Actions

Work Header

Sleep Paralysis Straight Up Sucks (Badly)

Summary:

Amethio has been experiencing sleep paralysis for a few weeks and is unwilling to sleep because of this. As it turns out, he can only put off the inevitable for so long before exhaustion catches up to him.

 

Every time he even thinks about going to sleep, dread builds up in his stomach. He’s a teenager now, not a little kid, so he can’t just go running to his parents when things like this happen. Not that he has parents to run to, but that’s besides the point.

 

It’s just sleeping. Something everyone does. Easily. Most people have no issues with it, so why does he?

Notes:

Hits you with another Ametrio cuddling fic. I have a brand and I'm sticking to it. Also, the poor thing needs all the hugs he can get. Even if it takes passing out from exhaustion to get there.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Sleep is horrible.

In fact, sleep is probably one of the worst things to exist. If Amethio could get by without sleeping, he’d gladly do so. It’s a complete waste of time and Amethio can name twenty other things he’d rather be doing than sleeping.

He could be training with his pokemon, solving problems from his schoolwork, researching upcoming missions. Really, the possibilities are endless. There would be so much more time without sleep. And it’s so pointless, who wants to be vulnerable for eight hours of the day?

Really, if Amethio could talk to whoever is responsible for humankind’s reliance on sleep, he’d have a few choice words. There are so many drawbacks to sleeping that Amethio couldn’t possible name them all.

Amethio is tired.

Dead tired.

It’s been at least three days since he properly slept and he can’t put it off any longer. His body feels so heavy and every time he blinks he swears he has to catch himself from falling over.

He doesn’t want to go to sleep.

Memories of his last few attempts to rest come to mind, of seeing faces that weren’t there and being unable to move. He was later consoled that it was “just” sleep paralysis, as though knowing what it’s called will make it any less terrifying to see figures looming over his bed, trapped in his own body to do nothing but watch.

The search results said people usually only have one or two episodes in their lifetimes.

His have been frequent. Pretty much anytime he’s slept in the last two weeks has been accompanied by sleep paralysis, and it’s not even like it only happens when he’s falling asleep. It happens when he wakes up, too. Which is salt in the wound.

So here he is, miserable, clutching his pillow and staring at his bed.

He still doesn’t want to go to sleep.

Every time he even thinks about going to sleep, dread builds up in his stomach. He’s a teenager now, not a little kid, so he can’t just go running to his parents when things like this happen. Not that he has parents to run to, but that’s besides the point.

It’s just sleeping.

Something everyone does. Easily. Most people have no issues. Insomnia is fairly common, but not fear. What is he, a five year old afraid of the dark? Actually, maybe the dark is the problem.

His bedroom is isolated and dark, which is usually how he likes it. Recently, he's not so sure. When he thinks of being safe, he imagines himself surrounded by other people on a sunny day, because nothing can hurt him then.

The night doesn’t offer sun, but he has options to be less alone.

To bury his face in his pillow and pretend that the footsteps he hears belong to his coworkers and aren’t auditory hallucinations caused by sleep paralysis and made worse by sleep deprivation.

He knows the longer he stays awake, the worse the symptoms will be.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to go to bed. He already has enough issues getting himself to do the things he needs to do. When there’s no deadlines holding him in place, he spirals.

Clothes get strewn about his room and he doesn’t put them away. Laundry piles up and he doesn’t wash it or call anyone else to do it for him. The energy drink cans begin to overflow the recycling in his room and he can’t get himself to take care of it.

And now he can’t even get himself to sleep.

What went wrong? Why can’t he just do this? It should be so easy. Why isn’t it easy? It’s so difficult for him and he doesn’t understand why he has to be different. Maybe he was just assembled wrong.

His bed looks uninviting.

Formerly comfortable sheets remind him of the feelings of dread that came with waking up but being unable to move. Of imaging and seeing horrible things he’s convinced want to hurt him.

He doesn’t want to be alone.

Dressed in his sleepwear, quiet slippers pad down the hallway as he walks with a pillow tucked close to his chest. He’s not really sure what he’s looking for, just somewhere he thinks he could fall asleep.

The compound is quiet at this hour, but in the background he can make out the sounds of Onyx and Sango playing Mario Kart at 3am. It usually bothers him to hear, but now he finds himself comforted knowing other people are still up and about at this hour.

Without realizing, he ends up in one of the living room areas. This is where Zir and Conia usually play board games or watch movies, he sometimes likes to sit near them when they do. Maybe he was hoping they’d be here, but the room is empty. They’re probably asleep at this hour.

Their rooms are nearby, though not too close. It’s still convenient for them to come here because of the couches and big TV, rather than stay in their private quarters.

He looks apprehensively at the couch.

