They came to him in a dream as he was teetering on the edge of life and death.
He remembered choking, gasping for breath as his own blood bubbled past his lips as he coughed it up and back onto himself. There was a knife in his chest, his wallet nowhere to be seen. He hurt, knees bruised and palms scraped as his lungs burned with a fire he'd never felt before. A bruise blossoming along his jaw and the back of his head felt... wet. Darkness at the edge of his vision encroaching quickly. His life before this had been mundane, working a job he hated and focusing on his drumming hobby in his free time. Cutting through an alley to get home faster had cost him his life, but he was so tired, eager to get home after his boss kept him overtime promising to pay, when he knows the man just likes to see him suffer and not pay him his dues. He didn't let that stop him from fighting tooth and nail against his robber though, hopes they have to go to the hospital for the broken jaw and nose, and the teeth marks in his arm. Maybe he would've lived another day, but there's no point in dwelling on it now. He's dead, or close to it anyway.
They came to him. Asked him to be born anew as he floated in a vast expanse of stars, weightless as Their voice echoed around him, an amalgamation of every voice he had ever heard. "Will you be my vessel through which my message will be spread? I can give you everything you've ever wanted, if you accept me into your mind, your body, and your soul."
"You want me to be your vessel? To spread your message? Who are you? What about my cat Elvira? I can't leave her, she's my beloved pet." He raises an eyebrow, looking around him at the beauty of the stars as a small sense of wonder flows through him.
"I am Sleep, though that is not my true name. It cannot be spoken by any era of your race, ancient as it is. I suppose you can keep your so-called pet, though I do not understand its purpose."
"Sleep? Like, literal sleep?" Theres a pause, "Why do you want me?"
"In truth, I want you to be a companion of my first Vessel. Your musical abilities and loving soul wrapped in steel drew me in, and you would make an almost perfect fit as a vessel of mine. Alas, I did not need more than one Vessel, so I chose the most perfect one, my First vessel. But, he has experienced a great deal of pain in his life. In exchange for being my Vessel, my First, he has asked to be loved. With your help, I will give him the love of the world through his music in which he worships me and brings new followers. I will gain more worshippers from this, ultimately, with more than one of you. Admittedly, I have endeavored to grant his wish on a more personal level."
"What, so I'm going to help your first vessel with his music career and in return gain, what, exactly? What do I get out of this?"
"What is your wish?"
Thinking on it, the answer comes to him easily with a tilt of his head. "I wish to be acknowledged for my talents, I suppose."
"I can grant you that in more ways than one. Through your worship, yourself and my vessel will gain fame and prosperity. I foresee many worshippers will love you for your talents. My vessel will know your skill, adept in music as he is. His nature, his experiences, will allow him to acknowledge your talents and the effort you put into every part of your life."
"Why do you want to help this first vessel of yours so much anyway? You seem confident that he will acknowledge me. Not many in my life ever have."
"I cannot understand pain. I do not feel it, cannot even imagine it. I am hoping as his companion, you, and eventually some others, will love him in whatever capacity you all can. He has never once been loved in his short life, broken down by those who were supposed to love him, and in his despair ended his life, bringing him to me. You're a caring soul who can help him take care of himself, and he needs that most of all. There is no question of the lengths he will go to be loved."
"Show me him." He decides, warming up to the idea quickly.
He was alone in his apartment with just his cat for company. His last relationship ended amicably, but there was always something missing from every one he'd ever had. Maybe this way he won't be so alone.
"Very well."
The expanse around him shrinks down to a small galaxy in front of him, and in that swirling void of stars, a moving image forms. A masked man sits on the floor, leaned against a wall. No part of his face is visible but there is a mess of dark hair spilling out over the sides of the mask. Something hypnotizing about him, pulling him under with every passing moment. There is a pen and journal in his hands, and as the man watches Vessel, he can hear a beautiful, sad tune being hummed. Then, he begins to sing quietly, the lyrics on the paper before him forming a haunting melody.
"The daylight recedes in unison, this room buries the hours like death in motion, nobody else can pull me out, the fields of elation, quiet and loamy~"
His voice is gorgeous, bouncing off the walls with its strength and control. There is despair clawing it's way out from his throat, overcast by the bitter hope, golden tears dripping from the bottom of the mask. The first vessel lifts it enough for his lips to show and a shaky exhale falls from the onlookers lips as pale skin and bitten lips are revealed to him.
Angel bite piercings glint in the fading sunlight as the mask is put back in place. There's an aching in his soul, as though some part of him calls out to the sad man sitting all alone in a bare room, singing with the most beautiful voice he has ever heard.
Unable to look away, even as the image fades, the man speaks his answer before the God has any chance to say anything. There's something drawing him in. Something about that man. He has never felt anything like it, and wants to know him. He has to. Something in him demands it. Craves it. Aches for him. He would consider it scary if it didn't feel so right.
"I accept. I will become your second vessel. What do I have to do?"
The universe around him changes. Within a blink, he is laying on a beach. Sand surrounds him and sticks to his messy hair as he sits up quickly. The waves nearby are loud, crashing onto shore gently and receding. The sky above him is cloudy, dark masses swirling above and across the grey expanse, just barely visible in the night. Above him, a large moon hangs, its glowing rays never touching the ground he sits upon, like a barrier stops it.
He sits in a circle of candles, their yellow flame the only illumination around.
"An offering of your blood will suffice, and in return I will grant you some of my power as I did my first."
"A blood offering? That's it?" Raising an eyebrow, he can't help but think this all seems a bit underwhelming.
He's accepting a God into his mind, body, and soul, and all they require is a little blood?
"Much of my essence was given to the First, as was required. We are not being connected in quite the same way, so the requirements are different. Blood will suffice."
