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For the last few hours, the bond had been a quiet chatter in the back of his partners’ minds, a light mixture of emotions, mostly content, now with a dash of unease. Vessel was anxious and he wanted it to be gone from their link, he didn’t want it to stain the soft peace that momentarily took over the manor. He tried limiting his broadcast of feelings, muting them for the others’ sake, but he could never keep it quiet enough for them not to notice, not to go to him and try to remedy it. They comforted, distracted him, cried with him even. One time IV woke up in the middle of the night to climb into his bed and smother him in quiet affection when self-doubt plagued his mind, waking Vessel from restless sleep to find his partner there, who somehow felt his distress in his sleep and got woken by it, only for it to be his first instinct to offer comfort.
When sitting on his bed, he felt the stickiness of anxiety begin to seep into their link, he visualized their connection and put an imaginary hand over the line leading away from his mind, cutting his transmission off. He was tired, he didn’t want the others to have to bother with him again, he wanted them to rest a little, and enjoy the quiet humming of the bond without his senseless misery dragging them down. Then, after some careful concentration, the bond clicked out of place, a small, barely noticeable shift and Vessel felt relieved and a little proud that he finally figured it out. They had experimented a lot since the beginning, with the outflow of emotions, projecting feelings, pushing them through their link, gently tugging on each other’s minds, regulating their output during emotional moments. They learned to notice the smallest shifts in mood, when one of them needed some tenderness or privacy. Blocking each other out hadn’t emerged as an idea yet, or at least none of them mentioned it out loud, but Vessel thought about it, had even tried it, to no avail, until now. He still felt his own maelstrom of emotions, but the others became fuzzy to him. He felt them in the back of his mind, their calm content, but he was slightly disconnected from them. Perfect. He would just wait until this one passed, then switch back on, and the others wouldn’t have to worry about him. He could manage that. They were better off without h– it, anyways.
Vessel was convinced until he heard hurried footsteps rush up the stairs and IV calling out his name in a distressed tone. The knob on his door was turned promptly, IV’s panicked expression appearing in the doorway before he rushed to where Vessel was still distracted by his unexpected success. II dashed into the room next, III stumbling in last, all three of them looking at him with wide eyes - expecting injury, panic, or tears - as Vessel felt pure, cold fear from their bond, a little muted, but powerful nonetheless, knocking the air from his lungs.
“Love, what happened?” Hands hovered carefully around him.
“We can’t feel you.” Concerned gazes sought his.
“Are you alright?” He felt their bond shift in search of him.
“I–“ Vessel didn’t know what to say, satisfaction faltering before he offered, “I figured out how to disconnect. From the bond.” They all looked at him in disbelief, too shocked to say anything. He kept looking between them, faltering under the intensity of their gazes, sparks of emotions clashing against the imaginary hand squeezing his part of the bond, “I didn’t think you would notice. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Vessel started wringing his hands in his lap, “I just wanted to– help.” He uttered, growing unsure by the hurt in his partners’ eyes.
“Darling, shutting yourself off is not helping.” II stepped closer, gentle eyes filled with sorrow looking over Vessel’s face, studying him, although he immediately understood, Vessel’s words were telling enough even without the bond. “Not us, and definitely not you.” Shame bubbled up in Vessel’s chest, burning his face.
“We’re not mad, love,” III said quickly, in case Vessel misinterpreted the other’s words, and II added, “Of course not,” shaking his head for emphasis. Vessel looked over to IV, who rubbed slow circles onto the back of his hand, smiling at him softly to assure him that they meant what they said.
“I’m sorry.” Vessel averted his eyes, guilt welling up in him, the hand holding onto their link starting to ache with the ghosts of cramps, but still, it held on.
“Ves?” He looked up at that, into bright blue eyes that had a sad glint, and Vessel felt more regret swell in his chest. “Can you let go?” Vessel took some time, then shook his head at II’s question, realizing he couldn’t open his link again. He tried picturing it like before, concentrating on letting go of the tight, grasping feeling, but it didn’t happen.
“I–, I can’t.” He gasped out, tears welling up, chest beginning to hurt with the tangle of emotions.
