In a rare moment alone, II paces back and forth in his room. Stress has his nerves fried, mind running around in circles as he goes over his mental to-do list. It's up to him for this festival gig to go smoothly. He knows if he asks it of III, they would help, but II doesn't want to bother them with all of this technical stuff. And Vessel... isn't in a place where he can help with any of it. Perhaps in the future, but right now? II couldn't possibly ask.

Wringing his hands and shaking them out to try and release some of the tension keeping his muscles wound tight, II continues pacing, mouthing off his list.

On top of II's stress over the festival itself, he was trying to juggle Vessel's overwhelming anxiety over the crowds and performing in front of people other than them. Not to mention, III has been quieter than usual all day. Vessel had sought II out for affection, which he had been happy to give, and III had been the one to isolate themselves. It was worrying, and III hadn't opened up about what had upset them yet. II was afraid to pry, and wanted to give him space.

Vessel's promise had helped immensely, even if he knows it will be a hard one to keep to. The fact that Vessel has promised at all... it truly means the world to II that he was willing to try, even if it wasn't for Vessel's own sake.

II was so tired, all the time. He needed to be strong, be responsible, and take care of the other two. He wants to take care of them, wants to keep them happy and safe, its just... it's hard. Sometimes all II wanted was to be held and allowed to cry, but he couldn't allow it. If he shows weakness, II fears the others won't want to trust him with their problems.

Being the Second, the pillar of the foundation they've laid, crumbling or cracking under pressure... He must not allow it. He was a pillar for Vessel, for III, throughout their struggles and will happily continue to be so. He refuses to crumble under the weight of his responsibilities. II knows he's better than that, knows he can handle this just fine. He has to. There is no other option. If he crumbles, II fears the others may fall, too.

He has to be the voice of reason in their devotion to Sleep. Their worship of the God leads them to accepting treatment befitting of a servant under heel of its master. II won't allow it. Sleep has been... getting better, to put it nicely. It is not enough. II will make damn sure the God learns how to be kind, how to be human. III is already teaching Him, in their own way, so full of love and life and irrevocably human in spite of their death and rebirth.

So right now, II needs to pull himself together. This festival gig is important. It's their first ever show and everything has to go according to plan.

Taking a deep breath and wiping away his tears, II reopens the sliver of the bond he'd closed off, just to let his own emotions loose from the tight leash he kept on them. Just for a few moments. It was time to find the others, he decides, checking the time on his phone before slipping it into his pocket. III is easiest, his door opened up a crack again. Knocking lightly, II pushes it open to find III asleep, dried tears on his face. Not usually one to nap during the day like II does, it was strange to find III like this. Whatever it was must've upset them pretty bad.

"Sweetheart?" II shakes III's shoulders gently.

Uncharacteristically, III startles, flailing away from II quickly with eyes still half-shut and blurry from sleep. Breathing quickened with fear, III's arms come up instinctually to cover his face.

Vessel's bond lights up with panic, and II struggles to send reassurance down their bond while also trying to talk III back into the present.

"It's just me, sweetheart. You're here, at the manor. Vessel has gone out to the forest on a walk and should be back any minute now."

As II speaks, III's arms slowly lower, so II takes a moment to perch on the edge of the bed, ready to move away if III needs space. Instead, III clambers onto II's lap, arms thrown around his shoulders as III buries their face in the crook of his neck.

From his pocket, II's phone starts ringing loudly. It makes III tense further. II answers it, already knowing who is calling.

"What-?!" Vessel sounds frantic, but II moves to cut him off quickly.

"Hey, Ves. Everything's alright." II starts, not missing how III marginally relaxes further at Vessel's voice, "No one's hurt, sweetheart."

"What's wrong, Three?" II asks gently, stroking up and down III's back as he holds him close.

"Nightmare. Of my death. Thought I was still- I'm sorry." III says, meek in a way II isn't sure he's ever heard him.

"Oh, sweetheart, there's no need to apologize. You were scared. You haven't had one of those in some time, love. Was it... the whole thing or did it cut off partway through like the other times?" II presses occasional kisses onto the top of III's head, hitching cries making II's heart break in half.

"Whole thing. Felt so real, like I was dying all over again."

A strange sense of guilt is creeping along the bond, but II couldn't possibly imagine what Vessel was feeling guilty for.

"I'm coming back." Vessel states, before there's an odd sound, and a muffled, "Please stop that, you can't eat my phone-"

"You don't need to come back, Ves. I'm fine." III reassures, still trembling slightly in II's arms but there's a small smile pulling weakly at one side. "Just... scared still."

"I- I do not want to just- I'm worried about you."

"I promise I'm okay." III reassures again, breathing beginning to calm down.

"Do you have him, Two?" Vessel asks, finally, after a moment of contemplative silence.

"Of course. He's safe with me. All wrapped up in my arms and clutching at me like a koala."

There's a small laugh, hesitant and weighed down by worry, from the other end of the line, crackling with static. "If you're sure."

"I am. Enjoy the rest of your walk but don't forget we need to leave in a few hours."

"I'll try to keep track of time. Stay safe. I- I l- Stop that, what did I say? My phone isn't edible!" Vessel's end of the line cuts off before he can finish whatever it was he was going to say.

"You think that was the stag that follows Ves around?" III murmurs, kissing II's neck softly in thanks.

II hums, hand now running through III's hair and gently untangling it, "Yes, I'd say so. Would you like some coffee? It might help you feel better."

III hums in return, "Don't want to move. This is... safe. Can we just stay here for a while?"

"Of course sweetheart." II agrees easily, picking III up with little effort and laying them both down on the bed.

III snuggles up close, long arms wrapping around II's smaller frame and tangling their legs together. Now he really is like a koala, II thinks fondly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" II murmurs into III's hair, stroking over their back again.

They shake their head in vehement refusal, and II let's it go. III knows he's here if he ever wants to talk, and that's enough, for now.

They stay like that for some time, III eventually calming down. Responsibility forces II up, apologetic words and kisses being peppered all over III's face. III lets out small giggles as II does so, easing the rest of the worry from II's heart. He feels less reluctant to leave them when Elvira hops up on the bed and nips at III's fingers. II leaves him as III picks her up, cuddling her close and talking tender nonsense into her fur.

As II is packing up their bags into the trunk of Vessel's car, Vessel himself finally returns from the forest. There are dried tears on his cheeks, but a small smile pulling at his lips. There's a crow on his shoulder, keeping balance as Vessel walks.

"You may leave now, if you wish. We're leaving soon." Vessel says quietly, clearly talking to the bird perched beside his head.

It caws lowly, nibbling at a strand of white hair before taking off. Vessel's hair is blown around in the ensuing wind current it causes, and II thinks he looks particularly beautiful, six eyes squinting shut as his face scrunches up.

"I was going to help with that." Vessel says as he finally reaches II's side.

"I've got it. None of it's heavy." II refutes with a tired smile.

"Just because you can... doesn't mean you have to." Vessel's soft smile tilts into a frown as he moves to grab some of the bags still on the ground.

"That sounds familiar." II huffs, shaking his head with a smile of his own, watching as Vessel puts the last of the bags in the trunk.

Thankfully, there still seems to be room for Nick's bags and any equipment he has can be put in the trailer II has rented. It was a miracle they'd managed to fit this much of their stuff inside the car at all. II is thankful for the help, though, and makes sure to tell Vessel as much. Vessel reaches out to take II's hand, planting a soft kiss to his knuckles. It warms II's cheeks as well as his heart.

"How is Three?" Vessel asks as II closes the trunk.

"Better. Still a bit off, but they're smiling again. I'm not sure you heard, but they dreamed of their death. Usually neither of us ever manage to relive them fully, but it was different this time."

Vessel's smile strains, a bit of guilt creeping up the bond again before it is squashed out. II frowns, "It's not your fault, you know. You didn't give it to him. Nightmares are the brains way of processing bad things. At least, that's what some studies say. The important thing is that III can wake up and no longer be subject to that torment. You're not so lucky, it seems. Which... upsets me. More than you know."

Somehow, Vessel's guilt worsens, blaming himself for something II knows isn't his fault.

"Its not your fault, either." Vessel whispers, pressing his side into II's as they walk back to the manor.

"Is there nothing Sleep can do to keep you from dreaming of your past so realistically? You're... you're bringing your injuries back with you." II worries, clasping their hands together.

"Since Sleep was so adamant I not rest, I'd imagine it is something He cannot control. It is... my own doing, I think. I am able to move freely sometimes, once the worst is over." Vessel admits, struggling with himself to not mention their Fourth.

He is desperate to tell them, but fear stays his hand. Sleep knows nothing of that man, has not even chosen a Fourth vessel.

"I hate that you continue to suffer." II spits out, bitter on Vessel's behalf, "That you can't seem to escape from your past despite Sleep taking most of your memories."