"Fine, what do I do?"
An ornate plate materializes next to him, and on it, a sharp knife with a simple wooden hilt.
"Do not be alarmed, and look away before too long passes."
The moon splinters at the bottom, six black eyes blinking open at once along its surface to stare down at him. From the gaping hole still slowly splintering apart, dark tendrils emerge, thick masses that taper down to a point, and they head right towards him. He only watches for a moment, looking away, down at the sand, like Sleep ordered. He wonders if his mind would have survived looking any longer.
"Offer every bit of blood you have to me. I will replace it with my essence."
"All of it? Won't that kill me?"
"You are already dead. You need to become something more than human. Do not fret, my first did the same thing."
"Did he also need to cut into his own arm and let himself bleed out?"
"No, he did not offer up his blood in the same way. If I had asked him to, he could have with ease. My first is quite used to making himself bleed."
Horror fills him at the blatant implications of what that means. He could tell the first vessel was depressed, had killed himself, but to be so in pain that he brought even more of it to himself on purpose? Steeling his resolve, he picks up the knife. This first vessel was likely going to continue following a dark path, and he wants to help steer him from it. His soul demands it.
He's shaking as he brings the knife to his wrist. This is a small price to pay for the power of a God, he tries to reason with himself. He'll be granted fame and finally be acknowledged for his talents and efforts. He'll be gaining someone who will see him for who he is, accept him. Sleep promised that.
"Will I remember any of this?" He asks, wincing as the first drag of the blade up his vein stings and burns with fire.
He continues as Sleep answers, blood spilling over his arm up to his elbow before he moves on to the next arm. The tendrils snake their way around his bleeding arm, and a strange feeling emits from the limb, a tingling like the limb has fallen asleep but the pain remains.
"You will remember only that I have asked you to help bring worshippers my message by helping my first Vessel. You will tell him the same, and your wish when you accepted. You will not remember anything else. I do not understand humans, but from what I've witnessed through their dreams and nightmares, I fear that if I tell him your purpose is to love him, he will never trust you nor accept it."
"Hm, that makes sense. He might have some issues then, but I'm perfectly willing to help him with them, if he'll let me. He's- I've never seen someone radiate such bone-deep sadness before. I want to help him."
Other arm done, he can feel himself growing dizzy. Its much like when he bled to his death before being brought to this dream by the god of Sleep. It unsettles him, to be so close to that feeling again, knowing his bloodstream was emptying on purpose this time somehow making it... worse.
"That is all I can ask for. I need him alive, as connected as we are, but I want him happy. I do not understand your human emotions well, but if his soul is singing in joy, then his chances of living rise exponentially. He- Is my First Vessel, and very dear to me."
Humming, the man sinks to his knees before the offering plate, weak knees giving out on him. Through blurring vision, an apple appears on the plate as the tendrils recede. One remains wrapped around his torso to steady him as he sways. "Eat the apple of Eden, taste the divine, and accept me into your soul. When you awaken, you will be at the edge of my domain in your human lands. My first knows of your arrival."
A nod is all he can manage as he reaches forth, picking up the apple and bringing it to his lips. The texture is as any apple should be, but the juice tastes of iron, and when he pulls it away from his mouth, blood spills over onto his hand, his own blood. He continues eating. The taste is wonderful, and no food he can remember tastes anything like it. He can't imagine anything ever will.
This is the taste of the divine, and he wishes nothing more than to bask in the flavor forever, but alas the apple is soon gone, all except for the core which has a strange texture he finds he doesn't care for. It pulses gently as he sets it down and he wonders what exactly it is.
Time is... strange here, even stranger still as blood lingers on his tongue. It flows slowly, like wading through knee-high mud and yet some moments, when his mind is particularly foggy, its like a river, fast, harsh, and unrelenting in its pace.
He finds he cannot remember his name. Cannot remember the faces of his parents. His- mothers? Did he have two mothers? He did, he knows he did. What did they look like? The image of them smiling at him slips from his grasp as he tries desperately to hold on. No, he can't remember. Can't recall any of his childhood friends, or his drumming teacher, he can't remember anything except his cat, and the pain of every failed relationship, be it platonic or romantic. The pain of no one ever acknowledging how much time and effort, blood and tears, went into perfecting his drumming, of- of how deeply he tried, with his entire being,, heart and soul, at everything he's ever done in his life.
Vision darkening, he falls back, the tendrils letting him go with no amount of gentleness. Tears spill from his eyes, but he can't tell if they're from sadness or joy, the mix of emotions swirling inside him like that galaxy he floated in before.
"Rest now, II. When you wake, you must find I and my manor."
Slipping away into sleep, his name, his title, his position, sticks out.
Two. II.
::
When II awakens, who he was before ceased to be. He couldn't remember his name. The faces of his mothers. Of his boss who used to torment him day in and day out. Couldn't remember the face of the man who killed him for his wallet and the $20 bill inside. He remembered the pain, the agony, the fear. II remembered accepting Sleep, what they offered to him. Fame, recognition for just how much of himself he puts into everything he does.
A meow reaches him, a weight on his chest becoming apparent as his mind fully wakes up. Blinking his blue eyes open, II comes face to face with his fluffy black cat Elvira. She sits on his chest, her own face up close to his. Meowing again, she rubs her head against his chin and he holds her close as he sits up. On one side of him is a vast forest, and on the other a small, beat up old car sits, behind it a road leading off into a clearer space. The sun is low in the sky, the sunset casting brilliant colors of red, orange, and pink over the canopies above him.
A mask sits in his lap, a simple black cloth material with a strange symbol, Sleep's he realizes, printed in white over the face. Slipping it on with some difficulty while still holding Elvira, something settles in his chest. The mask feels right, like he was meant to wear it.
