Chapter Text
Nervous Subject was very good at pretending to sleep; he often used this tactic to avoid talking to the Beakers. The only times this did not work was when the Beakers wanted to conduct experiments and decided to ‘wake’ him. He also pretended to sleep when he had insomnia, which was most nights. Nervous stood at the top of the stairs to the basement, only illuminated by the computer monitor's light. Nervous descended; the basement was both his sanctuary and his prison. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” Loki howled from somewhere in the house. Nervous ran down the stairs, never reaching the bottom. He slipped as he lost his footing, falling on his back.
The sensation of falling jerked Nervous Subject awake; he did not immediately recognize where he was. The clinical white tile walls reminded him that he was at 2 Cover Up Road. He rolled over and spotted Pascal across the room, curled under his duvet. His tousled black hair contrasted against the light green pillow. Pascal’s face was as neutral as it was when he was awake, but it lacked the solemnity that the man tried so hard to present to the world. The soft features of his face were only more apparent in his sleep. Even from feet away, Nervous could see how Pascal’s thick lashes cast small shadows down his cheeks. He watched as the duvet slowly rose and fell as Pascal breathed.
It had been just under a year since Nervous escaped the Beakers; they left Strangetown shortly after, but Nervous feared them returning and taking him again. Pascal’s friendship was the lifeline that saved him. Even so, Nervous hated that he was a strain on the Curious Brothers; four men and a toddler shared one bathroom. He had nothing to offer but childcare. He feared that one day he would overstay his welcome, or worse, he feared that he would do something to earn Pascal’s scorn. Nervous felt something rotten inside him, which compelled others to abandon or mistreat him. He did not know why Pascal had not seemed to see that yet.
Nervous wanted Pascal’s reassurance. He wanted Pascal to wake up, ask him what was wrong, or tell him it was okay. But Pascal needed sleep. Tycho had been going through a phase where he cried whenever Pascal left the room, and his teething only made it harder to settle. Nervous contented himself with knowing that Pascal was there. A warm feeling filled Nervous as he watched his friend sleep. He could not imagine life without Pascal. Nervous fell asleep, knowing he was safe.
Pascal slept longer than intended, but he needed it. Last night was a good night: Tycho slept without incident. Vidcund’s indoor garden had been changed to a nursery, and Tycho found it hard not to sleep in the same room as his dad. Pascal found it hard, too, but he worried it would harm Tycho’s development if they continued sharing a room. Baby monitors helped. He left his room, “Tycho’s over here, Paz.” Lazlo watched his nephew eat Cheerios from the high chair tray, “Good job, little man! Thanks for not throwing them that time.”
Lazlo smiled and clapped. Tycho returned the gesture while babbling excitedly. Tycho’s cherubic and dimpled cheeks were covered in drool and cereal. Pascal saw Cheerios on the black tile beneath the high chair. He swept them up with the hand broom and dustpan. Vidcund was at the sink, refilling the humidifier; his plants were scattered around the house now. “I didn’t mean to sleep that long,” Pascal poured himself a cup of coffee. “Yeah, it’s not like you’ve been sleeping like crap lately,” Vidcund sarcastically retorted. “But still,” Pascal sipped his coffee; it was still too hot for his liking. “Paz,” Lazlo used Tycho’s bib to wipe the spit from his chin, “You should just ask us to help at night.” Pascal dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand, “I feel guilty. Work has me away from Tycho all day. What am I doing if I’m not caring for him when I’m home?” Pascal added creamer to his coffee to cool it down, “Did you know he called Nervous ‘Dada’ the other day? He hasn’t called me ‘Dada’ yet.” Lazlo and Vidcund exchanged a knowing look. “And that’s a problem because….?” “Because I’m his dad, and I’m never home!” Pascal closed the fridge door harder than he meant to, he showed more emotion than he meant to. “Dude, I used to call Jenny ‘Mama,’ it doesn’t mean anything. Tycho knows you’re his dad.” Pascal walked over to his son. Tycho raised his tiny arms and babbled as he bounced in the highchair, motioning for Pascal to pick him up. “Tuck your arms,” Tycho pulled his arms in as Pascal unbuckled him. Pascal balanced the toddler on his hip, “You slept well, huh? Your teeth didn’t hurt?” Tycho grabbed at his dad’s nose, “Bababa,” Pascal listened to the babble as if Tycho was saying words. “I’m glad you feel good, Tycho. It’s not fun to teethe, huh?” Pascal brushes his fingers through Tycho’s bowl cut, fixing his fringe. The hair, combined with the toddler’s green pointed ears, makes him look like a Vulcan.
Nervous Subject stepped out of the bathroom, smelling like hairspray. Tycho spots and points at the man, smiling. Pascal turns around and waves at his friend, “Morning.” Nervous gives a wave back as he approaches, “Morning.” “Look who it is, Tycho!” Tycho waves his arms at Nervous, “Ap, ap!” “He wants you to hold him now.” Pascal hands Tycho off to Nervous. He uses this opportunity to get ready for the day. “Hi Tycho,” Nervous coos. Tycho replies in a babble. Lazlo and Vidcund always felt mildly uncomfortable around Nervous Subject when Pascal was not in the room. They were not sure what he was to Pascal. To them, Nervous was more or less a roommate who kept to himself. Still, Lazlo made an effort. “How’s it going, man?” Nervous blinks at Lazlo, “Fine.” “We heard Tycho called you ‘Dada’ the other day.” “Is Pascal mad at me?” Vidcund turns his head, “No? He seemed a little upset, but it's understandable with everything he’s been dealing with.” Nervous somehow grows paler, imagining Pascal ranting to his brothers about the incident. He imagines Pascal resenting him and kicking him to the streets. “I- I didn’t mean for it.” “It’s whatever, man. Things happen.” Lazlo boots up Morrowind on the desktop, oblivious to the man’s distress. Vidcund noticed Nervous twitching a little more than usual. “You know how Paz has been lately. It was only a matter of time with the lack of sleep… You should, uh, sit down.” Nervous sat in front of the TVs, internally freaking out. Vidcund wondered why his brother’s friend had a silent breakdown over being told that Pascal was tired.
