Disclaimer: I'm not a part of CLAMP or Kodansha, and that means I don't own Tomoyo or Eriol. You knew that, though. The song Tomoyo sings is "Japanese Lullaby" by Eugene Fields, copyright unknown. (I'd been looking for a Japanese lullaby, but got one titled that. It's still cute, ne?) Neither the song nor the characters are used with permission, but they are not used for profit, either. Please don't sue me.
Dedication: Hey, Circe? Thanks.
Notes: This'll teach me to re-read my own fic. Set after The Hidden Inside, and not long before Strange Gray Days.
Rock-a-bye, Lullaby, Hush
Eriol lies, awake and miserable, on the far side of the bed. He's not used to arguing with Tomoyo and he doesn't like it. It's not really arguing, he knows. Not the way he's seen it done, anyway. It's more like disagreeing, a general dissatisfaction with the way things are. For the life of him, he has no idea why they're acting this way. Maybe it's just that the new apartment is still a little strange to them. Maybe the sudden changes in their lives have just shaken them and they'll be all right. The only thing Eriol knows at this moment is that he's cold and lonely lying so far from next to her.
Upset and unhappy, he doesn't realize that he's begun to hum a lullaby to himself. It's one that Tomoyo used to sing to him often, one that her mother had sung to her when she was a very little girl. But he's breaking the rules; he's not rocking.
She'd once said that the only stipulation with lullabies was that you needed to be rocking - time of day didn't matter, not even the fact that you might have just woken up and would be working all day mattered. They still don't own much furniture, certainly not a rocking chair, but she's always found places to sing lullabies to him. Often, it was on the trains. He smiles into the darkness, remembering those times.
He always stood behind her, holding her, shielding her from the press of the crowd. With his arms around her, with her fingers lacing with his, she would begin to sing quietly as the train so gently rocked them both. He thinks it probably sparked a lot of envy, their love, though he never really thought about it then. He was too wrapped up in her to notice that there was a rest of the world to be noticed.
He doesn't want to notice the rest of the world now. The rest of the world is asleep, curled warm around lovers or sweet smelling babies. The rest of the world is what he is not.
"Are you looking for a midnight trip?"
Tomoyo doesn't smile when she feels him start in surprise. He used to know if she was awake. 'I can feel it when you're thinking of me,' is how he explained it. She'd just assumed that he knew she was awake because he was staring hopefully at her as she slept. Being stared at as you sleep will wake anyone up, and usually faster than getting poked in the eye.
"What?" His voice is soft in the night, muffled because he isn't facing her.
"The Sandman. If he hears you, he'll come get you."
She can feel him still and wishes he'd simply rolled over to her. He isn't making a sound now, and she doesn't know what to make of that. Does it mean that he's still angry with her and doesn't want her to touch him? Or does he think that she only wants him to be quiet? Doesn't he realize that she's been awake all this time, too? How is she supposed to sleep without him practically on top of her?
She's tired and her heart hurts and she just wants to be close to him. To wrap herself around him and sleep, comfortable at last. She thinks he needs to hear a lullaby just as much as she needs to sing one right now. Somehow, life was easier when it was a lot harder. She sits up, moving towards the middle of the bed.
"Come here, and I'll protect us both." She promises. He doesn't move, and she reaches out to stroke the one bare shoulder she can see. "Come rock with me, Eriol? And we'll hide from the Sandman together." She slides her hand down his arm to find his hand, tugs on it. Obediently, he turns over and sits up.
Before he can move to hold her, she shifts around behind him, wraps around him. It's so warm where they touch. She lays her head against his shoulder and sings him the lullaby he was humming, swaying softly with its slow rhythm.
"Sleep, little pigeon,
And fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon
With velvet eyes;
Sleep to the singing"
Eriol joins her in the next few lines, which they have changed to suit them. Tomoyo is certainly not his mother, after all. Nor is he her 'little one.' But it's a lovely song even with their changes.
"Of lover-bird swinging
Swinging the nest
Where her darling one lies."
He feels her arms wrap around him, her hands coming up to rest over his heart. With the softest of sighs, he closes his own hands over them. He closes his eyes for a moment, concentrating on her voice, the smells of the room. This is one of those rare moments when everything is right. No matter what, it's right. They'll be okay.
"Away out yonder
I see a star,
Silvery star
With a tinkling song;
I hear it calling
Calling and tinkling
The night along.
In through the window
A moonbeam comes,
Eriol's eyes open again, and there are moonbeams coming through the window, as if called by the song. A few twisting ribbons of it dance over the walls and bed, silently dancing for him and Tomoyo.
Little gold moonbeam
With misty wings;
All silently creeping,
It asks: "Is he sleeping
Sleeping and dreaming
While lover sings?"…
He leans back into her, turning slightly to rest his forehead against hers. He's got a good voice, but he loves listening to hers, so he doesn't join her in the last verse. Content. This feeling is what that word means, he realizes. He's never had a better understanding of it.
But sleep, little pigeon,
And fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon
With mournful eyes;
Am I not singing? --
See, I am swinging --
Swinging the nest
Where my darling lies."
Tomoyo holds the last note, seeing it shiver through the air of the room and stir the moonbeams on the bed. Eriol seems as warm and relaxed as she feels. As she finishes, he turns around completely and, without a word, lays her down. She pulls him down with her, a light kiss waiting on her lips for him. Wordlessly yet, they settle deep into the pillows and blankets, tangling themselves in each other. When he opens his mouth to speak, she simply touches her lips to his again. Leaves them there in an almost kiss. She feels his mouth curve into that familiar boyish smile and watches his eyes close. Smiling a little herself, she follows him into dreams. They'll be okay.
