Work Text:
Pac was so cold. He felt like he was drifting weightlessly through a dreamworld. The currents push him along, lulling him to sleep.
His eyes shot open abruptly, the sensation hit him like a truck. He couldn’t breathe.
He managed to focus his eyes, but nothing made sense in the panic. He tried to swim up but his bruised, cut ridden limbs didn’t listen. His chest was convulsing, in need of a breath, but it got none. It was only a little over a minute, but it felt like an eternity.
He could feel his life fade away and the pain of his lungs in desperation for air. Mike, Richarlyson, he needed to survive, if not for himself, for them. He struggles one last time, adrenaline hitting, his chest a spasming mess, his arms finally moving and reaching for his throat, scratching.
The lack of air was becoming too much. He was scared. He felt his eyes start to close, his mouth that kept the water out was starting to open, he saw the last of his air in bubbles rise to the surface, and, lastly, his arms fell to his side. His mind was blank as unconsciousness seized him.
-
His eyes opened. His arms shot up to his throat, feeling the ridged edges of scratch marks, adrenaline pumping. His clothes were barely damp, giving him some sense of a timeframe. The floor was hard concrete, but it wasn’t dry.
He sat, not knowing what else to do. He sat, and waited.
Pac could feel the persistent goosebumps on his skin. He could feel beads of something dripping down his arm, he wasn’t sure if it was his blood, someone else's, or the water that he's been hearing methodically drip and echo off the concrete floor; a dreadful metronome. It was too dark to see, all he could make out was the silhouette of his limbs and shining iron bars that kept him there, surrounding him at all angles.
Pac had been in situations like this before, prisons had become a little too familiar to him. Though this was not like the other times, he was alone. He didn’t have Mike or any familiar faces, the only other presence he knew of was whoever was screaming not too far away from him.
He had no sense of how long he had been there since he arrived now. He could have been there for weeks, days, or maybe even just a few hours, he wasn’t sure. Everything melted together as he sat shaking in the cold, wet cell.
He just wanted it to be over, get back to normal. Build with Mike and Richarlyson, and get into their usual shenanigans. It's been awhile since he’s seen Fit, too. He wonders if he’s looking for him, maybe at this same moment, but the thought was soon shaken from his head. Hope would only make the situation worse the longer he sat in darkness.
He tried deep breaths as he remembers he saw somewhere that it helps, but with each breath, the smell of iron in the air filled his nose and he started to gag. The screams started again beside him and he took some selfish comfort in knowing that isn’t happening to him… yet.
The water drops have become more frequent, sounding similar to the pitter patter of rain. He used to love the sound of rain, but now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to hear it again without thinking of this place. He wants to see Mike, see his family, the members of the Favela, Fit, all the islanders. There was only one face he was dreading.
And like his thoughts were read aloud, a grotesque smile, contrasting from its white background, made its way from the shadows, illuminated from a small lamp in its hands. “What are you going to do to me?!” Pac shouted at Cucuruchos empty smile, grabbing at the bars. A few seconds pass. “Answer me!” He follows up.
“Ha ha ha,” a mechanical voice echoes through the space, sending more chills down Pac’s spine.
Cucurucho threw a book at Pac and brought its light close enough for him to be able to read it. It only had two pages.
“I KNOW EVERYTHING,” the first page read, “I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE ISLAND :),” said the second. An all too familiar phrase.
Pac stared at the text, even as the light allowing him to read the letters was taken away and Cucurucho with it. The white bear’s footsteps echoed down the hall as Pac heard him walk away. ‘Everything,’ what is Everything. He doesn’t know what it meant. Everything is a lot.
He went back to sitting, closing his eyes, trying not to think about the stinging pain of his untreated gashes on his whole body. His throat also started to sting from what he had done earlier. He could feel himself fading back into unconsciousness.
Everything, the word echoed in his mind as he slept, along with the sound of sloshing water. He was in a room, unable to move. The water was rising, splashing loudly as it came from two pipes at the top of the room. He tried to struggle, but he couldn’t. The water was getting closer to his head and he couldn't think straight. He’s breathing short breaths, rapidly, as the water approaches. The water passes his chin, and he lets out a weak scream. Taking one last breath his head is engulfed in the water.