"Sleep could not... take much. Faces, names, those were easy. My pain was... is... so ingrained in me that there was little Sleep could take from me. My good memories are few, and most of them connected to my music. To keep me whole enough to function as something more than an empty vessel-" Vessel breaks off into strained laughter, a short stint that breaks II's heart, "Sleep had to leave everything you and III might consider bad. I am nothing without my pain, and nothing without this mask. I do not regret any of it. I have you two now, that is all I need. I feel... less like something, more like someone."

II is struggling to speak past the knot that has formed in his throat, so full of love and a carefully hidden rage. At Vessel's past. At Sleep, for not softening the edges of what was done to Vessel. Would it have been better for Vessel to have been a completely blank slate? Would it have erased the damage done to his soul if his mind no longer remembered anything?

Vessel swallows, overcome with his desire to say just how much II and III mean to him. Now would be a good moment, he knows. His throat is closing up, his ability to speak beginning to slip away, and Vessel flounders. He cannot let himself lose his voice, not right now, not today. So he forces himself to speak.

"I am... broken into fractions. You and Three are the only thing I feel keeps me from splintering apart irreparably. You are filling in my cracked soul with gold."

Vessel and II glance down as one at the golden cracks crawling up the skin of Vessel's arms where his veins are, their hands still joined tightly, and II realizes the truth of it. The truth in what Vessel has said. He has changed himself for them, in more ways than one. But II knows it is good change, when it comes to Vessel's mentality. He's healing, and II is overcome with the reality of it standing right in front of him.

"Can... Can I kiss you? I can't seem to find the words to respond to what you've just told me, but I love you. I love you so much, and I want to show you. I want you to know, need you to know that you mean the world to me. Not everyone is a poet like you." II blurts, embarrassed at his own speechlessness.

Vessel smiles, bending down so he's closer to II's height. II grins, a sad thing filled with adoration, using his available hand to gently wrap around Vessel's nape and pull him down into a kiss just as gentle.

When they find it in themselves to part, it isn't for long. II kisses Vessel again, and once more for good measure. Vessel's smile is infectious, and II grins up at him beautifully, no longer quite as sad.

"I love you, too. We should head inside, we need to leave soon."

"I know you're right but-" II starts, getting up on his tiptoes to kiss Vessel one more time.

Vessel laughs, squeezing II's hand gently. He doesn't speak, only leads II into the house. Elvira meets them at the door, meowing insistently, so Vessel breaks off to go and feed her, picking her up and nuzzling into her fur. Gold stains the white of her fur where Vessel's tears have yet to completely dry, and II wonders what made him so emotional on his walk that he was brought to tears.

II wonders if he should go up to the altar to ask his important questions, but knows Sleep is usually listening if they just call out his name when around the manor.

"Sleep? Will you keep an eye on Elvira while we're gone? I don't know if you'll even be able to, but she needs to be fed and watered regularly. I know we won't be gone that long but... Is that something this house can even do?" II says, contemplative and a little desperate as Vessel comes back to linger at his side.

Sleep laughs, the sound booming through the house, startling Vessel so badly he knocks into II, "I am sure the manor is capable of it, but I will personally make sure your creature stays alive while you're away. It is a... curious thing, and I will admit I've grown, fond perhaps, of it."

II is silent, contemplative, a serious expression on his face as he pulls Vessel to him, rubbing soothing circles into his bicep to calm him down, "You swear you will keep her safe? She means the world to me. To us."

"I swear it, my Second. I will keep your creature safe until you return. She will stay in the manor, out of harms way." Sleep responds, just as serious as II.

"Then, thank you. It means a lot to me that you are doing this." II gives his gratitude, expression going a little tight with apprehension and worry.

Sleep claims to care for Vessel but does not keep him safe. II is assured in his distrust of Sleep being able to keep Elvira safe, either.

This would be easier if II had unwavering faith in Sleep like Vessel does. It was so easy for Vessel, and sometimes II wonders what the God did to inspire that sort of unwavering faith. What led Vessel here to Sleep? It is a question that has plagued II the entire time he has been a vessel. II wants to ask, finds himself with the words on the tip of his tongue, but he can never bring himself to speak them.

He knows how he himself came to be here, how Sleep found III.

They know nothing about Vessel's arrival. How long he had been alone in this manor by himself. Only that he had found his way here in the dark, and suffered, immobile but aware, for weeks before his transformation was over. He had done so alone, and II will not forgive Sleep for it.

They do not know how he died, nor what drew Sleep to him in the first place. It is the only question Vessel had avoided, in the beginning. It is something II and III fear the answer to now.

III makes his way down the staircase, then, pressing into Vessel's other side with red rimmed eyes. "What about my garden? Some of my plants need watered daily or they'll die."

"Nothing here will die so long as my First lives. The land is connected to his soul."

III accepts the answer, already knowing of Vessel's magical ability to keep plants alive. Sleep's words aren't much of a stretch.

"Thank you." III grins though its not as bright as usual, turning to II and Vessel, "Are we ready to go? Nick's asking where we are."

"I've loaded everything up in the car and trailer. All that should be left is ourselves." II says, readying himself to give a goodbye to Sleep.

Hopefully, he doesn't sound too disrespectful.

"I have a request to make of you, my vessels, before you leave. You must keep my First safe while he is not here on my land. Minor gods will likely send their servants to try and harm him. It will be harder to heal any damage his body sustains."

"They do not need to fight on my behalf. I can protect myself." Vessel tries to protest, but II is quick to shut that notion down.

"Is this the purpose of our weapons? Was this not something that should have been mentioned when we first attained our weapons in the first place?"

"I was not certain, then, if any minor gods would be interested in my First. An... oversight on my part. I should have known my reputation would bring enemies to our doorstep, even after all these years with so little power."

II tries not to let his frown become too apparent, but knows he fails when III reaches behind Vessel to place a gentle hand on II's lower back.

II opens his mouth to say something more, something he knows would be rude, but III doesn't give him the chance, "We can all manifest our weapons with ease now. I think the only problem will be our ability to fight."

"You will know, my Third."

Vessel's mouth twists into a grimace, ducking his head, guilt of something that has not yet come to pass. II's hand is warm in his when he goes in search of it, III still pressed into his side. "I do not want either of you to get hurt for me."

"You would do the same for us, wouldn't you, sweetheart? It's fine. We want to protect you."

Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, and releasing it before any further damage is caused, Vessel forces his words out, "Only if you let me protect you, too."

"Don't worry so much, Sugar. One glance from II with his serious icy blues and any minor gods who dare come after you will go running off with their tails between their legs." III grins, but it is easy for the others to see that they're worried too.

"Keep each other safe, my vessels, and return to me."

::

Once everyone has taken a long moment to cuddle Elvira, passing her between them while she meows indignantly at every kiss pressed upon her head, Vessel seals off the front door with vines. Then, they pile into the car. The moment Vessel is out of Sleep's earthly realm, something within him shifts, like the forest is calling him back. It's disorienting, leaving Vessel with a headache as he fights an instinctual reaction to toss himself out of the car and make his way back to the manor. III sits beside him, just until they get to Nick's apartment. They're warm against his side, close enough to feel Vessel tense up as they leave their realm.

"Ves? Are you alright?" They ask, not understanding what's happening.

Did they not feel the same pull Vessel does?

"The forest, the manor- knows I will be away. It knows I'm not just going into the city." Vessel grits out, a hand coming up to hold his head. "It wants me back."

"But this is our duty, given to us by Sleep. Why would-?" II states, turning the blinker on to pull the car over.

"Don't! Don't stop the car. If you stop, I'm not sure that I won't get out and run back. Please."

Vessel hunches over, sucking in deep breaths to try and calm himself, even if he doesn't truly need the air. III's hands hover over him, unsure of how to help. When he can feel the pull lessening marginally, though his headache only grows worse, Vessel speaks again.

"The forest is sentient. It is under Sleep's command, but it is also it's own entity. Sleep told me once that when I was made a vessel, it brought the forest back to life. Its- It's connected to me, similarly to how Sleep is."

"You've never mentioned this before, Ves." III says, quiet, a little hurt.

"I'm sorry- It... it slipped my mind. The news was dulled by my state of mind, I was... so tired, then. I never thought to tell either of you."

"Is that why the vines in the manor react to you as they do?"

Vessel scrunches his eyes shut, feeling sick over the lie he is about to tell. It's not... completely lying. Just... omitting some of the truth.

"Yes, part of it."

II and III share a glance in the rear view mirror when Vessel doesn't continue. "Please, Two, please just keep driving."

II glances back at him for a beat too long, eyes straying from the road dangerously, and then the car speeds up to the speed limit. Vessel is thankful, leaning into III and hiding his head behind III's shoulder. III's hand is on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles as Vessel tries to force himself to stay seated. It grows easier the further away they get, the distance stretching out and making the calls of Sleep's earthly realm quieter with every passing mile.

Vessel is tense the entire ride to the festival, a mix of nerves and close proximity to Nick keeping his body on high alert. Its a few cities over and the longest car ride they've all made together thus far. He is uncomfortable the whole trip, sitting in the backseat of the car with Nick, who they'd picked up from his apartment on the way. The back seat wasn't small, per se, but it didn't leave a lot of room for two full grown men to stretch out. It was fine, when it was III and Vessel in the back, but it left Fore being closer to Vessel than the other had ever allowed, bugs crawling along Vessel's skin at his nearness.

