thecapitol | [closed] quiet now in sleepy dreams

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[closed] quiet now in sleepy dreams

Who| Karkat and Nill
What| Karkat is being dumb about sleeping right.
Where| District 9.
When| During the week between Dave's death and return.
Warnings/Notes| Violent imagery in Karkat's nightmare.

The worst things about waiting for your best friend to come back from death is that there's always the possibility that he might not. As the days stretch it's this thought that catches at Karkat, worrying him, needling his mind whenever he thinks he's found a calm moment. Often enough he's come up to stick around district 9's suite, lingering in the kitchen or the commons, or today standing right beside Dave's door. He's not in it, not back yet, but he waits. Just in case. He might come here still.

But for all that worry and anxiety, he hasn't slept. He barely sleeps anyway, waking too early from bad dreams or simply keeping himself up and awake, refusing to let himself deal with inevitable daymares, nightmares, whichever. It hasn't helped the other days when he's gone down and trained himself to a physical exhaustion to match the mental, but even relaxation and warm showers don't make the latter go away.

It's obvious, too. Karkat may always carry the look of someone who doesn't sleep enough, but the bags under his eyes are darker, the droop of his lids dips a little too long, his focus is off. As he leans at the wall, arms crossed, his chip tips more than once when a blink last a little too long. Still he doesn't leave, and he doesn't let himself rest.

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It's not hard to tell exactly why Karkat seems to be spending more of his time over the past week in her district than his own; it's been days since Dave died, and it seems more often that not the Tributes come back a day or two later. It hadn't been the case with Karkat, but for it to not be the case with not only him, but Dave as well? It's a little too coincidental. The likelihood of Dave coming back at all goes down every day, much like Karkat seems to spend a little more time there each day that Dave is still gone.

Nill's done her best to be around. Though she still goes to the training center every day and the rooftop every night she has cut down on her other rituals considerably. There's no real need for a Tribute to go grocery shopping but Nill always does under more normal circumstances. She hasn't done nearly enough, but it hasn't stopped her from trying yet.

Intent on at least trying to keep an eye on Karkat, Nill has left behind her studies in the common room so that she can go to her own room and trying to check on Karkat without seeming too worried. It's the only reason she catches his head tipping, or the fact that sometimes she sees his eyes stay closed for a good twenty seconds before wrenching open again.

She offers him a small smile when she approaches, fleeting but gentle. Of course she has writing tools.

you look exhausted.

Karkat might have noticed her better if he had been more awake, but as things stand it's not until she's right near him that it really registers. He blinks once, twice--oh, right, she's written something. At least it's a short message; there's been times he's sat trying to read a book, going over the same page time and time again without absorbing any of it, only to finally give up for the day.

"Yeah--yeah, kind of," he murmurs, and it's evident in his voice as well. "But I'm alright."

He's been going this long, hasn't he? But it would be different if he had been better rested to start. In the arenas it feels too dangerous to sleep, and outside of them he never wants to because of the dreams he would get. It's a poor combination, and even putting him back in his original condition post-death doesn't save him from the built up effect of too little rest.

He's too tired to even manage some slightly grouchy small talk. Nill herself never sleeps much, for the same reasons as him to a certain extent, but she has actually gotten some sleep in the past day or two, which she's not confident enough to say the same about Karkat.

when was the last time you slept?

"Uh."

Sleep. Sleep. When did he sleep? He squints a bit, and squints more, and his eyes fall shut--wait, crap. His head jolts up.

"A... while ago... I don't know." He makes a fiddly hand motion, then brings it in to cover a yawn. "But I'm fine. I'm just waiting for Dave. There's, I need to tell him about things."

If he comes back, he does not add. He's going to. He has to.

Probably about the stuff he told her after he first came back from the Arena, Nill assumes. She's also fairly certain that Karkat not falling asleep mid-conversation would help that effort significantly. He only manages about a word before he jolts up again, and whenever he remembers sleeping last was probably a long while ago.

you should to get some rest.
staying up won't bring him back faster.

