#alright i did go looking for this because of shay but there is a viking ac game so

[shadelesssocket]

Gilded Disk Brooch

Viking, 9th Century

One of six brooches from the Pentney Hoard

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Thick, Thin, and Everything In Between

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle) Pairing: Cpt. Syverson/Reader Warnings: Anxiety, Nightmares, PTSD Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Alright, I tried my hand at it. Here’s some Capt. Syverson. I took the lead from @littlefreya​ by using the name “Logan”, since we never actually learn Syverson’s name. 

Henry Cavill Master List 

Again, another night, another disruption of sleep. Tossing and turning, yelling out, waking in a cold sweat with soaked sheets. Eleven years since Syverson had came home for good and the nightmares of his time in Iraq were still as fresh as they were the day they happened.

“No.” Thrashing against the bed sheets, pulling them off the bed kicking and shouting, the duvet creating the perfect trap. “No, please. I can't...”

“Hey, hey.” The soft voice cuts in and a gentle touch stops the world from spinning and the bed to seize shaking. “Hey, Bug. Come on, come back to me. It's okay.”

Gasping for air, you find yourself half sitting and half leaning against Syverson. Clutching your chest, you blink against the dim light of the lamp lit room and begin to tremble. He's right there, in the flesh, holding you and rocking you. Telling you it's all going to be okay.

So many nights you had woke to the same dream, only to close your eyes to find he was still on tour, having to call and tell you that he was going to be another three weeks or six. It was never going to end, until one day it did. He had came home, without so much as a word, in case it didn't happen. Showing up right before dinner, of course. Syverson would never miss a chance for a home cooked meal.

“Logan?” Your voice croaks at him.

“I'm right here, Bug.” He coaxes kissing the top of your head. “I'm here. I ain't leaving ya.” His voice is gruff and gentle at the same time. That accent melts you, after twenty three years, it still makes you weak.

Everything about him still makes you weak. The tough, grunt like, don't give a fuck soldier exterior was never there when you were together. Sy was gruff, by nature, but it never stopped him from being the soft teddy bear when you needed him the most.

“I...I don't know why they're back.” Your voice is barely there. Sy sighs and hugs you tightly to his side. He's been through it all before.

Night after night, when he'd first returned, you had stayed awake watching him sleep in case he needed you. It was exhausting, but he needed you and how could you let him down? You would lie awake, listening for any sign of distress. When he would wake up screaming, it had been your duty to hold and comfort him. He would lie in your arms, sobbing, while you rocked him back to sleep telling him everything was going to be okay.

Staying awake for Sy had meant avoiding your own demons.

After time, he had settled in, sleep came easier now and he woke less. When he found out that you'd been avoiding sleep in case he needed you, Syverson had nearly blown up with frustration. Not at you, but the situation he was imposing on you and your health.

“It's time someone took care of you, Logan.” You had soothed him, rubbing his back and offering him a chance to rest without having to fear for his life or the life of his men. No more sleeping with a gun under his pillow or a grenade on the nightstand.

“Are you okay if I leave for a moment?” His question breaks your thoughts.

You nod and sniffle. Sy smiles and gently brushes his hand across your cheek. “I'll be right back, Bug. Don't move.”

In the kitchen, you can hear the slight banging and thumping as he works his way through the kitchen. Give him a task and he is on it. Precision and detail are two things that never fall short with the former Captain. Down the hall the kettle whistles and you jump slightly at the high pitch, nerves still on edge from the nightmare. Syverson never asks for details and you are always happy not sharing.

Resisting the urge to replay the nightmare, you sigh and countdown from ten. Trying to think of as many other things as you can in that time span. A trick Syverson had taught you. It works, because you are soon off in thoughts of peaceful fields, hummingbirds, and Aika. Sy's old dog, oh god. You feel like welling up with tears again.

He'd lost his partner in crime several years back, after bringing her home with him. Logan had since moved on, finding Blaese not long after, in an ad from the local shelter. The big lug was probably following Sy around the kitchen right now, his brown and white fur ruffling as he moved. Lost in the thought of the dog who was no doubt on his way into jump on you had caused you to ignore Syverson's return.

“Bug.” His voice still holding that gentleness he reserved for you.

“Hmm.” You perk, looking at him wide eyed. As if he were returning with a miracle cure. It was Logan Syverson, after all. He probably raided the liquor cabinet, coming back to ask if you wanted the alcohol du jour on the rocks or straight.  

“Have a hot cup of tea and we can go back to bed.”  He hands you the mug, sliding back into bed with one of his own. He'd considered a shot of something stronger, but tea seemed to be the right tool for the job, tonight.

“Why are you always so calm?” You lean against his large frame, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Because I was the one there, when I dream it's not the same. I remember how it ended, but you're trapped in your own head. Being trapped in your own thoughts is scarier than any war or bad guy out there.”

“How do you make it go away?”

“You don't.” Sy shook his head, his beard hiding his frown. “But one day, you learn to control it. Every now and then it comes back, but you remember that it's over and life is moving on. One day, you wake up and realize you don't need to go back.”

“My biggest fear was always that you would come home and we wouldn't know how to be us.” You confess. It was a secret you'd been holding in since he had came back. “I was worried that you would come home and you wouldn't want to be bothered, moving on and finding another – more exciting life.”

“Bug, nothing in my life is more excitin' than you.” Sy sits his mug on the night stand, leaning over to leave a scratchy kiss on your cheek.

“Even though I have you awake in the middle of the night, making me tea, while I cry about something that happened over ten years ago?” You raised a brow, tipping the tea to your lips.

“I promised you for thick, thin, and everything in between. I wasn't bullshitting.” There were two things that he refused to go back on, one was the day he signed his life away with the army and the second was the day he married you.

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