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Sleep’s gifts have changed each of them, III’s limbs have grown and warped in impossible ways, Vessel’s teeth are sharper than any wolves could hope to be and IV’s skin and organs have shedded away, making room for Sleep to settle.
II hasn’t changed. None of them are really sure why, as the second they’d assumed he’d be one of the most changed but as it stands III and IV are miles ahead of him, their bodies twisted and morphed perfectly for Sleep.
II tries not to let it get to him, he knows there must be a reason, there’s a reason behind everything Sleep does and he needs to have faith in Him, needs to trust in His plan.
Still, when he first notices the changes he can’t help the burst of relief that he feels, the knowledge that his god hasn’t left him behind is overwhelming and he’s so intensely happy about it that he doesn’t stop to think about what this might mean for him.
Besides, he doesn’t actually notice straight away. The manor is old and derelict and none of them have thought to try and do it up so there are no actual mirrors around, there’s some reflective surfaces but they’re cracked and warp their shape more than anything so there’s nothing for him to compare to.
It isn’t until he hugs Vessel one afternoon and notices that he’s at his chest when he’s sure he used to reach his shoulders that he pauses. This has to be Sleep’s doing and he’s grateful for it, he doesn’t understand it necessarily but he knows it’ll be something to bring him closer.
He decides to leave it for a little while though, he doesn’t want to bring it up to the others and the fact they haven’t brought it up to him has him doubting. Not much but enough, surely they’d say something? At least check on his process? The fact they’re not saying anything leaves him wary.
He finally decides to bring it up the next time he hugs Vessel and he’s even lower down, barely reaching his solar plexus. The others are there too and none of them are saying anything and he finally decides to bring it up, he has to know if this is real or if he’s just losing his mind.
“Have you.. Have any of you noticed that I’m shorter lately?” He’s embarrassed to bring it up, he’s the shortest anyway but this has made him more self-conscious.
Each of them pauses and looks at him, he can feel their eyes scan him and he tries not to squirm under their scrutiny. It’s III who breaks the silence, “What do you mean II? You’ve always been the shortest?”
“Yeah but.. Don’t I seem even shorter lately? I used to come up to Vessel’s shoulder and now look at me!"
“Hah sure, you were practically six foot!” III laughs at him, leaning over to ruffle the top of II’s hair and II does his best not to pout, he knows he’s only joking with the act but it makes him feel so.. so little.
And why haven’t they noticed? Is II actually losing his mind? Maybe he was wrong the whole time and his change isn’t with his height but with his sanity, maybe his brain is finally crumbling under the pressure of serving a being so much greater than him.
He doesn’t think that’s it though. It can’t just be that.
He’s proven right as after that conversation, now that he’s actually addressed this, it seems to be progressing at an almost alarming speed. His clothes are hanging off him to the point where he finally has to give in and buy new ones but it takes barely a week for them to be too large on him. It doesn’t take long for him to realise the only clothes that fit him anymore are from the kids section and even then he doesn’t know how long they’ll last.
He’s scared, he doesn’t mean to be, craves the relief and the gratitude he felt when he’d first noticed his change, when he’d thought it was something more controllable than this, something that Sleep could possibly want from him and use, he can’t see how He could possibly benefit from this.
He tries to cook but the cupboards are so far away from his tiny hands, tries to read but the books are far out of reach. He’s small and still the others aren’t saying anything, still everyone’s acting like this is normal.
It’s when he next tries to play the drums that everything catches up to him and he breaks. His drumsticks are so big in his hands and he barely has the range to move like he once did, even getting his legs to reach the kickpad is an issue.
He doesn’t mean to cry, he really doesn’t. He can’t help it though, can’t hold his tears back, not when he’s in such distress, how is he meant to worship Sleep if he can’t play the drums properly? How can he spread His word if this is taken from him?
He leaves the room jerkily, desperate to find the others, he can’t be alone right now and he needs their help to deal with this, needs them to fix this, to speak to Sleep and explain what’s wrong.
He finds them in the living room, he practically tumbles in the room and each of them hurries to him, standing around him and he breaks, his voice cracks as he explains everything, how he’s terrified of how small he’s getting and can they- can Vessel please speak to sleep so he can get back to worshipping.
He talks on and on until his voice grows hoarse and he finally quiets, he tries to ignore his racing heart, tries to ignore how they’re all towering over him and how trapped he feels, how caged in he is.
