Swirling Colors

Pastels At Night - Part 5

For the first time in months and months, Hermes felt somewhat strong.

Or well, strong isn't the best word for it. He didn't feel strong , he just didn't feel weak.

For the first time in months, he didn’t feel weak.

He felt like he could summon a piece of Him back.

He knew he could. Was absolutely certain of it.

He could at any moment drag a piece of Him back.

He knew he could.

But he didn't.

He was tempted to do it immediately, recklessly.

But he didn't.

Because Apollo was asleep, and he didn't want to wake him.

Mortals need sleep, and Hermes knew he had been keeping him up.

Apollo denied it, but Hermes saw through his lie easily. Apollo had always been a terrible liar.

With Hermes’s persistent insomnia and nightmares, Apollo hadn't been getting much rest.

He wanted Apollo to be awake when he did it, needed him to be.

In case it's a trap.

In case he’s judging wrong.

In case it takes too much energy and he nearly fades.

In case something goes wrong.

But everything inside him was screaming to summon Himself back.

He wanted to.

He needed to.

But Apollo needed sleep.

Hermes waited.

Hermes waited for maybe 5 minutes before his resolve cracked.

He couldn't wait.

So Hermes let his eyes slip shut, and reached.

He could feel where He was. Could feel the bits and scraps of him stolen and ripped away.

He forced thoughts of how he got separated away, ignoring the ghost of the thing he could feel inside him.

It was just a memory.

Dragging a piece of Him back was… more difficult than he imagined.

Like reaching through a solid, or comprehending a full conversation when he’s consumed enough caffeine to kill several mortals.

He felt the piece of himself slot into place.

It felt right.

It felt normal.

He felt.. Okay.

He was vaguely aware of tear collecting in his eyes, he was too focused on the feeling of the hole being gone.

Of feeling somewhat whole.

Energy inside Him was swirling. Changing.

Flowing.

He melded together. Seamless. Correct.

He felt okay.

He felt okay.

A giddy, bubbly happiness filled his chest.

He felt okay.

He did it.

He had been afraid he would never be able to summon back the pieces of Him.

That they would forever hold bits of him hostage.

But he did it.

He can piece himself together.

A million emotions were running through him, but all were overshadowed by brilliant and blinding happiness.

He can do it.

It took a few minutes before the exhaustion set in. To feel almost dizzyingly tired.

He was glad he was sitting, he certainly would have fallen over if he hadn't.

He leaned into his hands, resting his head.

He wondered if Apollo would mind if he went to sleep with him.

He knew he wouldn't, they shared a bed for the last few weeks. Sleeping alone terrified him just as much if not more than being alone did.

He felt so tired.

With a minute’s hesitation, Hermes decided that no. Apollo wouldn't care, and that he should probably lay down.

So Hermes clambered into the bed next to Apollo, trying to not wake him.

As soon as Hermes settled next to him, Apollo blinked his eyes open, but closed then when he recognized him. “Something happen?” Apollo’s voice was slurred with sleep, but concerned nonetheless.

“Nothing, really. Go back to sleep. Just tired.”

“..you’re never ‘just tired’ Herms..”

“I’ll tell you when you wake up properly,” Hermes said, hoping Apollo would drop it for now, but when he looked up again, Apollo was already asleep again.

Hermes closed his eyes, and let himself drift off.

A bit more whole, and a bit more okay.