Work Text:
Mental illness is a bitch.
That’s what you chalked it up to, at least. The constant exhaustion, the newly-recurring anxiety attacks, the nonchalance that had turned into apathy.
It didn’t change anything, of course. You still had to go to work, still had to file reports and kill Wanderers no matter what shape you were in. Not like they’d take a day off if you did. Your weekends were just less busy now, opting to spend your time lying in bed instead of exhausting yourself further by attempting to plan things to do.
The worst part of it was, nobody around you seemed to notice. You were too tired in the mornings to cover up your dark circles or iron your wrinkled hunter’s uniform, but everyone around you proceeded as normal. Tara still tried to invite you for drinks every night after work, and Xavier berated you for not having tried the newest release of his favorite video game yet. They didn’t ask about why you denied every request to spend time with them, and you didn’t offer any explanations.
You thought you could just keep going like this until your body kicked itself back into gear and you worked yourself out of your latest depressive relapse. Throwing yourself into work had to be helpful, right? But you weren’t working the way you used to, making excuses every time Rafayel needed ‘his favorite bodyguard’ at an event, and canceling every appointment that wasn’t mandatory with Zayne. Some part of you didn’t want them seeing you like this, seeing you so weak.
The problems started to present themselves just an hour or two after you got a call from Luke. It was a video call, his and Kieran’s masked faces peering at you from the other side of the screen, harassing you into agreeing to a ‘friendly’ game of kitty cards later in the weekend. No matter how many times you refused, the twins didn’t take no for an answer, and somehow wheedled you into promising you’d bring them a treat when you saw them. Sylus was quick to text you after they called, no doubt the mastermind behind the whole operation.
Sylus: I hear we’re on for kitty cards tomorrow.
Sylus: I hope you’re ready for the twins’ sticky fingers
You: I suppose I had better be
You: Do you happen to know what snacks will appease them?
Sylus: If by ‘appease’ you mean ‘go easy on you’ the answer is nothing
Sylus: they’ve always been partial to sour candies
You: Thanks, you’re a lifesaver
As your doomed card game night approached you, you couldn’t help but be nervous. Sylus had a unique talent of seeing right through you, one he usually didn’t even have to use his Aether core to implement. You added at least three layers of concealer to your undereyes, praying it would be enough, and wore baggy clothing to hide the fact that you’d lost weight. It wasn’t your fault that cooking meals for yourself was too taxing to drag yourself out of bed for.
Once you arrived at the home of your favorite fearsome Onychinus leader, you rang the doorbell, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet. It was an old nervous habit, one of those that you hadn’t been able to completely stop doing.
As the door swung open to reveal Sylus in all his glory, you couldn’t help but grin. It had been abnormally long since you’d seen him, you realized, and you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed any time you did get to spend together, given his busy schedule.
Stepping through the threshold and kicking off your shoes, you heard vague noises of discontent from the other room – evidently, the twins had already started playing their games. You gave Sylus a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before dispatching yourself to the living room to deal with their shenanigans.
You were unprepared for the state you would find them in, Luke cowering behind the couch with a pillow over his head as Kieran grabbed a second cushion to toss in his general direction. The game was discarded on the floor, clearly forgotten in lieu of their makeshift pillow fight. Before the violence could get any more destructive (for Sylus’ furniture, of course) you cleared your throat.
“Boys, what are you doing?”
The twins looked in your direction in unison, the epitome of caught red handed. Quickly, they devolved into a cacophony of explanations and accusations regarding their games and who had thrown the first pillow. While you pretended to listen to them, you felt Sylus follow you in, resting his hands on your shoulders. You leaned slightly back into his warmth, relishing the comfort that his presence exuded.
He reached down into the grocery bag that rested, forgotten, in the crook of your elbow, retrieving the two sourest candies you’d been able to find at the store. The twins immediately stopped talking, their eyes following the food in front of them. You felt, more than heard, Sylus’ chuckle before he spoke.
“Something tells me that our Hunter hasn’t brought these nice candies for naughty things such as yourselves, boys.”
Their eyes immediately turned to you, and you could have laughed at how quickly the fearsome Onychinus guard dogs turned into pouting children in front of your eyes. Crossing your arms in front of you, you pretended to consider them for a second.
“I think, Luke, Kieran,” you said, gesturing to each of them, “that you can earn these treats if you make up and apologize to each other,”
The speed with which they turned to spout their apologies before stepping in your direction was immediate. Sylus handed them each one of the packages, and as you shouted warnings at them as they left the room with their prizes. You had, after all, been forced to give identification when purchasing the candies marketed as the ‘sourest in all of Linkon’. Something told you neither of the twins would be returning any time soon.
You turned back to Sylus, interlacing your fingers with his before leading him to sit on the couch with you. The two of you caught up about the latest goings-on of his operations, latest episodes of your favorite shows, and anything that avoided how you had been doing recently. When he asked, you just joked around, answering him with another question about his work or his newest hobbies. You hoped, prayed really, that he didn’t notice.
He did. He’d noticed the minute you walked in the door, the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He’d noticed how small you felt when he hugged you tightly. He saw the creases that formed between your layers of makeup. And now, as he picked you up to sit in his lap, he felt how light you were. Too light. He saw the way you deflected his genuine concern with humor, and he could see you wouldn’t tell him the truth unless he was direct about it.
Turning your head with his first finger, he forced you to meet his eyes.
“Kitten,” he began, “what’s really going on? You’re going through something, I can tell.”
His honesty stunned you for a moment, and you sat there, mouth agape, before tears pricked at the edges of your eyes. You buried your head in his shoulder, hating when people saw you cry. He let you take your time, rubbing one of his hands in soothing circles on your back. It took longer than you would have wished, and you felt every excruciating moment as more tears leaked onto his shirt. Eventually, you calmed yourself down enough to talk to him.
“I don’t really know what it is,” you started, “I’m just… I’ve just been so exhausted with everything lately,” You shook your head, fighting back more tears as they threatened to spill. With his free hand, Sylus stroked your face, using his thumb to push away the rivulets of water streaming down your cheeks.
You continued, “At first I thought it was my depression again, or burnout, but it won’t go away, and I don’t know what to do.” The admission scared you, something you hadn’t even let yourself think, and it brought on a new wave of sobs. He kissed your forehead, holding you tighter to himself.
After a few more minutes, you managed to get control of yourself again. Warily, you looked back up to find his ruby-red eyes watching you earnestly.
“Thank you for telling me this, kitten. I’m sorry you’re going through these issues. Would you be willing to let me try to help you?”
You took a deep breath and let it out before nodding, resting your head once more against his shoulder.
He stroked his fingers through the hair at the crown of your head and said, “Stay here for a few days. Rest, relax, and let me take care of you. Then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound doable?”
You couldn’t think of a proposition you’d rather take. With a faint smile, you responded, “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Sylus.”
He shook his head, dismissing your gratitude. “Anything for you, kitten. All you have to do is say the word.”
You nuzzled further into his neck as your eyes slipped closed, the crying having taken it out of you. The shifting beneath you alerted you that Sylus was carrying you to the bedroom, depositing you gently on his mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.
You heard water running before he returned with a washcloth, gently gliding it over your face. You grumbled slightly, and he whispered into your ear, “for your makeup, dearest.” You would have been surprised, but he knew. Of course he could tell, he always could.
He finished, setting the cloth on the nightstand before sliding you over and taking your spot on the bed. Instinctively, you curled your arms around his chest, resting your head on his bicep. He maneuvered the covers over both of you using his other arm, and slowly, you were able to fall asleep to the sounds of his breathing.