There is a pull in the direction of the forest, leading him off into the distance. So, II begins walking after a small glance back at the desolate car. The trees are easy enough to navigate through, but roots catch his feet every few minutes or so. At some point it was simply safer to let Elvira walk beside him rather than hold her in case he falls.
Silence surrounds him as he walks, except for the quiet sound of crunching underbrush below foot. He walks for what feels like hours, mind and body both lagging from the strain of accepting his new god, just barely managing not to fall. The light from the sun fades completely at some point, but II continues on into the darkness, following that tether in his chest. He stumbles more often, sticking closer to trees to try and balance himself. A stray root catches his foot and he goes tumbling over with a cry. Elvira meows from somewhere beside him and II closes his eyes and tries to brace for impact with his arms.
There is a cold hand on his arm, keeping him steady and helping him to his feet. Despite the unexpected touch, II's body does not jerk away in fear, nor does his mind devolve into terror. It should have, given the circumstances, but his body and mind seem to be in agreement with his very soul that sings at the touch.
The hand helps him right himself, grip strong but so gentle that II automatically leans into it just slightly. "I can see in the dark, do not fret. Come, I will lead you back to the manor."
The voice belonging to the hand is soft and soothing, calming whatever nerves had been building up in the silence. "I'm Sleep's first, my name is Vessel. Do you have a name yet?"
There is a quiet uncertainty, a hesitant fear in the other man's voice and II finds he wants to comfort him. Vessel does not need to be wary of him, and II is desperate for the man to know that.
"I've decided on II, like the number in roman numerals. This is my cat Elvira. Sleep said you would know of my arrival but I thought I was supposed to find the manor myself." II gestures lightly at himself, then around him for emphasis.
"I couldn't let you traverse this forest alone in the dark. I did, when I arrived, and it isn't pleasant alone. I walked in circles for hours, fell over every root there was, I think, before I finally found my way, though the pull in my chest tried to guide me. The walk here was much shorter this time." Vessel is quiet still, like he's afraid of being too loud, of disturbing the air around him with his voice.
His steps are quiet too, silent even, II can't even hear him or his breathing. The only indicator that the man is there at all is the gentle, guiding touch on his bicep. II should be afraid, but he isn't. He cannot even see the man, doesn't even know what he looks like. Was he given a mask like II's?
"I hope my cat doesn't bother- Oh shit, is she still following us? I can't see her." II panics, jerking his head around and squinting very hard at the ground like he'll be able to see in the dark suddenly.
"Calm down, its alright. I'm holding her in my other arm right now. A sweet thing isn't she? Not tried to bite or scratch me once."
Vessel's soothing tone, when he's actually trying to soothe, works wonders alongside his words. II laughs, calmer now, the loud sound startling Vessel into jerking back but keeping his hand steady, "Lucky you. Her name is Elvira. She bit me when I first rescued her. People don't treat black cats well, you know? Especially around Halloween. She was scared, some kids were being mean to her so I brought her home. Had to get a bunch of nasty shots to make sure I didn't get rabies. She's only a few years old."
II realizes he's rambling to this man he just met, about his cat no less. "Sorry, you probably don't care."
Vessel smiles, enjoying how the worry crinkled the edges of II's pretty blue eyes as the man realizes just how much he was talking Vessel's ears off, his hands dropping from where they were moving with his words. It's cute.
"No, it's alright. I've never had a pet. She's cute." Vessel laughs, more of a huff of air than an actual laugh, but it tilts the edges of II's lips up involuntarily anyway.
II wonders if he smiled while he did so, if his shoulders shook with the action.
"She can stay then? Sleep said it was alright." II smiles fully now, unsure.
It ends a little lopsided, endearingly enough, Vessel notices.
"Oh, yes, it's perfectly fine. We'll need to get her things though. The manor is empty. Most of the furniture was rotted or broken entirely so I threw it away. I'm sorry to say there is no bed for you or her to sleep on." Vessel sounds genuinely sorry, nervous even, like II was going to reprimand him for something that wasn't his fault.
"That's alright. This way I'll get to choose my own things! Do you have money to buy anything? I-"
II cringes, the memories of his death coming back full force, one of the only things he remembers from Before. Gasping out, II holds his chest with his free hand at the phantom pain of the knife searing into his flesh. Vessel startles, the arm on II's bicep going down to hold his hand gently out of instinct.
"Are you alright?" Vessel asks, desperate to know if II was okay despite just having met him.
Something within each of them was drawn to the other, small and unnoticeable as it was.
"I- I'm fine." II gasps out, shuddering violently, eyes going half-lidded as his vision is clouded with the sky he stared up at as he died, lost in the fear he felt,, the way the blood forced its way up his throat, burning like acid-
Vessel's hand in his brings him comfort, so he holds it tighter, hoping the other man doesn't mind. It helps ground him to the moment, walking through this silent forest with the first vessel of a God he knows next to nothing about. Vessel pauses, looking at their joined hands and up to where he knows his pulse should beat. Panic flares up like a flame in his chest, and Vessel rubs soothing circles into the palm of II's hand with his thumb to ignore it, push it down and away. II won't notice, lost as he is in his own mind, so it should be fine, Vessel assures himself desperately.
"I'm sorry." II starts as they continue walking as his shaking calms down, "I just remembered how I died... I was robbed, stabbed in the chest a couple times, I think."
Vessel strains to hear the other man as his voice goes down to a whisper, sad, with a hint of bitterness. "You never need to apologize to me for something like that. Its only natural to be haunted by your death."
II couldn't see it, but Vessel has averted his gaze, guilty eyes staring forlornly down at the fluffy cat he was holding. Nodding, assuming Vessel could see him, "How did-"
"I bled out." Vessel states, a certain unfeeling numbness to his voice that shocks II into silence.
