Chapter Text
Awareness comes in bits and pieces, filtering through Sky’s mind like leaves in the wind. He can tell a fair bit of time has passed, since the last rays of sunlight are starting to dissipate. He’s warm and comfortable, and he doesn’t ever want to leave.
He’s wrapped in a fur pelt, and the sensation of the soft fur on his cheeks makes him sigh. Why does his body hurt so much? What happened? Why is there a hand in his hair?
Absently, he wonders where his boots went.
Suddenly, his thoughts slot back into place and he remembers the events of the battle and what came after. He remembers Hyrule’s teary eyes.
Sky’s eyes crack open, and he blinks rapidly to clear his blurry vision. He struggles to sit up, desperate to see his brothers and know they’re all ok after the fight, but firm hands keep him down.
“Woah there, Sky.” A voice rumbles from somewhere behind him. Twilight? “Take it slow. You’ve been asleep for a while. It’s good to see you awake.”
“Twi..?” His voice is a little worse for wear, but he gets it out, casting his gaze around.
“Yup, that’s me.” Twilight replies, now moving to assist Sky’s weak struggles to sit up. “Do you remember what happened?” He’s watching Sky carefully, closely.
“Uhh,” Sky replies eloquently. “There was a monster fight. I…couldn’t move. I don’t know..what happened.” He frowns, the remnants of the overwhelming terror he felt creeping back into his bones. He shivers a little.
It doesn’t escape Twilight’s notice, and he places a heavy and grounding hand on Sky’s shoulder. He sighs.
“That’s the gist of it. Hyrule’s deemed that your body is physically fine, and nobody can remember any potential magical interference. Do you have any idea what could be causin’ this? Any idea at all? Hyrule said you were awake the whole time.”
As he speaks, Twilight makes meaningful eye contact over Sky’s shoulder, and he can hear footsteps approaching.
Sky considers how much he should divulge. He desperately wants to keep his struggles to himself, to prevent the others from seeing him as less capable. But he’s already made himself a liability, and he feels like lying now will only create more problems for the Chain.
“I’ve been…having issues recently. With my sleep, I mean.” His voice comes out small, frustration and humiliation leaking in despite his efforts. “It’s not just the way I seem to fall asleep at every available moment, which I’m sure you’ve all noticed. I’ve been seeing things at night, things that aren’t there, and they take over my rational thought and they’re…scary.” It’s the lamest way he could have described what’s been happening, but it’s all he can muster right now.
He realizes with a start that the whole Chain is listening to his every word, though some of them are feigning nonchalance better than others. Sky figures that Time told them to give him space, and he briefly thanks the goddesses for that.
“There was one night,” he continues, “that I woke up and I couldn’t move. It was just like what happened during the battle. But it only lasted for a couple of minutes and I thought…I thought that if I pretended it didn’t happen it wouldn’t happen again. I’ve put all of you at risk, and I’m sorry.”
“Sky,” Time finally speaks up, and he steps in front of Sky. He must be who Twilight called over. “We’re all glad that you’re alright now. But why haven’t you said anything to anyone? We could have tried to help, or been more prepared.”
He’s right, and that’s what flares unexpected anger inside of him. Not at Time, but at himself. However, his sleep-addled brain doesn’t seem to be capable of directing that anger properly.
“I didn’t want to be a burden, and I know I should have said something, of course I do, but I couldn’t bear to slow everyone down, or make them worry. I’m the only one who has to deal with these Hylia-forsaken problems, so I’m the only one who needs to know about them. It’s nobody else’s concern. You can carry on with your lives while I’m sleeping.”
It comes out hotter than he intends, but the burning anger vacates him almost as quickly as it came, leaving him drained and guilty. It wasn’t Time’s fault he was like this. And it was other people’s concern, if he was going to risk putting them in danger.
His head drops a little, and he mumbles out an apology. He’s tired.
Instead of addressing his outburst, Time places a hand on Sky’s head and says, “I’m sorry you’ve been carrying this by yourself. We’re going to do everything we can to find out the cause.”
With that, he turns and addresses the group.
“We need to get going soon, so everyone get packing.”
Time walks away, making eye contact with Twilight again, an unspoken communication. Sky feels pathetic. He wants to insist he can take care of himself.
Instead, he turns to Twilight. “I’m going to go find my things.” He murmurs, slowly climbing to his feet. His muscles ache, but his body feels relatively normal otherwise.
Mostly, he feels guilty. Guilty for endangering Warriors, for making the whole Chain return to camp when they could be miles closer to their destination, for the worry he knows he’s caused.
The group all get their belongings together and begin their walk once more, Sky at the back. The day turns out relatively uneventful, and the exhaustion that Sky feels is almost his baseline level. Thank Hylia for that.
They call it a night a little earlier than what might have been normal, but Sky doesn’t bring it up. His emotions have been slowly building to a boil as they walk, with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company as the hills move past.
Wild sets up his cookpot on the now-roaring fire, and starts cooking. The others settle in, and a gentle melody from Time’s ocarina floats through the air. Warriors and Legend spar in the distance, the clinking of swords a backdrop to the scene. It’s peaceful.
Or at least it would be, if Sky could get a grip on his emotions. It’s not only the guilt that eats at him, but there’s also an overwhelming sense of anxiety and despair. What’s wrong with him? Will there be a way to fix it?
He realizes he’s been staring off into space, and Hyrule and Four are both watching him. He can’t take the scrutiny anymore, and he vaguely says something about getting some air before he wanders a little way into the forest.
He’s aware that he’s spiraling, and it isn’t until his knees hit the ground that he realizes he can’t move his legs.
