A/N: Created on a whim, so it is unorganized. Includes an implied mute Touya. There is multiple implications for the end as well.

Drabble Title: He Sleeps Well in the Dead of Night
Warnings: Implied emotional abuse(?)
Pair(s): Natural/Touya

He clutches you desperately and you make a soft, pathetic wheezing sound you intended to be a cooing noise in response. He looks at you, dull eyes painted in hues that express worry and terror, but you mouth 'sorry' and softly start petting his forehead.

You always had considered him to be unique in his own type of way, given he had no positive reinforcements as a child growing up. Sure, he was given what he wanted, whenever he wanted, but you are reluctant to say being spoiled is a good thing.

Though you had your own share in negative childhood influences, you find his amount of them highly disconcerting. You think if it was not for his father, with his demented and uncouth goals for the future, he could have had a better childhood growing up, rather than being devoid of one. Being presented abused Pokémon to take care of while at the same time being educated the ideas of a deranged man as a guardian could only create a result you never had dreamed of.

Dreams of a warped and defected man-child, as his father had distinctly spat at his own child on a rather gruesome day.

You think slowly about all of the things he had missed out on as a child. He had not been allowed to play outside, hug his guardians, and make human friends. You suppose toys and candy were favorable to a child, but only material goods can keep one happy for so long.

N Harmonia grew up to be a man who excelled in the subject of ideals. Exposed to the harshness of what you perceive as the world you live in, he was a child who wished for the creation of a perfect utopia for him, as well as his friends. You cannot blame him for his desires and his thoughts of the world. You know as well as him at this point that not everything will be what you had initially thought it to be. While this may be true, you cannot ever bring yourself to come to a full compromise with some of the things he had said or done. You know he is as flawed as everyone you had seen - yourself included.

N is but a child. You know this much. He is a child manifested within a body of a man. You realized this on your journey, and you realize it now as you hold him close to you. He chants your name like a mantra as you give him the love and affection he had lacked all the years. You tangle your fingers through his long hair. You touch his skin softly with gentle gazes. You hold his smooth hands in your soft ones with a light grip. You even litter his face with tender yet sheepish kisses. You do not mind doing these things with him. Sometimes you think giving comfort is the only thing you are considerably good at doing, and you find yourself grateful such a talent can be used now.

You think you do a nice job at it, and N appreciates it.

You keep telling yourself that as you wake up the next day with empty arms and cold fingers.