The thumb still rubbing slow, gentle circles into his palm stills, righting itself in a proper hold, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." II hurries to apologize, realizing that he shouldn't have asked.
"It's alright. I've had time to process and come to terms with it." Vessel lies, the guilt building up with every word.
Lying to II seems wrong, and Vessel hates that the words fell from his lips so easily. Though, Vessel supposes it isn't really a lie. Vessel has come to terms with his death, come to terms with his failure at ending his own life. This admittance lightens the guilt a bit, and Vessel breathes a little easier knowing he didn't truly lie to II.
When they reach the manor, the outside vines reach for Vessel as he passes over the threshold of the porch, the small area covered with the plants. II cannot see them, but he does feel them brush over his arm, can just barely see the outline of the manor looming above him. He's so tired, so quickly trusting of Vessel, that he doesn't even bother asking if they've arrived.
Vessel turns on the lights in the entrance hall, ducking his head momentarily as it burns his eyes, disguising it as setting down Elvira, and when he looks up, they get their first good look at each other.
Vessel's mask is startling upon first glance, but his eyes, pupiless blood red surrounded by pitch black sclera are beautiful though the eye holes are differing shapes and altogether difficult to see into. He's wearing a pair of plain black jeans with a black hoodie, the band name on it unfamiliar to II. His hair, a dark mess sitting wildly upon his head, curls around the edges of the mask and the underside of his jaw.
Vessel, taking II in, finally lets go of his hand, which he realizes is black as night. Both he and II miss the touch, neither really understanding why. II's mask sits perfectly over his nose, a piercing just barely visible under the cloth in his right nostril. The blue of his eyes are even more striking in the light. He is also much shorter than Vessel, a good few inches of height between them. His clothes are simple a t-shirt that shows off the tattoos on his arms and plain dark wash jeans, his shoes are chunky black boots and he has a multitude of silver chained necklaces of differing lengths dangling from around his neck.
They both look around the entrance hall awkwardly, suddenly realizing that they both had been staring intently at each other. Vessel decides to show II around the manor, and let him pick a room, all while explaining that they only have about twenty-one hours to get everything set up for II's transformation. Vessel warns him it will hurt greatly, but neither could've truly prepared for it.
All of the rooms are pretty bare, but II doesn't mind, Vessel explaining again but in further detail how the house had been empty of anything but dust, debris, and barely standing furniture. He listens intently as the first goes on to explain that the only lucky break they had was that each room had in-tact bed frames, a blessing from Sleep most likely.
Vessel hates how much he's speaking, sure in his belief that every word is grating on II's ears. The other man must be so annoyed with him by now. Once Vessel is done getting him settled in, he'll have to be as silent as the dead so as not to bother the Second.
II ends up picking the room closest to the upstairs sitting room, after only a brief glance into it. Elvira sits perched on the small windowsill, staring at the two men standing in the doorway. She meows once before hopping down to rub against II's leg and running off somewhere else. II laughs, and Vessel hangs on to the sound, the silence of the house dispersing with another person's presence.
The altar room is a quick affair, barren as it is. II reaches out to touch the sigil on the wall, and Vessel, leaning silently against the doorframe, shudders violently as the sensation slams into his own chest like a freight train. It wasn't painful, just- greatly uncomfortable.
Turning back around to look at the first, II manages to miss Vessel pulling himself together quickly as he gestures at the mostly bare table, "We'll need to get more candles and things for offerings. Incense maybe?"
"Yes, I figured we could get some things at the store. We should probably leave soon if we want to make it before the furniture store closes. I want to give you time to settle in before your transformation starts tomorrow." Vessel explains, eager to get II's curious eyes away from the sigil his heartbeat resides in, and II nods easily enough, understanding.
"Sure. We can head out now. I'm already feeling better than before, though I do have a headache coming on, I think." II smiles, but it falls into more of a grimace towards the end of his words.
Vessel winces, understanding entirely. The migraine he suffered before and during his transformation was the worst he had ever experienced, he is sure. He can imagine very well what II must be feeling.
With Vessel leading through the darkness with utter surety in the destination and II no longer as weak limbed as before, the walk back to Vessel's car is far quicker, merely an hour instead of the two or three it took the first time. They held hands again, for II's benefit, of course. Vessel wouldn't want the other man to stumble and twist an ankle.
It's as they get to the furniture store a while later that Vessel's anxiety rises to the surface whereas it had once been simmering just under his skin, growing steadily in strength with every mile passed.
Parking the car about halfway through the parking lot, Vessel shuts the car off and lets II begin to get out. The other man pauses, realizing Vessel wasn't coming with him.
"Are you not coming?" II asks.
Shaking his head almost rabidly,
"I can't go into a store like this. I can't, I'm sorry." Vessel pleads, eyes wide, anxiety swirling in his gut, just the thought of getting out of the car nearly too much to handle.
"Is it your eyes? The mask?" II inquires, worried now as Vessel's shaking becomes clear to him, white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel not hiding the tremor in his whole body.
Nodding, Vessel agrees, though to which one II isn't sure, so he assumes it is both. "Stores- I get- I couldn't go in by myself. Before you arrived. Sleep asked me to do all of this before you got here, but I- Fuck, fuck." Vessel's voice breaks off into a whisper, guilt eating away at his mind for even admitting this much.
II must think him pathetic, useless. All of his past partners did, his parents, and they all made sure he knew quite well. But Vessel couldn't help the way social situations made him feel like the ground was about to crumble away beneath his feet, like the entire world's eyes were on him at every moment, like everyone was laughing at him just for existing. He's fucking worthless. He can't even go into a fucking store by himself, and clearly not even with another person who is dressed almost as unusual as himself.
