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tearful · 7 years

Text

mourn with the moon and the stars up above

title: mourn with the moon and the stars up above fandom: d gray man rating: t relationship: laven word count: 1500+ notes: back at it again with the laven. may or may not become part of a series who knows. but title is taken from “you” by keaton henson bc that is a very laven song and i cry. (read on ao3) summary:

Even years after the war has ended, it's okay to have nights where it feels like everything occurred just yesterday.

Allen stirs awake with a heavy feeling curling in his stomach. He has just woken up from a dream already fading from his mind, but the dread it caused clings fast and leaks deep into his sinew and bone. He feels sweat dripping down his neck and his hair sticking to his forehead. Not even the night breeze coming through the partially open window is enough to cool him down.

Tonight does not seem like it will be a good night. This he realizes as he takes a deep and shuddering breath that rattles his lungs between his ribcage. The scar made by his own sword is burning again, a harsh and stinging pain just like he’s being stabbed all over again. He curls tighter into himself, pressing his folding legs against his chest and pressing his eyes against his knees so hard that he sees bright lights instead of darkness. He tries to breathe through the pain as best he can, in-out-in-out, for what seems like hours until he can force himself to move without wincing from the hurt.

The bed is empty and the spot next to him has grown cold. It’s not odd, but it doesn’t make Allen feel any better about it. He can’t tell what time it is, but the moon shines through the thin curtains so he knows it’s either very late at night or early in the morning.

He unravels himself from his position, slow and careful, some bones aching from being held in an uncomfortable position for too long. When his knees pop after being properly stretched out, Allen lets out a satisfied sigh, and doesn’t think how it makes him feel older than his twenty-two years.

There’s light filtering under the door of the bathroom, and Allen knocks lightly on the aged wood. Leaning his shoulder against the frame, he speaks, “Lavi, are you okay?” he asks, voice still rough with sleep. He’s tired but rest is now an elusive and far off friend. If Lavi is awake he’d rather be up with him. “Can I come in.”

The reply doesn’t come immediately, but it isn’t too long a wait for Allen to get properly worried. “Yeah, it’s unlocked.” Lavi’s voice is muffled, but even still, Allen can pick up how tired it sounds. Like he’s balancing himself between being awake and falling back asleep.

Allen opens the door carefully, not wanting to accidentally hit Lavi since the space is only made for one person. Their entire apartment is technically, but they make it work. They’ve made it theirs.

When Allen makes it completely in the bathroom, Lavi isn’t in front of the sink like he expected him to be. Rather, he’s sitting in the tub shirtless and soaked like he had the water on earlier. Allen wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. The bandages around his arm are damp and the wounds they covered have bled a bit if the spots of red soaked through are anything to say about it.

It’s not a good night for either of them it seems.

“Nightmare,” Allen says, voice tilted up in a question, while he grabs a hair tie on the counter. It’s too hot to have it all stuck to his neck like this. He sits on the closed lid of the toilet and waits for an answer.

Lavi lets out a heaving breath, less than a sigh and more like a release of emotion. He slides further down in the tub, a feat because it’s only big enough for him to lie down in with his legs folded. He can’t be too comfortable like that.

“Yeah,” he finally says and holds his hand out, Allen automatically moves from sitting on the toilet to sitting on the tiled floor to grab hold of it, not minding that it’s cold. “it got bad and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“It would have been fine, Lavi.” He reassures, because it’s true. They wouldn’t live together if they had a problem with each other’s nightmares. It’d be hypocritical and cruel.

“Probably,” Lavi shrugs like it isn’t that big a deal. “but you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Neither have you, and I’m awake now anyway. How long have you been in here?”

“Don’t know.”

Allen makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and places a kiss on the palm of Lavi’s hand, more comfort than sympathy. They both have days when they lose time, hours and minutes lost. It’s not easy, but they make do. They always have, always will.

“You should dry off and get out of the tub.” Allen says softly, disturbing the small silence that settled over them for a moment. “You might catch a cold.”