He kept making lingering glances whenever he thought Vessel wouldn't notice, or perhaps he knew Vessel felt his piercing gaze and simply continued.

II and III kept trying to make conversation with him, sharing concerned glances as Vessel falls into complete silence. III finds themselves wishing they'd stayed back there with him, but II needed help with navigation so he could keep his hands on the road and neither of them were sure Nick was up to the job.

The festival grounds are large, empty space dotted with stages and tents, festival crew milling about. III keeps a tight hold on Vessel's hand while the other follows after him closely, all three vessels wearing face masks to keep most of themselves covered. If this were their home they wouldn't have bothered but this is unknown territory for professional band duties, so they will keep themselves covered.

II gets them all checked in, and then they head back to their car for their equipment. Faint whispers follow Vessel wherever he goes, unintelligible as the few shadows around seem to reach towards him. He frowns, not understanding all throughout the day, long after their equipment is gathered and they wait for their set time to near. It's as they're meeting one of the festival workers for their stage does the realization finally strike him.

Sleep is remaining as close as He can get outside of his realm.

"Hey! Nice to meet you, my name's Sam. I'll be helping out as a stage hand for the day. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

II and III introduce themselves to the man who is taller than II but still not quite as tall as III, though it's a close thing. His hair is a dark mess of loose curls, in a shorter cut. Some tattoos adorn his arms bared by the festival worker uniform.

He seems friendly enough, Sleep's faint presence at Vessel's shoulder, growing stronger in clear interest. The whispers grow louder, Vessel's shadow against the dirt ground seeming to darken.

Vessel steps up, holding his hand out to be shaken, in a bold move spurred on by Sleep's presence. "Vessel. Pleasure to meet you."

As quiet as his voice is, Sam has to strain to hear him, but his smile remains kind, grip strong and firm as he shakes Vessel's hand. He lets go after a couple seconds, as is proper.

Unlike Nick.

A little more at ease, though still fraught with nerves, Vessel steps back to hide behind III, taking the others hand tightly. III is sending his pride gently down the bond as II talks over some technical stuff with Sam, making Vessel's face warm with a blush. Nick is suspiciously absent, Vessel notices, but is glad for it.

"I'll lead you to your changing room. It's more of a space sectioned off by a curtain, but I did what I could to give you guys a bit more privacy than the other bands have been afforded. Most of us have been informed you're anonymous."

As they walk, II and Sam talk about II's preferences for his drum set. Sam is eagerly taking everything in with a professional air about him, and Vessel finds himself studying the shorter man curiously. Is Sleep considering him for their Fourth?

While Vessel finds Sam to be nice enough, he knows he is not the right fit for the position.

Sam leaves them be when they reach their curtained off room, informing them they're free to wander around the festival grounds if they wish, but to make sure they keep their performers lanyards on their persons at all times.

After hefty deliberation, Vessel had decided he would use the first version of his mask, the one with the lower half of his face bared. Sleep had gifted II and III white versions of their black masks with a baser version of the runes adorning their bodies. III had excused the extra one as something they'd had made, when a mask was handed to Fore. In reality, it was a gift from Sleep before they'd left.

Holding his original mask in hand, Vessel traces over the red markings etched into it, thinking of its full faced form. It looked much like an 'S' and a 'T', Vessel realizes. Is there a chance that Sleep knew what their band's name would be? Vessel isn't sure. There are some things Sleep knows that haven't come to pass yet, and other things that elude them.

Turning his attention elsewhere, Vessel pulls a jar of paint out of his duffel bag. It's wrapped carefully, lid tight, but it gives easily under Vessel's hands.

"Two?" Vessel calls, quiet, and II pops his head up, startled.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He calls back, pocketing his phone after ending the call he had been on with their manager.

"Sleep wants us to cover ourselves with this paint, so we can show ourselves as we are when we worship Him. I was told to cover any bare skin. It may begin to fade or run if the worship is particularly strong but the container replenishes itself. Or so Sleep said, anyway."

"You're wearing just that?" II asks, III walking over to see what's going on.

Both of them stare, unashamed, at the pale expanse of Vessel's skin in full view. The hickies they left on him are stark against his human skin.

"Is it too little? I- I quite like it this way..." Vessel says, embarrassed and feeling like maybe he should put a shirt on.

"N-no! You look great! I was just surprised since you usually never forgo a shirt." II blurts out, wide eyed and unable to tear them away from Vessel, bare chested before him.

"Why have we been gifted such a view? If we had more time and some privacy..." III muses, eyeing Vessel up and down.

The cloak looks good on him, III decides, taking in the skinny jeans, bare feet and chest. III had never seen this mask on Vessel before, only half of his face covered with misshapen eye holes. Only two, which means it was Vessel's mask before he'd gotten his extra sets of eyes.

"Calm down, we've got a show to do." II rolls his eyes, gaze flitting back to the hickies on Vessel's stomach and peeking over the waistband of his jeans.

"Sleep requested it of me." Vessel says, shy, taking in the others' outfits.

II and III are both adorned with cloak-like shirts. II has a pair of track pants on, while III has on a pair on pinstriped black pants. They are both wearing their masks.

"Remind me to thank Sleep when we return." III says, without an ounce of shame.

"You all really did a number on each other." Nick says, entering their small curtained off area.

Vessel catches the look of disgust he'd shot at them, but it escapes II and III's notice since they aren't facing him.

Vessel had noticed, and grows quiet. II and III assume the attention is making Vessel more shy, and doesn't question it. III kisses his cheek before going back to his spot to continue getting ready. II does the same, having been on the call since Sam left them. Nick stays nearby, playing around on his phone, already dressed in his stage outfit with his mask in hand.

He feels eyes on him while he applies the paint over his jaw and up almost to the bridge of his nose, then down his neck and chest and over the visible skin of his arms and feet. It makes his skin crawl, knowing who is watching. The eyes follow him, now and then, when Vessel hands the paint over to II to use.

With his mask on, Vessel feels safer, like something within him has clicked into place. It's a familiar feeling, his mask bringing him comfort. Vessel wonders if it's the same for II and III.

Finding himself alone some time later, Vessel wanders aimlessly around backstage, trying not to be too bothered that II and III are busy making sure everything is in order for their respective instruments and their stage setup, Sam helping II figure out their lighting. He picks at the bandages wrapped around his arms, mostly healed scabbing beginning to itch. The other bands have greeted him kindly in passing, curious eyes following him around in his unusual attire, the attention grating on Vessel's already frayed nerves.

There is a presence, here, not quite like Sleep. Vessel has been unknowingly following it, he realizes, when it becomes so strong it nearly overshadows his anxiety. Set up right outside a bus, a tent is where Vessel is lead to, open curtained and made out of expensive material. It would strike Vessel as odd, if he were more aware.

Sleep is agitated, the whispers in the back of his mind almost deafening. He still cannot hope to decipher them.

Some sort of skull paint is the first thing Vessel takes note of, then the man's short stature. He is given no time to observe further when a man is stepping between the two of them. He is large, towering over Vessel, the dull silver of his mask doing little to muffle the growl emanating from deep within his chest. A thick tail, long and deep purple, with a spaded tip flickering with sparks of purple magic is wrapped tightly around one meaty thigh. Horns, pale lavender with speckles of differing shades of purple, easily as thick as Vessel's wrist, jut out from the top of their head through hair the color of a plum, spiraling up a few inches.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-" Vessel begins, already trying to backtrack out of the tent.

What kind of a fool was he to step into a tent that very clearly belonged to someone important? His anxiety would usually keep him well away from a situation like this. What is wrong with him? Why can he not see reason beyond the pull of this magic he is feeling?

"Omega. At ease."

Coming to the man's side (is it even a man at all?) is the short person who is emanating a tightly controlled power, something coiled into him like a snake always ready to strike. One eye is white, the other a forest green.

"It is rare to see another God's servant at a place like this. At least, one who is truly following a God. I was wondering if you would seek me out, our kind usually tries to keep up good relations."

Vessel tilts his head, taking a step back to give himself some space. His arms come to wrap around himself, hunching over as the man's power seems to clog his throat, swirling around in his lungs.

"Oh, my apologies. You're not just a servant, you're a vessel. If I'd have realized sooner, I would never have gotten so close to you with the leash on my magic so loose. I've read you sort are more sensitive to magic."

This was his magic not completely under control?

Vessel takes in a deep, unneeded breath when the cloying stench of sulfur seems to fade. "Thank you." He manages to utter, "How did you know what I was?"

"My white eye, a gift to my line from our Lord Lucifer himself. I am Papa Emeritus the Third, Terzo, at your service...?" He prompts, smirk kind as he slicks his dark black hair into place with a gloved hand.

