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It had been a long night.
Vanitas knew from the start that it would be. The moment Dante dropped that familiar button into his hand with an unfamiliar, and even higher, number scratched into its back, he knew who the culprit for this incident was and where he would have to go.
He knew he’d have to return to the place of his nightmares.
It’s why he hadn’t even tried to sleep before sneaking off to the catacombs. He knew what would await him in dreams and he hadn’t wanted to miss the opportunity to deal with all this while Noé was occupied with sleeping.
That thought hadn’t worked out like he planned.
However, part of him was glad that Noé had come with him. For some reason, it’d been easier to face that dreaded lab when his partner was there by his side. And while he could have handled it by himself, he was glad that Noé had stopped Moreau from taking his eye even though it had blown their cover.
Vanitas knew that it was only with Noé’s encouragement that they’d been able to save the curse bearer.
And even before, he helped deal with that pesky Roland without anyone dying.
It was as amazing as it was annoying.
The other part of him was irked that Noé was now fretting over him like he was some sort of damsel. It made him regret the few pieces of his past that he had to reveal or Moreau alluded to; it probably had not helped Noé’s attitude.
Because above all else, Noé simply wouldn’t let him sleep.
After retrieving their hidden clothes and changing out of their stolen chasseur uniforms, Noé insisted they stop for breakfast instead of letting Vanitas retreat to the hotel immediately.
Admittedly, he had been somewhat hungry after their exertions, but his churning stomach from all the reminders of his past had been less than encouraging. Vanitas managed to choke down a croissant from the bakery they stopped at just to avoid Noé’s puppy eyed gaze.
But now they’d finally returned to their room, the safest place Vanitas knew he could get in his circumstances, and Noé was still giving him those gentle, careful glances.
“Will you finally let me sleep?” Vanitas groused as they walked through the door and he dumped the chasseurs’ uniforms next to it. “Or are you going to insist on continuing your mother henning?”
To his disgruntlement, Noé hesitated like he was taking his question seriously. “Are you sure you don’t want to wash first? Or check your wounds? I know you take longer to heal than —”
Vanitas groaned as he shucked off his coat. “I treated both of our injuries when we got our clothes back. They’re fine.”
“But you hit your head! And were unconscious for a few minutes at least! I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to —”
Vanitas let his face plant onto his bed speak for itself.
Unfortunately, Noé didn’t get the message. “Vanitas! Head wounds can be serious! You say you’re a doctor, you should know that.”
Vanitas sighed and turned his head to the side to look over at his partner. The truth was that his head did still hurt, though that could just as easily be from the lack of sleep as it was from the head trauma. Vanitas wasn’t too worried as he had much worse injuries over the years, at Moreau’s hands no less, and he knew the signs for when it was actually serious. Besides, due to the madman’s experiments, he healed faster than normal anyway.
“It’ll be fine at this point.” He cut off Noé’s continued tirade. “I haven’t had any dizzy spells since we left the catacombs, and the bleeding stopped. Head wounds tend to bleed a lot and look worse than they actually are. I checked for any other bumps and there wasn’t anything else worth worrying about.”
Vanitas met Noé’s eyes with an annoyed glare. “Now can I go to sleep?”
Noé deflated a bit, running his hand through his hair. He looked tired himself even though he had a so-called “respectful nap” before they’d left. “Fine.” He pouted. “But it’ll be your fault if it somehow worsens.”
Vanitas rolled his eyes and then his body, dragging his blanket around him until he was cocooned in its depths. He didn’t care that he still had his shoes, belt, pouches, knives, and the Book still on him as long as he finally got to sleep.
Which made it all the more irritating when he couldn’t.
Vanitas laid in his bed, eyes closed, but despite the fatigue dragging at his body, he simply couldn’t fall asleep.
His brain whirled with the few clues they had been able to gather from the excursion. He couldn’t guess who in their right mind would actually support Moreau in his research, but it was someone who clearly held a lot of power. With M. Spider’s presence, he also had ties to Charlatan as well, though that hadn’t stopped him from unknowingly kidnapping a curse bearer. A chasseur might also be involved, given how Moreau easily returned to his old lab. So many questions, and though Vanitas could make a few conjectures, he had no answers for all of his efforts.
When he wasn’t thinking about the events of the night, his mind instead replayed all of the horrors of his youth. The blood, the screams, the pain, Mikhail —
Vanitas clutched his blanket tighter at the thought of his lost brother.
Memories came to mind that would undoubtedly become even more vivid in his nightmares.
Giving sleep up as a lost cause, Vanitas stayed where he was and instead listened as Noé puttered about the room.
Noé spent some time in the bathroom taking a shower, and then once he redressed, he opened the door for Amelia to inform her that they had come back safely. After that, he spent the rest of the day reading or attempting to play with Murr. Occasionally, Vanitas could sense Noé hovering over him, undoubtedly still fretting, but luckily, he didn’t seem to notice that Vanitas was still awake and left him alone.
Noé left when it came time for dinner, but he wasn’t gone for long. He just went to get food and returned to eat it in their room.
After everything that happened, it seemed Noé was reluctant to leave him alone for long.
It was only once evening set in and Noé finally went to bed that Vanitas sat up in his bed.