His head shot up. He was coughing and panting, breathing air he was so grateful for. After realizing the situation he sat up. Putting his legs in his arms, rocking back and forth, he sat, comforting himself out loud, mumbling, for what seemed like days.
-
Pac slowly opened his eyes as he saw light at the top of the roof, a loud cracking sound accompanying it. He could hear what sounded like someone climbing down a ladder, their feet were hurried. As they descended Pac could start to makeout the shadow.
A long lab coat, accompanied by fluffy hair, and goggles. He could recognise him from the coat itself. Mike.
Pac didn’t believe it at first, maybe he had fallen asleep again or it was just a hallucination from the state he was in, but it was real. Mike called out to him. “Pac? PAC!?” he loudly whispered as Pac came into Mike's view. “Mike?” Pac weakly replied, his voice still unsure.
The rest of the interaction was a blur. He remembers someone showed up, someone who didn't want him to leave, but Mike dealt with them. He remembers the feeling of being out of the cage, but he doesn’t remember how he got there. All he remembers after being carried out by Mike, was the feeling of his bed in Chume Labs.
“How are you feeling,” Mike asked quietly, seeing Pac awake from unconsciousness, “are you okay?”
It took Pac a second to reply, he wasn’t ready to answer that question. “What happened?” he responded instead.
“I saved you, I followed this trail of clues which lead to that room I found you in,” Mike looked sad, “I bandaged all your wounds and put some dry clothes on you.”
“Thanks,” Pac sighed, “I- I want to lay down a bit longer.” Upon his request, Mike got up and left Pac to rest.
Inside, Pac was screaming, wanting to fight Cucurucho and bring down the federation for what they’ve done to him and his friends, but he’s also trapped. Trapped in a ball that is so fragile it could fall apart at any second trying to break out of it. Things might be back to normal in his routine, but he knows this feeling won't stop anytime soon.
Closing his eyes, he gets the rest he promised Mike he would, but fears for what he might see.
-
A few days pass and Pac is back into the rhythm of his daily life. Having fun with Mike, Richas, and his friends. Behind him, he heard a deep “Oi.” It was Fit. Pac’s hollow expression turned upward in a smile. “Hi Fit!” Pac cheerfully answered.
“How are you? You’re back. What happened?” Pac's smile subtly started to fade. That question again.
“I'm a good Fit, how are you?” Pac blankly said.
“I’m great, thanks. Good to hear you’re still as cheerful as ever. Ramon hasn’t woken up yet and I needed to pay you a visit to see how you were doing. It’s been awhile Pac,” an uncontrollable smile crept on Pac’s face as he saw the one Fit had on, “I know what experiencing something like that can be like…” Fit trailed off, looking down, a reminiscence look on his face.
Pac knew about Fits harsh past. Maybe Fit could help him with this, but not right now. “Mike is just over there with Richas, want to go say hi?”
Pac and Fit joined Mike and Richarlyson in the Barbie House at the Murder Mystery. A smile on both of their faces.
-
After waking up from yet another nightmare, Pac feels off again. He feels like he is being pulled apart with no hope for help. Meeting Mike at the top of Chume Labs, he tries to act normal. Getting through a cup of coffee and making light conversation, Mike can tell something’s up.
“Everything all good?” Mike asked nonchalantly. Pac seemed a little shocked but cheerfully replied affirmative.
-
Like usual, Fit showed up again during their construction time, striking conversation, and sometimes dragging them into weird situations. But this time, Fit seemed to be more hesitant. Pac noticed Fit was staring at him, but he looked away when Pac tried to make acknowledging eye contact. Fit could sense something was up, but he wasn’t going to bring it up here with Richas and Mike.
“Hey Mike, would you mind checking on Ramon to see if he’s woken up yet?” Fit said while secretly messaging Mike as well.
You whisper to mikethelink: I want to talk with Pac alone, could you take Richarlyson and leave us for a few minutes?
A few seconds later he's met with his response.
Mikethelink whispers to you: sure
They were alone now. Just Pac and Fit. Fit puts a hand on Pac's shoulder. “What up?” He asked gently with his soothing voice he knows Pac loves.
Pac doesn’t know what to answer. The truth? The truth makes sense but he doesn’t want to be a burden. “I- I’ve been having nightmares,” Pac starts, “and they’ve been getting worse.”
