In which Danny wakes up in a weird place.... again.
The thing about Danny, is that he often wakes up in really, really weird situations. Like way more than you'd think, way more than he'd even like, really. He doesn't get that much sleep, being y'know, half ghost, and with school work and having to fight "The Forces of Evil" half the time it gets kind of... tedious, balancing things like sleep and eating and even getting water in him.
It's not really a good thing, but he started carrying around a water bottle he can clip to his bag. It reminds him to at least drink something, when he doesn't have time to grab anything to eat.
But because of all that fun stuff, the not sleeping and not eating and things, he often finds himself taking... unplanned naps. Waking up on the floor, his bed, his desk, one time even in his locker, but that was before his growth spurt. He's a little too big for that now.
Of course, this might take the cake, in terms of weird places he's woken up. He's never been to Gotham, that he remembers, and he certainly has never been to the Wayne Manor. He'd remember that, he thinks, what with the grand architecture, the giant paintings of random people with pearl necklaces and suits... yeah he'd know if he'd been here before.
"Ah, you are awake."
He tries really, really hard not to react to the sudden, aged voice next to him. It sounds like a nice guy, mature and soft like a wool blanket. But he has no idea where he is, when it is, anything, so in one second he's still on the big bed (which it is a BIG bed) and the next he's... well.
Floating ten feet in the air with his fist raised.
To his credit, the older gentleman staring up at him merely blinks, then sighs. "Another enhanced fellow, I suppose. Of course you are."
It's enough to lower Danny's hackles, his confusion growing the amount of time it takes to slowly float back to the floor.
"Can I uh... Can I ask where I am?"
The older man gives him a look. "You, young man, are in the Wayne family home. I'll ask you not to touch anything until the young Master gets back."
That... didn't really clear anything up, if Danny was being real. So he tried again. "Can I ask, uh. Why I'm here, sir?"
Mama didn't raise a ruffian with no manners.
Another sigh, the older man looking like he wanted to go take a nap himself. "I am not fully sure, myself. Young Master Damian found you, I suppose, and brought you here. You have been unconscious for a day or so."
Well. That was concerning all on it's own. Who was Damian? Was he a Wayne? Why was Danny in Gotham at all, he didn't remember a field trip or anything involving Vlad.
He might have started panicking if there wasn't the sudden, entirely too enticing smell of pancakes suddenly under his nose.
"You're entirely too skinny, young man. It's breakfast time." The older gentleman said, holding a tray of wayyy too much food for one person in front of Danny, and really...
What was he gonna do? Deny the man?
He would have to figure out what the hell was going on, later. Right now he had a date with the nicest looking spread he'd ever seen.
"And young man, you may call me Alfred."
Danny grinned, gently taking the tray from him and setting it on a nearby table. "Danny. It's good to meet you."
"Hmm." Alfred mumbled. "I certainly hope so, Master Danny. I certainly hope so."
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pretty sure ive found some favor in the gods of fucking malevolent
It is just turning 3am
I cannot tell if ive been awake or asleep for the past 3 hours
MY FUCKING NOSE IS STUFFED. BOTH FUCKING NOSTRILS
i very, very much struggle to sleep with my mouth open because it keeps me awake because it dries out my teeth and tongue and is uncomfortable and feels weird.
don't tell me to blow my nose. i have. doesn't fucking work.
my parents fucking forget my room gets shit circulation. i've been freezing my ass off because this fucking floor heater is finnicky and may just roast me alive ffs.
my brain will not stop playing people speaking norwegian on loop. i don't know if thats what woke me up, but im suddenly conscious - if i ever truly slept at all - and people will not stop speaking norwegian in my head
at least i remembered the word for together.
my lips are fucking chapped. this in itself prevents me from sleeping. i would kill someone if i didnt have chapstick.
my fucking nose hurts because of me wiping it and it being dried out.
my head is stuffy so therefore i dont feel tired
im thirsty (has been solved but still)
ITS FUCKING COLD AND MY NOSE IS STUFFY AND I CANT FUCKING SLEEP WITH MY MOUTH OPEN AND ITS COLD AS ALL HELL AND I NEED TO SNEEZE AND PEOPLE IN MY HEAD WILL NOT STOP SPEAKING NORWEGIAN AND IDK HOW TO SHUT THEM UP OHMY LORD
The first time it happens is a fluke so monumental that when Hitoshi wakes up he sits up almost in alarm because he slept.
He slept down in the common room, smushed against Bakugo's chest, Denki pressed to his own back and a blanket haphazardly thrown over all of them. A bleary look around reveals that almost everyone from their class is still downstairs and in some sleepy cuddle piles and Hitoshi blinks against the sting of the still running TV.
