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Hypnos never cried.
Even as a newborn, in the earliest of his inception, he didn't so much as sniffle. No screams or wails or tears. Slept through the night. A truly serene infant.
Which made the sounds of crying all the more foreign to Thanatos.
Thanatos looked up from his very important work of building his block throne for Mort to listen to the wails reverberate off Tartarus' great walls. He kneeled, hovering just inches above the toy-built throne room, a bright orange block in hand. The crying stopped just long enough for a ragged shaking breath in before another long wail pierced through the land of the dead. Thanatos gently placed down his block and floated away from his work. He peered around the corner to find the source of the screaming.
Hypnos was walking. He never walked, preferring to rest on his back in the air. But he was standing, bare feet slapping on stone as he teetered down the halls. A bull shaped plush was limp in his hand dragging behind him, a fist wedged against his eye and he rubbed out tears.
A cascade of liquid gold trickled down the side of his head.
"Hypnos?" Thanatos asked, his voice shaking.
For just a moment, Hypnos stopped crying. He blinked large wet eyes open. At the sight of his brother and aware of his attention, Hypnos screamed louder. He fell back on his butt, clutching his bull to his chest.
"Th-thanatos!" he wailed in slaloming sobs, voice clogged. "Oww!"
Thanatos immediately went to his brother. He blinked and in a flash of green he settled down at Hypnos' side. Hands held up, unsure of where to touch.
There was a gash on the side of Hypnos' head where a fluffy white wing used to be. Golden blood gushed out of it, matting his hair.
"What. . . what happened?" Thanatos asked. He tilted his head, his eyes stuck on the wound and were heavy to move to Hypnos' blotchy face. "What happened, Hypnos?"
Only blubbering could be heard amongst the sobs. Every so often Thanatos could make out words like 'my wing' and 'it hurts' and 'ow.' Large wet tears streaked down his face and his mouth was left wide open to hold cries of pain. His tiny body shuddered with each inhale to scream once again.
Thanatos scooped his brother into his arms and flew off in search for help.
He zoomed back to the house, dodging between rubble and columns, bouncing over the little cracks in the foundation. Thanatos got to the door in record time, given he wasn't blinking, and he pounded on the metal.
"Open up!" he shouted, drowned out by Hypnos' wails. "Please let us in!"
But nobody came. No one heard them.
Thanatos propped Hypnos up at his side and pounded for all he was worth. Hypnos' cries of 'ow ow ow' on repeat that Thanatos tried and failed to ignore.
Thanatos never felt he needed to protect his twin. He never needed to stand up for him or take care of him. He never felt sorry for Hypnos, he was not a thing to be pitied. Hypnos was not particularly strong, but Thanatos had never ever thought he would get hurt.
With his twin crying and in pain and in need, all Thanatos wanted to do was protect his brother, take care of him, make the hurt go away. But he couldn't. He tried and nothing was happening.
Thanatos pounded on the door with both fists, throwing his whole weight into it.
"Help! Please!" he shouted at the unmoving metal.
Even between the echoing beats of his fists and Hypnos' unceasing cries, Thanatos could hear the shift of water behind him. He looked over his shoulder to the river Styx, it's ferry sailing like a shadow in the dark of its waters. Poised at the back was the ferryman, their brother, Charon.
At the sight of them, Charon's head perked up. His eyes flamed purple in the shadow and a great plume of smoke puffed out quick between his teeth. He drove his oar hard into the river, pushing his skiff quicker than Thanatos had ever seen him.
"Charon!" Thanatos pleaded.
Charon was off the boat long before it hit the dock. The bow clattered against the wood, the skiff skidding across the water, but Charon ignored it, taking great strides towards his brothers.
"Charon help!" Thanatos pleaded.
Hypnos sobbed.
Charon dropped to his knees and wrapped his hands around Hypnos' head, his touch hovering inches away to inspect the damage. Holding himself just as Thanatos had, the exact same reaction to their damaged brother. Charon gently touched an unblemished section and tilted Hypnos' head to get a better view. Hypnos didn't flinch and under a more responsible hand, his wails died down to stuffed sniffles.
"Hhhaaaaa. . . ?" Charon intoned softly.
Hypnos sniffed once and loud.
"I was. . .," he hiccuped. "I was playing in a dream. And I came back here and. . . And the dream closed behind me."
His sniffles picked up in speed.
"And my wing got stuck."
Tears began to creep into his voice again.
"And now the dream is gooo-hah-hah-hone."
Hypnos clutched his bull to his chest and wailed again, his eyes squeezing shut and doing nothing to hold back hot stinging tears. A pathetic little creature that made Thanatos' heart race with panic.
Charon snapped his fingers in Thanatos' face, getting his attention. He pointed back to his boat. With all the panic of Hypnos' lost wing, it took Thanatos a moment to realize his brother's silent command. He floated to the skiff and looked around to see an empty hull. It was on closer inspection that he saw the tiny chest nestled in the shadows. He grabbed the handle with both hands, tugged once, and was jolted back by the sheer weight of it. Giving the next heave some heft, he managed to lug the deceptively heavy chest off the skiff and to the dock.