Lavi laughs then, soft but weary still. It’s a true laugh though and enough to make Allen smile. “If I get sick, then you’ll have to take care of me. It doesn’t sound like a bad trade-off.”

“If you get sick you spend the entire time whining like it’s the end of the world.” Allen huffs, but his voice is too fond to be annoyed. “I love you Lavi, but even I have my limits.”

“I can’t believe you said you love me.”

“Lavi, we’re married.”

“And you have made me the luckiest man.” Lavi smiles and looks less tired for it, looks a lot like he’s in love.

Allen rolls his eyes once more and stands, keeping their hands still clasped together. Lavi gets out of the tub without slipping, sitting down on the toilet lid Allen had occupied minutes before. Lavi dries off with Allen’s help, trades wet pants for ones that are dry, and puts on a shirt to help fight off the night’s chill.

“You got your bandages wet,” Allen comments, tugging lightly at the frayed edges of the gauze. “Do you want them changed or do you want to let the wounds breathe?”

“They were bleeding a bit earlier, but they’re fine now. Besides, they’re just a couple of scrapes. Don’t waste bandages on me.”

“It’s not wasting,” Allen responds automatically, but that’s all he says, now working to unravel the gauze wrapped around Lavi’s forearm.

The cuts are healing, self-inflicted scratches that comes from Lavi’s nightmares if they get too bad. It used to happen a lot more frequently after Allen first found him, free from the torture inflicted upon him but some days he mentioned still feeling like he was there. Mentioned feeling like there were parasites still crawling under his skin and making him feel wrong. He’s got scars from when it got too bad, when the scratches ran too deep, but Allen took in stride. Just like how Lavi takes it in stride when Allen breaks the bathroom mirror with his human hand and bleeds all over the tiles and glass.

The war is over, has been for just a few years, but there are scars that remain. For time is sometimes not enough to let all scars fade into nonexistence. And they are the lucky few that are still alive, still breathing. It is hard to slot themselves into a life without running, a life not having to worry and wonder about which day would finally be the last.

It’s odd and amazing and Allen is grateful he is not alone.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Lavi says softly, gently knocking their foreheads together, and placing a kiss on the bridge of Allen’s nose. He’s always had a knack for noticing when Allen’s thought process got too deep. “let’s get back to bed.”

Going back to bed doesn’t exactly mean sleeping. Allen’s scar still aches and Lavi still has a distant look in his eye, though he’s slowly coming back to himself. It’s fine though. There have been nights neither of them could sleep and spent hours talking about everything and nothing and played board games until the dawn light peaked through the window and slowly illuminated their small room.

Allen is the first out the bathroom, though Lavi isn’t far behind, practically pressed against his back as they make their way towards the bed. Though Allen plops back down first, Lavi adjusts them so he’s resting with his face buried in the crook between Allen’s neck and shoulder, arms wrapped around him. The summer heat makes the position a bit too hot, but neither of them mind it too much.

“Feeling better?” Allen asks, fingers threading through the tangle of Lavi’s hair. He knows it’s a soothing gesture, usually welcome during rough nights and even not so rough ones.

Lavi hums, breath tickling a spot just below Allen’s ear. When he speaks, his voice is muffled. “I forgot to ask, are you okay?”

If it was anyone else, Allen would lie and say he was fine, but they’re past those sorts of excuses and avoiding problems. On most days, anyway. “My scar started hurting. It doesn’t so much now.”

Lavi’s grip gets a little tighter, and Allen coaxes him so they can look at each other. Lavi looks just as tired as Allen feels, and he knows he doesn’t look any better by comparison. They’ll be fine though, it’s okay to have rough nights and even days.

“We’ll be okay.” Allen whispers, something he has stated often enough to know it’s true. “Do you know why?”

“Because we have each other.” Lavi answers automatically, smile growing on his face.

#d gray man #dgm #allen walker #lavi #laven #My writing

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