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He shook. The kind of uncomfortable shaking that was due to some external pressure that couldn’t be easily defined. Whether for worry or for hunger or for far too much caffeine, it couldn’t be said. All Doc knew was he couldn’t place these blocks straight.
His head ached as he squinted down at the plans for this storage unit. He loved the feeling of organization, of knowing where everything was, of being in control of the blocks and their placement. However, it was much work to create a storage system he was content with.
And it was even more difficult when he couldn’t think.
It could be the lack of sleep. It could be the worry that any second, an anvil could fall upon his head. It could be hunger from skimping out on meals. It could be the coffee, but typically that never did bother him.
Even if he was smart enough to solve this mystery of wandering, jumpy mind and shaky block placement, Doc didn’t want to think about it. Instead, mixed a potion of slowness into a cup of water, hoping that would steady the impulse to frantic movement and a million miles a minute thought.
It was a temporary fix, along with a fix for hunger being trail mix. It never fully solved the problem. It never got to the root of anything. And once the potion wore off, Doc felt just overall achy and miserable. It could’ve been slowness side effects. Now his brain was back online and fully aware that it felt like he’d been splashed with weakness.
Logically, the easiest solution was sleep.
He moved over to his couch, leaning back, but keeping watch of his front door. He wouldn’t fully go to sleep, just rest his body some. Lying down should do the trick well enough.
Doc woke up to the sound of rummaging outside. Mentally, he cursed at his falling asleep. Just resting around when it wasn’t safe. Furthermore, this short nap made him feel far worse than before, yet another indicator that all he needed was good sleep.
But Doc couldn’t afford good sleep, considering it’d kill him.
Rather, Etho would kill him.
He deserved it, of course. Doc started a war with someone who wasn’t far below his level — or below it at all. He was playing with a strategist who could practically predict his every move. While it was more fun at times to have a player who could test and push him, it was far more stressful in the preparations.
And while the storage system had somewhat helped his anxious mind, leaving it wandering instead of pondering, now he was being crushed by a ton of bricks. His eyes were heavy, his body was weak, he was absolutely nothing and his enemy was out there, sneaking around, preparing for an attack.
The best he could do for himself was get up out of bed and try to prepare. If he stayed a sitting duck, he’d most definitely lose. If nothing else, he needed to try. (If nothing else, he needed to stay strong for himself. He wasn’t going to lose. He wasn’t going to lose his status of being feared in death games.)
With enough of a pep talk, Doc hoisted himself up off the couch and made his way to his security system. Pretty much every square — cubed inch of his base was watched. There was no way any intruder could get past him. (Though he still doubted it. He needed more cameras in place. He needed more alarms. There was someone out there that he hadn’t spotted yet.)
After enough staring, he realized the noise he heard was a flap of wings. A few phantoms were trying to find their way in.
“No need to worry. I’m safe. I’ve made sure I’m safe.”
He fell asleep again soon after, neck craned forward and back arched to let his head rest on the table. It wasn’t restful in the slightest.
He woke up a couple hours to find a sign right in front of him, reading: “Sleep”.
“No.”
The house wasn’t people-proofed. Or Etho-proof. Whoever it was that came in. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the security measures did nothing. People could still get in. Hermits could outwit Doc. He was in danger to whoever decided it’d be funny to kill him.
He may have struggled to think straight with all the worry, but if there was something Doc knew, it was that he could not, ever again, sleep.
Two weeks later Doc was struggling. Sleep deprivation was no joke. Some days he felt sick, full-blown headache and weariness and lack of stability. Other days were somewhat manageable, with lighter symptoms. Still horrible. Still bad enough that his thoughts had clouded over.
Naps became more and more frequent by the day. They never helped, only adding to the anxiety that he could not control when he was awake or asleep.
And he constantly felt watched. Someone was out there. Someone snuck past all protocols put in place. Someone — Etho — was better than him, more competent.
