe thing in the world when he was anything but, then let him stay until morning.

Luke shook his head, then buried his face in Guy's shoulder. Guy waited until the trembling subsided before making his next guess. He kept a mental catalogue of all the dreams that had terrified his young charge in the past. He told himself that it was so he could fully enjoy the boy's suffering, not for any other reason.

"The pain and screaming one?" That one had had almost as much effect on Luke as whatever he had dreamt tonight. Luke's descriptions had been far too close to Guy's own memories for comfort, and he had wondered where the boy could have heard such cries or been subject to such intrusive pain that he still dreamt of it. The kidnapping, likely. Guy wondered if these nightmares were Luke's suppressed memories trying to make themselves known.

Luke pulled a little bit away from him, just enough to make sure Guy could hear clearly before shaking his head and saying, "No. Worse."

Guy couldn't think of any nightmares that had affected Luke more than the one he had just named. But Luke looked like he was ready to talk now, so Guy stayed quiet and listened.

"I was in my room, my bed. There was a monster, a demon, outside my door. The door was open, a little. Just enough that I could see its gleaming fang every time it passed through the moonlight leaking out my door." Luke paused, with a look like he was trying to steel himself to continue. Guy wondered what was so terrifying about this nightmare, it seemed like pretty standard child's fare to him so far.

"It came in. I- It-" Luke fumbled with his words, seemingly still unable to find the proper words to articulate what he wanted to say next. "Its eyes," he finally whispered quietly, before lapsing into a short silence. Then the floodgates broke loose and Luke fell into babbling.

"The demon, it wore your face, but its eyes! It hated me, entirely and absolutely, with everything in itself, wanted me dead-"

Guy cut him off by pulling him back into a tight embrace, unable to listen to any more. Luke clung to him even tighter, and started shaking again, sobbing. Guy was grateful for the darkness, so that Luke couldn't see the way he had blanched as soon as he had realized what exactly Luke was describing.

He had been awake. Luke had been awake, earlier that night, when Guy had tried once more to actually go through with his revenge. Had seen Guy watching him, trying to convince himself to take those few more steps, plunge the gleaming knife into his hated enemy. Had convinced himself that it couldn't be Guy, his Guy, that it must've been another nightmare.

Guy couldn't take it anymore. Why? Why was he the one Luke had to come to for comfort? He had tried, time and time again, to kill the boy, but still was the first and only one Luke came to for reassurance.

He can't. He can't do this anymore. He can't be these two people, both loving and hating this terrified little boy in his arms. He realizes that he has to do the deed, right now, or else he will forever lose any chance he had of following through on taking his revenge.

He just holds Luke tightly, whispering reassuring noises to him that, for the first time, he sincerely means.