#krypt.fic

There are some days when Bash feels like absolute crap.

It's those days where his ego and stupid confidence sheds a little. He's tired, sore, and feels an ache in his chest.

It's already noon, and he hasn't gotten out of bed yet.

Sluggishly, he got up, blanket still wrapped around him as he padded over to the living room.

Pico sat there, watching TV. He turned to greet Bash, only for the blue-haired man to flop on top of him like a giant cuddly dog.

"Ah shiOOF-!!" Pico fell back into the cushions and Bash snuggled up to him, his body incredibly warm against Pico's slightly colder body. He was basically a furnace. A blessing in the winter, but hell to cuddle in the summer.

Pico sighed as he resigned. He couldn't be mad when his boyfriend looked so cute. The mercenary gently ran his fingers through Bash's hair, staring at him with fond eyes and a loving smile. The singer murmured softly, nuzzling into Pico's sweater and taking a deep, comfortable breath to take in his scent.

Bash's cheeks were cupped by Pico's cold hands, and he leaned into the ginger's touch. It was soothing, and he was slowly waking up thanks to Pico taking in the extra body heat.

That all changed when I started school. I had less time to have fun. To go bug hunting at the park and sleep under the shade of the trees. Sure, there was recess, but none of the other kids wanted to hang out with me. I was either too dirty or was too much of a sissy. Couldn't hang out with girls or boys, so I was alone during my kindergarten years.

I remember I was also a bit slow with my work. I used to really struggle with numbers, and one of my clearest memories was this: I sat on the floor in front of a rug, tears making my vision blurry as they fell onto the beads I had to count out. I remember watching everyone else play, while I stayed in a classroom with the lights turned off, the sound of the kitchen staff cleaning the dishes after lunch.

I had a lot of trouble with my teachers too. Mainly with them trying to get me to fit in with the others. I would watch bugs, they'd pull me away to maybe try playing pretend with the girls. I don't think I really got that whole thing though. Why pretend when there was something real right there, y'know? At some point, I think they tried to get me to play with the boys. Not sure what they thought would happen, but I remember the feeling of a rubber ball smacking me square in the face.

Socializing with others wasn't the only thing they tried to get me to do. They really wanted me to be right-handed, but I felt more comfortable with my left hand already. They either bugged me about my left-handedness or my horrible handwriting when I did use my right hand, and since being left handed didn't really affect work I just ignored them and switched to my left hand when they weren't looking.

It's no brainer why I hated going to school at this point. Wasn't even in elementary yet and I already tried to fight my parents against going and stubbornly staying in bed. One small issue is that my dad is a very big guy with… let's just say a practical way of parenting. I remember crying as he threw my mattress outside. In hindsight that might've traumatized me, but I'll…unpack that later.

I finished kindergarten with mediocre scores and no friends. Kind of a downer for the start I know, but it'll get better. I promise.

Bash laid in his bed, unmoving. Exhausted.

It was a rare occurrence for him to feel so exhausted. Like his heart was too heavy to lift so he just lies still, eyes struggling to stay open despite sleeping for far too long.

He didn't want anyone to find him like this. It was such a sharp contrast to his usual energetic self. He didn't know how long he had laid there.

He wasn't particularly close with any of his other selves yet. Sure, he had a rap battle with Yourself and talked to Beef once or twice, but other than that he mostly kept quiet. Maybe it was some sort of imposter syndrome which made it feel like there was a sheet of glass between him and the others. He just couldn't bring himself to talk. To speak up.

His eyes fell shut again. 

It felt like an eternity before he could open them once more. His heart rate was slightly faster. His breathing a little more shallow. He felt too warm under the blankets. 

He didn't know what was wrong. It felt like there was a tangled mess of strings in his chest, and he couldn't see where to start pulling to make it come apart so he could fix it. What made it worse is that he's snipped away at a few of the knots in the past, and now he's too afraid to detandle them since they might fall apart. One wrong move, and he could be left with nothing.

He huffed at the strange metaphor in his mind, clutching his shirt at his chest. He couldn't talk to anyone like that. It was stupid and probably didn't make any sense.

---------------------

Bash had another nearly sleepless night. Beef was still passed out on the sofa, and he was sitting on the floor with the coffee table in front of him, holding his phone and scrolling through the pictures he took last night.

They had a lot of fun together. Being rowdy and letting loose. Something about nighttime just felt more freeing. No worries about what we need to do while the sun is still out. No errands you could possibly run when everything has closed. No one who'd call you up for anything unless it's an emergency.

It was nice to forget about being an adult for a while.

There was a brief ache in Bash's chest at that thought. The idea he'd lose that sense of fun.

He glanced at Beef.

There could be a day where they grow apart.

He held his phone a little tighter, pushing the thoughts away and getting up. He hoped that brief blip of sorrow wasn't noticable to YS. That guy had enough to worry about as it was. He didn't need more to worry about and it would make him feel like shit.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face when he saw YS staring back at him with a disappointed look. Crap.

