Insomnia's Pet

By UltimatePalmTree

Stupid insomnia.

Another sleepless night.

I suppose I should be used to it by now, but it's really starting to mess with my system. The other day, I was waiting to play at this rock star competition, and I almost fell asleep backstage because of the five other sleepless nights I had before. I'm sitting on the blue bedspread of a hotel room, looking outside at the dark cobblestone streets. It's raining and I really can't tell if it's really supposed to be night or day. It's not because I'm going insane. No. I can't be going insane. It's not something that ever crosses my mind. The reason I can't tell the difference between night and day is because it's always night here. Always. No exceptions to the rule. Night is the rule.

And, boy, do I hate it…

I suppose this could be a cause for insomnia, but I just got here today. Or tonight. Or whatever it is out there. Maybe the fact I've been traveling so much is messing with my internal clock. I've been in four different places over the course of just five days: Twilight Town, Agrabah, this never-ending night of hell, and… I think I went to Port Royal.

Like I said, this stupid insomnia is messing with me.

Or, maybe I'm messing with myself.

Either way, I need some sleep. Instead of lying down like—I suppose—any normal person would do, I get up off my bed and walk over to the other corner of the room, where I get my trusty sitar. This thing's seen many a rock concert with me leading the way. Just thinking about playing it makes me feel better. I take my seat on the bed once again, and begin tuning the sitar. I don't have to do much, because it's still good from my last performance. I started the opening notes of a song I had finished performing today.

"Don't fret, precious, I'm here…" I begin in a quiet whisper. "Step away from the window and go back to sleep… Lay your head down, child… I won't let the boogey-man come,"

Creak.

I jump slightly and look over my shoulder. The room is empty, except for a few pairs of pants and shirts that I threw around the room in an effort to make it look more like home. It's well lit, too, from the street lamp outside. I suppose, if I wanted to, I could draw the curtains, but I don't want to. I prefer to have this remainder of light here; it may be the last piece of light left in this stupid place. I go back to my sitar, and restart the riff.

Creak.

I don't jump this time, I just turn around to look at the room again. Once again, everything is in its place. Nothing's been moved, nothing's been touched. It's empty, like I said. Yet I get this very strange feeling that I'm being watched from within my room. This, oddly enough, doesn't scare me. It's like insomnia. It doesn't scare me.

The only difference is…

I'm used to it by now.

I turn back to my faithful instrument and begin the riff again, repeating the opening notes a few times, picking up the pace of the song slightly with each repeated beginning. I wait to see what happens. Eventually, something does.

"You havin' fun there?"

I turn around for a third and final time. Standing in the middle of my room, drenched in the light from the street lamp outside stands a tall, thin man. I don't know how old he is, or if he's human. His hair is too fiery a red and his eyes are too piercing a green to be natural for a human. He's too thin; I haven't tried, but I might be able to encircle his waist entirely with my two hands. He's pale… Once again, too unnatural to be human. All I know is that lately, he's been hanging around wherever I am staying.

I'm not even sure if he's real or if he's a figment of my sleep-deprived mind.

"You look like it," he continues, trying to get me to say something in response. He walks closer, slowly, deliberately. He wants me to wait for him. I do so patiently, sitting on my bed like an obedient pet. That's what I am to him. His pet. He's told me so several times. "My human pet," he says to me. It's supposed to be a term of affection, but I don't like it. It makes him sound less human than he already is.

"How was it today?" he asks, standing before my window. "The concert, I mean,"

"It was good, I guess," I finally say. I place my sitar back on the floor next to my bed and begin to lie back down on my bed, attempting to go to sleep again. It's only a few seconds before I realize he's watching me.

"Want to come over here, pet?" he asks, pointing to the floor. Come. Every pet knows that one. Even me.

I nod, and obey my master. I get up and slowly shuffle over to where he's standing before turning to face the window. He then slowly walks behind me and snakes one arm across my neck, the other arm across my waist. He has the upper hand, and he knows it. He knows it all too well. He's gentle; he knows the limits that he could possibly push me to if he wanted to. Never has, but he knows them all the same. He knows if he makes one mistake, he'll no longer have the obedient pet under his control.

His heart is right where my head is. I can hear it. Though, first time I knew him, I didn't expect him to have a heart. That's how convinced I am that he's something other than a human… I've got to stop watching horror movies late at night. I've also got to start questioning my sanity.

I can hear his heart, and it's rhythmic, like any other heartbeat I've heard. Yet… I don't know. There's something different in his heartbeat. It makes this otherwise normal rhythm sound like a war drum.

Count the bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums…

His long fingers brush against my cheek before he rests his head on my shoulder. I can see his profile in my side-line vision, and he's smiling at me. "I s'ppose it's time for us to get to know each other better, huh?" he asks in a voice more fitting of a snake. "Name's Axel. Got it memorized?"

I look at him and say, "Demyx. My name's Demyx,"

He scoffs slightly before starting to laugh. "Everyone knows who you are," he says. "You are one of the multiverse's biggest rock stars… And I," He pauses for drama, I suppose, "am your biggest fan,"

Nice to know someone's looking out for me, huh?

