Fic: and the dark settles [Hades, ChaHyp, Fluff]

[quillpunk]

• Rating: T
• Categories: M/M, Gen
• Fandom: Hades (video Game 2018)
• Relationship: Chaos/Hypnos
• Characters: Hypnos, Chaos
• Additional Tags: Ficlet, First Meetings, Pre-Slash, Pre-Relationship
• Status: Complete
• Wordcount: 1101
• Published on AO3: 2021-09-17

Notes: Translation into Русский available by Lord_Naos on AO3

Disclaimer: I do not own Hades the video game or any associated trademarks.

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So Hypnos got lost.

It's not actually a rare thing. In the first place, directions don't really exist in dreams. You can certainly go up and down and left and right, but do those concepts even exist in dreams? Are you sure you're remembering which way is right? Did you mark the passages? Do the passages even exist after you've passed through them?

Just because you think you're going in those directions doesn't mean you actually are. Dreams are fickle and prone to change and they don't abide by the rules of reality.

So Hypnos got lost. He's not worried about this, like he said, it's happened before. Dreams blur, and they lead him astray and that's just fine. It's a part of him, and never something that he felt inconvenienced by—he sleeps a lot of the time anyway, so no one even usually notices.

This time, like all others, was an accident. Hypnos walked too far, turned too much, and now here he is. Lost. Alone. In another dimension altogether, it seems. One very dark, and disorienting. And he can't quite place the smell, but it's certainly very overwhelming in an absence of all other smells kind of way.

"Hello," Hypnos calls out into the darkness he's now found himself in. He scrunches up his nose as he looks around, trying to force the realm into some kind of up and down, side to side directions thing. It's not going very well; the place clearly doesn't want them. He's not entirely certain he isn't standing upside down, but equally uncertain he's not walking backward, but with his feet stepping forwards. It's all very odd.

"I'm sorry for intruding," he adds, because it's never a mistake to be polite. Tilting his head back as far as it goes, he tries to see something. So far it's all been very structureless, very free-flowing. Which isn't bad! It just means that Hypnos can't quite tell if he's moved at all since he entered here. Because he's alone, and he hasn't been sleeping well lately (due to a certain prince on a certain self-imposed mission) he babbles into the void around him, "I got lost, you see, and this is a very confusing place. You should really consider putting up a few signs for directions!"

He waits. There isn't a response, which isn't automatically a bad thing. No response means that his babbling didn't get a negative reaction either—which it sometimes does, sometimes to some not very nice effects—so Hypnos does not yet feel like he's overstayed his welcome. He does that sometimes, he knows, but he's really only been here for a few minutes. Or weeks, he can't tell. Regardless, it's not yet to the point where he feels unwelcome.

He keeps walking. There's not precisely a lot more he can do in this situation. He's been sleep-deprived lately so he's not about to wake up unless he really needs to, and though a god he may be, he's not a god of directions.

So aimless walking it is.

Hypnos whistles as he goes, a jaunty tune that he composed himself. It keeps his spirit up while the surroundings are so drab and dark, and he keeps his eyes aimed ahead. And sure, he has no idea where he's going or if he's going anywhere at all, but it's altogether not a bad trip. Nothing's tried to murder him yet, no traps have been strung, the smell is nice, the darkness is easy on his eyes.

The change when he comes upon a structure is not a change at all. In fact, the structure has always been there, Hypnos just hasn't been able to perceive it. Or that's what it feels like. It's a very strange place to try to prescribe logic to, this realm, and Hypnos is kind of getting sick of trying. It's clearly not doing a lot of good.

But the structure is nice! There's unfortunately no bed, and it all seems to be solid rock when he steps foot on it, but beggars can't be choosers.

Hypnos walks further onto the stone platform and says, "My name is Hypnos." He waits a moment but there's no answer. Pushing up his eye cover, he hums. "Can I presume I am in the presence of Grandparent Chaos?"

"Son of Nyx," the overpowering, overwhelming, discordant voice coming from all directions says. "You are lost," it remarks with no particular emotion.

Hypnos spins around, trying to get a glimpse of his elusive grandparent; the one he's not allowed to speak of, the one no one has been in contact with in ages. There is no hint to be seen though, so he pouts and crosses his arms, floating up higher. "I am lost," he admits. It's a virtue to be able to acknowledge your flaws, he thinks. It's certainly something a few people in his life could do more of.

"You did not mean to come here," Chaos says, the voice somehow containing multiple layers of sound.

Hypnos nods. "Nope! But it's a very cool place you've got here, I don't regret visiting. Very consistent decorating!"

The darkness compresses and then relaxes. The visage of Chaos steps out of the dark, the bottom half of their body still hidden—or maybe dissolved? To be fair, nobody has actually told him how Chaos' existence works, much less described how they look. All Hypnos really knows is that they created the universe and then retreated to a realm of their own; this realm, probably. That Hypnos accidentally intruded upon. ...Oops?

"I do not fault those who are lost," says Chaos. They come closer, their large visage easily twice the size of Hypnos. Hypnos gulps somewhat, hiding it behind a hand. Like this, with their presence looming over Hypnos, it really does make something squeeze low in his belly.

Valiantly ignoring it, Hypnos waves his other hand, "Gosh, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're happy to see me!"

"I am always happy to see my creations, even the one I did not directly make," Chaos responds, and really, that's just too cruel. Pretty words like will make his stomach flutter and his chest warm. Hypnos nearly feels like swooning and then does so just to be dramatic. Chaos doesn't scold him for being unprofessional, or taking things too easy, or being overdramatic. The ancient being, the very first existence that shaped the universe itself, merely looks at him.

And Hypnos feels almost fuzzy with the attention. So he grins, and he keeps talking, and the dream goes on. And Chaos listens.