Disclaimer: I don't own D. Gray-man.
Chapter 21
Marie had stayed awake playing Noel Organon all night, if only to keep his mind occupied. By the time he decided it was time to at least lay down and maybe try to rest for awhile his finger tips were raw and bloody. It was difficult playing with two fingers missing. It came to his mind that he hadn't played since he had lost those fingers. He briefly wondered why Miranda had never come by; he had been looking forward to having some company. Reasonably, she had needed a rest for herself after she had worked so hard to comfort everyone.
Being careful to avoid brushing his fingers over anything and making them even more raw, he finally settled down.
Marie had easily discovered, after his eyes had been injured, that sleeping was difficult without being able to see if it was light or dark. He could lie awake some nights and not be able to fall asleep, and he could fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow on other nights. Recent events made sleeping no easier.
Even without his headphones sounds were an easy distraction. His own breathing always sounded magnified, not to mention the sound of people in the rooms near his. Pulses were also a disturbance on nights when he couldn't sleep. People walking down hallways away from his room sounded as if they were walking right outside of his door.
That night all of those sounds seemed to combine into the most unbearable combination. He wanted to start playing again to find a single sound to focus on, but he was afraid that just wasn't a possibility with the state he had left his hands in from playing for so long on end.
An hour of fruitless turning and he finally decided it was time to get up. The hallways were empty but far from silent for him. The cafeteria was a bit better, seeing as it was far from most of the bedrooms and offices of the Order. He knew Jerry was likely asleep, so he didn't bother him as he got a bowl and filled it with cold water. He soaked his fingers in the cool water, hoping to keep the raw areas from getting too severe. Almost every exorcist knew their way around the kitchen, and Jerry made sure to leave it the same for Marie's sake.
Someone coming in for a late night snack or getting food after returning late from a mission and not wanting to disrupt Jerry wasn't out of place and Marie was no different.
Marie was enjoying the silence of the room when he heard the door open. Without his headphones he couldn't hear the person's heart rate from across the room, but he could tell that it wasn't someone he was completely familiar with by their footsteps. He sat silently and simply continued to soak his fingers in the cold water. He only responded to anything when he heard quiet cursing from the kitchen, followed by a loud crash.
The loud, harsh noise of something falling over caused him to flinch for a moment, but he now knew who it was in the kitchen. Timothy. Marie was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he realized that, when Kanda first came to the European Branch, he sounded a lot like Timothy. They were both rather similar, he couldn't help thinking.
Not wanting Timothy to hurt himself Marie walked into the kitchen, "Timothy, do you need help with something?"
Ever the independent nine year old, Timothy quickly responded with, "No, I'm not some dumb little kid!" This was followed by the sound of him accidentally dropping something else.
"You're going to break something or hurt yourself. What do you need?" Marie could tell, from the tone of Timothy's voice, that the child had stuck his tongue out at him.
"Nothing, I'm just getting a snack," Timothy continued to stubbornly refuse the help.
"Just remember what happens to people who break things in the kitchen," there was no repercussions, but it was a good way to get stubborn people, like Timothy, or Kanda when he was younger, to accept help.
"Wait, what happens?" Timothy asked. His voice had that small, hidden tone of fear he always tried to hide.
"It's best that you don't know," Marie gave a shrug.
"Tell me, tell me!" Timothy demanded.
"You'll have to clean it up," Marie kept his serious tone and expression, as if that was the terrible punishment he had mentioned before.
"Really? That's all?" Timothy gave him an incredulous look. He was about to go back to trying to get whatever it was he wanted when Marie spoke again.
"I don't want to hear anything else fall, why don't you let me help you so you don't have to mess with any broken glass?"
"Fine, I'm trying to reach the bowls," they were a bit of a reach for even Marie, it was no surprise that someone as small as Timothy would have trouble. "I can't reach the ice cream in the freezer, either."
"Are you supposed to be eating ice cream this late?" Marie wouldn't tell that he was sneaking snacks, he just wanted to know if he was helping him with something he shouldn't be doing.
"Not really, Emilia says it'll make me sick, but it never has before," he pouted. When Marie got the large canister from the ice cream maker out of the freezer, Timothy snatched it and scampered over to the counter across the room. There had been ice cream sitting around ever since Timothy had shown up; Marie, it appeared, wasn't the only person who was helping him with his little snack raids.
"If you eat too much, it might. Just don't eat more than one bowl at night," he said.
"You're bossy. Almost as annoying as Emilia," of course that wasn't really how Timothy thought of Emilia, but he had dignity to protect.
