A/N: Hello, dearies! Many, many thanks to those of you who said such kind things about my other stories and favorited them. You have no idea how much that means to me. If my randomness makes you smile, that's all I ever wanted. Here's some more of it. Hope you're having a great day! …better than poor Lock's, anyway…
Sleepless in Halloween Town
A LSB Friendship Fanfic
You know that scene in the original Nightmare On Elm Street where that guy gets sucked down into his bed and a great big well of blood gushes up and makes waves on the ceiling, and it just keeps coming and coming until it stops being gross and gets pretty unbelievable? And after a while, you're thinking, 'Okay, yes, we get it. He's dead. Can we move on now? No one has that much blood in their body. What's Freddy skewering down there, a blue whale?' Well, I'm kinda wondering about that, thanks to personal experience. Except Sally's here with me, not Freddy. And I'm not getting sucked down into my borrowed bed. And I'm puking, not bleeding. Seriously, I think I've thrown up twenty times today. All I ate was a cup or two of bad snake-and-spider stew! Every flea-sized bit of food left hours ago. How much can there possibly be in my stomach?! Maybe if I was big and fat like the Mayor, I'd have enough inside me to puke up all day and half the night. But I'm not… I'm—I'm—crap.
Even though Sally's reading, she has a ribbon marking her page and a bowl under my chin in, like, three seconds. Her tiny hand pats between my shoulders as I choke and cough. Once she's satisfied that I'll live to puke again, the patting turns to rubbing. She stops before I duck, and gets me a glass of water and some mint leaves to get the taste out. "I think you're done for now, Lock," Sally says, "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Hey, no arguments here. I curl up on one side, since the queasiness is way too much to handle on my back or stomach, and hold a pile of pillows to help a little with the ache. Sally draws the blanket up to the bottom of my shoulder and dims the lights until the room looks like the inside of a dying Jack-o-lantern. The blanket and mattress are nice and soft. The lack of light's soothing. I'm exhausted from being so sick all day, and whatever medicine Sally stirred into the water is starting to make me feel just the tiniest bit better…so how come three hours after I've closed my eyes, I'M STILL AWAKE?! ****
[Barrel] He wants to check the clock. No, no, dumb idea. Just to see what time it is. It'll only make you feel more tired. One quick peek. Once he can't stand not knowing any longer, Barrel sneaks a glance at the bedside clock. The glowering red digits unremorsefully tell him it is 12:45 AM. Oogie Boogie's youngest lackey heaves a sigh and wearily turns over to punch his pillow. He's spending the night at the Corpse Family's. Thus far, sleep has eluded him, and it isn't entirely due to the new environment and all the M&Ms and cheese puffs and root beer he and the family's youngest member have consumed at a somewhat alarming rate over the last few hours. Barrel glances enviously at his friend, snoozing away on his sleeping bag, adrift in happy nightmares. But Barrel can't sleep.
This alien environment grates on his ever-fuzzying senses. His stomach feels funky. He's tried hugging himself, turning onto his face, and piling shoes and pillows on top of his tummy, but he hasn't found just the right pressure to attain relief. Nuzzling his cheek into his pillow, Barrel shuts his eyes and tries in vain to remind himself how tired he is and how it's only getting later. He has played freeze tag, run like a lunatic to get a fast start on a slip 'n' slide approximately two dozen times, and swum with several neighborhood kids in the lake until even the Undersea Gal had gotten worn out and gone to bed early. He is full, sore, and coming down hard from the earlier caffeine high. Barrel closes his eyes tighter and curls up in a ball.
