Chapter Text
Church was having a hard time eating. Granted, the food on campus, even with all the school’s money, sucked ass, but it was more than that. He just didn’t seem to have an appetite. He poked at his eggs before taking another swig from his coffee. That’s when he noticed two things. One, that his mug was empty. Two, that Caboose was staring directly at him even while shoveling mouth fulls of cereal into his face.
“Got something to say?” It was more of a threat than a question, but Caboose never picked up on stuff like that.
“You should have more orange juice,” he said, like that was supposed to mean something.
“What?”
“Oh, uh, it’s just such a good drink. You know… with the vitamins…”
“Right…” He’s been seeing Caboose almost everyday for months now, against his will he might add, and he was still confused as shit every time he opened his mouth.
“Anyway, I’m gonna grab another coffee,” said Church, getting up.
Church took his time getting his refill. From day one Caboose had always followed around like a lost puppy, but recently he somehow got worse. Not only did he seem to be waiting around every corner for Church to show up, but he managed to amplify his presence when they were together. Half his meals were with the guy and now instead of just talking his ears off about random bullshit he’d oscillate between that and intense staring. It honestly felt like he was trying to read his mind at times. Anytime he asked about it he'd say something stupid, like with the orange juice. Church didn’t know why he expected a different type of response so he guessed some of the blame for his frustration was on him. Only some though, and a very, very small part at that.
Church sat down and wasted no time downing his coffee. This was like his third cup and only now was he starting to feel the effects. If he was going to survive the day he needed to be awake real soon.
Caboose made a small noise.
Church froze for a second before choosing to ignore it. Whatever it was, it couldn't be important.
He took a few more bites of his food and left. Caboose was still eating. He tried to hurry up saying he’ll walk out with him, but Church shut him down saying he had to head to class right away.
He left him sitting there.
Church didn’t dwell on this. No matter how he treated Caboose he always came running back to him. The guy seriously needed to find some self respect. That aside, Church did actually have a class to get to.
He liked stacking as many classes on Monday as he could so the rest of the week would just be smooth sailing. He stuck by this decision because sure he was unreachable the first half of the week, not really a downside but whatever, but the second half he didn’t have to worry about being anywhere on time so he could work, game or mindlessly bicker with Tucker completely uninterrupted. That was the idea anyway, but when he wasn't feeling what this strategy demanded it felt like he was clawing his way up Everest just to reach the end of the day.
This was one of those days.
He started strong in his calc class. Numbers were always easy for him so he liked that it was his first class of the week. He got to start off slow and build momentum. He felt great, barely paying attention and still acing everything.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep up that momentum. Around early afternoon he had a seminar on American lit, and even after looking back on his notes from the reading he still had no clue what he actually read. The words in his notes were becoming blurry and hard to understand. He was hitting a wall and his day wasn’t even half over. This wasn’t good.
He survived the class, but only barely. He mostly made a lot of ‘and to go of what x said’ type comments and hoped that he was making sense. He didn’t think he was fooling anyone though. He was pretty sure he was using two character’s names interchangeably, and the confused looks everyone was giving him pretty much confirmed it. Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and pushed through to the otherside.
The second the class ended he beelined for the nearest place to eat. If something could save him it was actually eating and more caffeine. He grabbed a sub and a Celsius. He didn’t really like the way they tasted, like they tasted so artificial they didn’t really taste like anything. He said that to Tucker once and was told to shut up because he literally saw Church drinking Bangs all the time. He told him firstly, those taste more like sugar than anything, and second fuck off.
He really didn’t realize how hungry he was until he was faced with a wall of options. It was so overwhelming he just asked for a number five without reading what was even in it. He still didn’t know what was in it because after that first bite something in him was triggered and he ate too fast to even taste anything. He drank the Celcius just as fast.
He felt slightly more alive now. He blamed Caboose for not being able to eat earlier. Like how was a guy supposed to eat when being stared at like a zoo exhibit, and now he couldn’t eat until he was practically starving. He decided to be mature about his seething resentment and pushed it down and began reviewing his notes before going to his next class. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that his notes no longer looked like gibberish. He wasn’t going to have a repeat of earlier, he was sure of it.