He was still tired, but lying with his eyes closed was better than nothing so his mood was improved from earlier. Vanitas rose and went through his own bedtime routine, taking a shower and changing into his nightclothes after checking on his injuries. Like he thought, they were already well on their way to healing.
Vanitas decided he would continue trying to sleep inside tonight — not feeling like climbing out onto the roof — but as he went to return to bed, he paused to observe Noé in his.
Noé hugged his pillow close to his chest as usual. He hadn’t yet started his nightly shuffling about, so he was still in the relative center of the bed. Unusually, there was a crease in his forehead and a frown on his lips that spoke of troubled dreams.
For a moment, Vanitas’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at Noé.
A feeling, an urge really, that he hadn’t felt in ages suddenly rose in chest. Or maybe he’d never actually felt like this. It was hard to be sure, considering what he wanted.
Vanitas had already been subjected to Noé’s habit of making a hug pillow out of whoever was within his grasp on several occasions already. The first time had been within mere days of meeting each other. Each time, Vanitas had managed to wiggle his way out, scolding the other upon waking him up with his struggles. He hadn’t liked being held so tightly against his will like that.
But right now…
Well, he already hadn’t had any success trying to fall asleep by himself.
With quiet steps, Vanitas approached Noé’s bedside. He hesitated for one moment more before he gently tugged Noé’s pillow from his arms and placed it once more underneath his head.
Noé’s brow furrowed even more and his hands immediately began patting the bed for something to hug. Vanitas took the opportunity to slip beneath the covers and into his arms.
Before, Noé always ended up grabbing him and jerking him in so Vanitas’s back met his chest. Vanitas didn’t like that position; it reminded him too much of how Mikhail would curl up behind him whenever one of them had a session with Moreau. So this time, Vanitas allowed himself to face Noé instead as those seeking hands found him and immediately pulled him into a tight embrace.
Vanitas found his head nestled in Noé’s chest as those strong arms wound around him. His heart pounded in his own chest from all of the contact, but it wasn’t cloying or suffocating as Roland’s hug had been earlier. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d experienced at least. He shifted slightly, getting into a better position until he fully settled in, Noé’s heartbeat thrumming in his ear underneath where he laid.
It was comforting, in a way. A reassurance that this was real and not simply a dream of some place better than the chilly catacombs.
This was actually…nice.
Noé must’ve agreed as he sighed, his face smoothing out as Vanitas glanced up, and he nuzzled Vanitas’s hair while he tangled their legs together.
They laid together for some time; Vanitas wasn’t sure for how long as he adjusted to this new situation.
But slowly and surely, to his surprise, Vanitas finally felt his brain shutting down, his thoughts coming to a sleepy halt, his eyes drifting shut.
Just once.
He’d let himself have this comfort just this once.
It was the one thing he’d let himself have as he finally went to sleep, the nightmares chased away by Noé’s reassuring presence.
Noé considered it a very good morning if he somehow managed to stay in his bed through the night. More often than not, he awoke on the floor, but given how that was more normal for him, it didn’t necessarily indicate a bad morning. Still, waking in bed was truly a treat.
So as Noé slowly woke and became aware of the soft mattress under him, he knew it would be a good day despite the trials of the day before.
However, he quickly noticed that something was off.
His pillow was beneath his head, and in his arms was…
“Vanitas?” Noé cracked his eyes open and looked down.
Vanitas was indeed within his arms, face buried in his chest so he still couldn’t see Vanitas’s sleeping face. His slow heartbeat and breaths indicated his partner was still asleep while Noé was awake first, something that had never happened in all of their acquaintance.
Noé couldn’t help but stare.
This was entirely unprecedented. Usually, whenever Noé accidentally dragged Vanitas to him in his sleep, the other made his displeasure clear to anyone in hearing range, hissing and spitting like Murr did when he was in a mood. Already, Noé had sat through countless lectures of propriety and personal space that he’d barely listened to as he was generally still half asleep when Vanitas gave them. He couldn’t understand why Vanitas was still here, much less why he would allow it to continue.
Actually, considering that his pillow had been moved and Vanitas was still in his pajamas, could it be that —
“Stop thinking.” Vanitas sleepily grumbled. “Sleep.”
Noé blinked. “But you —”
“Shhhhh.” Vanitas’s ungloved hand pawed gently at his face in an uncoordinated attempt at shushing him. “Just this once. Sleep.”
“But —”
“Sleep.” Vanitas demanded one last time before he somehow snuggled even closer, his hands clutching at Noé’s nightshirt, and fell back asleep.
Noé stared down at him, still trying to make sense of all this. At the very least, he was grateful that Vanitas seemed to finally be getting some real sleep. He’d noticed the day before that despite his whining, Vanitas hadn’t actually slept at all.
But now…
Noé sighed at his contrary partner and ignored the light of the coming day and the tasks that surely needed done as he closed his eyes again.
If this was the only time Vanitas would allow it, he wanted to savor every moment of getting to sleep with someone once more. He curled around Vanitas, holding him tighter, as he reassured himself that Vanitas was here and alive.
And so, dawn broke as Noé and Vanitas slept soundly in each other’s arms.