“He’s getting more sleep. By the time he decides to strike, I’ll be half alive anyway.”
It was depressing in some ways. He was losing at the psychological level alone. This wasn’t even the final battle. There were no anvils hanging above his head.
He was dying to anticipation.
In another battle, against Grian with the charged creepers, against Scar with the flag and music, against Ren with the free-state perimeter… he’d won. He knew his opponent and he knew how to get above them.
The roles were reversed in this situation. Since both knew the other so well, both knew how to fear the other into vulnerability. If Doc had really tried to break Etho to begin with, he probably could have.
Instead, Doc would crash and burn under the idea of a crushing anvil, while Etho would not.
He should’ve seen it from all along. He was a checkmate from the beginning.
A woosh came through his base, much more obvious than phantom flaps. He looked over at his cameras.
It was just Bdubs. No one he couldn’t handle.
Still, he stood stiffly. He made himself bigger, or as big as his dysfunctional brain could manage. When Bdubs came into the room though, he realized his “grand height” wasn’t as grand as he felt.
“You look pretty tired, man. When’ve you last slept?”
Doc tried glaring at him coldly, but already felt his morale slipping. Even against Bdubs he was nothing. “I’m just… really busy.”
“Mhm.” Bdubs frowned a little. “And what’re you so busy with? What’s more important than shreepin’?”
He held back from rubbing at his eyes, feeling the pull of sleep as it was practically offered to him. “I’ve started a war. Until I win, no sleep.”
Bdubs crossed his arms, posture firm. In contrast, he gazed pitifully. “So not even a little nap? No ceasefire at all? And how come I didn’t hear about no war?”
Doc walked around the room, starting to slouch a bit more as he scanned the room for some project to keep his mind busy. “Killed an AFK Etho and now I’m waiting patiently for his revenge.”
Bdubs stifled a laugh, though Doc didn’t look back to read the bemused expression. “Are you scared?”
Doc didn’t respond, though mildly worried that if he stayed too quiet, he might doze off while standing up.
When getting no rebuttal, Bdubs suggested, “You could just set up an alarm system.”
He suppressed an eye roll at the ingenious plan. “I’ve tried, genius. I don’t think I could create something foolproof anyway. Can’t think straight.”
“So you admit you’re tired,” Bdubs said smugly.
“Absolutely exhausted,” he answered monotonously. “But there isn’t anything I can do except wait it out.”
“You’re not putting up too much of a fight,” Bdubs observed.
“Don’t feel like it, honestly.” He gave a long sigh, energy draining out in just one breath.
“What if… you come to my base and you can sleep there and I’ll protect you from any intruders or traps!”
“Says the person who had Etho in their basement just a few months ago.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Bdubs brushed off the thought with no consideration of the danger. “If he hasn’t killed you already, then you’re probably in the clear for one night, if not more. And if he does, then I’ll just bribe him to sleep, easy.”
It was a solution. Whether it was a good one was to be seen.
But, if he had sleep, Doc might be able to live longer, if not win the war entirely.
“Fine.” He wanted sleep anyway, and Bdubs wasn’t about to give up.
“Good.”
The two carefully flew high above the terrain. Bdubs had offered to be a point of stability, but even if Doc was off balance a little, he would not accept help as such so easily. With the slow glide, a part of Doc worried they’d be spotted. He had to remind himself that Etho’s base was as far as could be from his own, meaning unless he was lurking in the shadows, Doc should be fine.
He didn’t voice his concern, staying quiet the entire flight, as his thoughts circled worries.
After five minutes of flight, which felt more like thirty, the two made it safely to their destination.
“Now, the place is still absolutely tiny, but I’ve tried doing what I can to make it a bit more spacious,” Bdubs said, pushing the door open.
Doc made his way up the stairs slowly. Hesitating, as if a part of himself still worried there was great danger. Any step he took could be his last.