"Vessel. First Vessel of Sleep." Vessel replies, trying to exude even an ounce of the confidence this Terzo seems to have in his pinky finger alone.

"The pleasure of meeting you is all mine, Vessel. Come, sit, you look as if you're going to be blown away by a strong breeze. Do not hunch into yourself, you're a vessel of a God. Stand tall, be proud of what you are. A vessel for such a powerful being is no easy feat."

"My apologies-" Vessel says, gingerly seating himself on the chair offered.

It's fancy, with plush backing that Vessel leans into gratefully while still trying not to take up too much space.

"There is no need for that, Vessel of Sleep. You will learn. Time has not been kind to you... so much death lingers in your soul, fresh and old alike."

Eyes wide and panicked, Vessel's mouth twists into a grimace.

"You can tell that I-?" He starts, trying to keep his bond calm, smoothing it over with images of the moments he has felt peace.

"Yes. You have died many a time. Before and After your change, your soul bears many marks of death from each."

"What-?" He murmurs, confused, struggling to wrap his mind around what this new information could mean.

Vessel moves to stands, desperate for answers. A loud growl stops him in his tracks, human eyes trying to assess the situation as his six eyes would be able to easily. The man has stepped forward too, right in front of Vessel so he can block Terzo from view.

Vessel mutters another meek apology, trying to straighten out his back as he sits back down properly. Head still bowed, he chances a glance at the horned man.

"My dear Omega here is a ghoul, quintessance in nature. A spawn from Hell itself. He will do you no harm." Terzo assures, placing a gentle hand on Omega's forearm, his growling quieter now but still present. "It is alright, calm down. Vessel means no harm. I'm sad to say it appears to be nearly time for your set, though. You must be on your way."

For the first time, Vessel checks his phone. Terzo is right, he has maybe thirty minutes until it's showtime. Feeling like a fool for having just sat down, Vessel stands again, very slowly offering up his hand to shake.

Omega takes it, watching him with serious eyes. His grip is gentle, though, as he shakes Vessel's hand. Claws longer and thicker than Vessel's are held carefully away, more animalistic than his own. They're painted a glittery purple, and when Vessel takes Terzo's hand next, he finds they're painted the same color.

Straying eyes glance nervously around, catching on the windows of Terzo's bus as Vessel leaves the tent. There are eyes already watching him, each pair glowing different shades. Blues, greens, reds, purples, whites, all pairs inlaid on heads adorned with horns, staring at Vessel through dull grey demon masks. More ghouls, he realizes, all watching him. Hurriedly, Vessel turns away, heading back in the direction of the stage they're supposed to play. Sleep nips at his heels possessively, shadows gathering at his feet.

So lost in his head and anxiety making him nauseous, Vessel doesn't notice Nick walking up to him with a particular glint in his eyes. Had he been following him? Vessel banishes the ridiculous thought.

"Hey Vessel, I was curious about something. Do you have a moment?" Nick smiles, and Vessel thinks he would be handsome if everything about him didn't rub him the wrong way.

After spending so much time together, Vessel feels terrible for the thought. Nick has never been truly unkind, only blunt, or perhaps filterless in what he says. Vessel... he has never given Nick a chance. Maybe it's time? They are in a band together, after all, while Sleep decides on a Fourth.

"The guitar in When The Branch Breaks-"

"It's, um, Bough. When The Bough Breaks." Vessel offers meekly, apologetic when Nick's gaze seems to sharpen.

He smiles with a little more teeth, "Sorry, the guitar in When the Bough Breaks? I was wondering if I could change a part when the breakdown hits so it sounds better?"

Hurt stings Vessel's chest as though his heart still resided within it. II and III brush along the bond in question, and Vessel sends back muted reassurance, squirelling away his hurt from their distracted attention.

Nick didn't like something Vessel wrote? Something he poured his soul into when his heart was no longer truly his to give? Music born of Vessel's anguish as a gift of devotion to his god?

Vessel frowns, unsure and near tears, "Ah, I don't think that's-"

Vessel shies away as Nick's smile falters, voice growing weaker even as Vessel tries to remain firm, "The songs are meant to be played as they've been written. Please, don't change anything."

"Damn. If you say so. I really think it would sound better if you'd let me tweak some things, but you are the frontman. What you say goes." Nick practically sneers, and Vessel wishes the earth would open up and swallow him.

Nick inches closer, getting all up in Vessel's space. He's staring intently, eyeing Vessel up and down with a look Vessel hasn't been subject to in... well, since Before Sleep. One arm comes to wrap around Vessel's shoulder, and he is thankful, suddenly, for the mesh over the eye holes of his mask that hides the discomfort in his wet eyes. He tries to control the creasing of his face with the emotion, but isn't sure he manages. Doesn't know why he even tries when so much of himself is hidden away under magic and mask.

Hunching down into himself as Nick applies more pressure, Vessel tries to shove away his discomfort. Nick is only being friendly. The fear creeping up his spine is unfounded, yet he cannot stop it.

There's a tugging on the bond from III's end again, questioning in nature, and relief fills Vessel. He tugs back, hoping it would lead III in his direction to save him from this conversation.

"Are you all in an open polycule relationship?" Nick asks, and Vessel startles.

He turns the mishappen eyes of his mask on him, confused, avoiding meeting his eyes out of instinct. The hand on his shoulder grips tighter, more and more as their conversation continues, and Vessel tries to squirm away.

Nails dig in, and Vessel stops. Nick's smile is back, a sharp edge to it, and Vessel forces his mind to focus on the question so he doesn't get lost in the predatory gleam of Nick's teeth.

An open polycule? Vessel... has no idea what that means.

He tries to think on it. Would the relationship be considered open if they were waiting for their Fourth to be chosen? Assuming the Fourth would be interested in a romantic relationship, that is.

Does the label 'polycule' apply to the vessels relationship?

"Yes?" Vessel responds, gaze flitting around desperately, catching on Sam who is making his way over in a rush.

Nick smiles, one side lifting up a little more then the other so it comes across as more of a smirk. "So, the others wouldn't mind then if-"

"Vessel! You're on soon, Two asked me to come find you both. Can you call Three and let him know you're heading back? He looked pretty worried." Sam says, jogging up to them.

"I'll do that, thanks." Vessel replies, no more than a whisper, but makes sure his next words are louder, "Three uses he/they pronouns."

Vessel digs his phone out of his pocket, thankful for the disruption. Being alone with Nick had made him nervous, mounting stress added on to an already egregious pile of anxiety.

Nick let's him go, and Vessel steps away quickly.

"Oh, shit, my bad. They didn't tell me." Sam eyes the both of them, intelligent gaze scanning over Vessel's hunched posture, and the happy smile on Nick's face.

"Everything alright?" He asks, as Vessel starts to call III.

They pick up right away, asking where he is, and Vessel smiles, relieved to hear their voice.

"Got a little lost, I'm sorry. I'm heading back towards the dressing room area now."

As he walks away, Vessel doesn't miss how Nick grins at Sam, exuding friendliness, "All good here, mate, Vessel and I were just chatting about one of his songs."

Vessel is left more weary of Nick than before, and struggling with the different image he presents when it's just the two of them compared to when they're around other people.

III is speed walking towards him when Vessel looks up from the ground, feeling the tether connecting their souls grow tighter with the distance between them closing.

"Ves!" III exclaims, gentle hands on his shoulders pulling Vessel close while leaving space between them.

It's as close to a hug as Vessel will allow, and III would never complain about Vessel's few self-imposed boundaries. Vessel tactfully hides his wince of pain. He hadn't realized Nick had been holding his shoulder tightly enough for there to still be a lingering soreness.

III nuzzles the side of Vessel's head, avoiding his mask. The kiss he places on Vessel's head is muted with his cloaks hood being in the way alongside III's own mask, but he doesn't mind, not with III so close.

"You don't usually wander off. When II and I noticed you'd disappeared, we got worried. Remember, Sugar, we're supposed to protect you while we're away from home."

Vessel frowns, sincerely apologetic, "I didn't want to be in the way. I was... talking with Nick when Sam came to us."

"Oh, I'm glad he was with you then. Even if he's not in the loop about our situation, at least you weren't alone. Come on, our set starts soon. Where is Nick, anyway?"

III's hand is warm in his as they lead him back in the direction of the stage. There's a slight sting in Vessel's shoulder where Nick's hand had been, but Vessel ignores it with ease. He fears it may bruise, though, fears having to lie to the others about how he got it.

"He should be following along soon. He was talking with Sam."

III is calmer than usual, Vessel notices, like they are reeling in their lively personality. It makes Vessel sad, that even after time has passed with II and himself, that III still tries to hide himself away when out in public. He wasn't like this in town, when they'd went shopping what feels like so long ago. Then again, III had grown up there even if the only thing left he could remember in clarity was the bad things.

"You- You do not need to keep parts of yourself locked away, Three." Vessel mutters, squeezing III's hand.

It causes III to pause, turning to Vessel. Only the beautiful sky blue of his eyes are visible, a little wide in surprise, "You... noticed?"

