Work Text:
You slowly slid your key into the lock, the movement sluggish. Your limbs felt heavy as you turned the key, limbs weighed down by an entire week’s worth of utter fatigue. There was a dull throbbing in your head that hadn’t quite gone away for a while. All because of the stupid fuckass company and its stupid fuckass deadlines.
You missed the days where you could solve everything by smashing your problems into pieces with your crowbar. Almost everyday for the past week, you would have to stay in the office long after everyone had filed out, working and working and working. You had to repress the urge to launch the computer into your supervisor’s face when he smiled and told you to ‘bear with it for a little while until our sales go up’.
Sometimes, you’d have to trudge home in the middle of the night, walking on desolate streets for at least an hour to get home because there were no night buses in your area. But the worst part was that the hours where you and your resident clingy ghost were separated were lengthened by a considerable amount–so much so that Mr. Crawling actually thought you were gone for good the first time and was nearly unconsolable when you eventually made it back.
As soon as you opened the door, a wave of dizziness crashed over you and you nearly collapsed before the waiting Mr. Crawling could even pounce on you like he usually did.
Mr. Crawling’s happy smile faded and he dived forward to catch you just as you fell. “Human hurt?” He asked worriedly as he patted you all over. “What happen?” You were far too tired to come up with a proper excuse and instead buried your face into the crook of his neck, desperately wanting him to understand that you didn’t want to talk. A hand gently pushed your head back until you were face to face with Mr. Crawling, who was frowning.
“No hurt. Human sad? Angry?” The throbbing in your head intensified until it felt like someone was smashing a sledgehammer down on your head. The ceiling light was so bright it hurt. You squeezed your eyes shut and clamped your hands over your ears. Vaguely, you knew that this was unfair to Mr. Crawling, but everything hurt and literally any noise was going to be too loud right now.
Mr. Crawling’s hands were frantically patting your hand, long fingers cool against your skin as he stammered out more questions, “Angry me…? Human upset me? You no like me?” His voice held a nervous tremor as he stuttered out more questions that reverberated loudly in your skull. The clear distress in his tone made you hold yourself back from snapping at him.
You exhale heavily before trying to think of a response. ‘I’m not pissed at you, just fucking tired because my dumb shit supervisor decided to make me work overtime.’ Right, now, how do you get your point across in his language without completely mistranslating because of the stupid fucking headache pounding your head right now?
After a few long moments of thinking, you cut through Mr. Crawling’s slightly incoherent babbling. “Stop.”
He fell silent immediately, his hands trembling nervously as he held your hands ever so gently. Guilt surged in you as you watched him bow his head with the air of a criminal waiting to receive his verdict.
“Uh…Me not angry. Head hurt—hurt because tired.” You managed to say and brought a hand up to his cheek reassuringly. “Much tired.” You still weren’t that good at the language and was pretty sure that your grammar was entirely incorrect but oh well, it was the best you could manage.
Thankfully, it seemed like you got your point across successfully. Mr. Crawling’s hands stilled and his shoulders seemed to sag slightly in relief. He smiled, then took your hand and nuzzled into your palm, “Me understand. Rest together?”
A sticky, cloying, yet not at all unpleasant warmth bloomed in your chest. “Alright.”
You quietly resigned yourself to waking up to very sore muscles tomorrow morning, because there was no way you could haul yourself to your bed in this state, and Mr. Crawling couldn’t even walk so—
You let out an undignified yelp as Mr. Crawling slipped an arm under your knees, his other one around your shoulders and then…stood up. He stood up. His joints clicked as he drew himself to his full height, but ended up having to duck a little to avoid bumping the ceiling.
If it weren’t for how utterly exhausted you felt, your jaw would probably be on the ground.
Well, at least you were home now.