Title: Nightmares and Dreamscapes- Chapter 22/23(?)
Fandom: Lazytown
Pairing: Sportacus/Robbie
Rating: T/M
Summary: There is no such thing as magic...right? However, when Robbie starts noticing something strange about Sportacus and unusual things start occurring in Lazytown, that belief just might have to be changed.
Author's Notes: I love you guys. All of you. Furrel like. And I think this is the second to last chapter.
His breath locked up in his chest, creating a tight ball of tension. No. It couldn't have worked out like this. Robbie needed to come back. He drew his thumb over the smooth cheek again. "Robbie?" he asked again softly, wishing that the eyes would flutter open and the stormy grey would focus on him.
He pushed all the frustration and focused on his reserves of magic. It was completely empty, just as Robbie apparently was. If only he had enough magic left, he could go back, find Robbie again, try again and again and again until Robbie was awake by his side.
He faintly recalled the tales of the sleeping princess his mamma had once told him. Would a kiss really wake Robbie, he wondered. Just as quickly, he pushed the question and instead dove deep into his empty wells of magic, searching…and stopped.
There…there was the faintest tendril of magic deep at the bottom, deep where the dregs of rainfall and crystal and shards of sky lingered. This lightest wisp of magic spiraled out, twisting farther and farther and farther…
He chased along that wisp of magic and found the end, faint, disappearing into nothing. Lightly, he pulled on the magic. It gave way to the tug and then snapped back to its place within seconds. He pulled again, harder this time, concentration slipping as his desperation ratcheted higher and higher. The magic gave way once again…and then the thread completely snapped.
The last bits of magic sunk deep into him, flash-bright and sharp. In pain and frustration, he let out a low, worried curse. For a moment worry curled low in his gut with the thought that he had broken the magical tie between him and Robbie.
Then, outside of himself, there came the groan.
Despite the thorns of pain in his temples, he opened his eyes to the brightness of the sterile hospital room. Robbie had one hand up, fingers pressed roughly to his brow.
"What did you do to me, Sportacus?" he asked in a rasp.
Sportacus was too relieved to see Robbie actually awake to notice that Robbie had called him by his real name. He was still for a long moment and then shakily reached out with one hand to grasp the fingers lying against the pale brow. As he pulled the slender fingers away from Robbie's face, the grey eyes stared at him, the emotion in them quiet.
Sportacus pressed the slim hand in both of his and looked down at it. The pads of the fingers were rough against his skin, the back of the hand smooth and soft; it seemed more fragile in his hands, as if Robbie's bones would break in his grip. "Are you okay?" he asked the pale hand.
Robbie remained silent for a moment. Then, in his usual brash voice—though it was quieter than normal—he said, "Of course I'm fine, Sportaflop. I was just in my own head for a while."
Sportacus said nothing, merely bowing his head a little more. He had come so close to losing Robbie…too close.
The fingers twitched against his and then curled around his hand in a tight grasp. "I'm fine, Sportacus," Robbie said in a whisper. It seemed to echo against the corners of the hospital room and rebounded in Sportacus's mind.
Sportacus brought the pale hand up and laid a faint kiss on the bony knuckles. The fingers tightened even more around his.
"I almost lost you," Sportacus murmured. He felt the sudden of sting of tears and closed his eyes against them. "That svartàlfar…" Warmth slid down his cheek and he firmed his mouth against all the other words that wanted to jump out.
Another set of rough fingers brushed the lone tear away, lingered against his cheek. Then it moved away and Robbie repeated, "I'm fine." The words were softer now, gentler. It may have been from sleep setting in or…maybe there was something else…
Sportacus pressed the back of the hand to his cheek and simply concentrated on the warmth of it against him. Robbie was alive, was awake, was here.
An indeterminable amount of time passed, Sportacus counting the beats of the pulse in the thin wrist.
When he did finally move and opened his eyes, Robbie was sleeping again. For a second, anxiety curled low in his gut, energy suddenly pumping through his veins. If Robbie were locked in his mind again…
But then he saw the flutter of lashes, the easy breathing, the twitch of fingers, the slight movements, and he let out a sigh of relief. He released his tight grip on Robbie's hand and slowly, gently, set it down on the pale sheets of the bed. Still asleep, Robbie shifted, moving deeper into his pillow.
Sportacus stood, stretching, and looked out the window. The sun was still high, light spearing through the glass and landing at an angle in the room. It…it didn't look that late. Had he really spent all that time in Robbie's mind and have only a few hours pass? He threw a contemplative glance at Robbie.
He bent at the waist and pressed a kiss to Robbie's brow, wrapping that tiny shredded bit of magical tie up and smoothing it over Robbie in a charm. "Sweet dreams," Sportacus whispered, feeling the magic drain out of him. Standing again, Sportacus walked out of the room. He had to get out of the sterility and into nature; his magic needed to come back.
The next day, a bewildered Mayor Meanswell addressed the children of Lazytown. A group of baffled doctors had checked up on Mr. Rotten and had found him completely well, as if he hadn't been in the grips of comatose state for the past week. He seemed completely healthy. Robbie Rotten was coming home.
The children cheered happily at this. However when Mayor Meanswell asked them if they had seen Sportacus so he could be told, the children told the Mayor that they hadn't seen him since the day before. They shrugged it off and told the Mayor that they would tell him about Robbie when they saw him.