His next class started strong, he was attentive and was taking notes, but things quickly became a blur. Caffeine didn’t have a lasting effect on him, and he normally had to consume a shit ton for it to have any sort of hold. That’s why he bought a second energy drink to have in class. That one did the trick. He no longer felt foggy, but now things felt off in a different way. He didn’t exactly know how to explain it. He was super alert and was interacting with everything properly, but he did not feel physically present, like someone else was at the wheel.
That didn’t alarm him though. As long as notes were being taken and his participation grade wasn’t being hurt he couldn’t give less of a shit how mentally present he was.
He carried that energy into his final class for the day, and he was able to keep it up until the last twenty minutes. By then the fatigue was back and he was convinced he was dying. Each second felt like an eternity. He bore holes into the clock on his laptop. He was convinced it was frozen somehow. There was no way that a minute could really be that long. It was taking way longer than sixty seconds for the time to change he was sure of it.
The second class ended he shoved his shit in his bag and headed the fuck out. He was pretty sure the professor might’ve still been saying something but he didn’t care. He needed to go, and he was out of there at record time.
It was around seven now, and in that moment he knew three things. One, even though he wasn’t hungry he should probably eat. Two, if he went back to his room now he wasn’t leaving it. And three, if he had to be around people for a second longer he was going to kill someone. He thought for a second to weigh his priorities. Yes, his stomach was growling, but he was also way too aware of his skin. It felt like it was crawling or like something was crawling under it. It felt tight and itchy. He restrained himself from itching at his arms. He knew this was just the result of a long day. He needed to calm down.
He decided, screw it, going anywhere for food would just make things worse, besides he was pretty sure he had something to eat in his room. Either way he needed to go home and fast.
Sometimes it felt like the universe had a joke that it thought was so funny, just down right hilarious, but he wasn’t in on it. In fact he’s the butt of the whole damn thing, and that never felt more true then when he tried to get into his room. He was a few doors away and who happened to be coming out of the opposite stairwell. Caboose, who the fuck else.
“Church!” he shouted before excitedly bounding over to him.
“Listen Caboose, I’m really not in the mood so-”
“Are you okay because you don’t look okay?”
“Gee, thanks,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Seriously, you look sick. Oh no, are you sick?”
He reached forward to touch Church’s forehead but he slapped his hand away before he could.
“I’m not sick. I’m just fucking exhausted. So if you don’t mind I’d like to be left alone.”
“Oh, when I’m exhausted I like a nice hot chocolate and to get like real cozy in a pile o-”
“I don’t care, Caboose! I want to be left alone!”
Caboose fell silent for a moment before saying, “I hope you have a good night’s rest,” and walking away.
Church let himself into his room. He got what he wanted, but it still didn’t feel great. He never thought of Caboose as a friend. Hell, he didn’t particularly hate the guy either. He just tolerated him at this point, but it still felt off. He tried to convince himself he only snapped because Caboose didn’t fuck off the first time he was told to, but that didn’t sit right either. Caboose had been way more annoying before and he hadn’t yelled like that.
He stopped himself from continuing that thought and sighed. No use worrying about it now. Now he needed to find something to eat. He rummaged through his room and found half a bag of family sized potato chips and a granola bar. Better than nothing he thought before devouring them.
He didn’t feel full, obviously, but he was no longer ravenous. That panicked feeling he had started to subside, but that didn’t go away fully either. He looked at the time. It was way too early to go to bed. Even though that was probably what he needed, he couldn’t convince himself to do it. Instead he pulled up a movie on Netflix.
He didn’t bother seeing what it was about. He just chose the first thing it recommended and went with it. He wanted to say that’s why he couldn’t get into it. That there was way too much talking about what they should be doing but no one was doing anything at all. The pacing was weird and the motivations made no sense. He wiggled the cursor to reveal he still had two thirds of the movie left. He didn’t want to try to find something else, he did not have the mental capacity for that, so he endured. He endured until his eyelids got too heavy and he fell asleep in front of the half finished movie.
Church normally told people that he didn’t dream. It didn’t come up often, but when it did that’s what he’d say. He was always met with a chorus of ‘that’s a shame, dreaming is so fun’, and stuff like that, but he’d have to disagree. See, the thing was he actually did dream. He just never remembered what happened in them. Just the emotional impact it left on him. He’d argue that this was worse than remembering them or not dreaming at all.