II, who has remained silent up until this point, trying to figure out a way to comfort Vessel, to reassure him, is kept from saying anything just yet when Vessel speaks again, and his voice is so quiet, so desperate, II's heart clenches in his chest, "Please, just- just get whatever you want. I, I can help load it on the car when you're done, I promise. I'm sorry."
"But don't you need a mattress too?"
Vessel can't bring his eyes to meet II's own, focusing instead on his hands before him. "I don't need sleep, not like you do. Sleep said so."
Frowning, putting that aside for later thought, II counters, "You still need rest Vessel, whether you sleep or not. The bed doesn't have to be just for sleeping. It's not like we have anywhere to sit right now, you need a proper bed."
Vessel winces, recognizing II's point and agreeing silently but unwilling, unable to say anything, his mouth filling with cotton. "I'll be keeping my mask on, and if anyone asks or says anything, I can answer for us. We'll say we're off to a costume party or something."
"Okay." Vessel agrees quietly, slipping the keys and card into his pocket before slowly opening up the driver door and getting out.
II walks over to his side and grabs his hand, tilting his head and gesturing with it in silent question. Nodding, Vessel licks his dry lips, each step forward feeling like a death march. Vessel woukd prefer killing himself again, he thinks, instead of being around complete strangers out in public. Especially like this.
The fluorescent lights inside the store immediately burn his eyes and Vessel cringes back, ducking his head and staring resolutely at the floor. Leading them forward, II asks quietly if he's alright. Vessel murmurs his affirmative, eyes clenched shut as a headache begins to ache right behind them.
His hands have gone numb and Vessel is glad for II holding one of them, keeping some sort of feeling in the appendage. He wonders if the other man is going to say anything about the full-body tremble he can surely feel, wonders if he'll take his hand back, shake him off, or tell him to 'stop that fucking shaking or else.' It wouldn't be new to Vessel.
II let's go of his hand only once the entire time to try out a mattress, gesturing with the other as a saleswoman comes up to them asking if they need any help. When he asks what Vessel would prefer, Vessel spirals. II's letting him choose?
II, noticing the accelerated, short breaths Vessel is taking, pulls them over to one of the dimmer sections of the store, though its hardly any darker. "Breathe, Vessel, its alright. Do you want me to just get the one I picked for both of us? I'm sorry, I didn't think your anxiety was this bad. I'd never have asked you to come in if I'd known. I thought it was just from what we were wearing, but clearly its not. I'm sorry."
II, desperately trying to comfort Vessel, takes both hands now and rubs over his palms gently, trying to soothe, to help. Vessel forces himself to nod, a few too many times, but II doesn't mind. "I'll be right back so we can get out of here. How am I paying?"
Vessel begins shaking his head back and forth as II lets go of his hands. On instinct, Vessel grabs the hem of II's shirt but jerks back away just as quickly, holding his arms close to his stomach in a protective manner. "I'm sorry. I'll go with you, just don't leave."
II's heart shatters at the desperation in Vessel's voice, how small he looks even as he towers over II. The man can see that the first Vessel is trying his best to take up as little space as possible, hunched over into himself. Glancing around, II realizes some of the workers are staring though they look away quickly when II catches them. "I won't leave, I promise. Let's get this done quickly, alright? Then we can leave."
Vessel hands over the credit card Sleep gave him, and when II takes it, Vessel looks back down to the floor, hands held close, keeping a close eye on II's boots to follow him. When the second vessel doesn't move after a moment, Vessel looks up. The corners of II's eyes are crinkled with the smile hidden mostly by his cloth mask, a hand held out in offering. Hesitantly, Vessel reaches out and takes it, marveling at the gesture despite it becoming somewhat familiar at this point.
While II talks to the saleswoman again and gets everything handled, Vessel is lost in his head, focusing on righting his breathing, on the feel of II's hand in his own, on the faint presence of Sleep in the back of his mind. Slowly, the numbness in his hands that had spread up his arms fades, his trembling slowing before stopping completely.
As the workers go to bring out the mattresses to the front of the store, II looks back at Vessel in concern. The other man has been silent, but II is glad his trembling has stopped and he's seemed to calm down. "Are you okay now?" II keeps his voice low, gentle and calm,
Vessel nods, still not meeting II's eyes and he frowns, worried. There's no way II can expect Vessel to go grocery shopping with him. "I'm sorry I made a scene."
"Oh, Vessel, you didn't make a scene. Its alright, you can't help when you have a panic attack. Its not your fault." II reassures, regretfully looking away when the workers bring out the mattresses.
"There's bungee chords in the back. We can tie down the mattresses that way." Vessel offers, rubbing over his wrist scarring and newer cuts absent-mindedly, the urge to add more growing.
They get out the bungee chords and attach the mattresses to the top of the car, it weighs it down quite a bit but thankfully not enough they can't drive anywhere. Vessel feels some of his deeper cuts reopen, but doesn't let his alarm show. He's wearing his hoodie, it'll be okay.
"We need to go to the grocery store still. I'll drive since I don't think you're in a good state to do do. My headache isn't too bad." II states when they're finished.
Vessel apologizes quickly, voice weak as he hands over the keys without question. He feels like utter shit. This trip was to get things for II so he'd have all he needed when he undergoes the transformation into a true vessel tomorrow. Its turned into him just comforting useless Vessel.
"Vessel, you don't have to keep apologizing to me for things like this. Its not your fault, and really, none of this bothers me."
Vessel nods, closing his eyes against II's burning gaze, fearing the man can tell that he is only agreeing to drop the issue. They get in the car and sit in silence while II drives further into town looking for a store that sells both food and other things. He explains that they may as well get sheets and pillows and groceries all in one go, do they can get back home faster. Vessel marvels at the way II can already call the manor home. Vessel isn't sure he's ever really had a home. A house, a place to sleep, sure, but a home? Never.