Before long, Pascal emerged from the bathroom, ready for the day. “You should take Tycho,” Nervous spoke fast. “Is everything okay? Is he being fussy?” Nervous handed Tycho to Pascal and retreated to the bedroom. Pascal turned to Vidcund, “What happened?” Vidcund shrugged as he found something to watch. He settled for a Jurassic Park rerun. Pascal put Tycho on the floor, and the toddler crawled to the toybox. Metal could be heard playing from Pascal’s room. “I don’t know, he’s kinda hard to talk to… And live with… And look at.” Pascal just stared at his blond brother. Lazlo added, “I think this whole thing is above your pay grade, dude. Like he has real issues.” “I’ve made progress with him. You two would know that if you tried talking to him.”
Pascal felt himself getting defensive, but he was able to hide most of it. His brothers could see right through him. “He is kind of a jerk to anyone but you, Paz. Lazlo tried talking to him and he just shut down.” “You remind him of Loki, Vidcund. That’s why he doesn’t engage with you.” Vidcund scoffed, “That sort of sounds like a him problem.” “We’re making progress ,” Pascal replied brusquely. “I say this with love, dude. I don’t think you should juggle a toddler and someone who needs professional help.” “I am a professional.” Lazlo and Vidcund exchanged a look, “Bro, you’re an armchair psychologist at best.” Pascal held a hand up to his chest, indignant, “I almost minored in psychology!” Pascal was met with silence; his brothers knew better than to talk to him when he got like this. He sat with Tycho, watching his son dump the toys and stack foam blocks on the floor.
This Sunday felt like a real Sunday: no errands, no chores. Each member of the household spent the morning idly. “Did we ever find out why the ash slaves stacked the chairs?” Lazlo turned to Vidcund, having gone back to Kogoruhn in Morrowind . Vidcund shrugged. “I assumed they needed to sweep or something.” the ringing phone jars everyone in the room from their activity. “I’ll get it,” Lazlo gets up from his chair and stretches before taking the phone from the receiver. “Hi, Jenny! … Nothing much… Nah, I was just playing a videogame… Everyone’s good… Tycho’s doing great… Oh yeah? Sounds cool… We’ll see you then… Okay, I love you too, tell everyone I said ‘hi’… Okay, I will… Okay, bye.” Lazlo hangs up and struts back to his brothers, “You know what that was! Paul is smoking a brisket next Monday!” Each Memorial Day, the Smiths hosted a family barbecue.
“It would be great for Nervous to get out of the house,” Pascal adjusted his glasses. Vidcund imagined Nervous Subject freaking out at the barbecue. “Is he ready for something like that? He strikes me as a homebody.” “Sure he is,” Lazlo included himself in the conversation. “Besides, most people are bringing a date. At this point, it’s tradition.” Pascal blushed lightly, glaring his brother down for teasing him, “It’s not like that.” “It’s not like what , Paz?” Pascal could only look at Lazlo. Anything else he said could be used against him. Lazlo fished Kitty’s Betty Crocker cookbook from the bookshelf, “But that guy is timid. Maybe Vidcund is right.” “No, I’m shy. That guy is antisocial,” Vidcund pointed in the direction of the room his brother and roommate shared. Pascal crossed his arms, “You don’t know him like I do.” Vidcund and Lazlo exchange glances. “I’m gonna invite him. Watch Tycho for a moment?” Vidcund gives Pascal a thumbs up and watches his nephew bang blocks together.
Music was a good outlet for Nervous Subject. He could stop thinking about his life and focus on the lyrics and the guitar riffs. The screaming was cathartic. Pascal knocks on the door, and Nervous pauses his music, “I wanna talk to you,” “Okay.” Nervous was expecting the worst; he was expecting Pascal to tell him it was time for him to go. Nervous was frozen on the bed. “It’s nothing bad,” Pascal was used to Nervous being, well, nervous. However, he noticed his friend acting jumpier than usual. “You okay, buddy?” Nervous nodded frenetically. “My sister is hosting a barbecue next week. Do you wanna go with me?” Pascal sat on his bed, facing his roommate.
Nervous hated leaving the house. He feared that Loki was not truly gone and was lying in wait. He feared that Loki would come back and take him as a test subject again. Pascal watched as Nervous chewed his fingers. Blood oozed from torn hangnails. “It’s just gonna be family and close friends.” Nervous imagined Pascal’s entire family gathering around to tell him that the grimborn was a dangerous freak. He imagined Pascal agreeing with them. “Idunno… I can stay here.” “There’s gonna be a brisket and a pool.” Pascal watched as Nervous absentmindedly rubbed the scars on his arms. It occurred to him that he never saw the grimborn without a shirt; he likely had more scars on his torso. “You don’t have to swim. You can just hang out. It’s down the road.” Bizarre scenarios ran through his mind as Nervous chewed the skin around his nails. Each of them ended in his abandonment. “I wanna stay here.” Pascal did not want to push further. Progress with Nervous was sometimes slow. A large family gathering would always be out of his comfort zone. “I understand, maybe another time.” Pascal lingered for a moment before feeling that Nervous wanted to be alone. As he left the room, he heard Nervous put his music back on.