"Of course I noticed." Vessel responds, saddened by the way III's voice breaks with their words.

"I grew up wanting attention. I craved it, desperately. I wanted to be looked at, to be seen and heard. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. But... when I was there, in that big building filled with so many other kids... I learned it was best to be quiet and obedient. The families always wanted well behaved kids... I kept my true self locked in a box until I left the adoption home."

III's admission only saddens Vessel further, not realizing III had been keeping something like this from them. Vessel had always assumed III's brief mention of his time at an adoption home was brushed over because it wasn't bad, but...

"Do not hide yourself from II and I. You do not need to. We- We love you as you are." Vessel does not miss the way III's eyes widen at his own use of the 'L' word without prompting, even if it was a little indirect.

Tears are threatening to spill over III's eyes when they choke out a response, "I know. I knew from the moment I saw you both in that bookshop I worked at and you were so kind, accepted me as I was... I knew I was meant for you both, and you for me. I... I knew I'd finally found what I had been searching for all my life."

"I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. Not ever. Not even if I had the chance to- To have been adopted by a family. Even if someone had wanted me. None of that matters now that I have this life, with you, Two, and Sleep."

"I feel the same way." Vessel says, leaning forward to press his masked forehead to III's.

Gentle hands reach up, daring to wipe away III's unshed tears, selfishly taking enjoyment from the way III leans into the touch without a second thought.

"Even after all you went through?"

"I would suffer through my life Before a million times over if it meant I could still be with you both After."

Vessel means it. Every attempt on his own life, every bruise and scratch, every harsh word. The loneliness as a child, the desperation to be looked at, to be seen, heard. To be listened to, believed...

Believed...?

Vessel pulls away from III slightly, confused at the sudden thought. What... did Vessel tell his parents that they never believed? He can't remember. Why can't he remember?

"Sugar?" III asks, concerned.

"I'm fine." Vessel decides, "Just... I remember less than I thought I did."

"Oh, well... We should probably get to side stage." III smiles, sensing that Vessel doesn't want to think on it any further.

Moving on so easily is met with gratitude, Vessel very gently pressing his mask to III's forehead for just a second, pulling away again.

"I'm nervous, Three. What if I can't sing?" His voice is a murmur, as weak and shaky as he has felt since they'd left the manor.

He doesn't know if it's his anxiety or being so far away from his heart.

"You'll do fine! This will be different to practice, I know, but Sleep will be more involved. And if you need to, you can spend as long as you want after our set as quiet as you need."

"You won't be mad?"

"Of course not!" III says, knocking his forehead against Vessel's playfully.

"Alright. Let's go." Vessel manages, still anxiety riddled but more ready to face this.

II meets them at the side of the stage, nervously tapping his drumsticks on his thighs before he notices their duo walking up. "Ves!" II launches himself at Vessel, making an aborted move to hug him.

Vessel wishes he could allow it.

"I'm fine, Two." Vessel says, reaching forward and gently holding II's wrists.

"I see that, but I was worried. I'm glad you're okay. Show starts soon. Only have about ten minutes til we go on." II frets, his stress over all of this clear.

They all huddle around each other, getting their in-ears put in and their instruments, if they have them, checked out one last time. Nick appears two minutes before they start, II immediately berating him for not showing up sooner. Nick says he got lost, slinging his guitar over his shoulders.

Vessel feels it is a lie.

In that split second before they step onto the festival stage, a vision is gifted. Before each of the three vessels of Sleep is a small venue packed full to the brim with people. Vessel is mid dance, a wild mess of steps that move to the beat of II's drumming as III spins and twirls beside him.

A blurred out fourth man sways to the music on Vessel's left, not an inch of them in any sort of clarity. There's a fear in the back of Vessel's mind that it is Nick, but the features are so unfocused that he couldn't possibly tell.

That first step onto the stage is one of the most daunting things Vessel has ever done. Every one after feels like a leaden weight is attached to his ankles as his anxiety runs wild. II and III are steady presences with him, moving to their places.

Vessel bites his lip when Nick's hand glances over his lower back as he passes, gaze averting down to the floor as he makes his way to the microphone stand in the middle of the stage.

The mesh over his eyes is thick, just barely managing to hide the crimson glow of Vessel's eyes that not even Sleep's magic could properly camouflage. Not when Vessel was in front of a crowd, the music he and II have written the only sound soon to be heard in the small tent. Not when he could feel Sleep lingering at the edge of his awareness, waiting for Vessel's ritual to begin.

Can the crowd see through the glamor? Do they know something not quite human stands before them?

Do they know that he doesn't belong on this stage?

In the crowd, Terzo Emeritus stands, Omega at his side. Vessel's straightens up a little bit, feeling as though he should try a little harder to act as important as his title suggests. Even if he doesn't feel worthy of it.

As the first notes of Thread the Needle begin, Vessel is aware of everything. The multitude of eyes on him, the tightness of his bandages, and the stiffness in his limbs as he struggles to calm his racing mind. Then, Sleep's magic is filling him up, shoving his humanity to the side as he becomes his God, or does his God become him? So much power, too much, is flowing through his veins and Vessel cannot grasp it. It's like trying to use a log to stop the flow of a raging river. He cannot hope to control it, the feeling nothing like when he had manifested his God's own gaping maw on his chest. He had been used, then, but it felt less invasive than this, as Sleep readied to gather the energy from the vessels subsequent worship.

His chest aches, ribcage expanding and contracting with every heavy breath, bruising under the power of his God taking up space where his heart should be.

He hurts, but does not have time to think on it, as Vessel opens his mouth and begins to sing. His voice is his own, but there is... something- Sleep wrapped around his vocal chords.

Vessel feels caught, tangled up in his God's magic as he tries to find the thin crack of where his God begins and he ends. The sudden noise of Sleep's voices are a thunderclap in his head, and Vessel stumbles with the onslaught.

III makes an aborted movement to catch him, giving Vessel space when a hand is held up, not by his own will but by Sleep's. He sings, and he does not falter, not even as he continues to stumble, as he cries. His tears drip down his face with sweat, something Vessel didn't even know he could do anymore, as his form strains under the magic burrowing it's way into every vein, encasing his muscles with electricity that keeps him standing. Even his bone marrow is replaced with every bit of Sleep that the God can fit within him, a content sound almost like a purr booming through his head as Vessel's dear God takes in the enraptured energy of the crowd before them.

Vessel can feel them, feel the echo of their souls as his own resonates with them. Their pain becomes his, and his becomes theirs.

Vessel is nothing more than his name suggests, a vessel for humanities endless sea of emotions while his God takes what He needs to survive, to grow stronger.

These people need something to project their pain onto, and Vessel needs some way to release his agonies. This mask protects them from Vessel, and Vessel from them. Some small part of him wonders if he is protecting them from Sleep, the mere notion banished before it can take form. Was it he who swiped it away or was it his God?

Either way, they do not know him. He does not know them.

But everyone knows pain.

Tears slip down his cheeks, crystal clear as they drip off his jaw. Tears of pain, of agony.

Of longing. Heartbreak. Love. Devotion.

The crowd grows, bit by bit, as more and more people enter the tent to listen. Then, they stay to worship. They do not know who they are worshipping, not even that they are partaking in a ritual at all, but Sleep feeds off their presences anyway, because they are listening to the messages being spread by His First, by His Second and Third. Listening, feeling, resonating with the vessels and their God.

With every newcomer, more of Sleep slips in to Vessel's body, filling in any available space, rearranging his insides as the God sees fit so He will have room to rest. He stammers over a line, voice weak with pain as he cries, a rib shifting in his chest. It does not break, but it is a close thing. Sleep coo's unintelligibly, another rib shifting out of place. He whimpers into the mic, muted concern ebbing down the bond.

Agony is a constant as Vessel sings, his bond with the others muted and dull under the weight of Sleep in his body. Fields of Elation passes by in a blur, Vessel's stiff body having barely moved from the center of the stage. Even with Sleep inhabiting his body, fear keeps him still as the dead, the only sign he is alive being the movement of his mouth and the way his torso bends forward to sing certain notes, arms held out in front of him, raising up on occasion as though evoking a prayer to his God.

Everything is going smoothly, Vessel growing more and more used to the pain of sharing his suit of flesh with Sleep when a guitar chord rings out unnaturally.

His head snaps to the side, the burning crimson of his eyes locked on Nick. His fingers falter over the keys of his electric keyboard, limbs seizing as he struggles to keep upright. Raging fire burns hotly through his system, a pained hiss just barely buzzing through the microphone.

Those were not the chords he'd written.

The vessels muted bond, buried under Sleep's overwhelming presence, snaps into focus for all three vessels. Agony tears through them, Vessel's own pain seeming to double as the ritual is disrupted.

As one, II, III and Vessel miss their parts, undergoing extreme pressure in their heads as Sleep rages, whispers becoming screams as His voices become all they can hear. It is all Vessel can do in that moment to keep Sleep from making Nick a smear against the stage floor.

