Grounding

Being held is the sweetest thing.

Discovering that was a journey, part of the long road to acceptance he had to walk. He won't deny he was vicious and cruel at the beginning—he still doesn't understand what else he could have been, all things considered. He'd been evil, and also hurt, abandoned, torn from the heart he made his home and traumatized. He'd been the puppet as much as the puppeteer, and had to crawl and claw his way to being neither. 

It was Ventus he expected to heal him, his light bright enough to burn all Vanitas's shadows to nothing. He didn't though. Instead, Ventus set the firmest boundaries—the ones Vanitas couldn't break, the ones that ensured he would never see Ventus again if he did—and told him that they'd, "...come down when I'm ready." Until then he'd had to cope with the fact there's a wall between them, had to deal with the words that echoed through his head.

"I told you I didn't want to be with you once and you merged with me anyway. The next time I offered to take you back and you refused. You hurt me Vanitas and worse, you hurt my friends. Now you're trying, and I want to be with you—maybe one day I will be—but not until you're better. The others are here to help you, but I still don't trust you. I don't trust you not to use me again. I don't trust you not to use me to hurt them again."

It made sense and Vanitas accepted it, though not before he'd strangled several Floods, not before he'd crushed them into ooze that slipped through his fingers and merged with him again. Not before he'd screamed and torn apart everything in his new room, not before he'd tried to claw the skin from his body, the body from his heart, his heart from existence.

He thought he'd fail, if he was honest. Ventus's decision—to protect them both, he understands now—had made him so angry, angry at him, angry at his friends, angry at himself. Still they'd all tried. Sora had tried, everyone had tried, even Ventus—and how hard it had been, not to mock his fear, not to call him Venty-Wenty and remind him how easy he'd been to control, to own—tried, but Vanitas hadn't believed for a second he could be anything more than the spawn of darkness he was. He was failure, fear, sorrow, rage. He was disgusting, and that was all he would ever be to anyone, to everyone, to himself.

Even when they'd told him he wasn't disgusting he hadn't believed it. It took him so, so long to understand they were telling the truth.

So in the time that followed he crept between isolating himself and causing them trouble. He didn't hurt them—even when he wanted to, and oh, how he wanted to—but he made mischief, played pranks, expressed the hate inside him through games, black humor, and theft instead of violence, murder and the deep desire to die—to cease.

Yet it isn't that which saved him, although he supposes it kept him alive long enough for it to happen. No, it wasn't making trouble, but getting caught. 

Of all things, he thinks, I'd never thought it'd be that.

It'd happened during a trip to Radiant Garden. Ienzo's special sandwich had just been sitting there; defenseless, nutritious, delicious, practically begging for him to take it. He'd snuck into the laboratory kitchen and snatched it right off the bench, made to creep back through the basement—except Aeleus was there.

He'd run, sprinted through the basement and up into the halls because Aeleus was big and terrifying and Vanitas wasn't allowed in the lab—was definitely not allowed to be stealing Ienzo's sandwiches—but somehow Aeleus had been faster. Vanitas had choked, gasped when giant hands wrapped around him, captured him in such a way he couldn't move, couldn't think as he was drawn close. He'd been caught before he could slip away and it took everything not to let the Unversed out, not to—

Then his mind melted. He couldn't explain it, not really, that sudden shift. One second he'd panicked, expected pain, expected the sort of battering he hadn't received in a long while, but no. Instead it'd been like pus lanced from a wound, fear and pain draining from his body as Aeleus turned him. Vanitas's head had been set upon his shoulder, one hand around his back, the other underneath him, cradling him against Aeleus's body. There was a surge of shame for just a second, then Aeleus muttered something about his arms and Vanitas understood, hugged Aeleus's neck.

It felt good. It felt amazing. 

He didn't care that others could see him then, didn't care that everyone turned and looked when Aeleus returned to the basement. Briefly, he feared he might be in for a lecture, but no, Aeleus only tried to put him down. Vanitas, master of mischief, hung on, but Aeleus just waited.

It's then he says it—his first and truest, "Please."

There's silence, and Vanitas thought he might be doomed, done for, that they'd mock him and cast him out for good. He felt the negativity welling inside him, ready to make itself known to the world.

Instead Aeleus hummed and lifted him back into his arms. "I can work like this," he said, as much to himself as anyone else. "Ienzo, he stole another one of your sandwiches."

Ienzo scowled—and Vanitas shouldn't have been so proud to get a cuss out of him—much to Ansem's distress and Dilan's amusement, but he only spun on his heel to go make another. There was no moment when Ienzo demanded Vanitas leave, no teasing from the others as he settled in Aeleus's lap, legs straddling one of his thighs, one large hand holding him in place.

"Fascinating," Even commented, "but perhaps that's what the boy needs; something to ground him, so his mind isn't so inclined to plunge into the abyss." There was the sound of buttons, applications opened and notes made. "Do you feel better, Vanitas?"