She is very carefully avoiding any implication of a scenario in which Dave doesn't come back. It wouldn't help anything if she didn't.

Karkat frowns crookedly, rereading her words once despite understanding them fine the first time.

"But I don't know when he's coming back," he protests weakly. It's been an anxious weight sitting in his chest for days. He feels like he should say more, but he's not quite able to pull the feelings out into words, mind too uncooperative and the sentiment perhaps hard on its own.

you can stay on this floor.

She doesn't want to be too aggressive with her fretting, no matter how warranted it might be, but if she can convince him that it's not actually leaving his post then he might actually be glad to do it.

you can sleep in my room or on a couch.
I can wake you when he gets here.

This time it does take him a moment longer to parse, visible in the creasing between his eyebrows, but he gets it. It's not the first time she's let him sleep here, though that seems distant now after the arena and stress.

It's the last line that sticks with him. "You will?" He looks to her face.

But what was the first part again? - Oh. With a glance away he considers the couch option, but there are others on this floor, and he's probably taken up enough space there this week in sitting and reading and waiting. "Your room would be better."

When it actually occurs to him to look at her more directly Nill is quick to give him a reassuring smile. His conversational skills really do seem to be suffering a little from how tired he is, more than just impeding small talk. The extent to which he's out of it is almost a little ridiculous, and she's quietly grateful he's not being stubborn about it.

I will.
you can use my room any time you're here.

The numbers of her district have been dwindling a bit as of late, and it's easy enough to tell when people are around. He might hear it if Dave came back, and that way he could actually get some decent sleep instead of staying up at all hours.

He'd be more wordy if he could just coerce his brain into working right, but it's already half asleep without his leave. He yawns again, blinks a little, and reads.

"I'm not gonna need it," he says, words running more together than his usual clear speech, then reaches thoughtlessly for her hand. "Come on, where's your room? Maybe I'll rest my ganderbulbs."

Or conk out for hours, whichever. And sure, he knows where her room is, but she's here right now and it seems perfectly logical to have her lead.

Well, if she wasn't grateful for the ease of this earlier, she sure is now, because Nill is not altogether certain if Karkat just wants her to lead or if he's honestly not sure at the moment which room is hers. He's totally gonna need it, but that can be something to worry about in another day or two after he has once again not slept, unless Dave actually shows up at that point.

She gives his hand a very slight squeeze before heading down the hall, one of the rooms a little further from the common room than most. She gently pulls Karkat into it, shutting the door for the time being out of habit. The bed is made but has a few different books - all on sign language - on the comforter, leftover from whenever she slept last, and Nill scoops them up to deposit on the bedside table before gesturing for Karkat to make himself comfortable.

Karkat follows her easily, no fuss or complaint or even the back-and-forth 'but are you sure' of the other time. He probably could find her room if he put his mind to it, but the thing is he didn't want to.

He stands for a quiet moment, watching as she clears away books that would interest him more had he the mind to actually read their titles, then follows her gesture over to the bed with shuffling steps. He manages to sit at the side rather than just flop down, which feels like an accomplishment.

"I'm just taking a break," he says to her like a warning, eyes catching hers as he toes his off his shoes and .5 sock. (It hangs halfway off his foot, forgotten, when he shuffles his legs onto the bed.) "Just a break," he repeats, and lays back.

A moment later his eyes are closed, and they do not reopen.

He actually kind of manages to do more than Nill was expecting, so he definitely gets points for that. It doesn't actually last when he falls asleep in about 0.3 seconds, mind you, but it was still kind of impressive. Nill turns back to him, already writing something on her notepad - midway through do you want anything? - when she realizes that he's already asleep. She flips it to a new page and replaces it with a larger, spiral-bound notebook from the desk, on top of grabbing one of the books.