A hand possessing exceptionally sharp nails yanks his head up by the hair. Just as he opens his mouth to scream, its twin thrusts a lollipop between his jaws. The short skeleton boy sits up, mumbling around the unexpected treat(cherry and lime-slime…mmm) "S'ock?" "Close your mouth before you drool all over yourself," she greets. Obediently, Barrel shuts his mouth and swabs his chin and neck with one sleeve. Shock hauls him to his chunky feet and releases his hair(much to his relief). "Let's go." "Where?" His whisper is noticeably less whispery than hers, and the little witch grimaces. "Not far." Barrel knows better than to ask why. Taking one last glance at his corpulent friend(and at a total loss as to how he's going to explain himself at a more decent hour), the youngest Boogie's boy scampers after Shock. ****
(Lock again) When I notice the shadows creeping up and see that Sally's still asleep in her chair with the book in her lap, I don't ask who's there or give myself time to overthink. I pounce. Almost immediately, I'm met with a punch to the face and a bite. I tussle with the intruders for almost fifteen minutes before we actually get a good look at one another. "Shock? Barrel?" "Lock!" Barrel's greeting is muffled by my tail. He spits out said tail and pops a somewhat smashy lollipop into his mouth. I let go of Shock's nose, and she relinquishes her grip on my neck. "What are you guys doing here?" Shock climbs onto the foot of the bed. Barrel crawls right behind her. When he struggles, she pulls him up by the crook of his arm until he's lying flat on his stomach on my right side. I fold my arms.
Even though I say no names, both of them know that I'm addressing Shock. 'Does Mr. Oogie Boogie know you're gone?" The look she gives me is answer enough, but, being Shock, she elaborates. "Of course not! Dummy." I get right in her face(or as close as her nose would allow, anyway). "I'm the dummy? You're the one who snuck into Dr. Finklestein's private laboratory in the middle of the night and left the bathtub all alone!" Barrel jumps in and tugs at my sleeve. "We didn't leave the tub. We rode it here!" Oh. Duh. Of course Shock knew that Barrel wouldn't travel anywhere unless he knew that the tub was safe. But that doesn't change the fact that I don't have the slightest clue what they're doing here in one of the cranky old doctor's smelly guest bedrooms.
Barrel yawns, infecting Shock. Every one of Shock's pointy teeth shows as she practically unhinges her jaw in the most ungirly yawn I've ever seen. I fight it, but darn it, they get me to yawn too. Barrel's eyes droop, and he flops onto his back(hogging the pillows that Sally had brought for me) like he's just taken a bullet. Shock plunks her head on his stomach, tucks one arm up, and lets both her legs stick out. Once I'm sure that Sally's catnap hasn't unexpectedly ended, I lay across her legs and rest my head on her tummy. Barrel's stinky feet prop my neck up. Shock's scraggly hair and breath are warm against my ear, every bit as warm as Barrel's six dirty toes, as she hisses, "Your breath really stinks." "Yeah? I've been puking my guts up all day- what's your excuse?" "You were actually puking up guts?" Barrel asks, with a touch of awe in his voice. "Shut up," Shock and I order, hers directed at me and mine at Barrel. We all glare at each other, then share another group yawn.
I know Shock's asleep when she stops pinching me and starts to whistle through her honkin' big nose. Barrel makes it a duet: he starts snoring. It was hard to think with her piercing whistle. His sawing away made it impossible! I stop digging my elbow into Shock's ribs and listen to her heart. The quick, light beat and the not-so-faint smell wreathing around Barrel's toes seems to fill the room. I close my eyes…just for a second…****
(Sally) Sally started awake. She takes a minute or two to shake off the grogginess. The window is still dark, so the sun hasn't come up yet. The Doctor and the missus are still out. She has at least another ten hours to perform her duties as the honorary town doctor. Thinking of her temporary duties, Sally is abruptly reminded of her latest patient. Irritated with herself for falling asleep(what if he'd needed her? Would she have gotten to him in time if he'd vomited again?), the bluish ragdoll leans over to look at the bed…and does a double take. Lock has multiplied. Once she's recovered from her initial shock, the patchwork creation feels her lips creeping upwards into a stitchy smile. She sits for a few minutes, watching the trio.
It's so rare for Oogie Boogie's boys to hold still, and rarer still for them to be quiet. One almost neversees them carrying out these conditions simultaneously for longer than a few bats of an eyelash. The idea that these three violent, unbalanced, untrustworthy little characters need each other in order to be able to sleep makes her stuffed heart feel like it wants to melt. Sally decides that she won't say anything. She'll set out one breakfast big enough for three(and gentle enough for poor Lock to stomach, of course) and help explain Shock's and Barrel's absences later, if need be. And Sally feels something that she had never expected to feel: she is glad that Oogie's boys are all there under the Doctor's roof. This feeling lasts until she slips into the bathroom to freshen up before breakfast and gets kickboxed down the ramp by their bathtub.