Work Text:
A sharp pain pierced through his head as he shot up in bed. He was sweating. It was the same nightmare again, those brief glimpses of his parents, the asylum, what they had done to him there. He didn't remember much, nothing of the procedure itself, but he remembered the ache in his head and how empty he had felt. Not much had changed since, except for his recentish found love of mutating fish and, as always, dentistry.
But tonight was one of those nights where he felt hollow and his heart ached for... something. He never could quite pinpoint what and when he felt he almost had it, it was gone. Tonight, his heart was racing, hands shaky. He looked to his side at Crispin who was thankfully still asleep.
With the slightest shuffle of a sound, Loboto slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom. He walked over to the tub, turning the knobs and letting the stopper block the drain. As it was filling, he added some bubble bath soap. Everything was better with bubbles. Once it was full, he took off his pajamas and settled into the tub, pulling the curtain around it.
The water was warm against his skin, the curtain creating his own little bubble of a world, complete with a little yellow rubber duck. This was the one place where he could calm down, it had been since he was little, before they sent him away. He was safe here. He took a deep breath then dipped under the water. A thought came to his mind as he lay beneath the soapy water. Was this what fish felt like?
He wouldn't mind being a fish. They were nice, stupid creatures with pretty scales. The only thing they had to worry about was getting eaten by larger fish. He frowned. Maybe he had already been eaten, digested, and spat back out. His mother's voice echoed in his head.
"He's a monster."
"It's unnatural."
"I'm afraid of him."
"I don't care what happens, just let it be over."
So cruel. But he smiled. He was a bad apple in the basket of rotten fruit. His lungs burned. There was a mumble he heard from above and when he poked his head back out, his ears unplugged.
"Everything alright, Doctor Loboto?" Crispin asked.
"Oh, yes. Everything is fine. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Is it nightmares again?"
"Nightmares? Ha! No, no, don't be silly, Crispin." Again? Had he been having nightmares lately? He couldn't remember. Either way, he didn't need to bother Crispin with something so trivial. Nightmares were for children.
But Crispin stared at him in disbelief. Or maybe he stared because he couldn't see.
"Don't look at me like that, weren't you taught staring is rude?" He went to pull the curtain shut, but his hand was stopped. "Crispin." Loboto glared at him.
"Doctor, it's three in the morning, I know when something is wrong. How long have we known each other now?"
Loboto stared at the bubbles gently popping on the water. "A while." He didn't know how long really, but it had been quite some time. He enjoyed his company. Crispin didn't talk too much and he had a wonderfully morbid sense of humor. Dare he say they were friends.
Crispin massaged Loboto's hand with his thumb.
Perhaps they were more. His heart fluttered. "Crispin..."
"If you don't want to talk about it then I'll go back to bed and we can forget about the whole thing if you'd prefer."
"You don't have to go." He relaxed back, sinking lower into the tub until the bubbles were just below his nose. The yellow duck bobbed.
"What was it about?"
Loboto glanced at Crispin, then to the duck, and back to him. He bubbled in the water.
"I'm afraid I don't speak in the language of bubbles, Doctor."
When he lifted his head out, the soap clung to his face like a bewitching bubbly beard. "Have you ever had brain surgery?"
"No, I can't say that I have. I like to keep my brains on the inside. Was your dream about brains? Have you been working too hard again on that man's tanks?"
Maybe he had. He couldn't remember sleeping very much lately, but that wasn't the point. Did he really want to tell Crispin about this? He'd never told anyone. Not a soul. It was too personal. Private. Better left forgotten. He shook his head. "A dentist's work is never done." Loboto fidgeted, flashing Crispin a smile. Whether or not it was believable was debatable.
"Hmm..." Crispin's fingers tapped along his hand in thought. "Doctor Loboto, as your trusted elevator operator, I can promise you that I will not have loose lips with what ever is on your mind."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple." He paused. "My parents sent me to the hospital when I was a young boy to... fix me. I bent too many of my mother's good spoons. I think she got mad at me for that, so someone came and took me to the hospital and did something to my head, called it a lobotomy. I couldn't bend spoons after that and my parents never came back to get me. Funny, isn't it?" He let out a high cackle, but felt like crying. Not that he could.
When he quieted down, Crispin was silent.
"Doctor, that's horrible." The look on his face was dead serious. Loboto frowned. "All you did was bend spoons? Doctor Loboto, please excuse me, but your parents sound deranged."
"No, no, I should've been normal like the other children. I should've been a good boy." He wanted to hide. He removed his hand from Crispin's, busying it with the rubber ducky. It shouldn't have been so hard telling him. He'd known Crispin for... How long? He didn't remember, but it was long, definitely.
"Well, Doctor, despite your upbringing, look at all you've done! You're a successful dentist, scientist, and engineer. Why, I dare say that you are the smartest person that I know. No sense in being normal when you can be yourself."
But his-self was not the self he wanted to be right now. His headache had dissipated, but he would rather have that back than the knot he felt in his chest. The ache in his heart where something should have been, but wasn't.
"Doctor Loboto, I think you are magnificent."
Loboto turned and before he could say a word on the matter, Crispin's lips were on his own. If his brain could melt, he was sure it was goo.
"Sorry," Crispin mumbled after he pulled away.
Loboto stared at him, a huge grin plastered on his face. He felt warm all over. And then he giggled. "Oh Crispin, you never told me you were such a good kisser." He leaned over the side of the tub, planting a kiss on Crispin's forehead. "I think I've been in here long enough, I'm going to get all pruny like a raisin. Why don't you head back to bed. I'll be there in a minute."
"I... Yes, Doctor." Crispin smiled, turning for the door.
"Oh, and Crispin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."