As he stepped forward into the bedroom, he found his concerns to be valid.
“Hey Doc.”
He glared at his opponent, who seemed to smile from the bed. (The eyes alone spoke volumes.) But it wasn’t… aggressive or challenging. It was just… a friendly smile.
Doc stood straight and still, expression stark contrast.
“Come on! You can at least be nice. It’s not like he killed you with an anvil!” Bdubs exclaimed, shoving Doc forward.
He turned his head back for only a second to read Bdubs. He then carefully backed his way into a wall, as to get a full look of the room, leaving nothing out of sight. “You planned this,” he growled.
“You weren’t shreepin! We had to do something!”
Doc straightened up instinctively. His fur fluffed out, creating static particles.
“I’m not here to kill you. I just knew if anyone would get you out of your base, it’d be Bdubs.”
“And instead of having to come to me, you brought me to you.”
“I’m not going to war. That’s for another day.”
He and Etho locked eyes. Doc tried to burn right through him, he tried to scan every inch for any hostility. But there was nothing.
“You swear?” The static effect slowed down.
“Promise.”
He loosened up just a little and his fur flattened out a bit. He still kept a careful watch on the room.
“Besides, killing you in your sleep would be incredibly boring,” Etho added with a small glint in his eyes. Doc gave a death stare, and his amused air halted. “Woah. Just teasing. I’m not going to, and I don’t really want to either.” As he backpedaled, Etho never sounded worried. He wasn’t scared of Doc or his big angry presence.
And Doc wanted to be scary. He wanted to be stronger than everyone else. He wanted to be feared when he made himself big. He wanted to know that anyone around him would cower. Yeah, he wanted people to trust him, but he also wanted to be feared.
And more than anything, that lack of fear was scary. People who were afraid were much easier to defeat than those who stayed even keel.
“He’s not lying, Doc. We just want you to get some rest. Nobody wants anybody to get hurt.” Bdubs forcefully gave him a hug. “We’re friends. We’re not going to put you in danger.”
He hated the gentle hug, the calm tone, the quiet of the room. He was nearly sick to his stomach at being treated with care like he was delicate.
“I know it’s safe,” he rumbled out, holding back his anger so as to not shock Bdubs. But as he started acting prickly, Bdubs pulled away, as if noting that charged static could occur at any second.
“You’re right,” Etho said, incredibly calm as the two would raise their voices and yell over each other. “And since it’s safe, you can get some sleep.”
He couldn’t. It wasn’t that easy. He could say it was, he could promise safety, he could withhold his attack. But trust wasn’t that easy. Trust wasn’t that safe.
Another part of him reasoned it should be safe. That what home was made to be — a safe haven no matter what. They lived in a world where they could play war and still be buddies. There was always trust.
Maybe Doc was the only one without trust.
“But, and I’ll say this again, I promise I’m not going to initiate any war. Especially if you’re not up for it.” It was only meant to be nice and reassuring.
It wasn’t. At all. Etho saw Doc’s weakness. Well, perceived him as weak. He had no weakness. They could go to war any day now, and everything would be fine. Doc could handle it. He was strong.
“I’m not the enemy. It’s just a game,” Etho said before Doc had time to flair up at him. He kept his words steady, still unafraid and strong and just stupidly aware of the unspoken conflict in Doc’s head. He understood too much.
“I know. I know.” With a careful step, Doc got a bit closer to Etho. And closer. And closer. Until he sat down on the side of the bed, incredibly near and vulnerable and in danger.
While he knew the tension was all in his head, that there was nothing to be afraid of, he still couldn’t be at peace.
It was so stupidly vulnerable.
Bdubs then sat next to him, leaning against Doc. “We’re here, if you ever want to talk,” Bdubs said, breaking a fairly lengthy silence. “I know it’s hard. But we don’t judge you for whatever’s going on in your head.”