A chanting plea of 'it's not his fault. It was a mistake.' resounds through his head, desperate for his lie to be believed.

Each note that differs from what he'd written seems to thrum down Vessel's spine, fingers twitching with each one so badly that he almost misses his own keys more than once.

Nick goes on to play the proper chords once his stint of rebellion is through, not realizing how close he has stumbled to death's door, and Sleep eases up as the ritual begins again.

Vessel moves back to the front of the small stage, a mere puppet for Sleep's will while he tries to find a balance between the two of them in his own body.

III reaches out, a hand taking his own while Vessel sings. Vessel moves further towards them- No. Why is Sleep pulling away? Vessel craves the touch as though it's water and he is dying of thirst, and yet Sleep seems opposed to it, shivers crawling up Vessel's spine.

The look of confusion in III's eyes breaks Vessel's heart-

His... his heart?

His heart is beating. It's pounding in his ears at the realization, warming his body up in a way he's not felt since Before.

Vessel wants to move closer, wants to wrap himself around III, who is so close on this tiny stage. They would be warm, Vessel knows, pressed right up against his own body. Vessel wants that. Wants to struggle to tell where III begins and Vessel ends. He yearns to he held.

He yearns. He yearns. He yearns-

Before Vessel knows it, their short set is over. His body moves, some control given back to him as Sleep eases up some more, content, and Vessel kneels in the middle of the small stage. His hands clasping together tightly, as he bows at the waist, thanking the crowd.

There are whistles and cheers, leaving a sense of awe within him. They enjoyed his music? Vessel stands, and makes his way to the side of the stage. His adrenaline starts crashing as soon as they step off stage, stumbling into III with no warning. "Woah, Ves! Are you okay?"

He cries more tears streaking down his cheeks. Sleep is leaving him, a vaccuum has opened up behind his ribs, magic being sucked in. He is left feeling as though he was wrung out, not an ounce of energy left within him.

His heartbeat fades, and a hand comes to frantically feel over his chest. The touch hurts, but he doesn't care, not when his heart is once more no longer with him. Vessel forces himself away from III, but they don't let him go far.

"'M fine. Tired." Even answering so tersely sends stinging slices of hurt through his empty chest.

He wants to sob. Vessel only wanted to be held, and he can't- he can't be. He can't be. Sleep took his heart with Him, and Vessel is empty-

III keeps one arm wrapped around Vessel's shoulder as II frets, following alongside them. Nick follows too, and Vessel wishes the other man would leave them be for just a moment.

Vessel is thankful their set was so short. It was a miracle they'd been given the opportunity at all, when they have yet to actually release any songs, even if that would be changing very soon with the release of their first EP within the next few days.

Sam meets them at their small dressing room area, a concerned furrow to his brow that surprises the vessels. "What happened out there? Everything seemed to be going fine, wonderfully even, until your guitarist seemed to fuck up."

II responds, keeping his voice level even as he longs to push Sam aside to get Vessel into some semblance of a private space, "Four made a mistake is all. Messed all of us up. We might not have practiced enough."

Sam turns skeptical eyes on Nick, then slides them to III who is now practically lugging Vessel along, "Alright then. Make sure your singer gets some rest. It looks like he needs it. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, call me, and I'll see what I can do. You put on a great show, considering this is your first."

As soon as Sam is gone, II and III are setting Vessel down on a nearby lawn chair. He goes down heavily, legs giving out from under him.

Nick is watching him, glaring fiercely as though his eyes alone could set Vessel ablaze, foot tapping rapidly in irritation. Vessel is glad II and III have formed some mimicry of a barrier between them.

"Ves, what's happened? What hurts?" II questions, kneeling in front of him.

III lingers beside the chair, unsure what to do with their hands.

"Chest hurts. Ribs."

"Can you take off your cloak, sweetheart? I'd like to see if I can spot anything wrong. Is this from-"

The curtain is shoved to the side unceremoniously, Terzo entering as if he owned this small sectioned off area.

"Who the fuck are you?" II spits, moving to stand.

"Holy shit." III exclaims at the same time, eyes wide in shock and awe. "You're- Holy shit."

"It's okay Two." Vessel chokes out, thankful that Terzo's magic is well under the other man's control.

Terzo glances around at the three vessels, then to Nick, who is trying and failing to hide his irritation. His white eye is very faintly glowing, something that could easily be considered a trick of the light.

"Alpha, show this young man to the refreshment tent, will you? He's looking a little pale."

Terzo's command cuts through the air, a ghoul entering through the curtain with no hesitation. Nick is physically manhandled out of the area, protests falling on deaf ears as kind but dry greetings are made by the ghoul with a slightly slighter build than Omega from earlier.

"There are three of you. How unusual. God's do not usually pick more than one mouthpiece, one vessel. Explain to me what happened out there, Vessel, if you would."

II readies himself to refuse on Vessel's behalf, but to his surprise, Vessel begins to speak. The words are quiet, stilted and pained, but he manages.

"Sleep filled my chest with his presence, like he and I had become one but I was more Him than me. It hurt, and my ribs burned like something too small for my body had fitted itself inside." Vessel explains, just as quiet, ashamed he couldn't handle his God's presence in his body better.

He was the First, he was supposed to be better than this. He could manifest his God on the outside of his body just fine, why was this any different?

"Was worse when Nick messed up. Thought Sleep was going to tear me apart for the disrespect." Vessel admits, glancing up at Terzo.

"I'm impressed you are still awake and talking, especially since this seems to be your first proper ritual. I'd assume you'd be out of commission for a few days. While I call on my God's power, you become it, share in the magic as the one soulbonded in the way you are. Regardless, it was not you your God would have torn apart." Terzo comments knowingly, watching Vessel closely.

He averts his gaze to the floor, desperate to avoid this entire thing. Does Terzo know he is covering for Nick? Does he know that Vessel's heart-

"That guitarist of yours, he is not one of you, yes?"

"Nick isn't one of us, no. Sleep has yet to choose a Fourth. Why are you asking?" II speaks up, barely sparing Terzo more than a glance, far too focused on making sure Vessel is alright.

"I see. Give me one moment, I need to call my brother. He's more knowledgeable on this sort of thing than I." Terzo pulls out his phone, and while it rings, there's an awkward silence.

Vessel shakes, pained huffs falling from parted lips while he tries to muffle just how terribly he aches through the bond. II holds his hand, trying to soothe with gentle circles into his palm, "How do I help you, sweetheart?"

"Can't. You can't." Vessel gasps out, letting a few tears slip free.

Clutching II's hand like a lifeline, Vessel leans over despite the pain and rests his head on II's shoulder.

His mask digs into his own face, and he knows it must not be comfortable for II either but he cannot bring himself to pull away.

Terzo talks quietly in Italian, and Vessel doesn't have the energy within him to be confused. What is being said that cannot be uttered in a language everyone here can speak?

"Keep your guitarist from making mistakes in the future, if you can. He is not a vessel for your God, so his mistakes damage all of you, as you likely felt. He is not properly partaking in your rituals, and so is the biggest cause and concern for errors. Mistakes at your own hands can be overlooked and spun in ways that will not hurt the energy you and your God are receiving." Terzo says, hanging up the call.

"Who are you?" II asks again, more curious now than defensive.

"I am Terzo, your First met me earlier today. I'm the mouthpiece, so to speak, for Lucifer, and the Third Papa of the Clergy of Satan. I don't particularly care for the job though, aside from the musical aspect. I am the current singer for the Ghost project."

"Now," Terzo lightly claps his hands, though Vessel still flinches back harshly, "Omega, my dear, come check on Vessel here for any injuries. His magic is still struggling to settle."

Omega enters through the curtain next, taller than III, with a large frame. Momentarily, III's intimidating figure seems cowed under the weight of Omega's presence, before steel is lined along III's spine once more.

"While I know who you are, do not dare hurt him." III states firmly, moving past their starstruck state.

No matter how much III loves Ghost, he could easily snip that love in the bud should they prove to be a danger to his partners.

"Move aside." Omega orders, and now it is II's turn to bristle, squinting hesitantly up at the ghoul.

II blinks, trying to focus on the man before him, "No-"

"Two, it's okay." Vessel murmurs, slouching into himself a little further as he lifts his head from II's shoulder.

His little breaths are harsher now, uneven and deep.

"Rest assured, little vessel, no harm will come to him at my hands." Omega reassures, voice soothing and layered with a bit of his quintessance.

II bristles at being called little, a confusing mix of assured and annoyed. He scoots aside reluctantly, both he and III remaining on either side of the chair Vessel sits in.

Omega kneels at Vessel's feet, "I'm going to feel along your ribs to check for any breaks. I will not touch you more than necessary, your cloak may remain on."

The first careful touch of a clawed finger over where Vessel's heart should be has Vessel shooting back into his seat, scrambling to move away.

III is immediately trying to put themselves between Omega and Vessel, a snarl pulling at his lips under their mask. II has kneeled back down, too, soothingly gripping at Vessel's hand with one of his own, the other petting along Vessel's bandaged forearm unsurely.