“II… What are you on about? You know we’d never ask you to help with something like that.” Vessel’s voice is low, as if he’s trying to calm a spooked animal and II panics. What do they mean? He’s the second, he has the most to do with the offerings aside from Vessel, what the fuck does he mean?!
“That’s not- I help, I put our offerings together with you! I record them and go on stage! What do you mean?!” He knows he’s getting frantic but he can’t help it, he can’t possibly wrap his head around what Vessel just said, can’t wrap his head around the sheer concern in all their faces right now.
“II that part of our worship has nothing to do with you, you know that, you don’t need to worry your little head around things like this, okay?”
And II loses it. He was already crying from the stress of it all but now he’s in hysterics, he doesn’t understand what they all mean and they all seem so certain that this isn’t something for II to worry about, that this doesn’t affect him.
They’re all looking at him with such worry and that makes it worse, Vessel finally leans down and scoops II up and II bawls at this. Vessel holds him tight against his chest and II’s arms and legs wrap equally tight against him as he wails. He’s so distraught it takes him a moment to realise he can’t get his legs to meet.
Just how short is he now? How quickly is he changing? How long has this been going on without him realising?
He cries and cries in Vessel’s arms, big heaving tears that exhaust him and he hates how he’s being soothed by Vessel, hates the comfort he’s finding in him and hates how III and IV are stroking their hands against his back and dropping kisses against him achieving nothing but making him feel even smaller than he already does.
Eventually, his small frame can’t take it anymore and the exhaustion from the mental turmoil catches up with him and he passes out on Vessel’s chest.
He wakes up in a start still lying on Vessel’s chest, his breathing already laboured and he tries his best not to devolve into a state but how can he not? Vessel’s clearly laid down at some point which would be fine except II is very distinctively lying on Vessel’s chest. He’s no longer tall enough for him to be lying elsewhere.
Panic flits in his vision and he doesn’t know what to do, what’s happening to him? Is he going to shrink forever? How long can this continue for before he entirely disappears?
He shakes and sobs on Vessel’s chest sending prayer after prayer out to Sleep, begging him to fix this, to reverse it, to just halt it. He doesn’t know what the point of this ‘gift’ is but he hates it, hates what’s happening to him and the complete lack of control he has.
He cries more and more until he eventually realises that he’s sitting in a puddle, he’s sitting in a puddle of his own fucking tears and he feels sick, this can’t be right. How can this be happening? And he seems to have shrunken more since waking up, he can’t be above the height of a finger and it’s awful, he wants to throw up to do anything but there’s nothing left he can do.
He tries to yell at Vessel, pounds against him doing anything he can think of to wake the man up but his voice is now too small to carry that far and his fists are far too weak to make any real impact.
By the time Vessel does wake up, he almost brushes II off his chest and II’s never felt fear like that before. He has to cling to Vessel’s cloak so he doesn’t get swept away.
“Sorry II,” There’s a smile in his voice as if it’s funny, as if nothing here is wrong or out of the ordinary and it makes II feel sick, makes him feel more fear than he’s ever felt before.
II yells at him, half in fear and half in desperation but Vessel can’t hear a word he says. Eventually, the taller man decides to pick II up and bring him to his ear and it’s terrifying but II’s glad at least that Vessel appears willing to listen to him.
He pours out his heart as he talks, explains how worried he is and how awful this is and how just lost he is with this all. He explains everything and when Vessel finally pulls him away and looks at him with worry etched over his face II’s heart sings in relief, finally, finally Vessel’s listening to him, finally he remembers.
“III, IV, can you come here please?” His voice is thick with concern and II’s so glad because finally they can make a plan, they can work on reversing this.
The other two wander in, curious about what has Vessel so worried and Vessel starts to speak, “He’s having those.. delusions again. They seem to be getting worse, I don’t know what to do anymore, the things he’s saying…” II’s heart drops. No. No this wasn’t- this isn’t how it’s meant to go, they’re meant to be helping him.
He tries to speak up, to say anything but they all ignore him, his voice not loud enough to get their attention anyway.
“I hate to say it, but maybe,” IV’s voice is hesitant but he steels himself and continues, “Maybe we’ve been too relaxed with II, Sleep warned us about him for a reason after all.”
The rest of the conversation is white noise after that, he can vaguely hear the others agreeing with IV but he’s so lost in his panic he can’t really work out their words, he has no idea what this means for him but he’s sure it’s not good.
