Scömìche One Shots (*PG-R*)

Luna

Scott shot awake with a gasp, immediately tensing up and feeling hyperaware of his surroundings. He forced his eyes open and scanned the room, his heart racing at the darkness surrounding him. He was terrified, he felt like he'd had the breath knocked out of him. He lay completely stunned and it took a long moment of panic for him to slowly realize that he was in his own room, in his own bed.

He impulsively reached an arm out and almost cried in relief when he felt someone next to him. He hurriedly inched towards him, nuzzling into his side and trying to control his breathing. It was okay. He would be okay. He tried to take a deep breath and comfort himself with the boy's closeness, but a horrifying though settled into his mind. There was something just a little bit...off about the body he was cuddling up against. It was a little too bony, a little too...too skinny? Was it too skinny? Or was he imagining things? Holy shit. Holy shit, this couldn't be him. Something was wrong, this had to be someone else.

As soon as the idea settled into his mind he drew away from the figure, aggressively shoving it away from him. "MITCH! MITCH!" Scott barely recognized his own shrieks, overwhelmed by fear. He hadn't known what to scream but Mitch's name had just fallen from his mouth out of panic. Scott panted as he tried his hardest to climb off of the bed and get the fuck out of this room but his muscles were heavy from his sudden awakening and he physically couldn't make himself move. He heard a groan and then a short silence and he swore his heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his ears.

"Hm? Jesus Christ...what?" Scott recognized the soft, tired voice but his mind wouldn't let him believe it was him. He made a pathetic noise out of fear and tried to shuffle away again, his body still immobilized as he lay on his back shuddering in fear.

"Wha...owww. Scott? Did you hit me?" Scott squeezed his eyes shut, confused and afraid. It sounded like Mitch and it had almost felt like him, too, but something was just off. He whimpered loudly, feeling helpless and debilitated. The figure crawled closer to him. "Scotty? Are you okay?"

Scott screamed when he felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder. He began gasping for air, panicking at the unwelcome touch. "Scott?! SCOTT?! Shit!" The figure moved away from him and fumbled around and suddenly there was a dull light flooding the room. Scott's eyes landed on Mitch and he stared at him, desperately scrutinizing his face and body as he tried to catch his breath. The brunette looked disheveled, but otherwise exactly like he was supposed to. His face was tainted with sleep and worry and he stared back at him, his brows furrowed.

He stood next to the bed for a moment and looked down at the panicked blond, his finger still on the nightlamp switch.

"Scott?"

Scott immediately started crying, unsure whether it was from relief or fear. He'd been wrong, it was Mitch. His Mitch. Whatever he'd thought was off about him had just been a side effect of his nightmare. He was in bed at home and Mitch was with him. Everything was okay, he was safe. Why couldn't help feeling so afraid?

"Scott? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He shook his head no and continued crying, unable to control himself. He felt the mattress move as Mitch crawled onto the bed to sit close to him. The boy settled right next to him, criss crossing his legs so that his knees were grazing the blond's arm. "Scott? What's wrong, babe?"

He thought he felt a weird tingle run up his spine and shuddered, his crying transitioning into loud sobbing and his eyes focusing on the tattoo on Mitch's chest. He was too afraid to look at Mitch's face in case...well, he wasn't sure why, but he did know he needed something to focus on. The fact that the deadmou5 symbol on his chest had no facial features unsettled him and he closed his eyes, trying to erase the image.