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puhpandas · 7 months

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Rough Night

(2,580 words)

Gregory and Vanessa both have scars from The Mimic. Mentally and physically. (Gregory was bait for trapping the mimic and has scars to show for it. Vanessa's scars are mentally, though)

The scar is nothing new, really. Three thick gashes cut cleanly through his calf, each coiling around his leg like a snake, only made six short months ago.

They had needed bait. They'd needed someone to lure the thing into their trap to shut the doors on it. They knew how smart it was. They knew it wouldnt be fooled so easily. No. They had to be smarter than it. They had to give it something to chase. They had to put one of the things it hates most right in front of it. They had to make it think only of the prey it could catch.

It was him, of course. Turns out, when you break free suddenly from somethings control, then proceed to free every other minion of its and leave it back at square one, that thing can develop a really bad grudge against you.

Gregory remembers now. He didnt back then. He remembers how he was its favorite, once upon a time. It had selected him like it had selected Vanessa.

Thinking back, maybe that's why Vanessa insisted he was the better choice for bait. Maybe the thing felt betrayed in a way. Maybe its angry that its former favorite had been its downfall. He doesnt know.

It doesnt matter, anymore. Shutting down useless thoughts is apart of what hes learned at the therapy he and Vanesss have started together. The thing is trapped now. It doesnt matter to him.

It's hard to not reminisce, though. Not when those same three long lines sliced jaggedly through his leg were from the things claws. When it got him at the last second in the vent.

Not when those same lines running all the way up his calf and then some flare up in the night. Not when it didnt heal properly. Not when it still hurts him.

Like the scar, the pain is nothing new. It's not the first time its woken him up in the night. Usually, he bites it down until he falls back asleep.

This time is bad, though. It's not as easily ignored. Usually, if he lays still, the pain will fade long enough to drift back off.

This time, though, it sends stabbing pain up his leg that causes him to twitch and shift, and the burning never ceases. He bites his tongue, frustration palpable in the groan he let's out.

Stupid, stupid robot. Stupid claws. Stupid vent. He usually doesn't get this upset, but this night is a bad night, apparently. His leg is so irritated it's impossible to ignore, and no matter how much he tries to lay still in bed and clear his thoughts, the knowledge that theres scar gel in a drawer in the kitchen bought specifically for nights like these linger in his minds eye.

He groans one more time when his annoyance doesnt cause the pain to magically wash away, and he throws the covers off of his body, hissing when the movement irritates the scar tissue even more.

He bites it down, pushing through with furrowed brows. He just needs to make it to the kitchen, use the gel, sit for a little while, and then hopefully go back to sleep.

He never bothers Vanessa with things like this. Shes sleep deprived enough as it is. Gregory has the mercy of not remembering everything. The things he does being not so vivid.

Vanessa doesnt get that. The memories plague her the worst at night. As clear a day. Shes always telling him how glad she is that he doesnt have to deal with them like she does.

Gregory thinks it's kinda funny. How Vanessa got the mental scars and Gregory got the physical ones. The thin, jagged slice on his cheek never went away, either. It's still there. A permanent reminder of that night.

A permanent reminder that they killed him. Gregory reminds himself. A permanent reminder that hes gone. Like how my leg is like a symbol of how that thing is trapped forever now.

Gregory and Vanessa are victims, sure. But they're also survivors. They won the battle. They won the war. And they have the marks to show for it.

He tiptoes past Freddys slumped, charging, patchwork body with practiced precision. The feeling of sneaking past an animatronic is all too familiar. He turns the knob of the door of his room gently, mindful of where it creaks, and swings it open.

He makes it to the kitchen easily, after that. Being quiet in the silence comes naturally when he pulls open the drawer he knows they keep it in, grabbing the tube as soon as it's in sight.

He avoids all of the floorboards that creak when he makes his way to the couch in their small living room, sending a look to the door of Vanessa's room when he sits down.

He sighs. He'll be quiet. He doesnt want Vanessa to wake up.

He doesnt want to bother her. She has her own demons. He wants her to rest as much as shes able.

He doesnt want to add on to the reasons shes so exhausted every day.