"That's not very nice, now is it?" he hummed softly and closed the cabinet that the bowls had been in. Once Timothy had gotten his ice cream and ran into the cafeteria to eat, Marie put the remaining ice cream back and went back to continue soaking his fingers in the cold water. They were beginning to feel a little bit better.
"Why are you up this late?" Timothy asked after a little while. It seemed he was talkative, as usual. The child just couldn't stand silence.
"I couldn't sleep. There were too many sounds keeping me awake," Marie answered simply. He didn't want to mention how poorly everyone was doing to Timothy; it was best to let the child be peacefully oblivious.
"Even without those headphone things?" Timothy asked. He didn't comment on Marie's current lack of the headphones.
"Yes, even without them, things can be overwhelming," Marie nodded, "Most nights I can ignore it, but sometimes it's too difficult to ignore everything or block it out."
"It's good that you can usually ignore it. Why can't you tonight?" Timothy asked with a mouth full of ice cream.
"I just have too much I'm thinking about," Marie explained with a soft sigh, "I'm sorry to seem abrupt, but could we possibly talk about something else?"
"Sure," Timothy had finished his ice cream, "Actually, I'm going back to sleep. Hope you can sleep soon, too. If you don't sleep enough Emilia might start griping at you about not being responsible."
"I'll be sure to get enough sleep. Sleep well, yourself, Timothy," Marie enjoyed the silence of the cafeteria after he had left. The sounds were a little less concentrated now that there weren't occupied rooms on every side of him. The library was much more quiet, but he didn't particularly want to go all the way there. Besides, if he overslept in there he might worry Miranda if she couldn't find him. He didn't want to put her through that stress.
Eventually, Marie rested his head on the table. He felt insecure without his headphones, as if they had become some type of shield for him. Despite that feeling of vulnerability, he managed to fall asleep. It was a restless sleep, though, and it was plagued with half-dreams that left him feeling even more drained when he was accidentally awoken by a cup of coffee being set on the table near him.
He lifted his head off of the table and took a moment to focus. Soon he was able to tell the person who had set the cup down, it had been obvious she was trying to be quiet and not wake him, was Miranda.
"Sorry," she whispered quietly, "I-I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just going to leave that there for you whenever you woke up. Do you want me to get you anything else?"
"No, thank you, though," he replied drowsily. His thoughts were sluggish in coming, at the moment. He was still half asleep.
Miranda sat beside him. "You didn't look like you were sleeping very well," she said softly. Her own voice was tired. "And your fingers look like they hurt. How long did you play, last night?"
"I only played for a few hours. It's just been awhile since I did that. My fingers aren't bleeding, are they?" if he really tried, he would be able to tell. He just didn't want to put forth that effort.
"No, they're just raw. Do you want me to go get you something to put on them from the medical wing?" she carefully moved his hand from the bowl of water. It was no longer cold, just causing his finger tips to wrinkle. She set his hand on the table.
"No, if it gets too bothersome I can go get them looked at. It should be fine, I've done this before," he assured. He carefully caught one of her hands and held it. "Thank you for worrying about me so much. It means a lot to know I have someone who cares enough to go so out of their way to make sure that I'm doing well. Just make sure to care for yourself, too."
"I will, don't worry," she assured softly. She leaned against him, "Do you feel like you could eat anything? I might get up and make myself some breakfast, since Jerry isn't up yet."
"I'm not hungry. I'll wait for him to wake up. Do you know what time it is?" it must have been early for Jerry to still be sleeping.
"Oh, maybe four thirty. It will probably be awhile before anyone is awake. Marie, why were you sleeping in here?" Miranda seemed to be as concerned about him as always, or as had become usual over the past few days.
"I needed somewhere quiet. I figured you might panic if I fell asleep in the library and you didn't think to look there," he answered. And he was just as worried for her as always, too.
"You should have just gone to the library, then," she felt bad that he had stayed in there to avoid worrying her.
"I wouldn't have slept much better in there than I did in here," he explained, "It wouldn't have done much good, if I had. I will next time, though, if I think it might help."
"You should. Sleep is important," those words of wisdom were coming from an insomniac who seemed to have trouble finding sleep herself, most nights. "If you can't sleep, though, maybe we can stay up together. It's lonely when it seems the rest of the world is asleep. Maybe not even to talk, but just know that someone else is awake."
"That sounds nice," Marie nodded slightly. "I will consider it, next time." He gave a tired sigh and moved his hand across the table until it hit the cup of coffee. He picked it up and took a small sip.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading!