Then she goes over and sits down, leaning her back a little against the wall by the door frame. Maybe she should go, but being around while Karkat rests is something that's becoming close to a norm thanks to the Arenas, and she doesn't think on it much. Plus, this way she would hear it when Dave came back, and wake Karkat up more quickly.

She sets about taking notes and trying to figure out what else would be good to teach to someone new to sign language, which will probably keep her occupied for most of the time that he's asleep.

For a time Karkat sleeps well. He clearly needed the rest, tired as he was after who knows how many days without. He made it through Sgrub with barely any, but that was a different, isolated time in his life compared to this. He snores a little from time to time, but not badly, and eventually shifts enough in his sleep that he ends up cocooned in her blankets.

Meanwhile, his mind sinks into dreams.

He's in the arena again. It's like the space arena, the time he found the Signless in the room with the puzzle: the one with the light-up tile paths and sliding blocks, only the paths keep changing, and lava seeps up through the gaps. His ancestor is saying something but he can't hear it, and he's so hot that it's hard to focus on what he's doing. Worse is that laughing--it starts up in the background, but grows louder and clearer until it's a cacophony of great, nasal honks. Gamzee is watching and waiting, perched on the other side of the chasm the crumbling white paths span. He pushes a block and it falls down to the lava below; he steps over, finally, onto the other side.

The sword stabs in before he can see it. It withdraws and stabs again, and again, and again... Gamzee is laughing still, holding the blade by the dragon head handle, his eyes dyed red with rage. He has far too many teeth, speckled with wet, bloody teal and indigo, dripping from fangs and down his front. Karkat tries to plead with him but all that comes out are sounds of pain, sharp and hissing as the blade twists by Terezi's hand. Her blind red eyes bore into him like the heat of the lava, and she's crying teal streaks.

"Why didn't you save me?" She twists the blade again. "You were supposed to die."

"No, no..."

He's clawing at her as a ceiling of rocks crumbles around him. His leg is broken and he's choking on blood, a searing pain in his side. She'll kill him if he doesn't stop her, and his arms are heavy and slow as he struggles. She'll devour his flesh, and he sees the long, long fangs hanging out of a mouth opened too wide.

"Why?" he tries to ask, but she can't speak: she's Nill and she's never spoken, and he doesn't want to die but her black, syrupy blood is bleeding out from too many holes, burning his skin bright and hot wherever it touches. He has to kill her. She's hurting, she's suffering, he'll burn alive if he doesn't. His arms are useless, but he leans up, jaw open wide...

For all the horrors of the Arenas, if there is anything to be said about them, it's that many tributes rarely have the opportunity for nightmares. The Space Arena had been a swifter brand of hell with multiple deaths every day - when Nill was with her friends she did her best to ward off bad dreams, but it wasn't often that they dozed off long enough to have them to begin with. Others were woken by the dreams themselves, too on edge in the Arena to not have the instinct to start awake. In the next Arena Nill wasn't with Karkat long enough to see his nightmares from a purely outside perspective, and what little time they were together he had probably made sure she slept more than him. (She's not certain of that for sure - near the end she'd started to run a pretty high temperature, yet another reason for her failure. She felt kind of awful for most of the last few days, and that made some details blurry.) The movement is normal enough, but Nill hasn't really gotten to hear Karkat talk much in his sleep.

She thinks she imagined the mumbling, looking up from her notebook with a sentence in a bullet point half written, and while Karkat remains mostly silent it's becoming clear that something is wrong. The way his fingers pull at the covers is indicative of that much, and she might need to get a new one given the claws that trolls have, even if he's not actually managing much. As it stands that's the least of her concerns anyway. She's quick and quiet as she sets her books and pencils aside, and then she's on her feet, heading over to the bed. She remembers Karkat warning her about his nightmares, that he might react as if he was still in it, but even that isn't a huge concern - it would be kinder than leaving him in whatever hell his mind has conjured.

Still, his mouth is wide and Nill's not going to be dumb about it. She approaches from the side, not as quiet as usual, and reaches her right hand out to very gently and carefully touched his shoulder. If he reacts poorly to that then that's what her left forearm is for.