Vanessa knows exactly what kind of night this is when she filters back into conciousness slowly. When she becomes aware or her body, her joints are sore and her mouth is as dry as a desert.

Shes warm, tucked safely into bed, and plenty tired. Usually, all of these factors lead to a great nights sleep.

Not for her, though. Her rough nights are nothing new, really. When she'd first gotten back, freshly freed, only ten short months ago, sleep had been scarce. Every time shed try, flashes of what she'd been forced to do those two years would play behind her eyelids like a slideshow.

That only happens half the time, now. An improvement, sure, but a good night's sleep is still rare for her.

She doesnt even try to fall back asleep. She knows she won't be able to. Better to stop the memories before they arrive by busying herself. Shes used to being tired, anyway.

Its nothing new, really, when she peels herself off of her covers and stumbles her way through her pitch black room to her door. She'll sit in the living room. Watch a movie, maybe. Get a snack. It's what she usually does on her bad nights.

Shes halfway through a silent, jaw creaking yawn when she catches sight of the couch already being occupied, and the TV already on.

She only stands there and stares for a moment, but she understands quickly. She sighs sadly, resigned.

I guess we both had a rough night. Vanessa thinks when she catches sight of Gregory's scar gel on the coffee table.

She makes herself known silently, inching into Gregory's line of sight so he'll notice her himself. He still startles when she catches him unexpectedly, but she doesn't apologize. She knows him. She knows he doesnt like acknowledging it.

He huffs out a sigh, seemingly coming to the former conclusion she just did moments ago. He shimmies down the couch, making room for her in the little nest of blankets hes created on the couch.

She sits down without a word. She knows, and she knows that he knows, and she knows that he knows that she knows. Theres no point in voicing it.

She always finds comfort in the silence, anyway. It's nice. Knowing that somebody gets you enough to not need words. Before, shed always needed to confirm. To deny. To explain. To answer.

She doesn't need to do that, with Gregory. Something about being in the same boat helps her understand. It helps them understand eachother.

She digs into the open box of Cheez-Its Gregory has propped up on his leg, crunching down on a handful. She gazes up at the TV, her eyes burning from the light that shines as bright as a beacon, but she ignores it easily. Gregory's put on some sort of YouTube video about customizing an animatronic.

She huffs in amusement, shimmying to get comfortable. She was already planning on distracting herself with the TV, why not do it with a buddy?

Its silent, for a while. A comfortable silence. Shes glad that she can find contentment with Gregory with little words, even in their predicaments. The TV is the only thing keeping the apartment from being so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Every once in a while, Gregory's leg twitches, and she has to fight to not glance over. It's not good for her. She knows. It's why Gregory wears pants instead of shorts now. Every time she sees those three deep tunnel-like scars in Gregory's leg, all she can think about is how much it shouldn't have been him.

She doesnt know how to explain to him that she was scared. That she couldn't make herself do it. That she took advantage of how sure of himself and confident Gregory had been. How she let herself be weak and put him into the fray. How he had gotten hurt because of it.

Because of her.

It's only now that she realizes that shes failed in not falling into that hole she does every time she gets a look at those scars. They're like the opposite of Gregory's face scar. While the scar on his face represents how she succeeded, how he succeeded, how he freed her, how he stopped the long line of killings, all the scars on his leg remind her of is how she failed. How she failed to protect him. How she failed to take care of him. Of possibly the only family shes ever had.

Gregory notices. He always does. Even though on the outside, all that's changed is the wetness to Vanessa's eyes and the clench in her jaw.

He looks at her. Silently, she knows it's an invitation. It's a request.

She forces herself to look back. Even though her skin crawls. Even when her stomach churns with guilt. Even when she almost cant even stand to see the scar on his face that she associates with hope so often.

He conveys so much to her in one look when she meets his eyes. Like a silent conversation. Its not your fault He says. I dont blame you, so dont blame yourself.

It is, though. She conveys back, hands shaking. You should. Everyone should. I should have been stronger. I should have been better.

He doesnt say anything else. He just turns his attention back to the TV, grabbing her hand with his own and squeezing it enough to let her know he isn't letting go.

A disagreement. Is what Vanessa realizes this is. No, you're wrong. Hes saying. You're healing. We both are.