A quick glance at the clock reveals that he's been asleep for at least five hours already which is his personal record this entire year and it's confusing.
It's so confusing that it takes him way too long to see Aizawa perched at the kitchen table, working on some papers with only the help of one measly little lamp.
"You're going to ruin your eye like that," Hitoshi mutters, carefully untangling himself from his classmates, the shock of him being asleep still tingling in his fingertips.
"And you're going to ruin your back like that," Aizawa gives back without looking away from the paper and Hitoshi huffs out a breath as he ambles over and goes straight for the coffee machine.
"What are you doing here?" Hitoshi wants to know because Aizawa and Yamada have their own apartment, a cozy one, a home, so there really shouldn't be any reason for him to spend his night here with his class.
"Keeping vigil. All of them are prone to nightmares. Nightmares means waking up with their quirk at the ready, which is fine if they are alone in their own bed. This—" he nods towards all of the cuddle piles "—is kind of dangerous."
"Oh," Hitoshi breathes out because he never even thought about that before but of course it could spell disaster if Bakugo wakes up in a panic and explodes whoever is closest. Denki could shock them all to death. Mina could dissolve them on the spot.
Yeah, Hitoshi sees the danger.
"You woke up in a panic, too. Was it a dream?" Aizawa asks and Hitoshi cringes.
This is something he never brought up with them, because he knows the only solution is to take meds and he'd rather die and never sleep another minute ever again than do that. But he also promised himself he'd never lie to Aizawa or Yamada and Aizawa did just ask him a direct question.
"No," he admits and shuffles on his feet, willing the coffee to brew faster so he'll at least have something to hold on to.
Aizawa doesn't speak again but his entire face practically screams confusion at Hitoshi, who sighs.
"I don't sleep. Much. Normally. Especially not around other people," he admits and then finally he's able to burn his tongue on his piping hot coffee.
"What do you mean you don't sleep much?" Aizawa sounds honestly caught off guard and Hitoshi tries his best to hide behind the cup.
"It means just that. I just slept like—five hours all at once," he says after he confirms it again. "I think the last time that happened was before my quirk manifested."
"So it's a side-effect?"
"I guess so," Hitoshi says with a shrug. "I'm always tired but it's not debilitating. It's not something that makes me unfit to be a hero," he rushes out because Aizawa could probably pull him out of the hero course for this if he so choses and Hitoshi really doesn't want that.
"Do meds help?"
"I don't know. I never tried and I don't want to."
"Okay. Do you feel differently now that you slept for a while?"
"I feel—kind of muddled right now, actually," Hitoshi gives back and he's not sure he likes this feeling.
"How come you slept down here?" Aizawa wants to know next and isn't that the one million dollar question.
"No fucking clue," Hitoshi sighs out and his eyes flick back to where he just woke up, smushed between Bakugo and Denki, surrounded by most of his classmates.
Aizawa hums under his breath, clearly done with this line of interrogation and in all honesty, Hitoshi is thankful for it, because he doesn't seem to be mad and that's really all Hitoshi can ask for, especially once that muddled feeling gives way to a clarity in his mind Hitoshi has only very rarely experienced.
And that is something he very much likes, he realises, so he dedicates all of his newfound brainpower into finding out what made him sleep that night.
~*~*~
The obvious explanation would be that he felt safe or something close to it being surrounded by his classmates, so when the next movie night rolls around, Hitoshi is front and center, wedged between Mina and Kirishima on the couch, Denki sitting on the floor right in front of him, and he's trying his best to fall asleep, but nothing happens.
He stays wide awake until everyone shuffles off to bed and then Hitoshi watches the second part of the movie.
~*~*~
If it's not his classmates in general then maybe it were the two specific ones he woke up with. Denki will be easy enough to convince to sleep spooning him, so that's what Hitoshi does, but again, no dice. He stays up all night, expect this is kind of worse than before because he barely dares to move.
So Denki is a bust.
~*~*~
Getting Bakugo to agree to let him sleep with his head on his chest again is a sure-fire way to get himself exploded which would mean eternal rest but that hardly counts as sleep, so Hitoshi rules it out.
At least for now.
There are still other things he can try first that will result in less physical harm.
~*~*~
Hitoshi tries the couch. Maybe it was just the change of location that helped him along even though he changed families and bedrooms so fucking often in his life he barely can keep count and—surprising absolutely no one—the couch doesn't do it for him.
And worst of all, he ends up with a fucking backache. Aizawa can never know.
~*~*~
Hitoshi rules out the TV as background noise without even trying it because that's the fucking story of his life and it never ever helped him sleep even once.
~*~*~
At this point, Hitoshi is getting desperate, so he convinces himself that it was that one very specific blanket that helped him sleep so he steals that clean off the couch and wraps himself up in it for an entire night.