“You don’t have to hide, bug.” III tried, brows lightly furrowed, lips downturned.
“No, I–“ Vessel shook his head, words stuck in his throat.
“We’re here, love, it’s okay,” IV added, Vessel shaking his head more frantically, causing the others to look at each other in concern.
“I c–can’t open it. It feels– stuck.” Sobs bubbled out of him, the reality that he might have ruined their connection dawning on him. “I’m sorry, I–“ He looked between them, at their panicked faces, and felt the confusion, heartbreak, and pure anxiety reverberating between the three. “Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He buried his face in his hands, trying again and again to open the bond back up, to reconnect to his loves, but he couldn’t. Nothing happened and his panic only grew, feelings getting jumbled with no outlet. He created an echo chamber of his own sorrow, now filled with remorse, bone-deep fear and so much guilt that he was choking on it. Vessel didn’t realize he started trembling, unable to focus on anything but the pleas for forgiveness spilling from his lips and the need to hide his face, until he felt a warm hand over his heart rubbing in small circles and an arm around his shoulders, bringing him to III’s torso, back to the present moment. He started gasping for air, shoulders shaking against his partner, who simply held him, shushing the mutters of apologies.
“We’re here, Ves. It’s gonna be okay.” III tried so hard to sound reassuring and Vessel could feel he was telling the truth - or at least he thought he was - but the shakiness of his partner’s conviction was clear. Vessel tried to avoid worrying them and instead shoved them into the thick of it without as much as a warning, selfish as he was.
“Maybe you’re too tense right now and it’ll come back later.” II provided, hopeful, brushing hair away from Vessel’s face to coax him to look into his eyes.
“But–, what if–“
“Love, I don’t think we can do much about it right now.” IV spoke, a comfortless admission following the casual warmth of the nickname, “We might as well get some food in you and get you all cozy, so you can try and relax.” IV rubbed his hand low on Vessel’s back, still tracing shapes with the other on his hand.
“There’s some cheese biscuits in the freezer.” III let his fingers tangle in the hair at Vessel’s nape and pressed a light kiss to his forehead, then he left the room and they soon heard the soft thuds of his footsteps down the stairs.
They settled in Vessel’s bedroom when they saw the man couldn’t seem to move, clenching the sheets like he wanted to use their threads to repair what he destroyed. Food and warm drinks were brought up - though, they had little appetite - only eating enough to avoid another discomfort and to share nibbles of pastry. They switched on the TV, its sounds an ignorable murmur, a futile attempt at distraction, still, they stared at the screen, following the happenings for a fraction of a minute before their minds wandered. The four of them lay there, with Vessel in the middle, his partners trading emotions between them, quiet doubts answered with soft promises, soothing overspilt worry, quelling sudden, loud bursts of fear with hopeful conviction.
Vessel felt he couldn’t look at them, but still did, from time to time, their eyes immediately finding his just to catch new tears forming. Tissues piled up, Vessel gathering them up to toss into the bin in the corner before any of his partners could. Arms enveloped him, but he felt cold, still, even if the touches didn’t hold a grudge. II caressed his chest from behind, drawing shapes and nosing between his shoulder blades, murmuring into the soft material of his sweater. Still, it calmed him somewhat, along with III combing through his hair as he lay his head in his lap, IV curling up in front of him and hugging one of Vessel’s arms over his chest. They weren’t mad. They knew him, were familiar with his instinct to hide, but that didn’t stop them from wishing that he could be free from it. They had done what they always did: provided comfort to get through it together.
When it finally happened, it felt like the release of a bowstring, as the bond snapped back into place, Vessel drifting around in restless rumination. His breath hitched as the tightness in his chest receded, gasping for air in sudden amazement at familiarity welcoming him, the others embracing him with joy and unfiltered love, flooding his whole body.
“There you are, bug.” II let Vessel turn around and bury his face in his shoulder, then sat them both up, cradling the back of his partner’s head protectively, feeling his eyes get misty as his neck grow damp with hot tears, Vessel’s sharp inhales cold against his skin.