Tonight went like most nights recently. He’d start off sleeping peacefully, but then the sense of panic would start to set in. He felt like he was in danger. Like the walls were closing in around him. He was back into a corner with no way out. Like a trapped animal. The pressure was building and building, that strangling feeling becoming ever tighter around his neck. He couldn’t breath. He need to do something or he’d die. He needed to do something, but his body wasn’t responding. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going t-
He jolted awake, scared and confused.
He sat for a moment trying to catch his breath. He remembered the fear vividly, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what scared him so bad. That made this suck even worse. Afterall, how could you face something you knew nothing about?
Once his heart rate started to relax he moved his hand in search for his phone. Its brightness blinded him in the pitch dark room, another insult on the growing list. After a few blinks it told him it was only three. He sighed. He knew it was too early to start his day, but he still felt on edge, like he was still in danger. There was no way he could just go back to sleep like nothing happened. He decided to just look at his phone until his body realized it was safe.
What was supposed to be a few minutes of mindless scrolling turned into a few hours. When he saw the sun begin to rise he knew he had to try and sleep again, even just for a little bit.
He slept for only two hours.
When he woke up for real this time his head hurt and he felt like shit, but what else was new. Might as well go drown that feeling in caffeine and see what happened.
He only had one class today so he could take it easy, but that mostly just meant he was on his laptop in various spots that weren't his room and smoking anytime he needed to stretch his legs. None of this made him feel particularly good, but he didn’t feel as shitty as he did yesterday. He counted that as a win.
After his class mid afternoon he got an early dinner and went back to his room. His schedule was going to be packed again tomorrow so might as well relax while he could.
That seemed less possible when he got to the front entrance of Blue Dorm. As if the universe was trying to prove how funny its joke was, Caboose was getting there at the same time as him. He still felt kind of bad for how he snapped at him last night, but he didn’t know what to say. So he just settled on saying, “Hey, Caboose.”
He perked up at hearing his name, “Hey Church. Um, how did you sleep?”
“Fucking great,” he grumbled, sure his eye bags could speak for themselves.
Caboose didn’t seem to get his meaning because he replied, “That’s good. Did you have dinner already because-?”
“Yup, already did.” He didn’t want to be short with him again, but my god did he just want to lay down.
“Oh, okay. What are you up to now?”
“Going to my room to do absolutely nothing.”
“Sounds fun,” he said, full of cheer, not a hint of sarcasm present. He really didn’t understand this guy.
Caboose followed him past his own floor and to Church’s room. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but it did hammer home the stray puppy dynamic for him.
“Well, see ya,” Church said, unlocking his door.
“Wait.”
“What now?” He turned to look and see what Caboose could possibly want. For a second, not even, he saw trepidation written across his face, but his blinding optimism soon took its normal place.
“I thought we could keep talking.”
“Caboose,” he warned.
“Can I at least finish telling you about the text I got?”
“Whatever.” He was too tired to argue, and let Caboose follow him in.
Church kicked off his shoes and collapsed on his bed. Caboose sat down next to him. Normally he’d yell at him to sit in the damn chair but he couldn’t be bothered. In all honesty his body felt like it was filling with lead and even speaking seemed impossible. He let him sit there by his hip.
“So again, I don’t have this number saved to my phone, but I think it’s from a study group, and people you should know aren’t happy when you ask who they are, so I play along.”
Caboose goes on about how this girl was texting him for his notes, seeming oblivious to the fact that she was lazy and just trying to use him, only to be thwarted by how Caboose’s brain worked.
“I just don’t get why she would ask for my notes and then be angry when she got them.”
“What do your notes look like?”
“Words?”
“Are they in English and, you know, real words?”
“Yes!”
“No yelling.”
“Oh sorry,” he said, now way too quiet, “yes, well I think. If a word comes to my brain in Spanish first I might write that, but still everything should make sense in context. See.” He pulled out his phone showing the pictures he sent.