Charon was gently patting down Hypnos' still intact wing, brushing away tears, and cooing soft grumbles in the back of his throat. When the chest was in grabbing distance, he took it from Thanatos' hands and hauled it closer as if it weighed no more than a feather. He pulled a key from his necklaces and opened the box, revealing a cluttered inside filled with treasures. Charon rummaged through it, pushing past gleaming baubles and gems, until he pulled out a small round bottle filled with a green paste. He was quick to uncork it, pour out some of the paste, and gently held it to Hypnos' wound. Hypnos flinched, but otherwise did nothing to stop his brother.
Charon smeared the green mush over the gaping hole where Hypnos' wing had been. When it was pressed into Hypnos' skin, it began to grow moss. Little white and purple flowers poked free of the dirt like instant spring. Hypnos let out a shaking, shuddering sigh, and his shoulders relaxed in relief.
Charon smoothed out the healing ichor, pushing down flowers with each pass only for them to arise again when his hand moved away. Hypnos looked up, his chin tucked low, his bull clutched to his chest.
When Charon was done with his ministrations, he ripped the end of his robe, tearing a jagged line of cloth from the hem. It gleamed gold in the light of Tartarus. He tied it around Hypnos' head once, twice, three times, carefully tying a double knot behind Hypnos' good wing. Securing the healing paste and staunching the flow of blood.
Hypnos had stopped crying, settling into soft hiccups instead. Thanatos watched the healing process with fascination. He watched his twin carefully for any more signs of pain and panic.
"Is he going to grow his wing back?" Thanatos asked softly.
Charon paused with his knot to look at his very little brother. He shook his head slowly and went back to work.
"Well we'll just get it back," Thanatos insisted. "We'll just go back to the dream and find Hypnos' wing and–"
"It's gone," Hypnos mumbled. "When a dream is gone it's gone forever. It's not coming back."
"Hheeoo," Charon shushed.
He finished the tie with a little bow and pat down Hypnos' wayward hair, smoothing the curls out.
Thanatos bristled at the injustice of it all. He curled his fists at his side, steeling his determination. He needed to do something!
"He can have one of mine!" he said with conviction.
Before Charon could speak, with a rebuttal or a comment about how ridiculous that was, Hypnos spoke up first.
"No!"
He dug his nails into his stuffed animal, a deep frown that looked wrong on his face, eyes red from crying and face blotchy.
"No I don't want your wings. I want my wing. I want my–. . . I want my wing back." A hiccup ravaged his body and he sniffed, tears threatening again. He buried his face into the horns of his bull. "I want my wing back."
Hypnos curled into himself, his knees drawn up to his chest, his feet leaving the ground. One foot folded over the other.
Charon sighed heavily, purple smoke curling into a cloud in the air. He rose to his feet with a groan.
"Hhhuuuuaa," he said and motioned his hand in a smooth wave.
Thanatos watched his brother leave before taking Hypnos by the hand. He dragged Hypnos behind him and climbed aboard the skiff. Charon tucked his chest back into it's hiding spot, waited until his brothers were settled, and pushed off from the shore.
They moved through the water in silence, save for Hypnos' occasional sniffles. The water moving past them, wraith like hands brushing over the wood of the boat. Hypnos' hand still lay in Thanatos' own. A quiet ride, just the three of them.
They moved from the cool of Tartarus into Asphodel, the gentle heat of lush fields draping over them like a blanket.
Hypnos hitched his comforter tighter around his shoulders.
"I want to sleep," he mumbled into the down.
Thanatos pulsed his hand once around Hypnos'. He looked to Charon.
Charon set his oar aside, letting the boat glide across the crystal surface of Phlegethon. He made his way across the boat, stepping over benches, and settled down at his brothers' side. His long legs stretched out under the benches. As Thanatos and Hypnos joined him on the floor, he rested his hat between two benches like a canopy, blocking them off from the world.
For all they knew, it truly did.
Thanatos and Hypnos curled up on the excess fabric of Charon's robes and Hypnos draped his comforter over himself and his twin.
Once settled, Hypnos reached over Thanatos and placed his hand on Charon's face. His hand was so small it barely covered up a fraction. Within a second, the purple light in Charon's eyes died out and his perpetual smoke faded. He settled heavy on his side, as unmoving as a corpse.
Next came Thanatos. Hypnos hovered his hand over Thanatos' face and paused.
"Thank you, Thanatos," he said weakly.
Thanatos wasn't sure to say to that. He didn't do anything, he didn't help Hypnos. He was only there when no one else was.
But he wasn't going to argue with Hypnos or deny what he felt. Thanatos made a mental note that he would be there for Hypnos whenever he needed it.
No matter what.
He nodded weakly and Hypnos touched his face.
Thanatos fell asleep in an instant.