"Uhh…heyyy…" Bash smiled awkwardly, knowing he was about to get chewed out.

"Staying up late isn't good for you. Y'know that, right?" The other said.

Yeah. Bash knew that. God. This felt like being chewed out by his parents a little bit. "What can I say? I'm a night owl." He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to pass it off as joking with a chuckle.

"Bash, this is serious. When was the last time you had a proper sleep schedule?" YS folded his arms.

Oh. He really wasn't gonna get out of this one, huh? This wasn't just some silly one-and-done forget about it confrontation. This was an intervention. "I mean I might stay up late but I get 7 hours at least on most days." He figured it wasn't that bad if he's getting the right chunk of sleep. Might not be at a good hour but it felt like a reasonable compromise to him.

"I know you wake up earlier than your alarm unless you're sleep deprived. Your group chat messages for the past week. They show you're only offline for 4-5 hours every night." YS said firmly.

Bash's smile faltered a little. He knew he wasn't the most responsible adult but this just felt a little…

"Disappointed in yourself?" He cut Bash's thoughts off with a dagger. Ouch. YS must've realized because his expression furrowed a little differently. Less of disappointment and more of worry. "Shit- sorry."

"No. You're right." Bash sighed, dropping the jokester act. He didn't feel like keeping it up if the facade was already seen through. Couldn't hide anything from this guy. "I should act like the adult that I am."

Something about saying that outloud felt a lot worse.

"Fuck, dude-" YS winced a little. Regret immediately washed over Bash. God, it was hard to hide things here.

"Sorry, I-" Bash knew YS meant well, but goddamnit if he could silence the hurt so YS didn't feel it, he would.

"No, no. Forget I said anything." YS said, turning away.

"Wait-!"

Bash was met with his regular reflection.

He sighed and rubbed his face. Yes, he felt tired. Yeah, a little bit physically, but having your emotions read like it was a big old stoplight on his head felt exhausting after being so used to just hiding it. Being overly emotional never helped anyone. Not in Bash's experience.

Back when he and Pico first started dating, he'd do the same thing. Stay up way too late texting with him. It was fun, and he'd pass out with the last thing on his mind being the time they shared. After a long day of boring classes he didn't care about and doing chores around the house, it was his way of winding down.

It wasn't like he didn't see the downsides of it. He was just willing to make the sacrifice. He could sleep during class and take naps after doing his chores while Pico's still studying. Bash didn't particularly care about his homework and he'd do it during lunch anyway since Pico helped him. It was his own system and he thought it worked great.

But now that he was an adult, it felt more like an addictive cycle. His coworkers could tell when Bash has another late night. They'd bring it up. He'd have a cup of coffee and end up too caffeinated to sleep later. He stays up, has fun, and tries to stay up even longer till he's too tired to speak or type coherently. He'd wake up tired. People notice. Repeat.

He knew it wasn't healthy and he needed to break out of it hard and fast.

But it's always the first step that's the hardest, isn't it? Committing to it.

Bash washed his face. He felt a bit better, but not by much. His heart still weighed heavy, and he wanted to apologize to YS. Tell him the truth. Right now he knew YS was overthinking things. Maybe that he overstepped or caused Bash to feel hurt when it's not true at all.

YS was right when he brought up Bash was disappointed in himself. When your bad habits are laid out, anyone would feel guilty of it. Bash caused his own hurt by making bad choices. He needed that intervention or he wouldn't stop. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't the first time either. YS tried before and he didn't listen.

Bash tried to suppress the guilt that twisted in him, but he was terrible at it. Yes, this was the push he needed. Not all change was comfortable, and he knew that all too well. Didn't make it easy, but he'd live.

It wasn't much, but he set a few alarms for later tonight. Added an extra hour to his estimated sleep time to see if that does anything different, though a part of him believed it wouldn't change much.

He smiled a little to himself. He probably never would've taken the first step if it wasn't for his other self stepping in.

He hoped YS wasn't beating himself up about it. That was the last thing he wanted. Humans were complicated, and just detecting emotions didn't make YS a mind reader. Bash needed to explain himself and talk it out.

He sent YS a text.

(Hey, are you ok?}

----------

Not really used to writing other people's characters. Gave it a shot here, but I don't think it came out right. Wrote this all out and I'm not gonna re-read just cuz I'm gonna get embarrassed and chicken out of posting it.

A mask. A sweater. Baggy pants. A hat. A pair of gloves.

These were all essential to me. My protection, insulating my form from the outside world.

I was always drawn to it. The feeling of grass brushing against your ankles as you play at the park, bare feet and hands scrambling and sticking to thick plastic as you climb up plastic tube slides. The warmth of the sun would hit my skin and I’d feel like I could glow. The sound of other children laughing and playing made me laugh and made me want to play too.

Only, I was kept close, hand held by my mother and father who knew the world not to be so kind to demons like us.

