"To sleep is an act of faith."

[andthethrill]

Mitch could never hope to stay awake as long as J is able to. He tried a few times, back before they knew each other too well -- back when he still didn't trust the blond not to do something to him while he slept -- and failed.

Now, he's back to a similar level of wariness. But he doesn't try, these three months and a lifetime later, to stay up again. Instead, when sleep starts to tug at him, he gets off at the next exit, and checks them in at the cheapest nearby hotel. If J protests the pause in their journey, he promises that they'll get going again first thing in the morning. And he gets ready for bed, and he sleeps.

He told J, when they first met, that he was a light sleeper. Hopefully, he'll be light enough.

Comments

[a-bad-joke.livejournal.com]

Stopping is annoying for J only because he isn't tired. Or, rather, he's gone well through tired and come out the other side all the more jittery and paranoid, but wide awake. Mitch won't let him drive, though, and so letting the guy sleep a while seems the only way to get moving again.

He sits on his own bed, scribbling on every page of a local directory that was next to the room phone. Adding to the business logos. Changing the text here and there. Finding patterns and altering messages. It only kills about an hour of his time. Then he pulls a knife from his boot and begins cutting shapes from the pages.

As he sits in the pile of torn and shredded paper, he looks over at Mitch sleeping. So peaceful. Mitch thinks he can' take care of J. Or maybe just protect everyone else... Mitch killed all those people. Just needed reason enough. He fights J and he enjoys it. He enjoys hurting J and J knows it. He likes that. Why does Mitch think he's better or different than J? They're just the same. Nearly.

J has been muttering to himself and humming on and off since they got to the hotel. That doesn't change as he slides off the bed and takes quiet steps over to Mitch's. It just gets quieter. Soft humming and a wild smile while he moves slow and quiet around the bed, shoving the blanket and sheets under the mattress to keep Mitch in place. Quiet humming until he's standing at the foot of Mitch's bed. He goes dead quiet, juggling the knife and watching Mitch sleep.

"...my hero... pouty, sad, little hero...y..you're a monster, too, Bruce...Just. Like. Me."
He climbs careful and slow up the bed as lightly as he can. He curls up next to Mitch.
"Shh shh shh... I'll be quick...and I'll put you back together..."
J throws a leg over Mitch and sets a hand against the boy's throat to keep him still enough to be able to carve a wide mouth for him. Not as happy. Flat or sad. Never happy. Not Mitch. If he can just get the knife in...can just keep Mitch pinned as he wakes...