Chapter Text
Dan Heng woke to Caelus sleeping at the foot of his bed.
He didn’t quite know what to do about it. There wasn’t any daylight when the Express was on the move, but Dan Heng estimated it at about five in the morning, too early for Caelus to be up for any reason. He was in a white shirt and shorts and curled up next to Dan Heng’s legs like a pet. His breathing was regular and deep and he was utterly still, other than the rise and fall of his ribs.
When had Caelus even come in? And why had he come in? Dan Heng stared at the sleeping trailblazer, lit by the faint glow of the floor, feeling a sort of softness in his chest. Dan Heng kicked him gently, knowing he wouldn’t get his answers from just looking.
Caelus stirred, if only to curl up further into his little ball. Dan Heng kept the heating on in the archives, but the hairs on Caelus’ bare arms were raised. Dan Heng also didn’t have much of a mattress to speak of, so Caelus might be uncomfortable as well as cold. He kicked him again, this time getting a soft, disgruntled sound out of him, but no further indication of consciousness. Dan Heng sighed, sitting up and shaking Caelus gently by the shoulder until he opened his eyes.
“Hello?” Caelus asked, his voice low and cracked from sleep.
“Caelus, what are you doing here?” Dan Heng whispered, and waited patiently for Caelus to get a sense of his surroundings. The trailblazer pushed himself up and blinked, looking around the room in a daze.
“What am I doing here?” he mumbled back to himself.
“You don’t remember coming in?” Dan Heng asked.
“No, I-“ Caelus frowned, “I definitely went to sleep in my own bed. I think… I think I had a dream? I don’t remember it.” His gold eyes almost lit up the dark, earnestly confused, his fingers worrying the blanket beneath him.
“Just… a normal dream?” Dan Heng asked. Caelus had just woken up after all, so he was trying to be tentative, sensitive. Caelus was not known to be a peaceful sleeper.
“I don’t think I can do normal dreams,” Caelus said with a wry smile. Dan Heng smoothed the sheets over his knees.
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” he muttered. Caelus turned to him, eyes now awake and concerned; but Dan Heng spoke again before the questions could begin. “Did you sleepwalk, then? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I must have done. Sorry, I’ll get out of your room,” he said, rising to his feet.
“It’s not my room, you can come in whenever you like,” Dan Heng said out of habit. The archives were not his bedroom. He just slept there and spent most of his time there. That’s all. “And, Caelus.” Caelus turned, the overthinking already showing in the lines of his face. “Whatever is worrying you, you can tell me about it.” Caelus smiled.
“You too, Dan Heng. I won’t wake you up again,” he said, and tiptoed out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
Dan Heng was left in the quiet and the dark, staring at the far all like he could see through it.
He and Caelus were not similar in many ways.
Caelus was extroverted and exploratory. Dan Heng was quiet and careful. Caelus enjoyed the fight, Dan Heng felt sick when he summoned Cloudpiercer. Caelus’ hobby was digging through trash cans, Dan Heng’s hobby was… not doing that. He didn’t always understand the way Caelus’ mind worked, the will of Destruction in him making him intensely difficult to read or predict at times.
But he could understand the tired look on his face some mornings, like he’d lived through a whole year overnight; the way he shook his head when the déjà vu hit; the achingly familiar smile when someone asked him if he’d slept well. Dan Heng didn’t think they’d ever spoken about it directly, and he wondered if Caelus recognised all of it in him as well.
Everyone has nightmares, but a nightmare is a critically fictional affair. Between Dan Heng’s echoes of his past sins and forced reincarnation, and whatever the Stellaron whispered to Caelus in the depths of silence, it was a miracle either of them slept at all.
Dan Heng could see the digital clock on the screen of the data bank tick over and knew he should go back to sleep. Although the Express crew were well-trained in dealing with a sleep-deprived Dan Heng, he didn’t feel like passing out in the passenger carriage halfway through the afternoon. Again.
He lay back down, thinking about Caelus.
Is he really alright? Did the Stellaron scare him? Was he really just sleepwalking or did he want to talk?
Dan Heng should have learned long ago not to overthink the mysteries of other people’s minds. At least it distracted him from his own.
And Caelus was probably fine, right? He’d said it wouldn’t happen again and Dan Heng believed him.
Caelus woke him up again three nights later.