It's probably for his own good that he's wound up cocooned in her blankets. Part of it is instinct, like a human might curl to fetal position. But the point is that this way his arms are caught, unable to turn those claws on anything outward. It means he can't grab her when she approaches and places her hand to his shoulder.

She has a hold on him now, and no matter how gentle it doesn't matter when the black of her blood cracks and splits to bright, humid lava against his skin. He is on fire, flesh and clothes burning. It has pooled around his feet and is raising up, consuming him inch by inch and cooking the meat of him to roast, to burn, to ash. He should be dead for it, but his body still struggles on, a low, pained growl rolling from his throat. She is near and he can smell her, and his head turns past the heat at his shoulder to close teeth on her arm.

His teeth aren't as formidable as they could be, lacking the long, protruding fangs of certain teammates or the razor-edge triangular points of others, but even with their rounded shapes they carry a sharpness greater than a human's. He bites slow but firm, hating that it has to come to this, and it's her throat in his mouth now, breath wheezing past his ear as he tries to squeeze something vital enough to end it.

Though she was prepared for the possibility Nill still starts a little when his teeth close on her arm, and the ensuing flinch is more because of memory than actual pain in the present. She remembers how it felt when his teeth closed around her throat, the spots in her vision, the very brief and instinctual struggle for air. She also remembers thinking he would never forgive himself, she should never have let him, while simultaneously overwhelmed because the closer she got to death the less she actually felt the acid under her skin when the blood had nowhere else to escape to. Because of that she knows he's not biting down as hard as he could be either, and she should probably be grateful for that.

Even now he shows no signs of actually waking up, and Nill isn't sure if that can be attributed more to his lack of sleep or if it's a testament to just how awful his daymare is this time. She tries to nudge his shoulder, get his unconscious attention enough that he might wake up, but if clamping his teeth on someone's arm didn't do it then that wouldn't work well either, and Nill knows it.

Luckily she does know at least one way to get Karkat to calm down, even if it's crossing into territory that she's not really supposed to wander near now that she knows the implications of it. Troll romance still kind of confuses her a little but at least it works, and she's sure if nothing else Karkat will understand later. The hesitation doesn't last long - the longer she waits the longer she leaves him in his daymare - and Nill finally moves her hand from his shoulder up to touch her fingertips to his cheek before just cupping it in her palm entirely. She pats his cheek once, careful and a little awkward, and then waits to see if that actually helped or if she just made it worse.

It's somewhere between the two: the dream is heavy on his mind after so long of not sleeping, and all the harsh emotions attached don't help. It's a terrible mix of terrible memories caging his mind like a labyrinth.

A nudge to his shoulder, a touch to his cheek, a pap--

He stalls. His mouth is still on her arm, teeth not loosening yet not clamping any harder. Confusion twitches across his face. The image flickers: Gamzee? But no, no it can't be. Gamzee left. Gamzee killed him, and he doesn't have a shred of pity left inside him. But who? The throat in his mouth becomes a wad of something else: flesh and fabric, indistinct, the shoulder and hair behind smokey and shapeless.

That worked significantly better than she was expecting for just a pat on the cheek. He's certainly not awake yet, and he isn't anywhere near feeling safe, but he's stopped actively biting down on her arm, which means it's done a fair job of reaching him past whatever instincts led him to bite in the first place.

While certain that she should probably not actually keep using this method, given the implications, she doesn't actually know of anything else that might help things. Karkat didn't really do calm if he'd actually slept in the last day, and nothing with an equivalent effect comes to mind. Her wings fluttering, uncertain, but she pats his cheek a second time and then a third, trying to gauge just how much might either chase away the dream or wake him up without being too harsh on him.

Someone is definitely papping him. He can't figure out what he's doing, but he can tell that much, and the touch is soft and warm on his cheek. Warmer than expected. He still can't make sense of the figure in front of him, but they want clearly for him to stop. His mouth slackens bit by bit, gentle almost, letting go of the shapeless mass he held clasped in his teeth.