Vessel expects II to have him go into the store with him again, but is surprised when he declines and II only smiles and asks him if there was anything he wanted. "Thats alright, I'll pick out some new things for us to try then. I'll be right back."
Only when Vessel is sure II is gone does he let himself cry. Silent sobs shake his shoulders, small breaths are all he can manage and Vessel really just wants to hurt, but he refrains. He can wait until they get back to the house and get II's things set up. He can, he has to. Vessel doesnt even want to think about what II would say if he saw Vessel ripping into his own skin with his nails.
'I had a fucking panic attack after going into a furniture store! A furniture store!' Vessel thinks hysterically to himself, loathing beating away at his brain as his sharp nails dig into his thighs through his jeans. His masked forehead rests against the dash while he waits for II to come out. He feels terrible, like a burden. Worthless, no, even less than that. II is going to leave, without a doubt. If he doesn't, then surely he will ask Sleep to rid themselves of his presence. Vessel isn't that important, his God could easily find other vessels.
Sniffling, Vessel lifts his mask to wipe away tears, and sits in silence until II returns, around an hour later. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait so long." II says as he opens the drivers side back door, stuffing a multitude of bags inside that he seemingly carried out by himself.
"You're fine, did you get what all you wanted and needed?" Vessel asks, and hopes II doesn't notice about the voice crack.
"Yeah! Bedsheets, a few blankets, a first aid kid, a few shirts for me and hopefully a couple that'll fit you, and some other essentials like underwear and shit. Oh, and snacks, to go with all the healthy food you just bought us." II smiles.
"The card's from Sleep actually. Didn't have any of my own money. Money is inconsequential to Gods, so they just made that card for us to use."
"Ah, well, I think we just singlehandedly fucked up the economy with illegal, undocumented money." II laughs, and Vessel smiles at the sound, though it falls when II winces and holds a hand to his temple.
"I'll drive back, II, you rest. I'm sorry you had to do all this. I should be able to do these things."
"Alright, that's probably for the best. Are you feeling better now?" II asks, and his pretty blue eyes are so hopeful Vessel finds himself nodding in affirmation despite not feeling much better at all.
The corners of II's eyes crinkle even further, causing his eyes to squint like he can't quite see. It really is endearing, and Vessel finds himself smiling back though he knows II can't see it. They switch places in the car, and II goes through his cd's before picking a Whitney Houston album. 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' starts playing over his radio, and Vessel's lip quirks up as II starts quietly humming along, tapping along with both his feet and hands to the drums, mimicking all the hand movements with ease, as though drumsticks were in his hands at that moment.
"Do you drum?" Vessel asks once the song is over.
Nodding as he answers, II replies. "Yes, I play the drums. Its one of the reasons Sleep chose me. Do you play anything?"
A blush rises to Vessel's cheeks, but he answers truthfully. "I sing, play guitar, bass, and piano."
"I can see why Sleep chose you then, if our method of worship is to be music. You must be talented." II smiles lightheartedly.
"Just a hardworker is all."
Vessel insists on carrying some of the groceries when they get back to the forest where the manor resides. II tries to protest, saying he has everything handled, but Vessel manages to get at least four bags while II takes the rest. II pouts, the jut of his lip barely visible under the mask, but it causes Vessel to laugh again, the smalle shaking of his shoulders and the near-silent huffs of laughter exactly what II was aiming for.
The walk back to the manor is shorter, a little bit more of the ice broken between them. II talks more than Vessel, but neither mind when silence strikes. When the manor comes into view, a single light left on in the entrance hall the only indicator II can see, he sighs in relief. Over time, his headache has grown increasingly worse. He could not set down the grocery bags fast enough.
"Just a bit more II, just gotta get your mattress back here."
"Okay." II's voice is quieter now, and Vessel is quickly growing worried.
He knows his God said they had twenty four hours, but they're already down to eighteen hours left and with every passing second, II looks a little bit worse. The trip back to the car for II's mattress is easy enough, its managing to get it back to the manor while II feels worse and worse that makes it difficult. By the time they manage it, II has to sit down by the footboard of his bed, back against the wall with his head tucked between his knees. Vessel turns the lights off in the house and begins making the other man's bed with whatever sheets he finds first. They're not washed but the package was completely unopened so it'll have to do.
Fluffing up a pillow or two, Vessel finishes with the bed and crouches before II. The second vessel doesn't lift his head, doesn't even move. "Hurts." He murmurs, and Vessel barely hears it.
"I know." Vessels voice is low, aimed to soothe, "Can I pick you up?"
II shakes his head, insisting he can get up to his bed himself, but when he gets to his feet, he sways, holding his palms to his eyes as the movement causes a sharp stab of pain that continues even after he manages to still. Vessel half leads, half carries II to bed and tucks him in under the covers. II is nearly asleep by then, head aching something fierce, but still, he reaches out blindly for Vessel, grabbing his hoodie hem as the man turns to leave. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning?"
Vessel nods before realizing II can't see him before verbally responding. II falls asleep with a small, barely visible smile and Vessel sighs as he shuts the door behind himself.
That done, Vessel goes to put groceries away and sort through whatever else II got. Going through the shirts and figuring out which is likely his, putting the first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom, groceries in the cleaned out fridge. Its nice that Sleep at least made sure there was running water and electricity. It's quick work, and Vessel finds the silence in the absence of II to feel... well, wrong. So he hums, so quiet it barely stirs the air around him, but it helps all the same. Making his way through the house in search of II's cat to feed her, Vessel eventually finds her in the large empty room on the ground floor. Though, its no longer empty.