Long spider limbs form as III grows a few inches taller, both his legs and arms spindly as one hand is held dangerously close to Omega's face, claws pointed at the ghoul's eyes in a clear threat.

Omega pauses, head tilting as he regards III with heavy consideration.

"Do not harm my ghoul-" Terzo starts, a thunderous expression on his face as the smell of sulfur grows strong and overpowering.

Vessel whimpers, his own magic reacting to Terzo's uncomfortably.

"I will only touch him as necessary." Omega reassures again, and let's his head fall forward from its tilt back as III lowers their arm.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vessel forces his body to still, forces his muscles to relax. III moves aside, but his sneer remains, softening into something almost akin to a frown. Omega takes this as his que to continue while III gets their spider limbs under control.

The scent of sulfur fades, and Vessel breathes in and out, trying to mimic human breathing. At the same time, he is loudly begging Sleep in his mind to keep this ghoul unaware of his lack of heartbeat. It is a constant mantra through every gentle touch, every soft apology, as Vessel tries to shove down the ache in his body. He cannot be so pathetic. He needs to get used to this. This is not the first and only time Sleep will be using him this way. He feels... disconnected from himself, as Omega talks lowly, making sure Vessel knows what he's doing at all times. Usually, such a gentle voice would help ground him into his own body, but this is a stranger, and he is so tired... Vessel feels his mind slipping away, vision unfocusing with every passing moment.

"Vessel?" II asks, alarmed, as the bond grows distant with every spark of purple magic glancing across Vessel's skin. "What the fuck are you you doing to him?!"

"It is only my magic feeling around inside him for damage, I swear I am not hurting him. He will be fine, though. Make sure he rests, once his disassociation ends." Omega states, stepping away, "I have sped up the healing process on his physical wounds. Most were nearly healed, but the one on his shoulder is new enough that no real difference will show. It should be gone within a couple of days."

II and III share a confused glance. Vessel had gotten hurt? He was... disassociating?

"Thank you, Omega dear. Now, one of you, give me Vessel's phone. I'd imagine he will have questions, and I will be happy to answer what I can." Terzo says, swiping Vessel's phone from III, who offers it up reluctantly.

Vessel's phone pings with a text when Terzo hands it back to III. It is pocketed without a glance at the message sent, and Vessel will be grateful for III to have mentioned that when he returns to his body.

"It is time I leave. Our own set is nearing, but I'm glad I made time to come here. Watch your First closely, disassociation is a very vulnerable state for a god's vessel to fall into when so far from their God's resting place." Terzo calls Omega back to his side, and the ghoul goes without question, standing close.

Nearly hip to hip, even. II spares them no further attention, uncaring as they make their exit. III see's them off at the curtain, a little subdued in his pleasantries. Nick comes back in a few minutes later, irritation still present on his face. III looks up at him with a tired smile, phone opened to a page on how to help someone who is disassociating.

"You've got to stop being so sensitive to everything, man. You're an adult, act like one." Fore spits at Vessel, frustration coloring his tone like an oil spill.

Vessel starts slipping away again at the words, and II and III can feel it, feel him floating away from them.

II turns around and snaps, "No, you need to stop being insensitive! You don't know what the fuck he's been through. Gain some emotional maturity or shut the fuck up."

Fore looks surprised at II's words, a nervous smile beginning to pull at his cheeks. His hands raise up in a show of peace, "Hey, I'm sorry. I went too far. Today's been nerve-wracking. Not to mention that dude dragging me off without warning."

"Don't apologize to us, apologize to Vessel when he comes back from this." III's voice is cold, and it pisses Fore off.

He keeps it well under wraps, but he cannot stop the tremble in his hands, curling them into fists at his sides. Why do they protect that pathetic excuse for a man? What do they see in him that makes all of his failures as a human being so easy to overlook?

"What was that earlier, by the way?" III's voice is just as icy, though some inquiring warmth peeks through. "You fucked up one part of When The Bough Breaks."

III intentionally leaves out how the mistake had left all three of them reeling, struggling to play or sing their parts through the agony and Sleep's rage.

"I messed up. The crowd really had me anxious. I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to."

If Vessel were present enough to speak, if he could bring himself back down to Earth just enough to open his mouth and respond, he would tell the others how Nick was lying through his teeth.

Or would he? Would he have the courage to speak so boldly?

"Try not to do it again. All of us do our damn best not to make mistakes. That's what all the practice was for. This music is important to us." III responds, turning back to their phone to continue searching up ways to help Vessel.

"I'm going to go start packing things up." Nick comments, annoyed when he is barely given any attention.

"I'll be there in a few minutes to help." II remarks, scrounging up some attempt at a friendly look.

Nick stalks out, smile tight on his lips, fists clenching at his sides.

"It's a trauma response," III starts, trying to keep their voice quiet while II tenderly removes Vessel's mask, "Like when he goes non-verbal. We should try grounding him. The website says putting something in his hands and trying to get him to describe it may help."

"Let's use his mask, since it's on hand." II says, carefully placing the mask into Vessel's hands once he manages to pull them apart from their half-fisted state.

"Vessel, sweetheart, can you describe to me what's in your hands?" II asks, soft eyes shiny with worry.

For a few long, silent moments, Vessel does not answer. III tries not to tap his foot, fiddling instead with his own mask that he has torn off.

Then, quietly, no more than a gentle whisper, "Solid. Smooth."

Fingers trace over the red lines along the mask, "An 's', a 't.' For our band name."

Vessel's bond comes more into focus, his mind losing some of the fog that settled over it. Tentatively, a hand comes to rest over II's, holding onto Vessel's forearm.

"I'm sorry." Vessel meekly murmurs, voice hoarse and thick with tears.

He still doesn't feel all here, but he knows without a doubt that II and III haven't left him. He leans over, one hand holding his mask on his lap and the other leaving II's to wrap around the man himself. It's not quite a hug, but it will have to be considered one.

II presses a kiss to Vessel's forehead as III's own forehead presses right above where Vessel's shoulder blades meet as they hold him.

"It's not your fault, Ves. You're okay. You're disassociating, and it's not your fault."

Vessel has never had anyone... help him through the episodes, never had a name for the way his mind floats out of his body.

He holds on to II tighter, face pressing into the other man's shoulder. Tears wet the fabric of II's shirt, harsh, wheezing breaths leaving Vessel's parted lips. II let's him cry, never growing annoyed with him for not being able to control or hide his emotions better.

Safe in his lovers arms, Vessel feels his mind return, slowly. They do not rush him, do not berate him for taking too much time getting his head in order.

They do not hit him when it takes a little longer to formulate responses to their gentle questions.

When Vessel is calmer and fully back to his usual self, none of them have pulled away from the others, content to stay close. II takes the chance to bring up something he had been planning for the last few days.

"I was going to take you and Three on a date to the aquarium nearby, but if you're not feeling up to it, Ves, that's perfectly understandable."

Vessel's tired form seems to perk up, blue eyes lighting up as he peeks up at II, "An aquarium? We're going to an aquarium?"

"I have plans to go tomorrow, sweetheart, but- Are you feeling well enough to go?"

"I'll be fine if I can manage to sleep a little bit." Vessel promises, eager to not let this chance slip by him.

"Alright, alright, we'll still go. But if I think you're too tired or out of it tomorrow, we can reschedule for a different day." II agrees, grinning when III looks happier too, like their dream from last night has finally left them.

"Aren't aquariums expensive?" III inquires suddenly, clearly having forgotten the credit card in II's wallet.

"Sleep gave us a credit card, remember?" II responds dryly.

"Oh. Yeah. So, uh, does that make Sleep our sugar daddy?"

"Three!" II gasps, affronted, though the amused smirk on his face is telling enough of what he really thinks of that statement.

"You're not denying it so I'm right." III sticks up their nose primly.

Vessel giggles once, twice, before it turns into quiet laughter. "What even is a sugar daddy?"

"Sleep." III responds, entirely serious.

They let loose a laugh when II flicks the side of their head, moaning jokingly about how cruel II was to them.

::

Reassured that III has Vessel, and finally finished packing everything up, II tries to find a moment to himself. Trembling hands clutch the fabric of his jeans, trying to even out the quickening pace of their breathing. Footsteps reach II's ears, and he looks up through eyes blurring with tears.

"Hey, Two, I just wanted to say I really am so- Shit, dude, are you okay?" It's Nick, walking up to II and looking genuinely apologetic, though it shifts quickly into surprised concern at the sight of II's downtrodden expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed by the day we've had. Was there something you needed?" II turns icy blue eyes on Nick, forcing their gazes to meet and hold.

"I just wanted to apologize again. I guess the stress of the day got to me, and I said some things I didn't mean."

"Well, I appreciate the second apology, though it wasn't needed. Vessel's the one you should say sorry to." II releases his hands from his jeans, unnecessarily patting the fabric of dust.

"I'll do that before we head out, I swear. Did- Do you want a smoke? You seem pretty shaken up and a cigarette helps my nerves." Nick offers with an easy grin, holding out an open pack of cigarettes with the butt end of a stick already half out of the carton.