What has he done? He doesn't even have a moirail, but someone has seen fit to come and play-act the part for whatever transgression he made. He struggles, trying better to see and face them, but his arms and body still feel stuck. But his eyes twitch, and slowly the lids part, blink, and his gaze turns up.

Blonde hair, a hint of white wing. He squints, and still a bit bleary he asks, "Nill?"

It actually worked. Nill's wings flutter again, because she hadn't quite thought as far ahead as what she would do if he did wake up, but there's still some obvious relief in her expression. Though there wasn't much to begin with the tension leaks out of her shoulders, and she gives him a small, slightly lopsided smile, before she realizes her hand had stilled against his cheek when he started to wake up. She pulls it away, mostly because it's not necessary to keep papping him, and lifts her now free hand to give him a little wave in lieu of her lack of writing instruments at the ready. She has no idea how much of this whole thing he's going to piece together, but she's at least glad she got him out of that.

He blinks a time or two more, and a good part of him is debating the merits of just rolling over and going back to sleep, but the rest is still confused. He was fighting, and he's pretty sure he was on fire because of the lava, but at most now he just feels a little too warm from the blanket cocoon around him.

"Who was I biting?" he mumbles. And there goes her hand; his head turns to glance as it withdraws. Huh. So that's why it was warm--

He jerks up, struggles, tries again. It takes some wriggling, but he manages to sit up and free his arms, leaving him to stare at her with widened eyes and a rising pink tint to his face. He swallows thickly.

"Nill, what happened?"

Thankfully Nill's own room is much better equipped than the rest of the Capitol to offer people who can't talk easy communication methods. There are at least three different notepads around the room, and that's not even including the ones for her notes. Her notepad from earlier is still on the bedside table, and Nill scoops it up quickly, while also trying to shift her left arm so that it's more out of sight. She hasn't actually looked to see if the bite did any visible damage - it was the least of her concerns - but if it did then it might be better if Karkat doesn't see it.

bad dream.

Bad dream. That's indistinct, and pretty obvious the more he tries to focus his still-sleepy mind, and doesn't really tell him what he wants to know. But should he ask, if she's only telling that? Why only that?

He frowns at her for a moment, then pushes at the blankets some more so he can get off the bed.

"I'm going to go use the gaper and get a drink of water," he says as he approaches the door, only to pause and glance at her. "I'll be back."

Ahaha... Nill smiles, and offers him another quick and slightly awkward wave as he leaves, actually moving to take a seat on the bed instead of leaving her knees braced against the mattress like she has up until this point. She waits until he's a couple of steps down the hall before she actually goes to roll up her sleeve and inspect the damage.

There are obvious indentations in her skin where his teeth were sinking in, and a few have tiny red dots in the middle, burst blood vessels from the pressure. If she hadn't gotten him to stop when she did, or if she hadn't been wearing a long-sleeve shirt, he might have broken the skin. There are a few darker spots that will no doubt form into unpleasant bruises later, but it's not even a concern, or anything that she considers indicative of damage. She's always been quick to bruise, and aside from how it might look later it probably won't be anything worse than slightly sore. There aren't even holes in the sleeve. She rolls it down again quickly enough, and then if Karkat's not back she'll probably peek out the door. It would figure if Dave showed up now.

It's in the restroom that Karkat's mind really settles on what happened. The dream he had is a weight in the back of his mind, some unpleasant mix of blood, lava, and self-hatred. Nill was in it, he's sure the more he thinks about it, but that's a bit distant. Instead he wonders whether he bit her. Close as she was, he might have... but it's hard to tell much from a mouth that feels dry and tastes no blood.

But she stopped him. Whether from the dream or from biting her or both, she stopped him - and even if the latter, she had to be there for the dream first. More than that, she had her hand on his face, papping him down to calmness. She can't have meant it that way, did she? She didn't mention it. But then she didn't answer the biting question, either.