No. No, not again.
He starts to panic, and then realizes with a start that it’s lasted only a moment and he’s already regained feeling. Despite this, the sudden unexpected loss of control is enough to leave him gasping, terrified of a repeat of yesterday.
What if he hurts himself? What if nobody comes looking for him, and he can’t move?
An owl hoots softly in the distance, the evening breeze ruffles his hair. He doesn’t move.
He’s still kneeling there, green and brown leaves crushed under his shaking hands, when he hears distant movement in the underbrush.
“Sky?” It’s Twilight, and Sky is distantly grateful that it’s him. Twilight has already seen him at just about his lowest.
“Twi,” he calls back shakily, lifting his head slightly. The hesitant footsteps grow louder as Twilight breaks into a jog, reaching Sky’s side quickly.
“Are you ok? Did it happen again? Did you fall?”
His voice is unbearably gentle, and shame tinges Sky’s cheeks and ears pink. He fell over like a small child. He squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t answer any of Twilight’s questions.
It’s silent for a while, and Twilight places his hand on Sky’s shoulder. Frustration and humiliation course through him, and he finally looks up, eyes dull and exhausted.
“Why is this happening to me?”
He knows Twilight doesn’t have all the answers. He’s barely older than Sky himself. But he needs someone to give him some kind of direction, a guiding light in all of this darkness.
Twilight takes a deep breath and kneels next to Sky, heedless of the dirt. His eyes are soft and searching.
“You know…it can be hard to accept the burdens that are given to us sometimes. Hylia knows I’d rather have lived a quiet and simple ranch life than be pulled into this mess. But you have to be willing to find the good in your life, or you’ll drown in the bad.”
It almost shocks Sky to hear such a thought-out sentiment coming from a rancher with limited education, but he knows Twilight is well-versed in the ways of life. Twilight gently pulls Sky into his side, moving them so they’re no longer kneeling on hard dirt.
“It’s ok to grieve, Sky. You don’t have to be grievin’ a person. You can grieve a place, or a feeling, or a time in your life that you’ll never get back. You can grieve a body that doesn’t do what you want it to anymore. People grieve all sorts of things.”
Sky feels overwhelmed with emotion, his chest constricting. He can’t think of anything to say.
They sit in silence for a while, Sky breathing heavily and blinking back the pressure in his eyes. Eventually, Twilight helps him to his feet, and they make their way back to the others.
Sky goes right to sleep.
▲△▲△▲
They choose to keep their camp for the next day, with Time citing rest and regrouping. Sky truly, truly hopes it’s not just for his sake. He spends that day in a little lighter spirits than before, and he cracks a few jokes with Four.
About midday, he hears a voice call out, “Sky! Sky!”
He sees Hyrule bound over to where Sky’s sitting, and Sky nearly stands to greet him in anticipation of what’s gotten him so worked up.
Hyrule is nearly speechless with excitement, holding a thick leatherbound book in his hands and bouncing up and down. “I think I found something that can help you!”
Sky’s eyes widen, and he feels a tiny spark of hope light in his chest. “What did you find?”
Hyrule takes a deep breath, then thrusts the book at Sky, flipped open to a dog-eared page.
“I’ve been trying to study medicine more officially, so I can be better at healing. I picked up this book about different ailments in Kakariko a while ago, but I forgot all about it until today. I think it mentions something similar to what’s been happening to you.”
Sky feels the spark ignite into a small flame. There might be a way to fix this.
He scans the passage fervently, his hands shaking as he reads what it describes.
“In this case, patients will often experience sleeplessness, excessive sleeping, or fits of muscle paralysis (totality varies from isolated muscle groups to full-body). Various tests determined that stress and extreme emotion can trigger these fits. Multiple elixirs have been developed that can mitigate symptoms: recipes notated below. No cure recorded.”
No cure recorded.
The words bounce around in his skull, and he can barely bring himself to comprehend them.
He’s going to be like this forever.
Instead of despair, he finds that he’s numb. A part of him has wondered, and could feel that the change was happening in a deep and fundamental part of him.
He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Hyrule throws his arms around him.
“Oh Sky, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know it’s been so hard for you.” Hyrule seems to instantly pick up on what’s upset Sky, those three cursed words, and he holds Sky tighter.
He rests his face in the tunic of the younger Hylian, taking deep breaths and letting himself grieve the time before. When the worst that happened was he overslept a little.
This is his new normal.
Most of the Chain seems to pick up on what’s happening, and before long Hyrule isn’t the only one holding Sky close.
He lets himself fall apart in the arms of those who will keep him safe, lets himself grieve like Twilight said. Maybe he doesn’t have to do this alone.
▲△▲△▲
The experience never gets much better, but he learns to handle it. Wild develops a special elixir based on the recipes in Hyrule’s book that keeps the worst of his symptoms at bay. The night terrors lessen. Sky gets better at anticipating what he calls “freeze attacks”, and he’s able to warn someone if he knows he’s about to go down so they can catch him.
They always sit with him through the attacks, providing comfort in the ways they know how. Wind chatters on endlessly about stories from the sea, vividly painting a world that Sky can escape to. Wild silently scribbles down new recipe ideas, occasionally carefully holding up his notes where Sky can read them. Twilight runs his fingers through Sky’s hair, humming melodies from Ordon and hugging him close.
It takes a long, long time for Sky to accept that there’s no cure for what ails him, but seeing his brothers’ unfailing acceptance of him helps. The fact that he’s still a hero, that he still fights and adventures and laughs, helps as well.
So he grows, he adapts, and at the end of a long day, warmth and body heat pressing in on all sides, he sleeps.