A lighter is flicked open and closed with a click in his other hand, and II oddly feels the urge to agree. He faintly remembers he used to smoke, Before. It was a bad habit that died with him and the addiction cleansed from his system upon his rebirth. II never even thought of picking it up again, never even spared the deathsticks a passing thought.

Now, he is tempted.

Trembling fingers reach out and take one of the cigarettes, and then the lighter offered up after.

Nick's grin grows impossibly wider as II cups a hand around the flame to keep it safe from a potential breeze, lighting the cigarette with a long forgotten, yet still practiced, ease. A pleased hum is exhaled around a waft of smoke as Nick watches II like a cat who has caught a mouse.

"So, are you and the others in an open relationship? You're a polycule, right?" Nick asks, once II has taken a long, long drag and is letting it out.

II turns the hard ice of his eyes on Nick, searching, suspicious, before it slides away like snow off a slope.

"No. We're not open. If someone else comes along that we want to add, we'll speak on it." II takes another drag, passing the lighter back to Nick, moving to correct him, "But we're in a polyamorous relationship. All dating each other. We're not a polycule."

Nick's smile gets impossibly wider, suspicions confirmed. So Vessel has no fucking clue what they are. Too much of a little wimp to clarify either, huh? Poor fool probably knows it's only a matter of time until these guys leave him in the dust for someone better.

"Oh, I see. Didn't realize I had the wrong terms."

"It's alright. Most don't care to learn them." II smiles, calmer now, bringing his phone out when he receives a text alert.

One side of his lips quirk up into a genuine smile when he see's it's III, asking where he is. Shooting off a text saying that he and Nick had just finished packing up, II straightens up.

II snuffs out his cigarette under his heel, picking it up once he's sure all the embers are out. Tossing it in a nearby trashcan, he turns back to Nick, "Thanks for the smoke. I'm going to get the others if you don't mind meeting us at the car."

"Oh, it's no problem. Heading home?"

"No, to a hotel. We're staying another day. I've got a date planned for us tomorrow. You're welcome to hang around the hotel or go out and explore. We won't be leaving until late tomorrow. I hope that doesn't mess up any plans you had."

"Nah, it's fine." Nick reassures graciously, "I took a few days off work for this festival gig."

II nods, giving one last smile before he sets off to find the others.

Vessel's tired smile falters as II gets close enough for the other to smell him properly, some negative emotion rearing it's head that Vessel stomps out before II can catch it. He can't quite stop the instinctual wrinkle of his nose. III does not bother to hide the grimace as he pulls Vessel closer, "You smell like shit."

Guilt fills II up to the brim, "Sorry, Four offered me a smoke. Made me feel better at the time but- It's a habit I know should stay dead."

"It made you feel better?" Vessel asks, quiet and unable to meet II's eyes.

II frowns, his guilt growing, not liking how Vessel seems quite ready to accept his bad habit even if it clearly makes him uncomfortable, "Yeah, but I won't do it again. It was a one time thing, I swear."

"If it made you feel better-" Vessel starts, III cutting him off with a hurried apology, "I know we're no longer human but that shit isn't good for your lungs. It may not kill you as quickly, or at all since we're vessels now, but- I still think you should lay off it."

"I will. I'm sorry." II apologizes again, guilty. "I don't want to get into the habit again, I swear."

"Please try not to. I hate cigarettes." III mutters, reaching for II to pull him into a hug.

"We've been apart so much today, I fucking hate it. Reminds me of last time." III says into II's ears, voice lowered enough so it doesn't hurt II's ears.

"We can protect ourselves this time." II replies, letting some of his weight fall into III, knowing the other can and will gladly hold him up.

Vessel watches, a little uncertain of what to do, his whole face lighting up under his mask when II and III both offer their hands for him to hold while the other two hug. All three wish Vessel would join it, but know it's not to be.

"I love you both. We did well today." II murmurs, bringing Vessel's hand up to kiss his black painted knuckles.

"Well, of course I did well. I made damn sure I knew my parts well enough that I could add some flair to my moves." III simpers, grinning widely under his mask.

"Looked like a ballerina with the way you were spinning and kicking." Vessel mumbles, smiling, too.

"Why, thank you. I'm considering that a compliment of the highest degree. Vessel sang like a siren personified."

Vessel blushes, thankful for the mask that hides it, as he stumbles over his own gratitude.

"We'll have to be careful in the future, though. The only time I missed a beat was when Nick made a mistake and it hurt all of us." II says, a little condescending in tone.

"We'll ask him to come over for practice more." III promises, nudging Vessel's head with their own gently when a spark of distaste fizzles along the bond.

Sighing, II nods, pulling away. "Alright, enough idling about. We've got stuff to grab. Nick's waiting at the car."

A short while later, Sam stops the vessels as they're gathering the last of their stuff from the area he had curtained off for them. Few festival staff members are around, most of them too busy to pay them any mind as the festival itself continues.

"That whole gimmick you all have going on isn't just for show, is it? You really believe a God brought you all together." Sam states, and Vessel flounders for a response.

III starts laughing, turning away to try and hide it with a hand but their shoulders still noticeably shake.

II and Vessel share a glance, the taller of the two tilting his head just so the side in question. Sleep whispers unintelligibly somewhere nearby, and Vessel glances around, tired human eyes landing on the shadows behind Sam's feet. They flicker strangely, brief glimpses of eyeballs appearing now and then. Vessel finds his answer, then, deciding that if Sleep lingers so freely around Sam, then it must be alright to tell him. He turns his gaze back to II, who is watching him intently, and III who has managed to contain himself and is now glancing between the other two vessels and Sam.

Vessel nods, and II returns it, turning back to Sam with a steely expression, "Yes, it is all real. Sleep has made us all vessels for his power. It's our divine duty to bring him more worshippers, as His three vessels."

Sam looks between all of them, a little disbelieving.

"Show me."

"Three, drop some part of your glamor."

"Wh- Two, is that a good idea?" III flounders, eyebrows almost at their hairline.

II turns tired blue eyes to III, smirking as his gaze then goes back to Sam. "Who will believe him if he tells?"

Sighing in mock exasperation, III does as told. His glamor falls away to reveal black sclera and blue, blue eyes. Any bared skin is now revealed to be covered in pitch black ink, Sleep's markings on display over his arms and peeking over the waistband of their jeans.

"Holy shit."

Vessel watches as Sam's eyes go wide, a hint of excitement breaking through the disbelief. "That is so cool! You weren't kidding, and I was right. You've got to tell me more!"

It turns out that Sam lives in the same city as they do, just on the other end of it. They set up a day for him to come over to their house, assured that he had signed the magically reinforced NDA. The five of them part, Sam to continue with the festival clean up, and the others to their hotel.

::

The hotel II has booked for them is small and quaint, with two beds, a small bathroom, and a tiny fridge. A small TV sits on an end table across from the beds, between them, playing an old sitcom on a low volume. Readying themselves for bed is a quick affair as they shower one after another to get off the paint. While Nick is in the shower, the vessels take the time to speak quietly. II asks about Terzo and Omega, mentioning that he could catch glimpses of a different form hidden under strong magic. III replies that he could see through it just fine, with the barest hints of magic at the edges like a purple mirage was following the ghoul around like an aura. Vessel admits that he is able to see through everything easily, his human eyes somehow managing to see through the magic perfectly. Everyone goes quiet when Nick emerges, continuing to get ready for bed without another word.

III falls asleep first, hidden under the covers in case their glamor falls while he sleeps. II and Vessel keep their necklaces on, assured that their glamor will remain in place. II follows III to Sleep's arms easily, the stress of the day catching up to him. He no longer smells of cigarettes, to Vessel's relief. They're all shoved onto one bed, Vessel on his side with III's back pressed flush against his. II is on the other side, III's face buried into his chest, completely hidden under the covers.

Unable to sleep, Vessel finally pulls out his phone for the first time since he had called III hours ago, before their set. There are a few notificafions for things he has no care for, but one message from an unknown number catches his eye.

When he reads it, Vessel drops his phone as though it had burned him. The lit screen lights up his wide, panicked eyes, wet with oncoming tears as he leans over the side of the bed. II and III shuffle in their sleep, both of their brows furrowing as Vessel's distress stirs in the bond. They do not wake. Nick snores from the bed across the room, on the far side of the mattress. Vessel picks his phone up, shutting off his phone entirely and shoving it under his pillow. He turns around with difficulty to bury his face over where III's head is, squeezing his eyes shut. It takes forever but Vessel does fall asleep eventually, having wet the covers with crystalline tears.

::

Unknown Number:
This is Terzo Emeritus. The taller of your band mates kindly lent me your phone when I asked. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I will be happy to answer whatever I can. Or an ear to listen if you need to talk. You're a curious thing, and I'm intrigued to see how you grow into your power with time.

Unknown Number:
It is curious that your heart was the offering your God had asked for, First and True Vessel of Sleep.