Work Text:
Not once in his life had Hunter needed to deal with the quiet of the night.
The castle was always full of life: guards and people of other high positions running, conversing, and overall performing their duty in the hallways behind his thin bedroom door; these sounds could often be heard late into the night, as there was never any real curfew at the Emperor's Coven. You worked as long, as much as you needed to; as much as was expected from you, if not more. Often, it wasn't any different for him. Sleep was a virtue. You slept when you were done with your work. If you weren't done on time, you wouldn't sleep. It was as simple as that.
But, regardless of whether he worked; lied awake in his room, overthinking any small mistake of his that may have upset a certain someone; spent the little free time he had indulging himself with the books that lined his floor in stacks, not stopping until he was physically unable to force himself awake, no matter how enticing the chapter, nodding off in the middle of a sentence he already had to re-read multiple times; or actually purposely allowed himself a few hours of rest... one thing was evidently clear: he was never alone within the walls of the castle.
At his old residence—his old home—where he lived after returning to the Demon Realm from the Human Realm, his mornings would be greeted by calming radio tunes coming from either the bathroom or kitchen, sometimes accompanied by the sound of brewing coffee, while his days would end to the echoing of an announcer or animated character trapped within the confines of a crystal ball, or the turning of pages—be it from studying or simply light reading, just as was the case back at the Coven—as the person who gave him shelter, Darius—the same person from whom the music and coffee brewing originated—made his final rounds around the house, checking to make sure that everything was put away as needed, and oftentimes, coming to knock on Hunter's door one last time, never asking directly whether he needed or Darius should bring him anything, but the intent being quite clear. It usually didn't take long for Hunter to drift off to sleep after the fact... if he hadn't already, that is.
Hunter would usually find out that he was checked up on as soon as he got up the next day and had to (unfortunately) endure another round of teasing about how "innocently adorable" he looked cuddling his wolf plushie in his sleep, compared to how "bratty" and how much of a "menace" he could be while awake. Those remarks were always accompanied with a light grin, letting him know that those comments didn't come from a place of ill will... but, he didn't appreciate being called adorable, regardless!
Still, Darius never went to bed late. Which meant that, on those nights, Hunter had drifted off even earlier.
In the matter of a few months, he went from sleeping only few to no hours at all every night to amassing, what others called, a "healthy amount."
Not much changed within his habits, though.
Purposeful rest was a rarity for him at the Emperor's Coven; most bouts of sleep overcame him in the late hours of the night, against his will, as he clung to the little bit of free time he had, wishing to extend it, but ultimately succumbing to the limits of his body.
A bad habit that he brought with him to his new life: sure, he had all the free time he ever wanted, seeing as being present for his lessons at Hexside required much fewer hours of his day than his time as the Golden Guard ever did; but, he also had much more to do within his free time. He had friends he cared about, people he wanted to spend time with. And thus, all the activities he wanted to partake in while alone in the comfort of his room, once again found themselves in the late night slots.
The difference? He had become more exhausted: instead of being able to hold out until at the very least 3 or 4am, he would be snoozing by midnight. Instead of having to be up at insanely early hours, he wasn't required to be out of the house until around 8-ish. And that's not even accounting for the weekends, which went from letting him "sleep in" until the amazing hour of 6am at the Coven to letting him doze for however long he wanted to. Honestly, it felt absurd.
And due to said absurdity, he tried... he really did. He tried so, so often to maintain the lifestyle he had back in his early days, living on between three and no hours of sleep nightly, as it had worked before. But, with trying to force so few hours of rest upon himself during the school week, the few times it ever even worked, came the inevitable crash on the weekend. No matter how often the others spouted that, "sleeping eight to nine hours every night was healthy, and that he deserved to sleep in on the weekends," he couldn't help but feel a weird ache in his stomach whenever he woke up on a Saturday, finding himself staring at double digits when he went to check for the time.
Sure, he had been suffering from fewer headaches, and his eyes weren't burning as much as they used to—the latter genuinely coming as a surprise to him, for it was a sensation he couldn't ever remember being without—it just didn't... feel good... knowing he wasted so much of his time doing nothing but lying around, unconscious, starting his day so late, waking up at a time that would have been preceded by four or five hours of productivity in the past.
So, the question always came up... why did he fail at something he used to be good at? When did he suddenly become so... lazy?
He remembers Camila suggesting that his body may have never truly been capable of the feats it committed during his time at the Coven, and may have only pushed itself to the brinks out of some sense of fear... knowing that sleeping in—or, rather, missing the appointed starting time for one's shift—was an absolute travesty of a misconduct, and one that he most definitely could not have allowed himself.