It would be more comfortable, but he doesn’t want to sleep there. He feels exposed and vulnerable. Facing the back of the couch, who knows what fear he’d feel if he woke up and couldn’t turn to see what was behind him. It’s a similar problem facing the room, not being able to see if something is looming over the side of the couch.

He considers the scene.

After a minute, his mind is made up. He quietly pushes the coffee table into the L of the couches, successfully covering two sides of the small table. Taking one of the throw blankets from the couch, he drapes it over one of the remaining sides, with the last one being partially covered.

Now it’s a little cave.

Grabbing another throw blanket, Amethio puts all of ten seconds worth of effort into folding and sliding it under the table. It’s a minuscule amount better than sleeping directly on the floor, though he gets the feeling his joints won’t be too happy with him regardless.

He shuffles under the coffee table with his pillow. It’s not comfortable, if he’s being honest, but he feels safe so its leagues better than sleeping in his own bed.

The moment his head hits the pillow, three days worth of exhaustion catch up to him all at once.

Conia is well aware that Amethio is both a teenager and her boss, which means he absolutely does not need someone checking in on him at night the same way parents with young children do to make sure they’re safe in bed.

However, she feels like its warranted with the current situation.

From what she can tell, it’s been multiple days since Amethio has gotten any sleep. He briefly drifted off on the way back from their last mission, but seemed really upset when he woke up. She’s not really sure what’s wrong, but she finds herself passing by his room anyway.

Just for peace of mind. If his door is closed and she can’t hear anything, then she can pretend he might be sleeping. Maybe if his door is open and he’s awake, she'll even encourage him to rest.

But that’s not what she finds, because his room door is both open and empty.

Just to make sure, she knocks three times on the open door and glances around his room. Where would he be at this hour? He wouldn’t fly off on his own, would he?

Who is she kidding, he would 100% do that.

It might be fine in other circumstances, but given how sleep deprived he’s been lately, the thought of him flying alone at 3am is horrifying, but maybe he’s just somewhere else in the compound.

Nothing to worry about.

Crisis management is one of the skills she put on her resume, after all. Not that this is a crisis, but she can still keep her cool. Briskly, she walks down the halls, scanning for any signs of life. She can hear Sango’s faint swearing in the distance, presumably at Onyx, but no sign of Amethio.

Maybe he’s in the-

“Conia?”

When she gets to the kitchen, Zir is already there and sipping a glass of water.

“Hi Zir”

He sets his cup down,

“Are you looking for something?”

Maybe she can recruit him,

“Amethio’s not in his room, so I want to see if I can find him”

Zir’s eyes widen minutely, as though he’s processing the implications of their sleep deprived teenage boss not being in the compound, which would likely mean flying, on his own, at 3am. Zir sets his cup in the sink.

“I can help you look, then”

The plan had been to split up to discreetly cover more ground, and because in the event they do find Amethio, he probably wouldn’t want to be tag teamed by his underlings.

But Zir barely has a moment to comprehend what he’s seeing before Conia enters the living room from the other hall.

“What, did you find him or-”

He waves her off and points to the coffee table. She stops talking, and it's clear when she recognizes the odd sight. He can’t see too much from where he’s standing, but it looks uncomfortable.

It’s only a minute before Conia slowly walks over to the coffee table and kneels down. He can see her reach forward and assumes she gives a nudge to their boss.

“Amethio?”

No response.

“Amethio, sir”

She tries again.

Convinced that he’s not going to wake up and see both of them crowding him, Zir steps forward to get a look at their boss. He’s tucked himself underneath a coffee table and the steady rise and fall of his breathing is the only thing that stopped Zir from freaking out before Conia stepped in.

“Come on, Amethio, sir, that can’t be comfortable”

It’s only concern in Conia’s voice when she tries to wake him for a third time. This attempt inspires a slight grumble, and he notices Amethio push his head farther into the pillow.

“It’s probably the lack of sleep catching up to him”

Conia hums in agreement,

“That’s true, but we can’t just leave him like that. He’ll wake up with pain in joints he didn’t know he had”

Zir kneels down next to them, reaching out to give a cautious nudge to their boss’s shoulder as well. Amethio remains unresponsive to the movement, so he doesn’t worry that he might wake up and get upset.

“Alright. How about we stay here, then? Whatever reason he decided to sleep under a coffee table of all places, he probably didn’t want to be in his own room”

She nods and heads down the hallway.

He might not be as smart as Conia, but he can at least connect those dots. Carefully, he moves to extract Amethio from under the coffee table, trying not to disturb him too much. The process is a touch short of graceful given that Amethio is functionally dead weight at this point, but he manages to slide the teenager out from his cave.

It sort of reminds him of playing with his nieces and nephews. Sometimes during hide and seek they wouldn’t leave their hiding place until he dragged them out, and in other games they would get distracted and fall asleep, leaving him to bring them to bed.