Pac is avoiding eye contact by staring at his feet. Saying nothing, Fit brings him into a tight embrace. He holds on for as long as Pac needs. Pac revels in the closeness and the warmth of human contact. Feeling the cloth on Fits back, he grabs it, holding it for a few minutes. Quietly, Fit whispers, “words aren’t what you need right now.”
Pac can feel his face heating up, but he holds tighter, refusing to let go. For a second he isnt thinking about his dreams of what they mean, but about Fit and how he feels. Etoiles was the first he saw interest in, but he’s noticed that it’s faded. He mostly sees Etoiles as a good friend, but Fit, he can feel the warmth of Fit’s body through his sweater and he doesn’t want to let go.
“If it’ll make you feel better, I could stay over while you fall asleep tonight?” Fit asked close to Pac's ear that it made him stop functioning for a second.
“Please do,” Pac replied, digging his head in Fit's shoulder.
-
It was now night, the time Pac dreaded because he knew what lay ahead of him when he slept. But this night would be different. Fit had messaged him that he was coming and all Pac could do was wait eagerly.
Fit moved through Chume Labs with ease, being very familiar with the area. Quickly, he made his way to Pac’s room. The walls were ivory white, and the room was minimally decorated with a blue sofa chair, a small desk, a bedside table, a blue lamp, and lastly a queen sized bed with blue sheets. He found him sitting on top of his bed in blue and black pajamas, with his iconic Pacman logo on the back of the top.
Catching Pac’s attention, Pac eyes locked on Fit as he walked to one of the cushioned chairs. “I can sit here while you fall asleep. Just call if you need me,” Fit told Pac as he was starting to get comfortable in the covers. He turned so he faced the wall, away from Fit’s stare.
“Okay… thank you,” Pac softly spoke. Within a few minutes he fell asleep. He had been tired all week from avoiding sleep, so with Fit’s comforting presence and days of sleep deprivation, drowsiness overtook him.
Fit watched over Pac’s unconscious body once he was sure he was asleep. Checking on him, he starts to head out of the room. He would stay in Chume Labs, but it felt weird to stay in Pac’s room, like he wasn’t completely welcome.
Just as he was about to start roaming around the building waiting for Pac to wake up, he heard a sharp inhale accompanied by a shallow whimper. Looking immediately over to where Pac slept, he saw his face was now different then the peaceful expression he had on earlier.
His eyes were shut tight and his jaw was opening and closing small amounts in sudden movement, like he was trying to scream. Fit rushed to his side and put a hand on Pac’s shoulder, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Shhhh, It’s okay,” Fit repeated softly, “Shhh, I’m here.”
Abruptly, Pac shot up, his eyes wide, narrowly missing hitting Fit. Pac looked over to Fit a few inches away, still sitting on the bed's edge. Tears began to flow slowly down his face as he looked away from Fit, not wanting him to see him like this.
Fit continued with his soft words of comfort as he wrapped his arms around Pac loosely. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he continued. After a few minutes of silence and for Pac to calm down, Fit loosens the embrace so they are both sitting across from each other on the bed.
“Want to talk about it?” Fit finally asked. A few seconds of silence passed. Readjusting himself in his spot, Pac opens his mouth to speak, wiping his drying tears, “I- I was drowning. It felt so real, like the water was actually filling my lungs. I couldn’t move, even though I was trying, and I c-could feel myself start to die. My eyes started to go blurry and everything went limp. I- I hate it!”
Pac got louder and louder the more he explained, Fit was listening attentively, as he watched his friend go through this. It made him think back to his days on 2b2t. All too many of his friends had nightmares, and he was no exception. Once Pac finished, Fit took Pac’s hands and started doing circles in his palms. An old trick he learned to calm people down.
“I used to have something similar, I’d wake up covered in sweat and would avoid sleeping as much as possible. But, it’s not forever. There are things I learned that helped me, and I think they can help you too,” Fit said while continuing the circles. Pac’s eyes looked at him while he nodded. The words came weakly out, “Please.”
“I know it sounds stupid, but holding something while I slept helped a lot, a pillow, a chunk of the blanket, or anything that was comfortable. Sleeping with the lights on helped as well, but I’m not sure how universal that one is,” Fit let out a small chuckle.