At first Church thought he was looking at a cypher or maybe just some modern art bullshit, but he knew that couldn’t be right. He must be even more tired than he thought, if that was even possible. He rubbed his eyes and tried to take a harder look, but still all he could see was chicken scratch writing that could be in any language written at random intervals connected by a web of arrows. He was completely lost.
“I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
Caboose sighed, “Not you too.” He sounded disappointed, but not in himself. In Church for not getting what he saw as super obvious.
“Caboose, those aren’t notes. That’s a fucking serial killer’s letter.”
“No see, they make perfect sense.” He leaned down to better show Church what was on his phone.
Caboose was way too close and needed to back off. Church tried to shimmy away, but he just leaned in closer. Church resigned himself to his fate.
Caboose explained how the arrows were there to show how things were directly connected to each other, but this just gave Church the same vibe as people who highlighted entire pages saying the whole thing was important. When he was done explaining his convoluted thought process he looked at Church expectantly.
“I still don’t get it,” said Church.
“Well, what do your notes look like?” he challenged.
Church pulled out his phone and showed him the google doc he had for one of his lectures. It was just normal paragraphs written in shorthand. Easy enough to follow, but Caboose scrunched up his face at the sight of them.
“Okay, what’s that for?” asked Church.
“How do you read that?”
“What do you mean, how do I read that? With my fucking eyes.” The revelation that a basic paragraph structure was foreign to him was not a revelation he was prepared for.
“Yeah, I know that, but how do you remember what’s important?”
“I don’t need to create a conspiracy board to do that. I just need to write clearly and highlight important words and terms. It’s not that hard.”
“Mmm, I guess if that’s what works for you,” he said, sounding wholly unconvinced.
“Don’t get all condescending with me. I’m the normal one here.”
“Okay, Church,” he said, tone unchanged.
“God, you’re so fucking annoying.”
“Do you normally get this worked up before you sleep?”
“No, I don’t. So why don’t you leave. That way I can actually relax.”
Caboose stared at him for a moment. Church couldn’t gauge his expression, but in all fairness he never knew what Caboose was thinking even when he was talking.
Finally he said, “Okay, good night, Church.”
“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”
Caboose left, and Church was left alone with the fact that he couldn’t actually sleep. He tried just laying there with his eyes closed, but that restless feeling wouldn’t go away. He tossed and turned. He tried to count down from one hundred. He reached one and the only thing he got was progressively more annoyed.
He ended up giving up on keeping his eyes closed. He got out his phone and scrolled listlessly through social media. Not even absorbing what he was looking at. The whole thing was mindless and to eat up time until he got tired, and boy did it eat up time. Three hours passed and he was still glued to his phone. He just wasn’t feeling any sleepier.
He groaned in frustration, flipped onto his stomach and buried his head into his pillow. Somehow this was what did it. The heaviness seeped into his muscles and he drifted off to sleep.
He felt calm and relaxed, until, like every night, fear and anxiety crept in. Something was coming for him. Something always was. There was no getting away no matter how hard he tried. He was never safe. He never even knew what he was running from. He didn’t want to know. If he ever found out it’d be too late.
He sat bolt upright, chest pounding, eyes wild. The sun was creeping in through the window. He flopped back down onto his bed with a grown. Looked like it was time to start his day already.
Class was a blur. Eating was a blur. Everything was a blur. He couldn’t get anything to stay in focus. His head was pounding, his eyes hurt and everything felt like too much. Every sound, touch and smell was overpowering. He wanted to lay down and die, at least that way he’d be put out of his misery.
He didn’t remember how, but he made it back to his dorm around sunset. He sat on his bed thinking about what he wanted to do. The thought of sitting still and watching something made his skin crawl, and he couldn’t focus on anything enough to game, and he sure as hell couldn’t fucking sleep.
He pulled his hair in frustration and let out, an albeit restrained, guttural sound of frustration. Once that feeling passed he thought. What did people normally do to relax? He ruled out anything that required focus or sitting still. Yoga was just fucking lame and he’d been walking around all day so going for a walk clearly wasn’t anything. The only thing left that he could think of was taking a hot shower.
That actually didn’t sound that bad, he decided. The heat might actually burn that crawling sensation out of his skin if he was lucky. He gathered his things and went to the showers.