Yet, he's not at the Coven anymore. He's away from there. He's surrounded by people who would never dare to hurt him. He's in an environment that allows one to consider themselves first. His body found himself in a space where it could allow itself to rest, and slowly, but surely, provided him the means to do so.
He was no longer in danger. He no longer needed to be on constant alert. His body could finally catch up on what it had been denied all those years.
He could finally just... sleep.
It took him quite a while to accept that as a reality. Even today, he still struggles with feelings of guilt from going through with his well-deserved rest.
But, he learned that it is okay. If he wants to go to sleep early and wake up early, he may do that. If he'd prefer to stay up late to have more nightly time to pursue his hobbies with the trade-in of having a slightly later start to the next day, he may do that as well.
Though, as mentioned before, staying up as late as he used to provided quite the challenge. He would often find himself drifting off before the new day even began.
However, nothing would get him to rest earlier than whenever he was talking with... her.
When he wasn't reading, studying, or otherwise emerged in his favourite movies or shows, he would find himself being blessed by the tones of a beautiful voice coming from the other side of his communication scroll, lulling him to sleep, giving him absolutely no chance to fight against the oncoming fatigue, making him wonder whether said voice was laced with the sprinkles of the mightiest sleep spell the Isles have ever known.
If her voice wasn't coming from the scroll, it meant he was lucky enough to hear it come from the source directly... if not her voice, then the quiet, adorable snores that she would occasionally emit within her slumber.
Yet, even if she was completely silent, just lying there with her eyes closed, a serene look on her face... he knew one thing: she was here. He felt safe.
On many evenings, he would find himself talking or texting with her... Willow.
It had become a habit that built up over time.
They already got into many late night conversations when he was still back at the Coven—after he had set up his Penstagram account—losing track of the hours. During their two-month-stay in the Human Realm, they grew closer as friends, best friends—sharing many moments that he will never forget for the rest of his life.
And once they returned to the Demon Realm, their bond only grew stronger by the day; from almost daily texts—which eventually included daily "good morning" and "good night"s—to late night calls, to spending basically every weekend at each other's homes; sometimes after spending the day with one or more of their other friends, only to end up dispersing together... it was as if the moment they linked pinkies marked the day they became stuck together, becoming an inseparable pair.
As irony would have it, the nights he spent with her—online or in-person—would always end up being his shortest days.
There was a pattern... either she would eventually say "good night" and go to sleep first, or he would be lulled by her voice, by her words... by her simple presence.
He never ended a conversation on purpose. He never could bring himself to do so.
And, it was the same for anything involving any of his loved ones. If they never eventually ended any of their hang-outs or sessions of their own accords—be it because they were busy and had other plans, tired, or it was simply getting late—then they would probably go on forever. Hunter would never end them. He would never bring an end to anything that makes his heart feel so light.
Going to Sci-Fi conventions with Gus, eating dinner at the Noceda household with Luz and her family, playing Flyer Derby with or against his teammates... all of those were precious events that he wished could go on... forever.
However, that feeling was strongest with Willow. For simply being in her presence was more than enough to make him dream of eternity.
Yet, again ironically, despite all his efforts to never end their time together, to keep it going for as long as possible, he would always fall asleep the earliest when he was talking to her.
Eventually, he ended up thinking... yes. Camila was right.
It took an embarrassing amount of time to realise it, accept it, come to terms with it, but she was right.
The more at peace one feels, the easier it is to rest; aligned with or against one's will.
And so, it makes all the more sense to him...
...that he is being kept awake by an oncoming sense of dread at this very moment.
He is lying in his bed. A relatively new bed, as they picked this one out when they first moved in together a few months ago.
Moving in together... had been one of the things he most anticipated when he started working as a Palisman carver.
Hunter and Willow had become a couple a little over a year after they returned to the Boiling Isles. He had been very unsure of it at first, seeing as he had no experience of any sort and was morbidly terrified of messing up, but... it all worked out in the end.
By the time he finally mustered up the courage to leave the home he had grown accustomed to, and acknowledging just how heavy his heart felt when Darius gave him one of his signature hair ruffles upon leaving, Willow and him had been together for almost six years.
As sad as he was moving out of the shelter Darius had provided him, he was looking forward to turning over a new page with the partner whom he loved so much, feeling a sense of accomplishment, but also indescribable happiness, once they moved into their new home—a small little cottage sitting by the edge of the forest.
His own little home, shared between him and the person he loves... it almost felt surreal. Hell, it still does.
Not once did he dream—or even consider the possibility—of reaching such an exciting goal. And, honestly? He never needed it.