Pac thought for a moment and suddenly his face flushed. Looking down, he seemed to have an idea, but he didn’t want to say it. Hand on shoulder again, Fit reassured him. “Umm, what if I, uh, held you?”
Fit face began to shine a light shade of red, but he wasn't going to make this awkward. Pac was going through a lot right now and he didn’t want to make it worse. “S-sure,” Fit replied a little too weakly for how he would have liked to sound.
Getting up from his sitting position, Fit started to move beside Pac, pulling the covers over himself. From behind, he could feel Pac putting his arms around him. Fit could feel everytime Pac breathed, every movement. His face now out of sight of Pac, it began to turn a much deeper shade of red. Pac, unbeknownst to Fit, experienced the same symptom.
Pac’s breaths fell into a methodic, light snore, but Fit was still awake. Taking in the situation, he tried his own methods. Taking an extra pillow between his arms, he tried to drift asleep, trying not to disturb the resting arms over his body, or the rest of what they were attached to. Like a charm, he drifted right to sleep.
-
Fit was the first to wake up. They were both early risers, but Fit seemed to beat Pac to it. He felt relieved knowing Pac was still asleep peacefully. It appeared a nightmare hadn't disturbed his sleep that night and that brought a smile to Fit’s face. Closing his eyes once more, he laid there, still in Pac’s arms. This was the best sleep he’s had in ages and he doesn’t want it to end.
A few moments later, Fit could hear two sets of footsteps heading toward the room. Only one muffled voice accompanied them, and Fit could recognise it anywhere. Mike. He had forgotten to tell Mike he was going to be here.
Doing the only thing he could think of at the moment, he pretended to be asleep and covered as much of himself in the blanket as possible without changing his position too much so as not to disturb Pac. Avoiding any kind of confrontation with Mike, he heard as the door opened and the footsteps grew closer.
“It’s almost noon, how is he still asleep Richas,” Mike trailed off before bringing his attention to the obvious mysterious person wrapped in Pac’s arms, sharing the bed. With a small sigh and from what Fit could hear was fast scribbling of a sign, Mike started again, his voice a little quieter now, not wanting to disturb them. “Okay, okay, Richas. Maybe you were right, let’s leave them be.”
Fit could hear a struggle from who he presumed was Richarlyson as he was dragged out of the room by Mike. Letting out a breath, and finally able to think again, he noticed his face had gotten red again. He wasn’t tired anymore, but he didn’t want to move, not unless Pac wanted him too.
An hour or two later after the intrusion, Fit felt Pac start to reanimate. From the way his body cracked as he stretched it, it must have been a good rest. Fit could feel the ghost warmth of where Pac’s arms laid only a few seconds ago. Opening his eyes, Pac’s head shot toward Fit, almost like he forgot he was there. “Hii Fit..,” Pac awkwardly said, noticeably flustered. Despite no longer being in his arms, Fit was still very close to Pac as they shared the covers.
“Good morning. Bom dia, Pac,” responded Fit, “How’d you sleep? Any unwanted dreams?”
“Actually, I think this is the first time I’m thankful for having no dreams at all, good or bad,” Pac’s voice was still warming up, and starting the day off in English, as well, made him sound slightly gravelly and mumbled.
Fit had a sigh of relief. “That’s good,” he looked at the time on his wrist, “Oh shit, it’s 3pm.”
“What?” Pac was shocked he even had the ability to sleep that long.
“I guess you really needed that sleep,” Fit joked, making his voice noticeably deeper, “good thing I’m here.”
Fit was starting to get a feel for what buttons to press with Pac. A little payback for all the times Pac’s flirting made him even forget how to spell his son's own name. As well as to take his mind off of what had been plaguing him for the past few days.
“Let’s get up,” Fit decided after Pac’s silence. Picking up the covers, they got up and Fit noticed how messy Pac’s hair was from his long time on his pillow. Pulling a small smile and noticing Pac was starting to get awkward again, he decided maybe it was time for him to leave, and let Pac think with himself for a bit.
“Umm, I’ll just warp home and you can get changed. See you later Pac, glad you’re doing better,” and without a response from Pac, or before he even had time to process Fit’s words, he left.