Doc just nodded, staying silent, refusing to admit to any fear. (If he stayed too quiet, he’d fall asleep. He’d lose control. He’d die.)
“What if we just… go to sleep and stuff. Let your brain process everything and then if you still need to yell at us, you can,” Bdubs suggested.
He would not admit to a fear of sleep. That was dumb and he didn’t need to expose himself to that. He would just follow orders and lie down, keeping wide awake as the other two slept peacefully.
It took a couple minutes before they were all situated across the three-block wide bed with the lights all out and the blankets spread evenly. Even if he was supposed to be resting in the comfort of it all, he kept every muscle stiff.
“I know you’re just forcing yourself awake,” Bdubs told him. “You’re missing out on snuggles.” He wrapped his arms around Doc, somehow managing to get comfortable in such an awkward position.
Even with the dead weight over him (or what was about to become a sleeping weight), he still never got to sleep. It was too quiet. It was too tense. There was danger in all this, because these two knew too much, they knew him too well and could—
Of course, they wouldn’t do anything to hurt Doc, because they were all friends. And friends didn’t just turn on each other, especially because of a prank. Of course not. It was all irrational.
And this irrationality was dumb and silly. Who worried about these things?
“He’s asleep, right?” Doc whispered.
“I think so.” Etho sat up, observing the lump of a human that seemed to stretch out across the entire bed. “You good?”
Doc took in a deep breath, nerves of just admitting some sort of weakness building up. This was so silly. “Uh… no. Not really.” He shakily exhaled.
“Do you, uh?”
Neither of them were really good with “words” when it came down to it. It’d be so much easier to duel it out on a minigame. “I mean, kind of?” He gave a quick glance at Bdubs, having to arch himself upright a little to see him.
“Would, like, questions help?”
Doc gave a nervous, quiet laugh, still feeling stupid about initiating this conversation. “I don’t know.”
They got silent for a moment. It was a long enough moment to rethink decisions and feel silly for bringing up topics that were difficult to navigate.
“What is it that’s… bugging you and stuff?”
With a few seconds to consider it, Doc answered carefully, “You two know me too well. And I don’t like that. It’s uh, scary, I guess.” Ironically, the fear of exposing himself was forcing him to expose himself. Maybe exposing himself was exposure therapy, and eventually he wouldn’t care if he was seen.
“Guess a bit of its pride, you know. Just not wanting to lose, be the strongest and stuff.” It felt a little easier to go on now that he’d started. “And it’s hard to win if everyone knows your weaknesses.”
“Makes sense.” That little bit of validation went a long way. And while yes, Doc was opening himself up, he wasn’t belittled. “We see it a lot on the Life series. People exploiting weaknesses and fears. You learn how to manage certain people based on what makes them tick. Wouldn’t want that happening here.”
“Exactly.” Doc nodded a little, still careful not to wake Bdubs. “And I know you guys wouldn’t— nobody’s that messed up. It’s still…”
“Head messes with you.”
“Yeah.”
Surprisingly, being upfront about the problem made it easier to relax. Maybe that was the trust being exercised.
“Again, if we need to hold off on the war stuff because you mentally just shouldn’t do it, that’s fine.”
While Doc would want to say he could handle it, that he could take it, that he was strong enough to fight all day long… “Yeah. If we could. For a few days at least.”
“Perfect. Gives me more time to plan my attack.”
With careful, small motion, Doc shoved him slightly.
“Hey– we said no war!” Etho got him back, just a little harder.
“I didn’t kill you. It’s not war.”
“Nearly.”
“It’s not,” Doc debated.
“You sure?” Etho pinned his arm down in place with the risk of being shoved over again.
“Absolutely sure.” But sadly for Etho, he had no power against the metal arm that overpowered him just enough. In a short few seconds Doc had won with just an arm, pulling Etho up against him. “But just in case it was, I won.”
Even if a few days of rest were needed before Doc got back into a full fledged war, it never hurt to have a little friendly fire.