A night he spends staring at his goddamn ceiling because the blanket is doing shit for him.
~*~*~
He tries recreating the specific combination of foods he consumed that night but of course, that is a bust, too.
~*~*~
Hitoshi has to admit that maybe, possibly, it could be that Bakugo was part of the reason he was able to fall asleep, even though he doesn't like it. He'd rather chalk it up to a miracle bestowed upon him by the gods because that makes his quest of achieving a good night's sleep once more just as likely.
Still, Hitoshi is no quitter, so he makes a plan. While at it, he realises that he completely overlooked the fact that maybe he simply slept better on someone, so he gets Denki to help out again, but nothing.
So his next step is stealing one of Bakugo's shirts.
Thanks to his quirk Bakugo always smells faintly sweet and maybe Hitoshi just latched on to that. It's a valid thought, though it doesn't make his idea any more viable because stealing one of Bakugo's shirts proves to be quite difficult.
The guy never leaves his laundry unattended, so that is a complete bust and that means Hitoshi has to steal a shirt straight from him.
His best bet for that is the locker room and he does manage to get his hands on a shirt, but it's sweaty as fuck and smells like it, too, and Hitoshi really is not desperate enough to try sleeping with that, so he stuffs it right back where he found it.
But that means he needs a shirt from Bakugo's room directly and that only leaves him with one option—breaking in.
Hitoshi rationalises that it's a good practice for his eventual underground career as he climbs onto Bakugo's balcony.
The Baku-squad is out today, which means Bakugo is out, which means it's prime stealing time.
And Hitoshi's plan is all good and great, right until he comes face to face with Bakugo through his balcony door.
"Fuck," Hitoshi mutters, just as Bakugo yanks open the door.
"The fuck are you doing, eyebags?" Bakugo spits out and his hands are already dangerously sparking, which of course makes Hitoshi panic.
"Hi?" he weakly offers, and Bakugo's eyes narrow dangerously at him.
"Not hi. Why are you on my balcony, trying to break in?" he demands to know and yeah, okay, good question.
One Hitoshi doesn't really have an answer to so his brain blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.
"You wanna watch a movie?"
Bakugo seems to be taken just off guard by that because he blinks, rage clearly forgotten for a moment.
"I'm here because I didn't want to watch a movie with the squad, so what makes you think I'm up for a movie now?"
"It—would be with me?" Hitoshi weakly offers. "And we'd do it here?"
Bakugo musters him for a long moment, raking his eyes over him and then over the balcony as a whole, and Hitoshi sweats clean through his shirt. He's already seeing himself flying right off the balcony, or being exploded on the spot, but then, to his absolute surprise, Bakugo steps to the side.
"I decide the movie," Bakugo barks out and Hitoshi is too stunned to do anything but nod.
He has no clue how he got here, but he finds himself stretched out next to Bakugo on his bed, their sides pressed together and a laptop precariously perched on their legs with a movie Hitoshi hasn't paid a lick of attention to playing.
It isn't long before his eyes droop, before he slides down and lists to the side and when no biting comment comes, he just lets it happen.
And that's how Hitoshi wakes up, hours later, his cheek smushed into Bakugo's chest, who is just as fast asleep as Hitoshi was mere moments ago.
For a moment Hitoshi wants to bolt, but Bakugo is warm, and the bed is cozy, and his thoughts are still comfortably muddled, so instead of doing the smart thing and getting out to preserve his life, he presses closer to Bakugo, listens to his heartbeat and goes right back to sleep.
Hitoshi didn't really expect to still be alive come morning, but he wakes up after a full night of sleep to Bakugo getting ready for classes.
"Took you long enough," he gripes and stands in front of the bed. "Get ready, classes start in twenty."
Hitoshi makes a displeased sound but he does force himself out of bed, only to come face to face with Bakugo, who doesn't move away.
"You don't sleep much, do you," he says and it's not even a question.
"Not really," Hitoshi gives back and comes to the conclusion that he just slept like eight hours. At once.
This is absolutely unheard of.
"You slept here."
"You—seem to have somewhat of a calming influence on me," Hitoshi admits and realises how batshit insane his words are a moment too late.
"Calming," Bakugo repeats and he manages to make it sound like an insult.
"It's just your—" Hitoshi trails off and gestures at Bakugo at a whole.
"You didn't come here to watch a movie," Bakugo correctly infers and Hitoshi sighs.
"No. I wanted to steal a shirt to see if it's your smell that helps," he admits, cringing with how awful that sounds and Bakugo's eyes narrow at him. But Hitoshi is in it now, so he bravely continues. "I figured that would be easier than asking you to sleep with me again."