To one side of the room sits a beautiful but old grand piano, a light wooden color with a matching bench. To the other side of the room is a drumkit complete with a pair of drumsticks.
"Thank you, my God."
'Enjoy your gift, my vessel.' His Gods voice whispers in his mind before they are gone from his head, though their presence lingers as it usually does.
Sitting down at the piano, Vessel lets a single finger press the G note key, but it was so discordant after it rang through the room, Vessel couldn't help but wince. Vessel looks around the room and finds a tuning kit pretty easily, thanking Sleep once more, and gets to work. Its hours of work, and the sun is rising by the time he's done. He sits to play for maybe an hour or so before a knock on the doorframe causes him to slam a few keys all at once.
When Vessel turns, II is leaning on the doorframe holding his head with one hand, a pained smile beneath the mask. He stands right away, making it over to the other man in record time, and begins leading him back upstairs. "I'll make you something to eat, you just lay down."
II doesn't protest about all the care Vessel is showing, visibly in pain. The hours leading down to the beginning of II's transformation are long and drawn out, feeling like a timer ticking down to a bomb setting off. Vessel had warned II that the process would hurt, but he didn't truly realize how much it would affect him leading up to it. Vessel remembered being in pain before his as well, but its worse seeing II going through the same thing and being unable to do anything about it.
Thankfully, he's in bed when the transformation begins, Elvira laying by his feet. Vessel is with him, holding his hand and rubbing soothing circles into his palm worriedly. II is grateful, so grateful. Vessel could have just left him be in wait for the process to begin, but he's been fretting silently, an aura of worry stemming off his body so potently II could almost see it. II would try to reassure him if he could manage to speak past the pain, past the fire roaring through his blood, pounding away at his brain.
II is aware of everything, every change being made to his body and soul. He can feel something crawling over his itching, burning eyes, feel the way his Gods essence slowly takes over his lifeblood, transforming it into something more. Every atom is screaming as his soul changes to the whims of his God. He has no idea how much time has passed, it feels like its stretched out infinitely and yet mere seconds at the same time. It's torture. If II thought accepting his new God was painful, this is light-years worse. Nothing he has felt, in this life or the next, will ever compare to the sheer agony this process is wreaking upon his mind, body, and soul.
The only constant aside from the pain, is Vessel's touch, the calm of his voice. Vessel is so gentle, so apologetic as he removes the mask from II's head. He hums near silently as he wipes at II's sweaty forehead after putting him back on his back so he doesn't choke on the sludge that drips from his lips, its taste foul.
The only passing of time II is aware of is the position of the sun as it passes by his room. Vessel never turns the light on, so II relies on the bright rays, thankful the too-thin curtains have been pulled shut. It must've been at least a week now, in constant agony. II wants it to end, he needs it to stop, please Sleep, make it stop.
"Sleep, I don't understand why even asleep, he looks so pained. Is something wrong with his transformation?" Vessel asks, brow furrowed beneath his mask.
II wants to ask Sleep the same. Something has to be wrong for the process to feel like this. The voice of his God is far too loud as it echoes in the room, bringing nothing but more pain as it mingles with II's migraine.
"Nothing is wrong, my vessel. This was how your body reacted as well. The second vessel rests, but he is not asleep. You handled your transformation beautifully while awake, so I did the same to the second."
Vessel breathes out a shaky sigh of disbelieving horror, unaware of how II, conscious as he is while his body is still, knows he would do the same.
"Will it take as long as mine?" Vessel asks finally, after minutes in silence, through trembling lips, and II watches, unable to move and too in pain to really process at the time, as Vessel lifts his mask to wipe golden tears.
Golden tears. Vessel has tears of liquid gold, striking against the pale skin of his jaw and the blush pink of his lips, staining the other man's hands and clothes as he wipes them off on his jeans.
This isn't right. Vessel could easily justify letting himself suffer, he was used to pain. It's been a constant his entire life. But this man before him didn't deserve this, sleep should be his sanctuary during this process. Why won't his God just let II sleep? There has to be something Vessel can do- wait. Vessel makes a decision and calms his mind as much as he is able, needing to concentrate. There's a thin thread of something niggling at the back of his mind that's been there ever since his transformation. Reaching out a hand and laying it on II's sweaty forehead, the creases from pain ease under his touch. If Vessel could just- yes, just like that. Connect with II's consciousness and force him to sleep, properly sleep, instead of whatever this is that Sleep has put him under. There's an ache in his brows that wasn't there before, but he ignores it after chalking it up to the beginnings of a headache.
II's dry eyes move, eyelids shuttering before falling shut. Pain spikes through his head and Vessel winces, but when he unscrews his eyes from being shut, II has calmed. His forehead no longer creases in pain, his breathing just that small bit calmer. Vessel is glad. So glad.
Vessel lets himself rest, curling up at II's side, careful not to touch, while the other finally, finally sleeps. His mask and II's sits between them, and Vessel lets himself sob into one hand while the other holds II's. Fuck, he finally feels worth something. Even as his brow aches and the room spins and nausea rocks in his gut, Vessel keeps himself silent, something he does well. His shoulders shake minutely, and he sobs, but no sound leaves his lips but the barest hint of harsh breathing. When he is calm, Vessel thinks he may go write a song. But right now, he is so tired, and all he wants is to sleep but he physically can't. His body aches, and a headache pounds behind his eyes, a chill sweeping through his limbs.
Within hours, II is awake again, and Vessel can feel it. In the back of his mind, its like a light switch has turned on and that fuzzy bit of something comes into focus and then there is pain. Such agony that Vessel shoots up and back, knocking over both himself and the piano bench he had been sitting on. In seconds, he is up the stairs and in II's room, at his side, knowing without a doubt that it is his presence Vessel is feeling. With no small amount of effort, Vessel forces him back to sleep and breathes a sigh of relief at the peace that settles in II's mind, even as the headache that had finally went away begins to creep up on him again.