Now alone, Pac looked at the spot where Fit had laid until a couple moments ago. He started to smile at the thought of that being the case more often. In a twisted way, he thanked his nightmares for this happening. Him and Fit sharing a bed, just his presence there made Pac feel better and he couldn’t wait for next time.
Next time? Was Fit expecting a next time like Pac was or did he think this was a one night deal. He wasn’t sure, but he needed to find out, for his own sanity for the rest of the day.
You whisper to FitMC: would you, maybe, like to do that again tonight. It really helped and I would really appreciate it.
Fit responded almost immediately.
FitMC whispers to you: of course.
Pac hated how he sounded so formal, but at least he got the message across. The rest of the day, Pac looked forward to the night, in starch contrast to the past few days.
He hadn’t seen Mike or Richas all day as he spent the few hours remaining after his late wake up to roam around Chume Labs. He looked at all the mechanical aspects of his home, as well as the view from the top. He appreciated all of Mike's machinery and was thoroughly impressed by all of it.
-
Deja vu strikes as Pac finds himself waiting for Fit sitting on his bed again already wearing his pajamas, and, like clockwork, Fit shows up with a smile already on his face. “Hi again,” Fit waves nervously as he steps into Pac’s room. The scene was becoming more and more familiar to him and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
Like last night, Fit finds himself wrapped in Pac’s warm arms. In this moment, there was nowhere he would rather be. Ramon was already asleep, he had no plans for a while, so he could relax to the fullest, appreciating the delicate fabric of the sleeves of Pac nightshirt.
Unlike last night, Fit fell asleep first, but Pac was soon after. The time travel to tomorrow had begun. But, mother nature had other plans.
A single drop of water hit the roof, then another, and another. It was raining. Hard.
Though muffled by the distance of Pac’s room from the outside, it was still very much audible.
Pac started to grimace, the sound altering things in his subconscious. He was there again, in the cell. The water drops dripping from the ceiling with increasing volume. The screams began from next door. He was back. He didn’t want to be back. Not ever.
Suddenly he couldn't breathe. Blinking, his scenery changed. He was now in a water filled tube with Cucurucho on the other side, the word “Everything” and laughter being echoed in his head in a mechanical voice, along with the panic of needing to breathe. He didn’t have long. He was going to die. He didn’t know what to do. Help. Help. HELP ME!
He opened his eyes to Fit on top of him grabbing his shoulders screaming his name. “Pac? PAC!” Fit called out, hugging him when he realized he was conscious. “Are you okay? Do you need anything, I’m here,” Fit tried to calm him down as much as possible.
Pac was breathing heavily, but was starting to find a steady rhythm. He didn’t want Fit to see him like this, but I guess that’s why Pac called Fit here in the first place. “The rain,” Pac finally let out, “It reminds me of… there.”
“Okay, okay,” Fit processed. Taking a deep breath he thinks of a solution. “How about these,” he pulls some earplugs from the backpack that he takes everywhere. He left it at the side of the bed. “Sure.”
Taking them out of their spot in his bag, he lifts his hands up to Pac’s ears. Getting closer and closer, he inserts one plug after the other. “Better?” Fit says beside Pac’s ear so he would hear it.
Pac was already red, but managed a simple nod. Before moving away, Fit stayed like that for a few seconds. Pac felt like he could die. He could feel his heart pound, but this time it had nothing to do with a nightmare.
Noticing the awkwardness, Fit finally moved away. It was his turn to get flustered. Fully taking in the situation, Pac was so grateful for everything this man had done for him. A smile started to grow, the past nightmare already out of his mind, at least for now.
Getting out of the bed, Pac walks over to the sofa chair in his room and sits down. “Can we talk?” Pac starts sheepishly, taking out one earplug to be able to hear.
“Of course, what’s up?” Fit replied, already getting up from his spot and taking the seat next to Pac. He already missed his arms around him.
“I, umm, wanted to thank you, for everything you’ve done. Really, thank you,” Pac was never one for confidence but it was important to him that he got this out. “You’ve helped me a lot, even if things didn’t go exactly to plan tonight, you still did everything you could and I, um, appreciated that, uh, a lot.” The blush on Pac’s face was starting to grow, reaching his ears and becoming noticeable to Fit. Unknown to Fit, he also started to shine a light pink in his cheeks.
