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blitzendoggo · 2 years

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Sleep, Love

Callisto loves sleep, but he loves Prophis more, so when Prophis has a nightmare, Callisto is there to comfort him.

Takes place between Symmetry War finale and Symmetry Godforce ep1

Callisto/Prophis (2039 words)

~~~

Riftreach is quiet, well as quiet as a massive city can be. It's a rare occurrence, but the constant noise that normally fills the city is dulled to a distant low hum. The night life used to be very different -alive with constant chaos-faction parties or gatherings- but given the recent god-fight that happened, most people seem to be content to just stay locked away at night, curled tightly around their loved ones.

The moon is high in the sky and the wind whistles softly through the tall buildings singing a soft lullaby to anyone who finds themselves awake.

Which includes Callisto, surprisingly.

An important thing to understand about Callisto is that he values his sleep more than he values most mortal lives. It's not a question of if he would kill for sleep; it's how much has he killed for sleep?

One of the only people he would put above his own beauty rest is his beautiful boyfriend, who is asleep next to him. Prophis' hair is fanned out around him, framing his face perfectly even in his sleep. He breathes softly and looks more relaxed than he ever does when he's awake. This wasn't the case before he got locked away, or more accurately, before his sister died. He used to be easy smiles and quick jokes, but now his smiles are tired and pinched, and his jokes are a rare occurrence. Callisto lost him for centuries -so many, in fact, that he lost count- so forgive him for wanting to stare at him for a little longer. To take in every line of his face that he never forgot and will never forget. He misses the days of soft smiles and dumb mistakes, but if he could live in this moment for the rest of time, he very well might.

Callisto is drawn suddenly out of his mind by Prophis whimpering in his sleep. His face is slightly pinched with distress, and he keeps shifting slightly. He's clearly still asleep, but whatever he is dreaming about is not pleasant.

"Love, wake up," Callisto says softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.

"No, no, no," Prophis whimpers flinching away from the touch like it burned him.

Callisto pulls his hand away quickly. He stares at Prophis dumbly, at a lost for what to do. He was never good at comforting people, that was always Prophis' job, so he is out of his depth here.

"Prophis, wake up," Callisto says. "You're dreaming my love."

"No please." Tears begin to slowly fall from his face. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't. I didn't, I didn't, I-" He cuts himself off with a gut-wrenching sob. He continues chanting variations of "I didn't mean to hurt you" and "please don't" over and over.

"You haven't hurt anyone, my dear," Callisto says gently. He reaches up and touches Prophis' face. He gently thumbs away the tears as he whispers, "you have to wake up."

Prophis' eyes fly open, and he sits straight up, panting like a dog. He's calm for a moment before he begins to outright sob. Callisto gathers him into his arms, puts the blond man's head against his chest -which is slightly awkward as Prophis is taller than him by a few inches, but Callisto won't let something like that stop him- and rocks him while he cries out his emotions.

"It's alright, my love, I promise," Callisto whispers. He runs his fingers through Prophis' angel-like hair. "It was just a horrible dream."

"But it could have been real," Prophis whispers between sobs. "It felt so real, gods it felt so real!" Callisto hushes him.

"But it was just a dream."

"But what if it wasn't?" Prophis demands. "What if I actually-" he heaves a shaky breath and buries his head into Callisto's neck, clutching the fabric of his sleep shirt until his knuckles turn white.

"What if you what? What happened, my dear?" Callisto gently prods, knowing that his beautiful chaos god needs to let all the bad thoughts out of his head before he will calm down.

Prophis shakes his head. "I don't know if I can-"

"My love, you can tell me anything," Callisto interjects.

"But what if you-" A cry rips itself from Prophis' throat. "What if you hate me? Or what if you are afraid of me? Or- or-"

"I will never fear you, Prophis," Callisto says with an air of finality that leaves no room for argument. "I never feared you, even when you were twisted with Chaos magic and lost yourself." He runs a hand up and down Prophis' back. "I only ever saw my beautiful boyfriend who needed help, and who I had failed all those years ago."

Prophis tenses. "You never failed me." He says and looks up at Callisto for the first time. "We all made mistakes; you can't keep blaming yourself."

Callisto looks at him for a moment, awe struck by Prophis. Not by his words, he had told Callisto similar things nearly daily after he returned, but by how striking he looks in the pale moon light of the late night. His hair, normally a pale blond, is white in the faint light and his skin is nearly iridescently pale. Long shadows stretch across his face making his cheekbones higher and even more prominent. Most striking are his dark blue eyes, glittering and glowing with flecks of chaos magic that dance and swirl around his pupils.

He looks ethereal.

He belongs in a painting, or several thousand, but Callisto doubts any image would ever be able to capture Prophis' true beauty.

Callisto nods as he registers Prophis' words. He slowly cups Prophis' jaw and pulls him so that their faces are level and kisses him gently. Its soft and sweet and so perfect. But everything about Prophis is perfect in Callisto's opinion.

And Callisto is always right.

