Work Text:
Pico had lots of trouble resting easily if he chose to rest at all.
That's to say he has insomnia.
Insomnia that kept him on guard at all times of the night. After all, it was the perfect time for would-be-assailants to, say...
Slide open his window and slide a gun barrel through.
Pico's gaze snapped to the glass panes. Moonlight shone through them, doing little to calm his nerves. His body lay shot and stiff under the blankets, his gun clenched tightly in his hand, the safety more than easy to flick to off.
Well, there wasn't anyone at the window. That was a good thing. But that didn't stop anyone from, y'know...
Approaching guns drawn from his closet.
His eyes promptly glossed over the door, which was shut tight. And boarded up, out of his own paranoia.
Alright, so, the closet wasn't an issue. But his bedroom door wasn't boarded. Nor did it have a lock. It gave someone the perfect opportunity to break him and take him out.
A quick glance to the door once again proved him wrong.
Pico had been transitioning between openings for hours. He wouldn't be able to relax even if someone were to drug him.
...
He sat up.
He was sick of this shit. Fucking schizophrenia. Fucking hell. Or is it the PTSD? I can't even fucking tell anymore.
Pico stood up and scowled at his window, then tossed his gun onto the bed. He began to rifle through his dresser drawers to throw something normal on.
So goddamn sick of this shit. I'll deal with this. I'll make sure it'll take the greatest lockpicker in the state to get into the room. That'll make me feel better, right? Nobody will be able to goddamn get in. I'll layer every goddamn entry in five locks. Nah, fuckin' ten!
Throwing on a black hoodie and pants, he snatched up his gun--then flicking the safety off, knowing he'd have his hands on it while walking--and stomped out the door.
-=𒉼=-
It took him a grand total of three hours to sneak past all of the security cameras and pick every lock that stood in his way. But, at the end of the day, he'd gotten what he needed from the local ghetto-ass hardware store. Several latches, locks, screws, and doorstops were now filling his pockets.
Look, Pico wasn't the brightest guy when it came to psychology. But theoretically, eliminating the source of his anxiety and sleepless nights should allow him to sleep. Right?
Putting twenty locks on his window and doors should put him at ease. Right? Since nobody will be able to get in. Yeah?
Yeah.
-=𒉼=-
So, now Pico was doing a bit of handiwork, screwing the latches into place and praying to the souls he harvested above that he was fucking right about this. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep was so nice and peaceful and he couldn't fucking get it, he could only get any when he was with his boyfriend.
Speaking of boyfriend, he was on a video call, eating his breakfast with his sound lowered (the drill was obnoxious).
"[How long have you been working?]" he said, shoveling another spoonful of what could only be the equivalent of raw cane sugar into his mouth.
Pico had been trying to get an ancient power drill he owned to work, which then brought up problems ("What do you fucking mean this thing runs on batteries? How old is this scrapbox?"), which brought up even more problems ("I shoplifted all that shit because I'm broke! I can't afford batteries! I'm gonna blam this fucking thing!").
"... Fucking hours, dude. I haven't been keeping track. But it'll be worth it in the end, at least I think so." Boyfriend hummed quietly and waved his spoon at his phone. "[I didn't even know you had insomnia. You sleep like a little baby when you're over here. It's adorable,]" he smiled. Pico snorted as he felt his face heat up. "Yeah, yeah. Well, it's like the only time I get to sleep, so I need to fix that."
Boyfriend nodded, scrolling down a news website absentmindedly. "[By the way I'm very curious. What do you usually sleep in at night? You've hinted that you wear pajamas but at my place, you almost always end up nak-]"
"Oh my god shut up immediately I do not need to think about dick right now. I'm trying to cure my wack-ass brain fungus."
Boyfriend let out a small wheeze, returning the spoon to his cereal bowl. "[Brain fungus? Is that what you call mental illness?]" "Only mine, and to answer your dumb question I wear onesies. Particularly dino ones. They're cozy."
-=𒉼=-
Ah, well. His plan kind of worked.
His window and bedroom door now had so many locks on them it'd take him like ten minutes to unlock them all. It was somewhat comforting knowing it'd take even him ages to try to get in, and unless the person on the other side had a laser-cutter, it'd take them a ridiculous amount of time to finally bust through the door. I'd be awake and long gone before then.
He still had schizophrenia, however, and his schizophrenia was telling him that evil things hide within the darkness.
Whatever the fuck THAT meant, he was inclined to believe it.
So, he was a lot more at ease regarding the door and window. But now he had his covers pulled up over his head, his body curled into a tight ball, trying his best to block out the goddamn darkness. Protect himself from the unseen horrors.
Fucking hell, man!
-=𒉼=-
"[You... You tried to block out the darkness... By hiding under the covers... Where it is dark,]" Boyfriend slowly beeped, trying to understand the logic along the way. Pico tiredly watched his face contort in confusion. He hadn't slept in three days; the exhaustion was catching up to him.
Pico laid his head in his hands in exasperation. "Yes."
Boyfriend looked over his face through his screen, noting his half-lidded eyes and dark rings. Despite looking like a fucking ginger vampire, he could detect a hint of disappointment in his expression.
"[... Why don't you just get a nightlight?]"
Pico blinked slowly, looking down at the table. "I'unno. I think I'm too old for 'em." Boyfriend scoffed. "[I have one to help with my own shit! It's light blue. Lights up the room very nicely. I even have an extra I could let you borrow, man. You're never too old for comfort.]"
Pico's complexion softened. He's right.
"Alright, maybe. Want me to come pick it up? We could hang out for a bit."
Boyfriend shook his head. "[Sorry, can't hang. I'm spending the night at GF's. But, I can drop it off when I pass your house?]" he offered, which was good enough for Pico. Besides, he'd rather not get in the way of his boyfriend's relationship with Girlfriend.
"Sounds good. I'll be... I'unno, jerkin' off or some shit."
"[Without me?]"
"Perv."
-=𒉼=-
Boyfriend and his dumb nightlight were fucking blessings sent from the heavens. Pico fell asleep. For more than a minute.
His sleep schedule was still spotty. He'd jolt awake with his adrenaline rushing at times--nightmares were still a problem. But he went unconscious.
Pico woke up and felt like crying tears of joy. He felt rested. He didn't have a massive headache. It's amazing how 6 hours of sleep can affect a motherfucker.
Checking the time, it was 07:42. Surely, Boyfriend is awake.
Oh, wait, no, he's at Girlfriend's.
So, instead, he opted to text him, rather than VC. He quickly snapped a selfie of himself with the brightest fucking grin in the world.
[oh_shit!!.png]
YO I FUCKING FELL ASLEEP
Dickhead I have no idea how
your dumb little light worked
But it did
And I couldn't be goddamn happier
DAMN
i am the smartest man in the world.
its official
Ok don't get ahead of yourself
btw ur onesie is adorable.
thats like the cutest thing
ive ever seen you wear
Wow I get the best sleep I've had
in actual
years and you go
"nice pjs homie"
i have adhd, i see something i
say something
That's an advertising slogan.
i am going back to sleep. love you