Chapter Text
Nick made sure to not take too long getting back to work.
Rhonda needed help setting shop up again outside of Los Perdidos.
He needed to stuff down the part of him that wanted to go back home because “home” didn’t exist anymore.
Machinery always made him feel more at ease anyways, the repetitive motions made everything a little more cut and dry.
Familiar routine to clear his mind.
Still, it was hard not to overwork himself when that was basically his only outlet.
Obviously Rhonda wouldn’t let him, always forcing him to go take his break at a reasonable hour.
So whenever he had free time he would just… go find something else to make instead.
Waste precious time working himself to the bone making junk instead of going home and sleeping.. Or in his case, staring at the ceiling until morning.
They weren’t much different than the (useful) heaps of junk he scrounged together back in Los Perdidos.. It always seemed to trail back to that.
It was so stupid, it's so annoying how easily frustrating everything was now.
Too much going on outside of his head wasn’t helping at all.
But, it was all cool since Annie liked watching him build his contraptions. At the moment she was looking through the blueprints Nick kept in a single notebook, giggling.
“Is that me?”
(Nick would often sidetrack— doodling on the corners of the pages. Nowadays it was mostly Annie since her face was the one that came to his mind the easiest, it was pretty sappy but who cares. It made them both happy.)
And so he looked up, over at her like a lost puppy (he always had that aura about him, cute).
“Huh? — Oh, yeah.”
She smiled at him.
“It's cute, you should draw more often.”
Nick could feel his face heat up.
“...Thanks.”
He kept tinkering around with the… What was he even building?
It didn't matter because Annie interrupted him who knows how long into his mindless routine, tapping his shoulder from behind.
“Nick, it's getting dark.. My dad gets weird about me getting home late y’know.”
What time was it?
…Did it matter?
“...I’ll walk you home if you'd like.”
The walk was too quiet, miraculously his brain didn't take the opportunity to start nagging him again. As they reached the building where Annie lived with Chuck where she gave him a quick peck on the lips and a goodbye.
Nick turned to begin his walk back.
The routine after was relatively quiet.
simple and repetitive, just like he liked it.
walk back to his designated building spot, clean up, walk home, eat whatever scraps he had in the fridge… Then sleep.
Ok, maybe it wasn't as simple as it used to be.
The only real addition was the scrap building, but somehow that wasn't what threw him off.
It was the lack of sleep.
Hours upon hours spent starting at the ceiling hoping to drift off.
Sometimes he’d doze off only to awaken covered in sweat, shaking uncontrollably.
Then he’d have to get up and waste whatever time he had left before needing to leave for work.
The bare medicine cabinet he’d checked for the 5th time that week did little to stifle his frustration, only reminding him he'd forgotten to see if he could get melatonin… again.
Maybe if he was lucky enough a pharmacy nearby would still be open, it was common enough in most big cities.
…
Scratch that. He was too tired to lug himself outside again. It felt like he'd slammed his head against a wall several times.
With the little cognitive function remaining in his conscious mind, he finally decides to write down the age-old message.
“GO TO THE PHARMACY. BUY SLEEP AID. DON’T! FORGET!!”
Hopefully he won't forget this time.
A sharp pain in his stomach reminds him that he too, forgot to eat.
Not wanting to worsen his already shitty mood, he shambles to his kitchen, opening the fridge and examining the contents.
He groaned as nothing inside was enough to eat cold or simply microwave.
The universe fucking hated him.
Eventually he settles on sucking it up and just making some goddamn scrambled eggs. It was embarrassingly easy despite how exhausted he was.
Still, it was delicious.
He doesn't remember anything past that point.