Prophis smiles into the kiss before slowly frowning and pulling away so that their foreheads are touching, and their lips are a hair's breadth away.

"What if it was real?" He asks softly, as if he's afraid that if he's too loud or moves too quickly the moment will shatter and he will wake up in his dream again.

"My dear, you haven't told me what happened in your dreams," Callisto reminds softly. He gently strokes his jaw with his thumb.

"I- okay." Prophis takes a deep breath before slowly breathing it out. He shifts so that his back is pressed to Callisto's chest -knees drawn up, not defensively, just so he can sit comfortably against the smaller boy- and he can stare out the window across the room from their bed. Callisto wraps one arm around Prophis' waist and leaves the other on his jaw, stroking his thumb back and forth in a soothing manner. He leans into Callisto's hand as he gathers his thoughts in a decent order.

"It started the way most of my dreams -the good ones mind you- do. We were walking the streets of Riftreach, but it wasn't exactly Riftreach. I suppose it had to have been Riftreach because this place feels like home, but maybe it's just because this is where we found each other again." He rolls his head back and leans fully against his boyfriend. He shuts his eyes and draws the nightmare back to the fore front of his mind. "It was normal. Perfectly normal and lovely. Until it wasn't.

"I touched something, I'm not sure what -a post of some sort maybe?- and it shifted and changed. It became distorted with Chaos magic, and I started freaking out because that's bad and I kind of pushed you away. And then there was this lady who came running up and started yelling at me for messing up the thing.

"I start apologizing and I think I was crying in my dream -if I wasn't I was definitely close to it- but she didn't care and then she hit me across the face. I didn't really care that she hit me, I was more worried that she had touched me.

"Then she started changing. She was screaming so loudly, god she screamed so much."

Tears start streaking down his face again, but Callisto wiped them away with his thumb as he listens attentively.

"When she was done shifting, she looked kind of like how I did. A centipede monster of sorts and a upside down head. And then you came back."

He laughs, although it was closer to a sob, and he nuzzles into Callisto's palm, seeking shelter from his horrible mind. It's not as rough as it was when they were young -he doesn't fight with swords as often as he once did- but it still has callouses in the places Prophis remembers him having them.

"And then you came back and started yelling at me. You called me all sorts of names. Monster. Freak."

Callisto tightens his hold on him and whispers in his ear, "I would never do that to you, my love."

"I know, that's why it hurt so much... But you were yelling at me and then you said that I would be better off in the Chaos Dimension again. I begged and pleaded for you to reconsider. I said I would do better, that it wouldn't happen again, but you wouldn't listen. You just wouldn't listen."

He's crying openly now, and Callisto starts rocking them back and forth again.

"I would never send you back. Never," Callisto murmurs as he presses soft kisses into Prophis' hair.

"But that's not where it ended. Then you grabbed me. You grabbed my arm and I lost control and you started shifting like the woman did."

A choked sob rips from his throat.

"You screamed so much. It hurts. I know it hurts, but I couldn't do anything. I tried so hard to do something to help you. I tried to end the spell, but I made it worse. Gods, I made everything worse. So, so much worse."

He draws a shuttering breath, forcing the images away from his brain before slowly speaking. "And then I woke up. I think my mind couldn't handle what it was seeing and forced me to wake up."

They sit in silence while Callisto processes everything he was just told.

"Well, I'm touching you now, aren't I? I'm holding you and kissing you, and you haven't lost control. I don't think you've ever lost control. Not since getting your memories back." Callisto reasons. He kisses Prophis' temple for good measure.

"But what if I do?"

Callisto sighs and places his face against Prophis' neck. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we get there." He presses a soft kiss to Prophis' neck before looking up at him.

"You won't- you wouldn't send me back... would you?" Prophis asks. Callisto can see the tears in his eyes glisten in the moon light.

"If I ever -and I do mean ever- try to send you back to that hellscape, run screaming in the other direction because you are talking to someone who has stolen my face," Callisto says in a dead serious tone.

Prophis smiles at him. "Not your beautiful face!" He says with fake worry. "Who will give me kisses?"

Callisto laughs at his antics and kisses him, putting all the love he has into that one kiss, hoping Prophis can feel it through his lips and understand how much he is loved. They sit there like that for a few more minutes, just looking at each other in the soft moon light, trading gentle kisses.

"Can we go back to sleep?" Prophis asks softly, breaking the moment.

"I was never asleep in the first place," Callisto says as they shift back into laying positions, still wrapped in each other's arms.

"You weren't?" Prophis questions, knowing how much his boyfriend loves his sleep.

"No, I was just watching you and thinking," Callisto says quietly as he buries his face into the back of Prophis' neck.

"I'm torn between thinking that is the most romantic thing you've ever told me or the creepiest," Prophis laughs.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Callisto huffs with no malice.

Prophis snickers. "Good night, Cal."

"Good night, love."

#d&dorks #pandaredd #sir_superhero #momoiscariot #nikhilclayton #naethan apollo #fanfic #Callisto/Prophis #Callisto #Prophis

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