Amethio is older, but Zir still finds himself viewing him in a similar light. And it's only partly because he decided to sleep under a table, which for the record, is something every child does until the age of like five or so. Small children just love to sleep in weird places.

Small children and Amethio. It’s fine, he’s certain that mixed with not sleeping for three days, there’s some perfectly valid and perfectly concerning reason for their boss to do this.

Amethio is leaning against him, and to his surprise, the teenager lazily brings his arms around Zir, as though he were returning a hug even though he’s dead asleep. It’s cute. Amethio has never hugged him before. This only sort of counts, but its still a hug.

“You owe me $40”

He never should’ve made that bet,

“Hold on, he’s not awake so does it really count?”

Conia drops the pillows and blankets she brought onto the couch,

“The bet was which one of us he hugs first, so I’d like to hear you explain what that is, if it’s not a hug”

Zir frowns. He swore that Conia would be the most likely person Amethio would hug out of the two of them. He still thinks its cheating because Amethio isn’t awake to be aware of the hug status, but he doesn’t feel like defining this as unintentional cuddling or general clinginess really helps his case here.

“Okay, okay, you're right. It’s a hug”

He’s about to continue his quiet argument with Conia over the specifics of whether or not Amethio has to be awake in order for the hug to count, when Amethio tightens his grip and tries to bury his face into Zir’s shoulder, as though he was hiding from something.

Memories of his younger family members come to mind again, and Zir finds himself gently weaving his fingers through Amethio’s hair before he can even consider the action,

“Having a nightmare, bud? It’s okay, ‘m not going anywhere”

A mantra he’s repeated to many distressed children throughout his years as an uncle, and one that he so easily repeats now. Maybe he’s just imagining it, but Amethio seems to relax ever so slightly at the words, though the hands tightly clutching the fabric of his sweater don’t let go, still clinging onto Zir like a life preserver.

Not for the first time, Zir wonders if Amethio has anyone to go to when he’s scared.

“Wow, you’re good at that. Now come on, it’s time to get off the floor. You two can’t sleep there”

Looking up, Zir realizes Conia pulled out the couch bed and set up some pillows. Amethio isn’t usually the clingy sort, so Zir elects to set Amethio on the couch and rest nearby. That way Amethio can still go to him if he wakes up distressed. Or, that was what Zir intended to do.

When he tries to deposit the teenager, those bawled up fists still don’t let go of his sweater, and Zir can’t find it in him to remove him. Not when he’s finally reaching out for support. So Zir lays down next to him and let’s Amethio seek reprieve from his loneliness, content to deal with any pushback in the morning.

Amethio can be upset at him later, if he likes, but he needs him now. Or he needs someone and Zir happens to be available.

Click

Just as they settle into place on the couch, he hears Conia snap a photo. He can’t blame her, really. Amethio never shows any cracks in his stoic facade and then suddenly he’s clinging to Zir like a Komala? It’s photo-worthy.

“You two are good like that for tonight?”

Zir answers with a yawn,

“Mhm-hm. He can be clingy, if he likes”

There’s a quiet laugh from Conia before she drapes a blanket over the two of them and retreats to the other section of the couch, pulling a blanket of her own over herself.

With nothing else to do, Zir lets himself focus on the steady rise and fall of Amethio’s breathing. It’s comforting to him, so maybe Amethio feels the same way. He used to calm down his sister’s kids by holding them near to his heart, so he barely registered Amethio doing the same thing.

In and out. Rise and fall.

Before long, Zir is drifting off alongside Amethio.

The first thing Amethio notices when he wakes up is that there are no foreboding figures waiting to greet him. He doesn't feel scared, and when he tries to move his hand, he’s able to.

No sleep paralysis, then.

Amethio opens his eyes to see who exactly he’s laying next to, and is relieved to find its just Zir. When he sleepily glances around the room, he spots Conia resting nearby, splayed out on the adjourning couch.

Maybe another time Amethio would be upset at waking up like this, of realizing they moved him in his sleep and being hit by burning embarrassment at clinging to Zir like some toddler.

But none of that comes. He’s still so tired, and Zir is someone he can trust.

There will be no shadowy figures waiting for him as long as he’s here. No waking up with the ice cold fear of being unable to move. Because he knows even if he finds himself struck by immobility, that nothing bad will happen.

Bad things only happen when he’s alone.

And he’s not alone.

Content that his rest will be well-guarded, Amethio breathes out and decides to go back to sleep. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out for, but its certainly not long enough for how much sleep he has to catch up on.

With heavy eyes and a tiredness that's bone-deep, Amethio lets himself give into exhaustion. For the first time in weeks, he finds he’s not afraid of what will happen when he closes his eyes.

For the first time in weeks, Amethio feels safe.

Notes:

Amethio just strikes me as the type of person who would sleep under a table. There's a little cave down there. Tell me that's not cool