“It’s good to feel you again, Ves.” IV joined in, voice quivering, warm hands rubbing along Vessel’s shoulders, his other arm finding its way around II, trying to comfort both partners, gently eyeing the third. Strong waves of relief flooded their bond and so much love that Vessel’s bundle of guilt wavered.
“Please, don’t hide again, love.” A kiss at the crown of his head, so gentle he felt undeserving, “I never want to feel like we’ve lost you.” When III’s words registered, Vessel’s chest shook with a sob, ripped from deep within, then another hand joined II’s on his head, caressing down towards his neck, playing with the shorter hairs there, before shifting along his jaw to ease their love’s face towards him.
“I’m sorry.” Was all Vessel could offer to the blurred face in front of him, blinking in quick succession to see the expression on it, although he could feel the relief, the worry, the forgiveness – unnecessary, but there, for him to take, to soothe his upset.
“Sweetheart. You know we don’t mind feeling you in the bond, right?” III's hand came up to caress his cheek, Vessel leaning into it on instinct, suddenly craving warmth, “It’s you. We could never–”
“But you’re tired…”
“Sure, but we can still be there with you.” IV leaned closer to kiss his shoulder, nudging his face against it after, basking in the way he could feel the other’s presence in his mind now, too.
“Or around you, if you want space.” II ran his hands up and down his side and Vessel let his head fall against the other’s chest again, III following his cheek with his hand, almost afraid to let go.
“Next time, can you–" III opened his mouth to continue, trying to convey what he wanted to say as gently as possible.
"I promise I'll try." To come to you, to tell, to not hide. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh–, love. C’mere.” IV extracted Vessel from II’s arms, and enveloped him in a hug, as III continued to blink slowly at him, a gentle wave caressing his end of the bond, now that it could, a lazy practice of push and pull, a motion familiar and taken for granted. They held back as much as they could, not wanting to overwhelm Vessel, but reached out nonetheless, familiar brushes of assurance, as they felt his panic dissipate, leaving behind so much regret and self-hatred that fresh worry flared in the three of them, making Vessel flinch. “No-no. Bug. Listen to me.” He pulled Vessel’s head back, cradling his face between his hands, using his thumbs to wipe his tears, “It’s okay. You can tell us to leave you alone when you want.” Vessel let out a small whimper, exhaling through his mouth as he clutched onto IV’s hoodie at his side. “But you’re never bothering us, okay? Not when you come to us,” a few fingers wiped at Vessel’s left cheek, “not when we come to you,” a brush of knuckles on his right, “not in the bond when you want to be alone.” IV’s hands returned to hold Vessel’s face level with his, pure adoration pouring from his gaze and warming all four of them through the bond.
As Vessel tried to process what he heard, he mouthed one last ‘I’m sorry’ with a teary grimace, exhaustion taking over his whole being, startling his partners into abandoning the topic for the moment.
“We’re okay, Vessel. Let’s try to sleep?” II offered, III already standing from the bed to get clothes from the dresser. He turned his back towards Vessel and a dull ache rose in the bond, quickly tucked under the tangle of emotions already there, but Vessel couldn’t stop his tongue.
“Can you– stay, please?” His voice shook a little, earning three little bursts of heartache.
“We wouldn’t leave you right now, darling,” III said softly, gesturing towards the bed with a change of clothes now in hand, “C’mon, shower time.”
III brushed his teeth, while Vessel cleaned himself, then settled to hum a tune the other couldn’t quite place, smiling at Vessel in his cozy sweatpants and baggy hoodie. When they returned the other two were already in bed, waiting for them to settle before pulling the blankets over them. II hugged IV from behind after he pressed a gentle kiss to Vessel’s lips, nuzzling their noses together with a small smile and IV simply nodded when Vessel hesitantly shuffled towards him, closing the distance between them, capturing his lips in a kiss that made warmth settle in Vessel’s chest. III gave two quick kisses to the back of his neck and murmured, “Get some sleep, bug”.
They were there. They didn’t leave. Vessel could feel them and they could feel him in return. Everything would be alright.