He does catch Vessel’s sad nod of the head before he turns and picks II up by the scruff of the neck. It’s so sudden and jarring that II doesn’t realise it’s happening at first and everything feels like it’s happening in a blur, he’s not even sure if he struggles or if he just lets it happen.
It isn’t until Vessel’s laying II out on his desk that II starts to fight, he squirms and tries to get away but Vessel simply tuts and pushes him back down easily. II lands with a thud and blushes in embarrassment as Vessel starts to speed his limbs out. He’s suddenly aware of his own nudity of how he must have entirely lost his clothes when he shrunk and he squirms a bit in embarrassment,
“Be good II, IV’s right, we’ve been far too lenient with you.”
II want to weep, to hear those words from Vessel of all people breaks his heart and he starts looking around to distract himself from the pain he’s feeling. That turns out to be a mistake, he’s not sure what exactly it is he’s lying on, only that it’s not quite the desk and when his head turns he sees pins.
His heart freezes, he doesn’t know what this means but he doesn’t think this is going to go well for him. He’s proven right when Vessel picks one up in his fingers and uses his other hand to press II down, to keep him still.
Ever so slowly the man starts to push the pin into II’s thorax. II tries to struggle, does his best to stop this slow torture but it takes so little effort from Vessel to subdue him that it’s fucking embarrassing.
The process is agony and he’s sure this isn’t right, sure that he can’t be awake for this, shouldn’t be alive for this but he is and it’s awful. Slowly, Vessel works the pin through his body and he doesn’t know if the pin is strengthened by Sleep or if his body is so weak now that it barely puts up a fight.
He wants to move, to wriggle free, but even breathing is causing his chest to move on this sharp object and causes pain and fire to blaze in him, he’s having to take as shallow breaths as possible but even that’s agony. He thinks he’d throw up if he wasn’t so worried about aggravating it.
During II’s panic Vessel appears to have gotten more pins and II’s hit with white-hot fear before Vessel goes to work arranging him and he’s so fucking relieved that they aren’t going in him it takes him a moment to work out exactly what Vessel’s doing, the way he’s positioning them around his arms and legs, spreading him out and putting them far too close and tightly together for II to break free, putting him on display.
Making him into a damned butterfly.
The thought hits him all at once and he wants to cry at it, he tries his hardest to talk to Vessel, to work something out but it hurts far too much to manage and besides, it’s not like he’d be heard even if he did succeed.
He cries as much as he can but it’s so difficult and so painful. Aside from the pain radiating from his chest his legs and arm feel utterly numb, he doesn’t know if this is from the pins or Sleep’s involvement but he has almost no feeling in them, he tries his hardest to twitch a single finger and there’s nothing, it’s impossible.
Vessel’s eyes are so big and sad as he stares at him that II almost flinches, “I’m sorry II, If you hadn’t been making such a fuss we wouldn’t have needed to do this, you’re clearly a danger to yourself so we need to keep you safe.”
II wants to scoff at this, wants to ask exactly how this is keeping him safe but he can’t do any of that. He just has to lie there, utterly on display and try not to drown in the pain.
He doesn’t think it can get worse and really that’s on him, he should have known it can, it always seems to. Vessel picks him up and it’s terrifying, he’s so fucking helpless and reliant on Vessel that he can’t breathe and each slight movement jostles the pin inside him causing sheer agony.
Vessel walks him to their studio, each step feels like getting stabbed and by the time they reach the room II is sweating from the effort of keeping his breathing even.
“We spend the most time here so it’ll be easiest to keep an eye on you.” Vessel explains and II wants to choke at this, at the thought of being left here.
Vessel places him so he’s facing his drum set and it’s one of the crueller parts of this, to have his safe haven so close and yet so far out of reach. If his fingers could twitch as if to hold drumsticks he knows they would.
Vessel leaves him there, utterly alone and staring at his drums and II crumbles. It hurts to cry so hard but he can’t help it, he’s inconsolable and he doesn’t know what to do.
Eventually, he calms down and manages to pass out. It’s uncomfortable and cold, his limbs ache and the pain is still all-consuming but he does manage to drift off and he’s grateful for it.
After that, time seems to pass in a blur. He’s left alone for the most part and even when they have practice they don’t pay him much attention, at most giving him a stroke but that’s it and he hates how much he’s come to crave that.