"Sleep, what's happened? Why can I- Why can I feel II's presence and his emotions? Its strange, and feels wrong, like- like an invasion of his privacy."
"I have bonded you to the Second in mind and soul. I thought you would like to be able to navigate your human emotions better if you could feel each others. Do you not like my gift?"
"N-no, its not th-" Vessel blanches at the hurt he can hear in his Gods voice, trying to explain himself quickly to lessen it.
"Fine then. I was to explain how to give you some modicum of privacy, as you humans seem to strive for that in desperation, but you are not thankful for my gift. You will figure it out for yourself."
"No! Wait, I beg of you, please- I'm-"
Sleep's presence is gone before Vessel can finish, "... sorry. Fuck."
Running to the altar room, Vessel takes the ritual knife he keeps by the plate and draws it vertically over his wrist. Blood spills onto the plate almost immediately, and whether Sleep makes their presence known or not, Vessel needs them to understand.
"I am thankful for your gift. I- I just- II doesn't need to be privy to how fucked up I am. He doesn't deserve to and... I'm scared. Of what he will think of me. This is- This was a very sudden gift, and you've already given me more than I deserve."
Sleep lets their presence be known, voice no longer as hurt as Vessel's blood continues to drip down his arm and splash onto the plate. It is faint, but Vessel is relieved they have come back at all.
"I have told you, my dearest vessel, that you are deserving of everything. I will not take back my gift, and in time, the other vessels will be bonded with you and the second in the same way. That is all I will say on the matter, now leave me to rest. I- I have overextended my powers to give you these things. When the time is right, I will ask for an offering, one not of your blood, but perhaps of the music you have made."
Vessel crumbles to his knees, clutching his arm to his chest. Affirming his Gods wishes, Sleep leaves him. These- all of these things- II, the piano, this bond, these things are gifts from his God. His God thought well enough of him to give him things without asking for anything more than worship in return, and only when they need it. Vessel couldn't be more grateful, as apprehensive as he is about this bond he and II have been struck with. He supposes he'll just have to figure out how to limit his emotions from traveling over to II's side. It can't be that hard, can it?
II is awake for even shorter periods of time over his transformation as Vessel learns to use this new power with more and more ease. With every use, the ache in his brow grows worse, little by little. Vessel grows adept at closing the door of his mind that leads out into a hall where II's resides. Its strange, to picture a hallways with doors in his own head, so it takes work, but Vessel gets it eventually. With practice, it becomes easier to manage.
In his waking moments, Vessel was there. II felt every careful touch, gentle caress, heard every kind word and encouragement. He heard Vessel cry and sob, out of pain or despair, II isn't sure. He just knows it breaks his heart every time. When he wakes and there is less pain than usual, II is struck with an emotion that he can tell immediately isn't his.
II has never felt such strong self-loathing, even at his worst. There is also this other presence in the back of his mind, much like how Sleep's lurks. Within seconds, that negative emotion is gone and replaced with terrifying calm and Vessel appears at his side. Was- was that Vessel's emotions?
"Its okay, you don't need to be so confused. I'll explain when your transformation is over. Go back to sleep, II." Vessel's hand is cold against II's too-warm forehead and if he could, II would lean into the touch but his body still won't obey him.
Sleep is a welcome thing as the brief reprieve from the pain ends almost as quickly as it started.
Finally, two weeks into his transformation, II wakes for the final time, feeling better than he had in what felt like forever. Vessel is nowhere to be seen, but II can hear the piano, which has been a near constant thing in his moments of consciousness, stop. There is relief in II's chest, even as he sits up and takes in the new state of his body.
His hands have turned the same deep black as Vessel's, up to the middle of his forearm where little tendrils of ink reach up towards his elbows. Instead of his usual nails, longer, sharp nails like claws lay. When II glances at his window, there is no light streaming through, and yet he can see perfectly. His mask lays beside him, but II leaves it off. He needs a damn shower, desperately.
"You're awake, for good this time." Vessel's voice is as relieved as II feels, breathy and hopeful.
II looks up at his doorway where Vessel stands, still as a statue with his arms held close to his stomach, and II realizes he can feel the relief in his mind as well where Vessel's presence has grown stronger.
II smiles at Vessel, and for a moment, Vessel is struck by just how beautiful the other man is. For the first time, Vessel can see his eyes crinkle and the way a single dimple appears, and awe floods the bond for a moment before it quiets to something smaller, less all-encompassing.
"I'm sorry." Vessel starts, then begins to explain about the bond, nervous and apprehensive.
II listens, nodding along, a bit concerned at the calm over the bond when clearly Vessel is not calm at all. Sleep has bonded them, made it so their emotions are apparent to each other when they wish it, and Vessel sounds scared.
"Alright, I'm fine with this."
"Y-You are?"
"Yeah, I've always believed in communicating what I'm feeling anyways. This will just make that easier. I understand if you don't want to do the same, and I'm completely fine with that. I'll just be an open book for you, you won't need to doubt my intentions." II smiles again, and Vessel is struck with the heavy need to cry again.
So little time spent with this man and he's been nicer, more considerate of Vessel, than most anyone ever has in his entire life. It's jarring, and Vessel doesn't know how to act around him, so Vessel decides to do as he would if II weren't so kind, as the safest option.
He'll isolate himself, hide away. Hide his emotions, his pain, keep to his room.
Its better this way.
If only II thought the same. If only Vessel didn't silently ache with the want to be loved that he breaks beneath it so easily.