"See, you're not supposed to listen to anyone else. Only your biggest fan. That's me,"

Pay no mind to the rabble, pay no mind to the rabble…

"All those other people who pretend to be me? Mm-mm. Not your fans. Only me. You got that?"

I nod, understanding what he means.

"To show you this, I have a gift for you, my human pet," At this, he takes both arms off me. I could run away from him, but I don't want to. I obey him as he rummages through a pocket on his trench coat and finally, produces something. When he shows me what it is, it's clearly a collar. Made out of metal, probably extremely cold, and with the ornament of a pair of dragons, tails entwined. He twists it around to the bare side of it, places it on my neck, and takes the ends behind my neck, clasping it at the tightest place possible.

"There," he says, satisfied. "A fitting gift for my human pet," He pauses for a few minutes, head on the top of mine before saying, "Go to sleep, pet. You deserve it,"

Immediately, and without question, I walk away from him and to the bed, where I lie down once more. For a minute, I don't know where he is, and I assume he's gone. Then the other side of the bed sinks down. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I look over at him. He's grinning at me, like he usually is. It's the same little insane grin he always gives me. One that says two things at the same time: "I love you" and "I want to kill you".

Head down, go to sleep to the rhythm of the war drums.

"They don't care about you," he assured me. Or was he trying to anger me or make me feel sorry for myself? "They will never care about you, like I do. I'll always care about you, because you're my human pet. Nothing will ever change that," He pulls me closer to him and places my head on his chest, holding me captive. I still hear his heart, the same drum-like beat as last time. I hate it, and at the same time, I'm addicted to it. I don't know anymore; I'm not certain of anything when I'm around him. All I know is that he means what he says.

I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons. I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason. I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices, son; they're one and the same. I must isolate you, isolate you and save you from yourself…

"I want to keep you safe, my human pet," he keeps saying. "Safe from the insane outside world. I want to keep you in my grasp as long as I possibly can, Demyx. I don't need people from outside trying to take you away," He kisses me on the top of my head and tightens his hold on me. As if someone's going to try and take me away now.

He continues rambling about keeping me safe, but I shut my eyes and continue listening to his heartbeat. Like I said, it's something I dislike and yet love to listen to at the same time. I place my left arm across his waist, resting my hand on his chest. He immediately takes that hand in his and grips it tight. I know he won't let me go now. He wouldn't do that to me. He just wouldn't.

Before I fall asleep entirely, he takes his hand off mine, places it under my chin, and turns my head so I can see him clearly. Or, as clear as someone who's half-asleep can see. He then kisses me, but not on the cheek or forehead like I was expecting. He kisses me on the lips, staying there for a few seconds that seem to last eternity. When he finally pulls away from me, he says, "That's how much I love you, my human pet,"

Just stay with me, safe and ignorant, go back to sleep, go back to sleep…

The next morning, I wake up with my head resting on a pillow and not on Axel's chest like I'm expecting to wake up. It's a disappointing fact, but I live with it. I sit up, and it still looks like night outside. It's not raining anymore.

I'm willing to lie back down and go back to sleep (every god on Mount Olympus and otherwise knows this), but something sharp bites into the skin on my neck. I hiss in pain and sit up quickly, remembering Axel. I run to the door of my room, flick on the lights. It burns at first, and once my vision clears, I make my way to the mirror hanging on the wall. Axel's collar is still there, and it's beginning to hurt. I figure I can take it off easy, and try. Only problem is, there's no clasp. Only smooth metal.

Starting to get more than slightly freaked out, I go to the closet. I look around, as if expecting to see Axel standing somewhere in there. In the end, I (obviously) didn't find him. Instead, I found something that was just as good.

'To Demyx,

That was most enjoyable last night. I do hope to see you again. And I do hope we get to know each other better than before.

Your Only Fan,

Axel'

Stay with me, stay safe and ignorant. Just stay with me. I'll hold you and protect you from the other ones, the evil ones, don't love you son.

Go back to sleep…

The Fanfiction Trinity of the Dog, the Idiot and the Overactive Imagination compelled me to write this.

Currently, the song Pet by A Perfect Circle is my favorite song. I love it. It's a perfect mix between twisted and comforting, I find. From the lyrics, it sounds like something that would deeply depress you, but it's really good! Anyway, enough with my stupid ranting… I don't know why, but I just saw this fic unfold before my eyes as I listened to the song. I saw Demyx in that hotel in Traverse Town, and the whole boogeyman thing just… came to me.

It's a lot darker, I think, than what I usually do with Demyx. Usually, I push him to his limits as he's shoved under a bench or as he's forced to take care of a wolf. But, not this one. I also get the feeling that Demyx is older in this fic. Y'know, older than he is in the game. Less energetic, I guess, but that could also be the fact that he's battling insomnia and Boogey-man!Axel. I guess it'd wear me out and make me act slightly older, but at the same time, I'd be ecstatic if Boogey-man!Axel came into my room…

Although, at the same time, I'd be scared into pissing myself… Shows how courageous I am, huh? XD

So, yeah. This is really my first true dark fic. Unless you count Aquatic Dance, but that wasn't really as dark as this. Either way, I hope you like how this style's working for me! This is for Firelien, who encouraged me to write serious fics like this one! (hugs)

Alas, I don't own Demyx, Axel or Pet. If I did, I'd be famous.