"Maybe," Vanitas murmured, half-asleep. In the distance he heard laughter, but it was warm, kind, like nothing he'd ever heard in all his life.

From then on he became a frequent guest of Radiant Garden, if only because Aeleus and Dilan were content to let him sit with them. They were big, but also warm and safe, and somehow their hugs had the power to hold him together. As time passed he tried sitting with Ansem and Even too. The former was pleasant, grandfatherly in a way Xehanort never was, while the latter was half bones and half broad, but somehow never brawn. Despite that, there was some affection to be found in his frame.

"He puts the cream in ice cream," Ansem joked once. "Cold yet sweet." Even had gone bright red, and the troublemaker in Vanitas delighted in making him redder.

"Sure is," he said, and watched Even's face catch fire.

During his visits he never hugged Ienzo. Vanitas was willing, but the other wasn't. In time he understood why. He picked up just how hard he worked—on both his research and his sandwiches—and somehow, without any lectures or lesson-learning, he began to understand why it might be unkind to steal his lunch—or his midnight snack, if everyone was honest about the hours they kept.

He was introduced to the Restoration Committee and hugged them all in turn. If they were baffled, so was he, but he asked and they said yes and didn't seem to mind much anyway. He learned a little of their personalities through how they touched him, a little of their kindness.

He took a bunch of souvenirs from them to Destiny Islands, where he received hugs from Riku and Sora, Kairi and Naminé, and their local beach brawler friends. Riku's hugs were firm but full of love—though Vanitas thought that more an aspect of Riku than some deep-seated affection for him—while Sora's were love, and also messy, bodily things. Kairi's were warm and Naminé's were delicate, but both were sweet and full of light, and each one of the beach brawlers was wild in their own way.

The Riku Replica was there too. It was strange embracing him, knowing his Dark counterpart lingered somewhere deep inside his heart. His touch was kind though, protective but never rough. Knowing just how chaotic he could be put in perspective just how much he had changed and grown. "You became a softie, huh?" Vanitas laughed.

"You're not so tough yourself," Riku teased, ruffled his hair. Vanitas didn't know why he let him get away with it, but he did.

From there he reported to Yen Sid, an activity that always stressed him out. Yen Sid wasn't exactly unfair, but he was a homebody who'd never been very social nor made a habit of mincing words. He was more likely to be firm with the exuberant but positive members of their group though, which meant he was gentler—though certainly not a pushover—with those who'd struggled with darkness.

Still, visiting him always made Vanitas feel heavy. It was a surprise then when the wizard himself asked Goofy to ease his anxiety, the knight happily obliging when Vanitas let him. Yen Sid had no intention of ceasing their debrief, however, so Vanitas just stood and listened and let Goofy give him the loveliest hug, all while Donald and Mickey talked away. He tried not to feel embarrassed when they got all their Data companions and Chip and Dale on the Gummiphone, tried not to laugh when they sent him various images, emoticons, and text as a way to give their own hugs, mimed the actions without shame.

When he stopped by Disney Castle they gave him hugs for real—except those that were data—then parted to let Queen Minnie and her Lady-in-Waiting have a turn. That really left him flailing, which had Daisy lecture him on good posture and behavior—right before she started haranguing Donald. The two engaged in their obligatory back and forth while Mickey introduced him to Pluto.

And, well, there's nothing quite like being leaped on and licked by a dog. Nothing. 

Although if my Floods had been happy creatures then maybe they'd have been like that, he wonders, sighs, and remembers more.

He went to Twilight Town to learn and make friends with Roxas, Axel, Xion, and Isa, and their entourage of local friends. Though it wasn't unusual by then for Vanitas to give hugs as greeting, he restrained himself. Roxas looked too much like Ventus, and though he'd worked with Xion and Isa—well, his Nobody—he didn't know Axel or the others very well. Not that I've known anyone well, he'd thought.

Still with time came trust, and with trust came hugs. When things got too much they were happy to hold him. The Twilight Town folk each had their own way of hugging;  Hayner rowdy, Pence soft, Olette tight. The Disciplinary Gang—sorry, Committee—weren't around, though Olette said they'd hug him when they returned.

Meanwhile Axel was like fire and Isa like moonlight, and Roxas and Xion were somehow both different from Sora and each other, and yet all alike. Like puppies, he'd thought, with unique personalities. Still it made him wonder how anyone could have ever thought them replaceable when each embrace was so their own. 

It'd made him wonder what sort of hugs he gave. If he was like Sora or Ventus or someone completely different?

Or if he was like sludge and slime and horror, everyone too kind to tell him he was terrible? 

He found out not long after when he finally returned to the Land of Departure. Sora went with him, assigned each other's partner on a mission. They'd been to so many worlds, and Vanitas had received affection on each and every one. He'd been shocked by forgiveness when he'd told the story of the Unversed, shocked by kindness where he had no reason to expect it. Not everyone was welcoming, but even then they'd simply kept their distance.