The instant the water hit his face it felt like the fog was beginning to clear. He wondered if making it hotter would increase this feeling so he cranked it as high as he could stand. He didn’t know how long he just stood there before he even touched a piece of soap. He felt like the heat was penetrating his brain and his bones. The feeling was so overwhelmingly relaxing not only did he not want to leave, but he also wondered how he never thought of this before.
As his fingers began to severely prune he decided it was time to head out. He quickly washed up and dried off. The room seemed much chillier than before. He quickly threw on his sweats and retreated back to his room.
He finally felt less likely to rip his own skin off, but he still didn’t know what to do with himself. Realistically he should try to sleep, but he was scared to see if actually could or not.
He wasn’t left thinking long before there was a knock on his door. He sighed. It was always something.
He opened the door and it was Caboose because why wouldn’t it be.
“Can I help you?” asked Church.
“I wanted to say hi!” he paused before saying,”Hi!” again.
“That all?”
“Umm want to hang out?”
Normally Church would slam the door on him, he’s done it a million times before, but the thought of sitting alone with himself seemed like too much. He invited Caboose in. He in return gave his classic thousand watt smile as he took a seat on his bed instead of the fucking chair.
“Do you have to sit there?”
“How else would we sit together?”
“Why do we need to sit together?”
Laughed like that was such a fucking rediculous thing to ask, “To talk,” he said plainly.
He could feel the effects of the shower fading away. It was probably best not to fight him too much. He sat as far away as he could, which wasn’t far on a twin and asked, “So what do you want to talk about?”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times without saying anything. Church had to admit Caboose was acting weird, even for him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted something from him, or was just so genuinely surprised that he was let in that he just forgot how to act. Like the guy legitimately didn’t think he’d get this far and was short circuiting.
He floundered for a bit longer before snapping out of his own confusion and going, “Is your hair wet?”
“What?” He swore this guy could get distracted by the littlest of things. He knew damn well that’s not what he came here to talk about.
Without saying anything else Caboose reached forward and touched Church along the side of his head to confirm for himself. His touch wasn’t as rough as usual. Churched imagined he was so used to working with machines that he forgot that humans were a lot more fragile. This was at least the theory he came up with after being grabbed, bear hugged and generally manhandled enough to notice he didn’t know the meaning of the word gentle. This was different though. His touch was soft and tentative as if for once he was afraid of breaking him.
Church went rigid at the sensation. He wasn’t a big fan of physical affection. The only person that had permission to hug him was Tucker. This wasn’t only because the two of them were close, but also because Tucker hardly ever did it, and if he did so it was more playful and completely lacking intimacy.
That said, the lack of permission never stopped Caboose before. He’d always push the boundaries too far, Church would yell at him, he’d apologize, forget that interaction ever happened and do it again the next time. Him randomly touching Church was a big part of that lack of boundaries that had become their norm. That’s why it was the tenderness that sent his nerves on edge. It wasn’t something that he ever expected from Caboose or anyone for that matter.
“You’re cold,” said Caboose.
Truthfully, Church didn’t realize he was until Caboose touched him. His hand felt like an inferno against his ear, and he missed that heat the second Caboose pulled away.
“You should've dried your hair. That was silly of you.” He grabbed a towel from atop his dresser and handed it to him.
Church wordlessly accepted it and started toweling his hair.
“You should bundle up. It’s like really easy to get a cold like that,” he continued as he grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and handed it over.
He sat back down and looked at Church expectantly.
“Uh, thanks,” was all he could think to say, a little unnerved about how weirdly calm and perceptive Caboose was being.
“Oh!” he says, perking up, “We should watch something. It’s always the best to watch something relaxing when you’re all cozy.” And just like that that perky golden retriever look was back on his face.
“Caboose, I don’t really-”
“Oh come on. You’ll love it. Besides, you've been so grouchy lately. Relaxing is just what you need.”
He didn’t think Caboose was right, after all, when wasn't an asshole, but he also wasn’t too sure he was wrong either. It’s been a long ass week and he didn’t have the energy to die on this hill so he just went with it. Not to mention he already let the guy in. If he let him do what he came here for, he’ll be satisfied and leave, hopefully.
“Sure, why the fuck not.”