She takes another glance at the scar gel on the coffee table, and sighs out, relenting. Theyve had this conversation a million times. Enough for it to be second nature to reassure eachother.

Vanessa thinks shes like Gregory, in a way. His scars have healed, supposedly, but they haven't really. They still flare up. They still hurt. They still stand for something. They still are a mark of something that will never disappear. Not fully.

But its manageable. His scars have become less of a gaping hole and more of a reminder there once was one. It can be pushed to the back of his mind, a lot of the time. Sometimes, it's a minor inconvenience. Sometimes, like tonight, it flares back up. An old pain.

But that's what hes become to them, isnt he? A minor inconvenience. He no longer affects them day to day like he did before. He no longer hovers over them, ever present. He no longer has that affect on them he did before.

He became a distant memory. Something theyve learned to manage as something apart of their lives. Of theirs. They survived him. They have the marks to show for it. Theyve outlived him, and so have the wounds hes created.

Sometimes, on nights like these, it's hard to remind herself of how far theyve come. But they have. Theyve built a little life for themselves. With their hobbies and responsibilities and little family theyve made of themselves. It's a country mile compared to what Vanessa had thought only ten short months ago. When she couldnt imagine a life a week from then.

It's like shes heard Gregory say before; they survived, and they have the marks to show for it. A night or two or three spent on the couch at 4am because of a rough nights sleep, or old pain flaring up is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Because she can hear Gregory snort at something funny the people on screen said, and she smiles herself just at the sound, and they're alright. Theyve carved a hole, jagged as can be, where he used to be in their lives, but they're working on filling it. No matter how patchwork it may be.

She wouldnt change her little family and her little life for the world, she decides. Her hand twitches in Gregory's own, and when she remembers she even has ahold of it, she squeezes.

"How about we treat ourselves to some ice cream?" Its the first thing Vanessa's said to Gregory all night, and he lights up like a Christmas tree quicker than Vanessa can even get up off the couch.

She gives him a look that says Stay down. Your leg hurts tonight., and he does. If not wiggling a bit.

"I want the big spoon. Kay?"

Vanessa chuckles, grabbing the carton straight out of the freezer and making sure to pick the appropriate utensil. "Alright. But I get to pick the next video, kay?"

Gregory nods, snatching the spoon straight from her hands. "Okay, room service. Just hurry up and sit down already."

Vanessa rolls her eyes, muttering "I could use the extra pay..."

"Yeah, sure. You're poor. Whatever. Can we watch the Sims?"

Vanessa's scoffs. Sitting back down on the couch and draping the shared throw blanket across her legs. "I get to pick the video, remember, pipsqueak? And pass the ice cream."

Gregory grumbles, setting the large carton in between their knees and getting a huge spoonful when Vanessa snatches the remote.

But despite her comments, she scrolls down to a recent search and puts on one of their favorite series of the Sims, shimmying to get comfortable.

She doesnt miss the way Gregory looks suprised, but neither acknowledge it. They just sit, content, smiles on their faces, stuffing their faces with ice cream.

The sun rises, eventually, and the tiredness feels more bearable when the birds are chirping faintly and the blue sky begins to peek through the blinds.

Its nights like these where she really becomes aware of how much theyve healed. Of how much he has been reduced to nothing but a phantom pain. A lingering inconvenience. Something ignoreable.

They defeated him. It continues to suprise her. Day after day. But they did.

They defeated him, and now, they'll outlive him.

And so will this little family theyve made for themselves.

Freddy eventually joins them in the living room, looking panicked. She and Gregory share a look. They both understand.

Okay, so maybe they still have some healing to do. That's apparent when Freddy tucks himself tightly on Gregory's other side after sitting down. But the idea feels a little easier with her family beside her.

ao3 link

#can you tell im obsessed with the fact that gregorys backpack is left abandoned and unzipped right by the vent leading to the mimic.#almost like it had been left in a hurry. the implications.#i got too carried away with what could come from the mimic scar with gregory and this happened #pandas writes #3 star fam #gregory and vanessa #ggy #dr rabbit #gregory #vanessa #oneshot #my fics

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