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Tophat dunks his head in the sink he filled with water, breathing heavily. That turns out to be not the wisest idea, as it seems he did not manage to spontaneously grow gills overnight. He resurfaces, taking a deep breath of oxygen before panting again.
Without his permission his eyes slip closed and he slides down the side of his sink, worn beyond comprehension.
God. Okay. All he needed to do was calm down a bit. Then he could properly wash his face off and… go back to sleep, he supposed.
What time was it, even?
The analog clock that everyone told him was silly for having up in his bathroom finally serves its purpose. Or, it would if everything weren’t so blurry.
Tophat rubs his eyes angrily, squinting at the clock. It’s… ugh. He rubs his eyes again.
“It’s like, 4 AM, dude.”
“AHH!”
Tophat shoots up, tripping over the bathmat and slipping into the tub proper. Luckily, nothing comes tumbling down on top of him, but he’s having a hard time catching his breath again.
“I… told you…” he grimaces, “You have got to stop doing that!”
“‘S not my fault, Toppers.” GPS sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed and elbows resting on their knees. “I can’t really stop you from seeing me. That’s all on you.” They raise an eyebrow. “It’s been like, what, two months and change now? You still haven’t let go of that fringe theory?”
“NO!” Tophat shouts, then immediately blanches. “I-I mean… I…”
“Yeah, no,” GPS sighs. “You said what you meant.”
“I—Y-you have no idea what I meant!”
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you?” Tophat breathes heavily and blinks, and just like that GPS is gone. “I’m in your head. Whatever you say to me is just you saying it to yourself.”
“It’s… I…” Tophat sighs and closes his eyes. “This has all just been really hard on me.”
“I know,” GPS says, sympathy in their bitcrushed voice. “But you really ought to let go of me now.” They’re back on the toilet seat when Tophat looks up again. “It really sucks and it hurts a lot, but this isn’t healthy, Tophat. You know that.”
“I…” Tophat groans. “I know, GP. I know.”
“Alright then. First thing’s first.” GPS lifts up and offers a hand to Tophat. “You gotta get out of this tub, man. It’s like, breaking my heart to see you like this.”
“Won’t I just fall through you?” GPS retracts their hand.
“Oh,” they say. “Right. Well, it’s still sad. Get up and out anyways.”
So Tophat does. He rights himself and climbs out of his bathtub all by himself.
“Good, good,” GPS smiles. “Now wash your face.”
“I don’t need a gh—I… I don’t need someone babying me, GP. I know how to take care of myself.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes!” Angerly, Tophat plunges his head back into the still filled sink and emerges while managing not to take a lung’s full worth of water back up with him. “See! Could someone who didn’t know what to do with themself do that?”
GPS raises an eyebrow and crosses their arms. “...Do you actually want the answer for that? Or…”
“Ugh!” Tophat huffs out. “Whatever! I don’t need to take this from you.” He pushes past GPS and pointedly does not think about the fact he phased right through them.
Water. Cold, refrigerated water. That’s what he needed to get his head on straight. Of course.
Off to the fridge he goes, making his way more by muscle memory than sight. Once there, he pushes his cup under the despenser and takes a long swig.
“There,” he sighs. “Much better.”
“Tophat?”
“AUGH!” Tophat nearly jumps a foot in the air. “GPS!?”
“Are you still seeing them?” Tophat focuses his eyes and looks down. There, the actual source of the voice, stands Sketchpad.
Right. Tophat forgot she was staying over again.
“Um,” the taller object says smartly. “What do you mean?”
Sketchpad squints her eyes a bit. “You can try to hide it from me, but don’t forget. I’m a detective. People don’t just call out for their dead friend in the middle of the night like they’re expecting a response without reason.”
“Oh.” Tophat says, small. “You… got all that from me shouting GP’s name?”
“No, not exactly.” Sketchpad shuffles around Tophat to try and get her own glass of water. Tophat helps after she struggles for a couple seconds too long. “Thanks.” She takes a big gulp, downing half the cup in one go. “Anyways, I have gotten used to your night terrors.”
“...’Night terrors’?”
“What else would you call them?”
“I… I wouldn’t call them anything.” He turns away from Sketchpad. “I don’t have anything.”
“Oh really?”
Tophat growls. “Yes, really! And it’s like 4 AM and I don’t wanna be having this conversation! What would you know anyways?”
“More than you’d think.” And the reserved way she says it is almost sobering to Tophat, the anger that suddenly filled him just as suddenly ebbing away into nothing.
“Oh.” he says. “Sorry.”
“There’s no reason to apologize. I understand that it must be hard.” Sketchpad takes a seat on the floor and pats next to her. Tophat sighs and takes the offer.
“No, there is,” he groans. “Sorry for being a jerk. I… I don’t mean it. It’s just…”
“It’s like they’re really there, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“Speaker does his best to get me not to talk to him. But it’s really hard.” Sketchpad looks up at Tophat. “But you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”
Tophat does his best not to writhe. “Aw, c’mon, Sketchpad,” he says, giving her an awkward smile. “Don’t get all serious on me now. What happened to the Sketchpad who brings chicken wings to a crime scene?”
“They talk to Speaker,” Sketchpad says without missing a beat. “And right now, this Sketchpad talks to you.”
“Oh.”
The two of them sit in silence like that for a while. The clock ticks mercilessly and the electronics give off quiet hums that would only be noticeable in a moment like this.
Tophat breaks first.
“It’s just not fair, you know?” he laments, frowning. “They were perfectly normal before we went to that stupid mansion! And then all of a sudden they’re killing people? It doesn’t add up!”
“Is that why you refuse to let go of that fringe theory?”
Tophat startles. “H-how did you know that?”
“You are not very subtle in your thoughts,” Sketchpad replies. “Besides, I think I understand. I would be in your shoes right now if something like that had happened to Speaker.”
“Yeah,” Tophat says lamely. “I guess you would.”
“But that’s okay,” Sketchpad continues. “Because even if it’s not exactly the same, we can both get better from this. We just need time.”
“Yeah. Time’s all we need.” Tophat sighs. “I’m sure things will get better. Any day now.”
“Any day now,” Sketchpad echos.
“C’mon,” Tophat says, lifting up. “Let’s get back to bed.”
“Um,” Sketchpad mumbles as she stands. “Could I ask a favor of you, Tophat?”
“Huh? Sure, what is it?”
Sketchpad doesn’t make eye contact. “Do you think you could sleep next to me on the couch? I think that would do us both good.”
Tophat softens and smiles. “Yeah. Sure, buddy. Whatever you want.”
And that’s what they do. Tophat goes into his room to collect a pillow and blanket before returning and fixing up the other side of the couch to his liking. “Sleep well,” he says as he shimmies under the blanket.
“You too,” Sketchpad smiles.
For the first time in months, Tophat dreams about something mundane. He’s in a store buying groceries with Sketchpad. It’s a bit hectic, but it’s fun and comfortable.
GPS is nowhere to be seen.
Tophat smiles easily in his sleep for the rest of the night.