"If someone's walking the road to being well then there's no good in blocking the way!" Sora exclaimed. "You've done bad things Vanitas, but everyone can see how much you were hurt and how hard you're working to be good again. I haven't seen an Unversed in ages and I know things have gotta be hard for you. I'd forgive you though, if you made one. Even I feel bad sometimes, so I get it."

Those words were a comfort, much needed when returning to the land where Ventus waited. Yet when he arrived and asked if Terra and Aqua could hug him there was no protest, no complaints. The two of them, and Ventus's Chirithy, all wrapped him up in a big embrace. Terra was warm and big, felt like the earth and a gentle flame. Aqua's soothed like a kiss from the rain. He was cruel to both of them, and now, only now, does that make him want to cry. No Unversed burst from him though. I wonder why these tears aren't like all the hateful ones before them?

Ventus's Chirithy had no answers, but he was soft and very cuddly, a little like Pooh and a little like Sully—who'd been an interesting one to hug, that's for sure.

And then there'd been Ventus. Ven.

He'd stood there, staring at Vanitas from across the grassy landing. He could've waited upon high and looked down, but he didn't. He strode over to Vanitas and, without a word, opened his arms. Vanitas fell into them.

His hug was tight, and yet something about Ven always felt light—not like the sun, but maybe stars and a breeze. There was something airy to him, a feeling a little like floating away. It wasn't an emotion that would have been good for him in the beginning, but now he knew how to stand it felt alright to let his head drift up into the clouds.

It was sweet. He never realized there'd be a day when he could hold Ven and love him, and yet not feel the need to merge with him. He wasn't sure they could, anymore.

When he stepped back Ven murmured, "They're nice."

"What is?" He'd asked.

"Your hugs." Ven smiled. "They're like summer nights looking at stars—that feeling when the sky is deep blue and shining. It makes you believe anything is possible, y'know?"

Terra and Aqua jostled him, teased him about stealing Terra's lines and being sappy. Sora and Chirity joined them, ribbing Ven until he turned red. It all washed past Vanitas though, and instead every hug, every hold, every embrace rushed back to him and filled his heart with—with something?

And there it was; a tiny creature, so like a Flood but not.

A hush fell over the group as everyone turned, stared. Fear rose in Vanitas's chest, but before anything could happen the creature moved, rushing over to the others and throwing itself on the ground, rolling this way and that. Pink, gold, and white all shimmered in the light as it begged for hugs and tummy rubs, kicking its legs like a puppy.

"Oh!" Sora exclaimed. "That's so cute!"

Vanitas blushed when the others chorused their agreement.

The memory makes him smile as he lands his Gummi Ship near the castle in Radiant Garden. He's just been to all the people he knows, to hold them and thank them for all they've given him. They hug him, and he's no longer embarrassed by the creatures that spring forth. They bring delight wherever they go, dressed in all shades; sweet pastels and indigo nights, bright neon hues, pitch blacks and stark whites. What they all have in common is glitter, a shine and sparkle that few things can match, and the joy they bring when held is unparalleled—

Well, that's not quite true, but his Versed are pretty fun to snuggle with if he says so himself.

Now though, he has someone to thank. While he says it to each friend he encounters in the castle, he has one special person in mind. As expected, he's in the basement. Unexpected, though, might be the word to describe their bond. Still, it's one Vanitas is so very grateful for. If it weren't for his show of kindness, that moment when someone chose to hold him, not hurt him, he wonders how much longer his healing might have taken.

He greets Aeleus with no words, just a hug. A tiny Versed pops into existence on the floor. They both laugh—Vanitas light and Aeleus deep—as it runs around the room spreading light and joy. That might also be due to the sandwiches Vanitas brought, all his tests and experiments before these final masterpieces currently inside Ventus and Aqua and Terra's stomachs. Not that they minded. I've gotten good.

As Ienzo stuffs his face, Ansem, Even, and Dilan all a little more restrained in their consumption, Vanitas turns back to Aeleus. The noise and chatter fades as Aeleus hugs him, makes sure he feels safe and warm and loved.

"Thank you," Vanitas whispers into his shoulder. "Thank you for being kind."

"I just thought you could use some grounding," his voice rumbles through Vanitas's body. "I spend so much time with people who keep their heads in books and computers, clouds, always clouds. Even Dilan spends half his time philosophizing about love and loyalty." He pauses, rubs Vanitas's back. "Besides, I know what it's like to fall into darkness. I know what it's like to not have a heart. There was a time I would have done the wrong thing, but that time has passed. I'm glad I could help you, Vanitas."

It's a lot of words for Aeleus. They're soothing though, and Vanitas can't help but squeeze him tight. "Thank you. Thank you for grounding me. It was—everything I needed."

And though Aeleus says no more, Vanitas doesn't mind. After all, a hug speaks volumes, and right now his is saying the sweetest things.