It’s hard to keep track though, when they aren’t there the only light comes from the monitor and time is fragmented, it’s distorted and off and he feels like he’s losing himself to whatever this is. He doesn’t seem to need to eat or drink any longer and it doesn’t appear that he’s shrinking anymore. At least he has that. He clings to that relief and he’s grateful for it because it proves all of this is real, that despite the others thinking he was always like this he wasn’t, if he was he wouldn’t be so fucking relieved to have stopped shrinking.
Eventually, Vessel starts talking about him, (not to him of course, it never is these days), he’s discussing what to do with the drums and II barely picks up on the rest but he doesn’t need to. Hearing his drums mentioned seems to activate his last piece of strength and he wriggles and shouts and somehow manages to get their attention.
Vessel’s gaze turns on him and he smiles softly, laughs because, “Of course, II always loved the drums didn’t he?” And then he picks up the sticks and II’s elated, he remembered! That’s got to be a good sign!
“You’ve been so good for us lately, Sleep was right we should have done this for you earlier and we’re so sorry we failed you,” There’s genuine remorse in his voice and II doesn’t fully know how to process that before he continues, sounding much lighter, “But you’ve done so well II you deserve a reward.”
A… Reward? Will he finally be let down? Will this fucking pin get removed from his chest? If all that takes is being good he’ll do whatever that entails, even if has to lose all of himself if it gets him down from here he’ll of it.
Except, except he doesn’t think that’s what it means at all. Vessel’s walking over to him with the drumstick still in hand and III and IV are watching with this with a predatory glint in their eyes. In all honesty, Vessel’s is no better.
Their leader reaches him and he’s strong, he’s so fucking strong and he breaks the majority of the ends off both sticks with ease and lets them fall to the floor, II does his best not to flinch at that. He struggles with the not flinching when Vessel leans down and starts tracing the tip of one against his ass.
He tries to convince himself that this must mean anything else but then Vessel’s slowly pushing it in and all his thoughts leave his head. It’s so large compared to his small frame and there’s no lubrication. None of this is what he wanted and how is this a reward, how can this possibly be a reward?
It doesn’t get far into him, it’s so big and he’s so fucking small but the head fits perfectly inside and he’s so tight around it that Vessel doesn’t need to hold it there, he just lets it hang from him. He wants it out, he's so humiliated and he tries his hardest to dislodge it but Vessel’s firmly wedged it inside and he knows he doesn’t have a hope.
And then Vessel’s taking the second one and slowly but firmly pressing it into his cunt. II screams at this, he struggles like his life depends on it but the pin successfully keeps him down, it tears him open but he doesn’t care, none of him cares about any of this, he just can’t go through with it.
He doesn’t get a choice though, it slowly breaches his entrance and it hurts but this one isn’t dry. Mortifyingly there’s something slicking its way in and he knows Vessel didn’t apply any lubricant, knows this one is all him.
Unlike with the stick in his ass Vessel doesn’t stop with this one, he forces it further and further into II until he can hear the sickening crunch of his hips as the bones break to make more space for this obtrusion.
It hurts like nothing else, even the pin in him doesn’t hurt like this and he wishes he could pass out, wishes he could get a moment's peace from this. He can feel the drumsticks press against each other, can feel how they pinch his fragile skin, he can feel the awful pain in his hips and the bloody tear in his chest from his thrashing and how the fuck was this supposed to be a reward?
And then Vessel pulls back, he’s so happy and content that II recoils from it, “I’m so glad I can give you the drumsticks, we know how much you love them.” His voice is a low murmur and he bends down to kiss II’s forehead gently and II sobs, the gentleness in all this pain finally breaking him.
He’s mortified by the fact he’s tight enough to keep the drumsticks in without any help but he’s even more mortified when Vessel tapes them to him so that even if II’s body eventually does give up they’ll still be stuck in him.
“There,” Vessel beams, “You never have to be without your gift. This is a present from me, from Sleep for being so good for us.” And it hurts to hear that, to hear his sweet words mixed with such extreme torture, It hurts and aches and it hurts even more when they all leave him behind, bloody and broken.
It’s worse after that, when he can feel Sleep start to heal him and knit his hips together around the sticks, when he realises he’s fucking down on them desperate for any form of sensation even if it means aggravating the pin in his chest.
When the others next walk in and he’s open and needy and desperate for any form of relief.
When he realises he can’t remember a life before this,