He chews his lip.

After a cold splash of water to grant alertness (if not wakefulness) he heads back out for the kitchen. His steps are slow, though, and after pouring his water he lingers in drinking it.

It's not just the papping, when he thinks about it. She got him to sleep, didn't she? He was half-asleep at the time, but that kind of concern... And she's popped by to give him sandwiches or tea while he's waited for Dave to show (which he still hasn't). In retrospect, the way he fussed at her in the arena could have taken a certain color, too.

He stares hard at his half-empty glass until he hears a door open; he empties it then and leaves the kitchen.

"I'm fine." He looks reddish around the cheeks. "Can I sleep more?" He's still tired, and he might as well save her worry.

Nill has her priorities, and telling Karkat that he managed to bite her in his sleep is about the precise opposite of anything even remotely close to those priorities.

She's not quite expecting the slight red tinge in his grey cheeks, even keeping in mind the situation before he left, and Nill nods quickly, wings fluttering awkwardly against her back. She nods, steps aside to let him in the room again, and then goes about gather up the notebook, book, and various writing tools that she'd been using while he slept. Before now it hadn't really occurred to her that maybe staying in the room was a bad idea, but now she's not completely sure that it's a good idea, either. Maybe it was time she took up residence on one of the couches.

He doesn't offer any explanation. If he plays things off as normal, then there's nothing to worry about, right? With her go ahead, he steps back inside.

"You, uh, don't have to stay here," comments Karkat as he goes for the bed. He sits on the edge; he'll have to sort out the covers before he lays down again. "I've dealt with daymares before, and unless the horrorterrors start poking their noodly appendages around my dreams then it won't be the worst that has happened. I'll be fine."

Avoiding her gaze, he sets to straightening the blankets.

Crud. She hadn't actually thought of that too much. Karkat getting more sleep is obviously the best ideal in this scenario, but usually if she has bad dreams they tend to prevent her from actually falling asleep again... or scare her away from trying to sleep. But if Karkat went back to sleep and if he had more--

are you sure?

She obviously looks a little conflicted on the matter, and definitely worried.

Oh god, kill him now. A concerned look might not mean much normally, and be perfectly in place for a concerned friend, but the preoccupation of Karkat's mind means he can't take it alone. She's already convinced him to get some rest, and she woke him from a nightmare, so sticking around out of concern could only be for the same reason. A croaking sort of noise hits around his throat, and he resumes not looking at her.

"Yep. I'm fine. Absolutely fine." His voice is too tight. He waves a shooing hand at her. "Watching me sleep is probably boring."

Edited (like the wording better this way) 2015-03-28 00:13 (UTC)

What is happening right now. Nill blinks, and some obvious confusion finds it's way into her expression. It doesn't beat out the concern at all of course, but the cause is obvious enough. What was that sound he just made..? Should she be worried?

At the same time his cheeks are looking a little less grey and a little more cherry red, and maybe that's a sign that this was indeed something she should not have done as far as his societal implications.

That's the part that makes Nill's own cheeks go red. Her wings flutter for the hundredth time, and though she nods she still looks a little hesitant. She does take a moment to cross the room and fish a pack of cigarettes out of her desk before she writes another message.

let me know if you need anything.

If he doesn't say much else on the matter Nill is gonna head back out to the common room. And smoke with her head out one of the windows so it doesn't stink up the place.

Karkat catches sight of her face in passing. Avoiding her face only has so much limit, and nearby motion is too much temptation. Why is she red now? He ends up plopping his face into a covering palm, and he wants to curse for how warm his cheeks feel.

No, nothing he needs, not a bit. Nothing but to maybe be alone and calm the fuck down and oh god everything is awkward. He waves her off without a word, and once she's gone he mashes his face into her pillow to cut off the urge to scream.

(He can be quiet when he wants. He's just not good at it.)

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[closed] quiet now in sleepy dreams

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wow I didn't hit send go me

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