He winces as the words leave his mouth and Bakugo doesn't seem very pleased either, though he doesn't immediately move to strangle Hitoshi.
In fact, what he does do when he finally moves, is to turn away and dive right into his closet. Hitoshi is about to make a really inappropriate joke when something hits him right in the face.
"Uh," he intelligently says when the cloth—a shirt, apparently—falls down into his hands and Bakugo is very decidedly not meeting his eyes anymore.
"Take it and get he hell out of here, you're going to make me late," Bakugo mutters and for once in his life Hitoshi does just as he's being told and flees the scene.
~*~*~
The shirt—no matter how much it smells like Bakugo—does nothing for him.
~*~*~
Hitoshi is sitting on his bed, Bakugo's shirt in his hands, contemplating life.
He has barely slept a wink last night, and even though the shirt gave him something to cuddle up to that smelled like Bakugo, it didn't help with actually falling asleep and Hitoshi should be used to it.
But it seems that now that he's tasted what it's like to get a good night's sleep his body is no longer satisfied with whatever meagre minutes he can scrap together and he's been kind of out of it all day.
And it absolutely does not help that apparently he needs Bakugo to sleep. As in, the real person and not just something that smells like him and how fucked up is that?
He doesn't even like Bakugo. Well—he didn't, before this, but watching a movie with him had been kind of nice, no matter how fast Hitoshi had fallen asleep and Bakugo had been nice to him, too. He hadn't killed Hitoshi and he hadn't unceremoniously kicked him out and instead relinquished one of his shirts to him, which is just—nice.
Hitoshi sighs and tries to prepare himself for another sleepless night, when someone knocks on his door.
To say that he's surprised when he comes face to face with Bakugo is an understatement.
"So?" Bakugo snaps out, his hands stashed in his pockets.
"So?" Hitoshi gives back because he isn't quite sure what Bakugo wants.
"Did it help, troll doll?"
"Oh, ah—no. It didn't. Sorry. Wait," Hitoshi says, rushing back into his room to get Bakugo's shirt.
When he turns around, Bakugo is inside of his room, and the door behind him is firmly closed.
"Uhm," Hitoshi weakly says because maybe now is the time where he gets exploded.
"That movie has a second part," Bakugo says, pointedly avoiding eye contact and Hitoshi blinks.
"A second part," he repeats because he doesn't quite understand what Bakugo is getting at.
"That we should fucking watch, you idiot," Bakugo snaps out, clearly fed up with Hitoshi's slow processing and before Hitoshi really knows what's happening, they are stretched out on Hitoshi's bed, except this time, Hitoshi didn't get a chance to even pretend, because Bakugo wrangled him into place, so that Hitoshi's head is already resting on his chest.
He can already feel his eyes sliding shut.
"That's—you're really nice," Hitoshi mutters, and he's already so sleepy, he doesn't even feel ashamed of cuddling up to Bakugo, pressing his ear harder to his chest to hear his steady heartbeat better.
"You tell anyone and I'm going to kill you," Bakugo says almost friendly, which makes the threat all the more real.
"Sure," Hitoshi mumbles and goes completely boneless against him. "But like. Thank you. And sorry."
Hitoshi feels the need to say that at least because this can't be nice for Bakugo in the same way that it's nice for him because it's not as if Bakugo has any problems sleeping.
"'s helping me, too," Bakugo admits after a moment and Hitoshi forces himself to stay awake long enough to hear him out. "Nightmares make it hard, sometimes. Didn't have any with you there."
"Mh," Hitoshi hums because that's nice.
That's good for both of them.
"Sweet dreams, you sleepy idiot," Bakugo snorts out and Hitoshi wants to protest, because he's really, seriously never this sleepy but before he can form the words, he's already gone.
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I've had difficulties to fall asleep for years now, mostly because every time I close my eyes or let myself rest, random unwanted and frankly distressing images appear in my head and I can hardly do anything about them. They don't only appear at night, but mostly whenever I'm not distracting myself with something, which is the case when I'm trying to fall asleep
Usually I would just keep myself awake until I pass out of exhaustion, but that hasn't had a great effect on my general health
HOWEVER
Recently I realized that whenever I stop paying attention to my physical body and imagine myself as a fox, in the place and position I currently am, it occupies my mind well enough and permits me to actually push the images away and brings me peace and happiness
It sounds so stupid but the fact that it's been helping and making me feel more connected to my identity is wholesome and comforting
Sleep feels so doomed sometimes because what do you mean
If you sleep now, you can still get four and a half hours of rest! And every moment you stay awake the less you get to rest!! And you don't want to stay awake the whole night!! Thats REALLYY bad for your health!!
