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"Are you crying?"
No darkness can deceive Gojo's eyes. But even blind and powerless he would recognize the desperate clutch of your fingers, clenched on his shirt so hard he feels your nails scratching at his skin. Tangled in sheets, you're nuzzling to his side like a little bird, curled, pressed into the tight space between his chest and stump.
"Hey, Y/N, are you awake?" Gently, he nudges your shoulder, looks for your eyes amidst the night but he doesn't find a satisfying answer. Groaning at stiffened muscles, he reaches over you, for the switch-key of the bed stand lamp. He almost fails and falls on top of you—his disability is fresh, he's still not used to different balance and the lack of arm by the right side.
"Y/N?" He tries again, voice soft and full of concern. With some squirming, he manages to roll on side without pushing you away; he scoops you closer, fingers soothingly tracing at your scalp and the back of your head. As always, his heart melts at the soft sensation of the size difference between you two; you're an adult but in comparison to his huge hands—hand you sometimes seem fragile like a child.
It does feel like cuddling a child at that moment, with your dry sobs cutting through grave silence, and trembling of your curled shoulders. And like with children, Gojo is patient with you, untying the knots of your nightmares one after one, until your breath eases and tension melts into oblivion. You're pressed so close to him he feels your eyes opening, your lashes tickling his neck when you blink the sandy numbness away.
"I'm here." He reassures you and kisses the top of your head. "I got you."
With a loud gasp you jerk in his embrace, both hands reaching for his face, frantically tracing scattered scars, tangling into soft locks falling far past his eyebrows. Shock fades into relief, relief into ecstatic happiness, tears pooling in your eyes, and soon falling all over your cheeks, all over his t-shirt and scarred chest underneath.
The sight breaks his heart into a thousand little pieces.
"You're—" Another sob cuts through your words, turning them into unintelligible wailing, soon muffled by his chest. He welcomes you with a low, sensuous hum, big, warm hand at the back of your neck, thumb drawing aimless lines and circles down your spine.
Gojo doesn't need your words. He knows, he always knew even without choked-out extracts of your nightmares you sometimes shared. You've been like this since you reunited; he can only imagine what you went through when he's been gone—and with each tear he feels falling on his chest, he just hates himself and his weakness more.
He swore to protect you, to protect everyone, and even if in the end he came out on top, he hasn't been with you for too long. Way too long.
"Yes, I am here. I'm real." Gojo promises and peppers your head with more kisses, his voice calm and warm in reverse to the state of his soul. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
Liar, liar, liar a hundred times—and the most honest he's ever been in his life. It will not repeat, Gojo is sure of that, and repeats his promise with each slow and gentle stroke against your back. The mistakes won't be repeated, brecks in the plans won't be overlooked. As you are safe in his embrace now, you will be wherever you go, with him by your side, physically or not.
Your sobs eventually fade, fatigue wins over anxiety and torturous remains of nightmares. Gojo listens to your breathing easing, doesn't cease with soft touch and reassuring praises until go limp against him, swallowed by peaceful, or at least blank, dreams now. Not until then he dares to roll on back, pulling you with him, and covering the both of you with a blanket. Whispering his name, you rub your nose against his collarbone, your hand blindly looking for his.
He squeezes it, reassuring. It's so small, so fragile against his palm… Oh, if his soul wasn't already shattered, it would crumble this very moment. How could he let go of that beloved hand? How could he make you think he was gone?
To your last breath, at any cost, he won't leave you alone like this ever again.