He would have been fine living anywhere as long as it's far away from the remains of the castle. He doesn't need a partner and could easily be happy without one, thus knowing he would have been content calling Willow "only" a friend... the fact that she—and all the others from their group—were even in his life to begin with was more than enough for him, more than he ever would have dared to ask for.
But, now that he has come so far... now that he is lucky enough to call Willow his partner, to be able to live in this gorgeous little home with her... he knows that, while he never needed it, while he never would have asked for it, lest he speak out of turn, now that he gets to have that as part of his life, he never wants to lose it.
Every night, when they lie down together in their shared bed—him on the right, her on the left—cuddling and falling asleep in each other's arms (with his wolf plushie between them), he would thank the Titan for granting him this chance.
Every morning, when he wakes up to the sound of her humming as she's getting ready for the new day, he would thank the Titan for showing him such happiness.
Every evening, when he comes home from a day of Palisman carving, being able to greet her with a kiss to the cheek, such a gesture coming to him much more naturally as it did when they first started dating, he would thank the Titan.
He doesn't consider himself religious anymore, nor does he have as much fearsome respect for the Titan as he did when he was still under Coven's rule... but, in moments like these, he can't help but be thankful and appreciative to some invisible force.
Thinking about it now... maybe he should have reconsidered whom to show his appreciation towards. Maybe it wasn't fair to thank some being that doesn't even exist to them; for when he thanks the Titan, he isn't specifically thinking of the Owl Lady's adopted son. He is simply thanking the concept of a deity, the One who allegedly had "special plans for him."
He knows that was a lie. He knows none of that was ever remotely true.
But he must thank Him, for as much as his happiness grows, the stronger the fear of losing everything becomes.
So, he shall thank Him. Thank Him so that He does not take away the blessing he has achieved.
That's what he thought.
Right now, all he can think about... is how stupid he is.
Right now, all he can think about is her.
Right now, all he wants to do is thank her.
Willow... she is the one deserving of his thanks. She is the one who chose to stand by his side, after all.
The Titan never had anything to do with it. It was all her.
He turns over to her side of the bed.
It is empty.
The pillow is fluffed up, indicating it hasn't been used in a while.
The sheets were taken off of the blanket, for it wasn't in use right now.
Willow isn't there. He cannot thank her.
She isn't there... hasn't been for a few days.
The reason she isn't there isn't a bad one... quite the contrary.
About a year ago, Willow managed to achieve something quite amazing: she had become the star player of the Boiling Isles' main Flyer Derby team.
They threw a party for her, cheered her on, gave her their best wishes and congratulations.
Hunter remembers that day very well... to say he was proud of her was an understatement.
The day Hunter and Willow met, when he had gone undercover as a Hexside student to find new recruits for the Coven, happened to be the same day Willow founded the school's very first Flyer Derby team in a while.
She went from being the captain of a school sports team to becoming one of the best of the best. He can say he was lucky enough to watch her entire journey. He saw her evolve. He was there to witness her take the first steps towards her dream.
Shortly after said celebration, she had to leave for a while to play in the major leagues. It was weird not having her around for what was about a month, and he missed her terribly, but... he was fine. He could still text her, video call her... he had his work, he hung out with his friends, he watched every single sports broadcast over his crystal ball, cheering her on... and, when she did finally come back, he held her for a long, long time.
It was a long month. He was fine, but he did miss her.
No matter how much he missed her, he was fine. He didn't break. He knew she would come back after all.
And, he should know the same this time as well.
Despite that, he had not been able to rest easy since she left about a little over a week ago.
They still text. They still video call. He still watches her broadcasts.
He goes to work. He hangs out with the others. Everything should be normal.
Yet... once he closes the front door of their cottage house, shutting the outside world away, a pit forms in his stomach.
He hasn't been eating much. Sure, he cooks himself meals—he never was an amazing cook, but he is far from bad—but, he is barely able to keep them down.
He has been spending more time in the shower, his thoughts often drifting off, becoming jumbled, eating away at his sense of time.
And at night, when he lies down to go to sleep... his eyes remain wide open.
He barely eats, so his stomach hurts. He showers late and long, so his hair is still wet, causing him to shiver.
Though, it's not as if he's never gone to bed hungry and with wet hair before... the pit in his stomach grows, the shivering becoming harder to shake off.
The first night, he assumed he was falling ill... might be a fever.
He abandoned that thought when he left the house to go to work, slowly feeling himself revitalised, despite the lack of food.
The day went on, he had a hearty lunch during break, and he went home at the usual time.
Once the front door closed behind him, it started all over again.
Couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. His head becoming overwhelmed with thoughts. Thoughts that he couldn't articulate. Thoughts he couldn't comprehend.
The room was silent.
He wasn't alone in there, as his own personal Palisman, Waffle, was sleeping in a nest created out of one of Hunter's old aprons, but, compared to her late older brother, Flapjack, who had a habit of singing in his sleep, Waffle did not let a single sound escape from her beak.
Despite there being a second presence in the room, the room was silent. It was silent enough for Hunter to be able to hear his ever increasing heartbeat, still surprised to this day that, as a Grimwalker whose biology should be of a different kind, it was indistinguishable from his peers'.
Oftentimes, he would begin to doubt, jumping up and quickly turning on the lights, just to make sure... yes. Yes, Waffle is still there. Okay. Good. ... good...
... his hand feels disgusting... sticky... he can feel splinters piercing his skin...
So, he goes to the bathroom.
He needs to wash his hands.
He needs to wash the splinters out.
The water flows.
He holds his hand under it. It burns.
He takes the soap, scrubbing his hand with it.
Where did all those splinters come from?
The water in the sink becomes foamy.
Must have happened at work...
The water is clear.
Weird... he is usually more careful than that.
It burns.
Oh, well... accidents happen all the time. He'll just pay more attention tomorrow.
Hard and cold. There are dull pecks against something hard and cold, unmovable.
Splinters digging even deeper into his skin, reaching through his flesh, all the way into his veins.
Echoes of a frantic voice, unable to reach him.
Travelling through his body, a sharp pain eating at his wrist.
What a horrible accident.
The water becomes tinted red.
The next day, the third day of Willow's absence, he leaves the house with cuts and bruises all over his hand.
He doesn't remember what happened, but figures some band-aids will do the trick.
The third night remains the same... sleepless. Silent.
Shivering. In pain.
Though the work days were fun, he could feel the lack of sleep get to him. Hunter felt irritable, accidentally lashing out at Dell over something incredibly minor... he quickly apologised, and he accepted it, not seeming to take it personally, thankfully, but that small mishap remained on his conscience for the rest of the workday.
The fourth night was easier to bear... for he managed to get a video call in with her.
It was nice. They would talk about their day, talk about what has been going on lately in general, drop some "I love you"s and "I miss you"s... though it was on a scroll, he was allowed to see her again, see her smile, see her eyes sparkle, hear her speak, hear her laugh... for the first time that week, his heart felt light again.
He only lasted thirty minutes until exhaustion overcame him and he began dozing off to the sound of her voice.
In the middle of the night, he woke up again, his scroll lying next to him. Without hesitation, he checked to see whether she was still there... however, all that he would be greeted with was a text from her, wishing him a "good night."
She was gone. It was silent again.
A sudden cold, piercing sensation overcame him. The once floaty feeling of his heart was replaced by a heavy weight, causing it to sink.
All she did was hang up after he had accidentally fallen asleep, something that wasn't even close to being a rare occurance...
Why did it feel so much like she abandoned him...?
He wanted so bad to reach out to her, question her, call her out on her leaving him, but—... he was being silly.
She did nothing wrong. He was the problem.
He was the one who wasn't taking her absence well. She seemed to be happy, to be shining, she's living her dream after all—yet all he could do was mope and suffer. She will be back in a few weeks, she isn't gone forever, yet here he was, thinking he had the right to think that she abandoned him, after he was the one who fell asleep on her.
And even so, despite his rational view of the situation, he felt hurt. He felt scared. What exactly he was scared of, he couldn't even say... he just knew that the silence was insufferable.
On the fifth day, he met Darius after work.
He didn't hesitate long to ask Hunter whether he would like to stay over in his old room for the weekend, with the excuse that Raine cancelled on him and he now needed someone else to have his so-called "spa day" with.
Why he needed to sleep over for that, he didn't understand at the time. But, he didn't dare to decline.
The weekend was refreshing. It felt nice sleeping in his old bed, having meals with Darius... despite only being a few months since he moved out, it all felt very nostalgic.
He fell asleep to the sound of Darius checking things around the house, hearing him knock against his door and indirectly asking whether he needed anything—to which he barely remembers answering... he was very tired—and woke up to the smell of coffee wafting through the house.
Sunday evening rolled around, and Hunter—without even thinking—sheepishly asked whether it would be all right for him to stay a few days beyond the weekend... only realising later why, that question having come out of him almost automatically.
The days continued, he went to work, came back to Darius', ate dinner with him, talked about his day, rinse and repeat... his heart calmed down...
In the end, he knew he couldn't rely on Darius forever... though he won't deny... he dreaded going back to his new home.