Caboose beamed, and clamored further onto the bed so his back was against the wall. Presumably getting comfortable. Church shrugged it off and grabbed his laptop.
“So what did you have in mind?”
“How it’s Made. I always love watching that before bed.”
“That tracks.”
He sat next to Caboose, making sure to keep some space between them, and handed him the open laptop.
“Pull it up.” He took this moment to rewrap himself in the blanket. Now that he realized he was freezing even the slightest loss of heat had him shaking.
Caboose happily tapped away at the keyboard before handing it back.
Church never watched this before. It just didn’t have any appeal to him, but he could see why Caboose chose to relax to it. The narrator had a very even and calm voice, and you barely had to pay attention to what was being said. Like they were talking about accordions, which Church couldn’t give two shits about, but it was still calming. This must be what people liked about sensory videos he figured.
The narrator talked on and Caboose would occasionally share his opinion on the machines on screen. This meant he either talked about how he liked how something so big could do something so delicate or something like that, or that he bet he could build that machine and use it for something completely different. Much like the narrator, Church wasn’t paying much attention to him either. He just left both voices wash over him.
The episode had three things they were showing in it: accordions, pineapples and artificial joints, but Church barely made it two seconds into pineapples. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he did remember feeling really warm as all his muscles got heavy and his eyelids were fighting for their life.
When he woke up he was on his side, glasses off and the sun was streaming in through the window. He didn’t remember getting like this, but for once he didn’t feel like complaining. That was mostly because his eyes didn’t hurt and his head didn’t feel like it was full of fog. He legitimately felt rested for once. Something he thought was near impossible.
He laid there just enjoying how relaxed he felt. Relishing this accomplishment. His eyes drifted to the window. He stared at it, scrutinizing it. He was all too familiar with what the first hours of daylight looked like and this wasn’t it. What time was it? He fanned out his arm looking for his phone and that’s when he noticed the weight across his waist.
He froze. Just like he couldn’t remember falling asleep he also didn’t remember Caboose leaving. He cautiously turned his head over his shoulder and there was Caboose, snuggled under the blanket with his arm around him.
Any sense of peace and calm left his body right along with any thought he had. He sharply jabbed Caboose with his elbow before sitting up and flipping around to face him.
“What the fuck, Caboose!” He still didn’t know what time it was, but he didn’t care if he woke up the whole floor with his screaming. He was seeing red.
Caboose was already getting up after being jabbed. The yelling didn’t seem to have an effect though. He mostly just seemed really groggy.
“Caboose,” Church repeated firmly, “what the fuck are you doing here?”
He rubbed his eyes as he said, “It didn’t feel right leaving you alone, so I didn’t.”
“Didn’t feel right?” His voice was filled with disbelief but also amazement. Amazed to see there were new and fucked up ways Caboose could still get under his skin without realizing it. “Caboose, you can’t just invite yourself into someone else’s bed like that. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Yeah, but-”
“No buts. Get out!” he said pointing at the door.
“But you asked me to stay,” Caboose insisted. His grogginess now clearing up and he was looking intently at Church.
“No I fucking didn’t.”
“Yes you did. When you fell asleep on me, you started holding onto me and talking in your sleep.”
“Bullshit. I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“Yes you do. You kept saying stuff like ‘no, please, don't’. You seemed really scared. It’s not right to leave a friend when they’re like that.” Caboose continued to stare him down in a way that let him know he was going to dig his heels on this.
“Even if that’s true, you still had no right.”
“But you stopped talking when I hugged you back. It helped.”
“I don’t fucking care. Out. Now.”
Caboose got up, said bye and left. With him gone, Church searched for his glasses and phone. This revealed that it was nine thirty. He stared at the time in disbelief. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept that late. He thought back to those short moments before he realized Caboose was in his bed. He couldn’t remember a single time he woke up feeling that refreshed and relaxed.
He groaned in frustration. Why was everything such bullshit? He sat there fuming about why this had to be the only time he’s slept well before it occurred to him that maybe Caboose had nothing to do with it. He fell asleep watching an incredibly boring show. Maybe that relaxed him enough to let him fall asleep early and stayed asleep. Yeah that was probably it, and not Caboose spooning him. It had to be.