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The fight had been over something stupid, a broken offering dish, easily replaced but of sentimental value to III. He had snapped uncharacteristically, yelling at Vessel to “stop being so clumsy and pay attention for once!” Vessel snapped back defensively, and then it just dissolved into angry nitpicking from both sides. II and IV quickly broke up the argument, trying to mediate with “there's no reason to yell” and “Vessel, please be more careful next time” and a “this isn't worth fighting over, III” that had the bassist storming out of the room, IV chasing after to try and smooth things over.
II stayed behind with Vessel, seeing the hurt in his eyes and the way he bit his lip the same way he always did when he was trying not to cry. “It's okay, Vess. III's just upset because that dish meant a lot to him. It was his mother's. He knows you didn't mean to, you just got caught up in the moment. You just have to be more careful, hon.” II said quietly, stroking his thumb over the back of Vessel's hand.
Vessel nodded, silent, worrying at the soft flesh of his mouth with sharp teeth until he tasted blood.
III and IV emerged from III's room after an hour or so. Vessel and III apologized to each other for the conflict, but the puffy redness of III's eyes made Vessel's heart hurt. He had done that. He had hurt him.
After an awkwardly silent lunch that Vessel picked at more than he ate, he disappeared for the rest of the day. He couldn't lock his door, his partners knew him and his tendencies too well to take that risk, so he made a show of keeping busy whenever someone checked in. Folding laundry, working on lyrics, all under the guise of “giving III some space,” even after III insisted he was fine. They all assumed Vessel was the one who wanted space and he was just struggling to ask for it. In a way, they were right.
When night fell, IV asked sweetly if Vessel wanted to cuddle, but Vessel said he'd be fine, he wasn't going to bed yet anyways. He tried to ignore the sad, slightly dejected look on IV's face as he left the room. Vessel didn't deserve someone as loving as him.
He didn't deserve any of them. All Vessel did was hurt them. All he did was take from them and demand more. He didn't deserve to be their First. He didn't deserve to be the mouthpiece of their god.
Some reasonable, logical part of Vessel's mind knew he was being irrational, knew he was spiraling, but it was drowned out with a mantra of leave leave leave you don't deserve them you deserve nothing leave.
So he did.
With the rest of the band sleeping soundly in their rooms, it was easy enough to give in to the impulse and slip out into the night. Vessel didn't even bother with shoes, clad only in a thin t-shirt and boxers. The pocket knife he kept hidden from the others in the back of his dresser fit snugly in his hand, like an old friend.
Vessel didn't deserve better friends.
The forest was dark and thick and Vessel didn't need to go far to completely lose the path back to the manor. He hoped he was far enough that the others wouldn't find him.
He had considered leaving a note, an apology for being such a burden on his loves, but Vessel knew there was nothing he could say to make up for the burden of his existence. Maybe they'd never find the body, assume he simply abandoned them, grow to resent him for his absence. He knew it would be better for them in the long run if they hated him.
Vessel sat on the ground against an old tree, the chill of the night seeping past his scant clothes and settling on his skin. He closed his eyes. He flicked the knife open and closed several times, hesitating.
He didn't even feel the first cut until it was halfway up his forearm.
Vessel hissed as the pain bloomed with the beads of red forming along the trench Vessel had made on himself. He dragged the knife over his skin several more times, switching to the other arm when the first became too covered in blood to see what he was doing. The other arm was clumsier, messier, Vessel rushing to finish the job before his hands became too numb to move.
Blood covered his shirt and was quickly spreading to the dirt underneath him. Vessel watched the scarlet trails drip down his arms, carrying his life with them. It hurt. It hurt so much. It was everything he wanted. Satisfied, he closed his eyes and slumped back against the tree. He hoped sleep would take him before Sleep did.
“Shit!”
The peaceful quiet was broken by the approach of yelling and frantic footsteps. When Vessel pried his eyes open, he saw that it was III.
“Shit, Vess! What the hell happened?!” III dropped to his knees before Vessel, wrestling his long limbs out of his hoodie so he could press the fabric against Vessel's wounds. His eyes were wide and panicked, illuminated by the flashlight he had dropped.
“You're supposed to be asleep.” Vessel said slowly. Every word felt like tar in his mouth. He tried to pull his arms from III's grip, but III wasn't letting go.
“So are you! Fuck!” III shouted. Vessel flinched back at the noise, so he softened his voice. “IV couldn't sleep, went in to curl up with you. You were gone, left your phone and everything, fuck, Vess, he was in tears before he even got to me!”
“Sorry.” Vessel couldn't meet III's eyes. “Just…don't want to hurt you guys anymore.”
III looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” He asked. The bassist's grip on Vessel's arms tightened suddenly. “Is this about that stupid dish? Sleep above, Vessel! It's a fucking bowl! It can be replaced! You're more important to me than a bowl, you idiot!” The anger in III's voice was sharp, but it wasn't directed at Vessel. “Did…did I make you think I didn't love you anymore or something?”
“S'not just the dish.” Vessel corrected as quickly as he could. A haze was starting to fill his head, making it hard to separate his thoughts.
“Shit, don't move your hands, Vess, you need help.” III placed Vessel's hands on his arms to keep pressure on the wounds as he pulled away just long enough to message II and IV. When he focused back on the singer, there was a distant, unfocused look in Vessel's eyes that scared him. “Hey, hey, stay with me. Keep talking, baby. What else could it be?”