But, why? Wasn't he happy? Didn't he love moving into that cottage with Willow? He didn't understand. The first time Willow left, he missed her, yet was doing fine... what was so different that he couldn't bear being in that house all by himself?
A few more days had gone by since then.
Hunter is still staring at Willow's side of the bed. It was still empty.
Waffle had found her way over to Hunter in the meantime, having sat down comfortably in his soft, messy hair. She preferred her own space more than Flapjack ever did, therefore her using his hair as some sort of bed didn't happen quite as often as it did with the latter... so, he learned to appreciate the moments when it did happen. Part of him had to wonder whether she could sense his uneasiness... but, it didn't matter. She's here right now, and that's all that matters to him.
It wasn't enough to completely lull him to sleep, but his heartbeat wasn't as loud... the hole in his stomach didn't seem as big... it allowed him to think more rationally.
Hunter was proud of Willow. He loved seeing her play over the crystal ball. He was happy knowing that he was lucky enough to fall in love with someone as amazing as her.
The bitter emotions he felt on the day he fell asleep on her had long dissipated. It wasn't fair on her, after all. She should not be made the victim of his insecurities.
Long has it been since he could say that he felt safe in this house... he had been working longer hours, spending more time outside, hanging out with Gus and Amity, both individually and together, and made sure to invite Luz over for the weekend; seeing how often he had been invited over to the Nocedas, it would only be right to return the favour, and maybe next time, once he gains more confidence over letting people into his own private space, he could extend the invitation over to Vee and Camila. ... if he can find space for everyone, that is.
... speaking of space, he still needs to grab tickets for the new Cosmic Frontier movie that is coming out very soon... no way in Hell will he let that opportunity go by! Him and Camila have been gushing about it for a while, keeping it a secret from Gus, so as to surprise him... it is his birthday soon, and what better birthday present could exist than seeing their most beloved characters of all time projected on the big screens! He'll be jumping for joy!
Just as he was about to start fantasising about the above and beyond, he was pulled back to reality by the message notification sound of his scroll. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the profile picture of one beautiful girl, hair covered in flowers, pop up on his screen... it was Willow, coming in to send her usual "good night"-message.
He pauses, staring at the message for about a minute.
It was already quite late. He wouldn't be surprised if she put her own scroll away the moment she hit send.
Yet, something urges him... his heart has once again started racing, though this time it wasn't out of fear... at least, not solely...
She was right there. He saw her. She may already be gone, but he saw her. And, his heart lit up. It lit up knowing that her presence could be felt, if only for a split second.
He didn't want to lose it.
"Hello? Hunny?"
She picked up...
"... Hunny? Hello? ... is everything okay? You suddenly called..."
For just a few seconds, he didn't know how to respond. This came as a surprise, not just to Willow, but to Hunter as well.
He hadn't even realised that he hit the call button...
"... are you awake? ... did you call me by mistake...? ... Should I, uhhh... hang up again—..."
"No!"
...
"... are you okay—..."
"Can we stay like this for the night? ... please...?"
A few long seconds of silence... she must have not expected that.
Usually, Willow was the one who would call in the middle of the night and make such a request; mostly, upon experiencing one of her reocurring nightmares, to which after she needed to make sure that, yes, Hunter is definitely alive. He definitely survived that night back in the Human Realm.
Not once had Hunter ever made such a request... until this day.
"... all right... I am here..."
Her voice was calm and reassuring.
"... thank you..."
They didn't talk much after that.
Shuffling blankets could be heard on the other end of the receiver, but after that, he didn't hear much.
For Hunter, that was okay.
She may not be there next to him. She may be far away for now. That could not change the strength of her presence.
This one night won't heal him. He knows that he'll continue to struggle with her absence, for as long as he is without peers within this building, but he'll manage. He isn't alone. Waffle is here with him, and if it ever gets too much, he has people he can rely on... something he has also needed to learn over the years. And, something he still continues to re-learn each and every day.
He isn't alone.
"... Willow...?"
"Hm...?"
She already sounded kind of sleepy...
"... thank you."
"Huh...? ... you already said that earlier..."
"I know. This one was for something else."
"... hmmm...? For what...?"
A small little smile spread across his face...
"It's a secret..."
"Hmmm... meaaaanieeee..."
Oh, she is definitely sleepy. It was kind of adorable...
They didn't exchange any further words for the rest of the night.
Whether Willow was already asleep or not, Hunter couldn't tell.
His smile still ever present, he allowed his own eyes to fall shut... with Waffle nearby and Willow by his side, he could finally learn how to feel at peace...
There were no sounds.
But, it was quiet no longer.