“I will always help you Pac, it’s no problem. I-,” he took a breath, “I care about you a lot and I hate to see you go through this. I know what experiencing this alone can feel like and I wouldn’t wish that on anybody, let alone you. I want you to be safe and happy.” Looking down at his feet, Fit finally realized the now dark red blush on his face. “And I, um, always want to be there for you Pac,” he looks back up to Pac's bagged eyes, “You’ve helped me as well, more than you know, and I love returning the favour.”
Getting up from his chair, Pac starts to walk over to Fit. He looks very nervous, but Fit could recognise that determined look anywhere. Putting two and two together, Fit stands up as well and smiles as Pac comes closer, step by step.
‘Maybe this time I can be happy’.
‘Talvez desta vez eu possa ser feliz’.
Inches from each other, Pac takes out the other earplug, tucking his hair behind his ear in the meantime. Making his intentions obvious by leaning closer, Pac mumbles a shallow, “Can I?”.
“Of course,” Fit replied softly, putting his hand around Pac's waist.
Without hesitation, out of eagerness or fear of chickening out, Pac grabbed the back of Fit’s bald head and pressed their lips together. It was only a small kiss but it felt like forever. The sound of rain echoed in the background as they stayed intertwined.
Pulling apart, they look into each other's eyes. Near immediately, Pac turns away while covering his face. Opposite to Pac, Fit stood still with a big smile, fidgeting with his fingers. Gathering himself, Pac looks back at Fit. Taking in a breath, he asks another question sheepishly, “Can I again?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
With the initial tension broken, Pac held tighter as he pulled Fit into a deeper kiss. Overcome by the moment, he held onto the fabric at the nape of his neck and Fit’s hands found their way into Pac’s flowing black locks.
Unaware of the outside world, they bumped into the small table with a vase on it, smashing the vase on the floor. Unbothered, they continued, focussing on only each other. They both needed this and had been waiting for so long.
-
The familiar sound of a marker on wood broke the kiss. They found Richas and Mike at the doorway. Mike’s pink fluffy hair was messy in the night, and Richas didn’t even have his usual mooshroom hat on. This was the first time Fit’s seen them like this.
Pac looked like he could die of embarrassment as Mike's smug smile grew. Fit could only revel in how cute Pac looked right now, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a smidge embarrassed.
“We thought someone broke into your room with the noise, or maybe you were sleepwalking or something. It looks like we were wrong,” Mike looked between Pac and Fit, “We’ll leave you be.”
Mike had to practically drag Richarlyson through the door who was writing up a storm.
Fit knew he would have to get used to it. Pac and Mike came together, Fit knew this. Being happy with Pac, mean’s Mike too, as well as Richas. He smiled at the thought of how big his small family was about to get.
Fit put a hand on Pac’s back. He was hunched over, face in hands. It took awhile for Pac to recover from this one. He was muttering to himself in Portuguese that Fit wished he understood. “Well, we still need to sleep… how are you feeling?” Fit asked cautiously but playfully.
Suddenly, Pac turned around and pulled Fit into another kiss, one that neither would forget anytime soon. Fit closed his eyes, letting himself feel the kiss and the warm of Pac’s lips against his. Breaking apart, their foreheads touched as smiles grew.
A few seconds later, Pac whispered “I’m tired,” to which Fit responded by getting under the covers, Pac following soon after. Once again in Pac’s arms, Fit was still worried about one thing, “Are you okay with the rain? Do you have the earplugs?”
“No,” Pac replied, “I don’t think I need them. The rain doesn't remind me of bad things anymore.” A smile grew on Pac’s face as he drifted off to sleep, the rain allowing him to replay the past moments again and again.
Fit, still awake, holds Pac’s hands to his chest as he, too, drifts off into a deep slumber. A smile plastered on his face as he succumbed to unconsciousness.
Maybe they can have a happy ending together, saving each other, protecting each other.
Fit's body became dependent on Pacs arms; his warmth, not allowing a wink of sleep in any other condition. Pac, too, required Fit in his arms every night to keep the nightmares away and to stay in his blissful cycle of dreams, many of which had a certain returning bald individual.
Fast asleep with plastered smiles, a mutual dependency blossomed. Tangled limbs and plush covers, they were finally were they had dreamt to be.., finally together.