It took Vessel longer to find the words he wanted than he expected. “Everything. Everything I do is wrong. You deserve better. You all do. Sleep does. Everything I do is wrong.”
“Vess…” III stroked Vessel's cheek with a bloodied thumb, wiping at tears Vessel hadn't realized were falling. “We love you. You're what brought us to Sleep. You brought us together. What would we even be without you?”
“Happy.”
III choked back a noise that made Vessel's heart twist. "You make me happy, Vessel. A mistake doesn't change that. A million mistakes won't change that.”
Vessel opened his mouth to respond, but the sudden arrival of II and IV distracted both of them. II, ever prepared, was already on the dirt pulling gauze from a first aid kit by the time Vessel could focus on him. IV was at Vessel's other side taking up the position of holding his arms with III. He looked like he was fighting not to cry.
There was a whirlwind of voices and movement that Vessel was suddenly finding very difficult to pay attention to. He just wanted to close his eyes, but every time he did a different pair of hands would jolt him back awake.
“We need to get him to a hospital.”
“I think you found him fast enough, if we can slow the bleeding and get him back to the house, Sleep will be able to fix it.”
“You sure? Hey, Vess! Eyes open! Vessel!”
The world went dark.
+++
“I wish it were easier to show you just how important you are.” Sleep placed His countless hands over arms dripping red. “Why do you not believe your fellow vessels when they share their love with you?”
“They deserve better.” Vessel refused to look at Sleep, choosing instead to watch the shifting shadows pool around his bare feet.
“Do you think them incapable of making that judgment for themselves?”
Vessel shook his head. “All I do is hurt them. I know they're sick of it.”
“So you consider my vessels to be liars?” Vessel tried to protest, but a bloodied, alien hand grasped him firmly by the chin, forcing him to look into Sleep's endless gaze. “Do you consider me a liar?”
“No! No, I just…” Vessel trailed off, unable to find the words to explain himself. He felt small before his god, like a child. “Everything I do feels like failure.” He finally said, quietly. “I'm tired of doing the wrong thing.”
“Does this feel like the right thing to do?”
“...I don't know.”
“Think on it, then. In the meantime, rest, recover, let my other vessels care for you. They need it as much as you do, I believe.” Sleep removed His hands from Vessel's arms, revealing the ugly, inflamed gashes he had left on himself, no longer bleeding so steadily. “You are important to me, my First.”
The void of Vessel's dream swirled with color as he began to wake, Sleep's visage replaced with that of the waking world.
+++
The room was swimming around Vessel as he blearily opened his eyes. The afternoon sun shone brightly into his room and made his head throb. His arms burned. Slowly, the events of the night came back to him.
Vessel had a vague recollection of being carried back to the house, of being gently placed near Sleep's altar, of the smell of blood and incense. He remembered the sound of crying.
Vessel tried to sit up, fighting the urge to puke as the room spun, but something held him to the bed. He wasn't alone, he realized.
III was pressed tightly to Vessel's side, fast asleep, still wearing his bloodstained jeans and shirt from the night before. One hand was curled loosely around Vessel's bandaged wrist. IV was just behind III with his face buried between the bassist's shoulder blades. II was curled up at Vessel's other side.
They were all clinging to Vessel like he'd disappear if they let go for even a moment.
Vessel sniffled, then he was choking on sobs, chest heaving with the effort it took to keep quiet. When he pulled his hand from III's to cover his mouth and stifle the noise, III woke anyway.
“Vess?” III lifted his head, eyes wide with disbelief at seeing the singer awake. “Oh fuck, don't cry, darling. It's okay.” III sat up and cradled Vessel's face in his hands. “It's okay, it's okay. Shit, I thought we were gonna lose you.” Vessel could see tears forming in III's eyes.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, III.” Vessel cried, letting his partner hold him close. He could feel the others beginning to stir as well. “It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm so sorry.”
II woke and immediately checked Vessel's bandages, dotted with tiny spots of blood but not yet soiled enough to change. Satisfied with the quick check up, II pressed Vessel's shaking fingers to his lips.
“If you ever scare me like that again, I'll drag you out of hell and kill you myself.” II murmured, voice thick with emotion. A faint, relieved smile formed on the drummer's face at Vessel's tearful laugh.
IV let out a quiet gasp as he rose. “You're awake! Sleep above, I was so scared.” The guitarist shuffled on his knees across the bed until he was between Vessel's legs, laying directly on the singer as soon as Vessel let him. IV wrapped his arms around Vessel's middle and buried his face in his chest. “I'm never letting you sleep alone again.” IV sniffled. “We love you, Vess. Please never forget that.”
“I love you too. I'm so sorry.” Vessel kissed the top of IV's head. A ball of guilt sat heavy in his throat. He had hurt them again. Like always. “I'm-”
“Shh, Vessel. It's ok, sweetheart.” II hushed Vessel before he could continue apologizing. “We're not mad at you. We'll talk about it later, but for now, just let us hold you, okay? We love you.”
Vessel nodded, trying to wipe his tears away until II stopped him. “You'll get your bandages wet if you keep that up.” The drummer teased, using a corner of the blanket to dab at Vessel's blotchy, wet face instead.
With a little adjustment of positions, III let Vessel use him as a pillow while IV was still wrapped around his middle. II curled in close and rested his head against Vessel's shoulder. Someone, IV maybe, started humming a simple, sweet tune, something familiar, soothing to the four of them. It didn't take long for the tears to slow as the pile of vessels drifted back to sleep, safe and together.