Though they somehow managed to disguise themselves, I struggled with it greatly.

Fangs. Claws. A leathery tail. Horns. Pointed ears. A forked tongue. When it got particularly bad, I’d have wings.

I felt ugly. Misshapen. Malformed.

I was far from pretty. I didn’t need strangers to tell me that.

It was in North Carolina where I grew up. I was home-schooled, but sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be a normal kid. To wake up early, groaning about having to go to school and eating cereal while watching morning cartoons. To ride the school bus and be in class, half-listening to the lecture while daydreaming, only to be startled out of it when your name is called. Lunch rolls around, and you meet up and eat with your friends, talking about what they’re gonna do after school or planning a sleepover on the weekends. Then class would start again, only this time one of your best friends is sitting next to you and you whisper and mess around until the teacher notices.

There are so many kids who say school sucks, but when you have no one your age to talk to, maybe something that sucks doesn’t seem so bad.

I don’t think I’d do well in school anyways. Even if I did look human, I wasn’t smart. I wasn’t tech savvy, I hated math, and unless the reading was subtitles on a cartoon or an anime, I couldn’t stand it.

Mommy and Daddy said it was ok.

But I didn’t feel ok at all.

I think they knew. They tried to hide it, but I could hear them talking from behind closed doors. They were worried about me because I was alone.

So, so alone.

It was one morning when they announced that we were moving. Said it would be a nice change in scenery.

I was indifferent to it, but it wasn’t until moving day that I realized that I’d miss my home. My room. My bed.

Tearfully, I held my father’s hand as we left for Philadelphia.

The first day I was there, I decided to wander the streets. I was old enough to wander, and my parents said it would be good for me to explore and get to know the city.

I walked around for hours. Aimlessly.

I didn’t know what I was doing here. What my purpose was.

Before I knew it, I was at the top of a stairwell to the rooftop of an apartment.

That’s when I saw someone peculiar.

A human with blue hair.

He had his legs hanging off the edge, looking down.

Something about him seemed…sad. 

Lonely.

Just like me.

“…Are you alone too?” I asked.

He turned to look back at me.

A shadow was cast over his eyes, and his eyes were glazed over.

With only my eyes showing, I think he could see that mine were the same.

I tried to join him, but he seemed a little nervous about it. He didn’t want me to sit next to him I think. Because of how high up we were.

I just sat beside him.

“I-it’s dangerous-” He started, stammering on his words. “You should g-get out of here or I’ll-”

A strong breeze cut through us both.

My hat was blown away, and my heart pounded in panic as I tried to grasp at it.

I must have leaned too far forward, because I heard him yell and grab my wrist.

Before I knew it, I was hanging off the edge of the building, only held up by him.

He had to be incredibly strong. I was so much taller than him and yet…he could hold me up. He grunted as he pulled me back up, and I climbed back onto the rooftop.

We tumbled to the rooftop’s floor on the other side of the short wall. He panted, and as I was on top of his chest I could hear his heart beating rapidly.

I looked at his expression, knowing he probably found me disgusting. Abnormal.

But he had blush on his cheeks, the shadow cast over his eyes gone.

“Y-you’re beautiful.”

He whispered, looking at me in awe.

I stared at him, breathing shakily as my vision blurred. I felt my throat tighten, my heart swelling and feeling like it could burst. My stomach felt strange, like something was fluttering inside it and making my breaths unsteady.

“Hey, d-don’t cry…it’s ok…you’re ok now.”

I have nothing. I have no one.

No one to love. No one to crave.

I am hungry but nothing satiates so I starve myself.

I am tired but my night terrors do not let me rest.

I am lost and alone, and I find myself in the darkness of my room and in the comfort of my bed, weighed down too heavily by my troubles to rise and face my issues.

I stopped getting calls and texts.

My therapy appointments missed.

Was this what it was like to feel forgotten?

My face feels disgusting, my hair greasy from being unwashed.

I knew I wasn’t doing great. I knew it but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe with how heavy my chest felt, and though the weighted blanket provided comfort, it wasn’t as crushing as these feelings of failure and could not overpower them.

Should I have given him up? Should I have not tried to fight back at all to begin with?

Who the hell knows.

I need something to cling to. Something to guide me.

I need someone to love and someone to love me back.

Pico was that for me. We shared so much together. Our favorite shows. Our favorite foods. Our songs. We’d make things together. Sappy sweet things that were tooth-rottingly corny. It was embarrassing, but we’d laugh together at how silly and stupid it all is.

Now…

Now it is all gone.

He said he wanted to protect me.

Protect me from what?

I didn’t want to let him go.

So he dropped me instead.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to remember what he said. How he looked. I know he didn't want to do it. I was being stubborn and now I got hurt.

I gripped my pillow, whimpering as I buried my face in it.

Help me. Please. Someone help me.

I could feel my will to persist slipping away from my very soul.

It was hard to breathe as I sobbed, air thick and heavy. I hoped I’d suffocate in it.