Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

Title: Too Much Stress is Bad

Rating: PG-13

Character(s)/Pairing: Charles and Nathan (Mainly fluff)

AN: Bad day, so I wrote myself a quick fluff one shot with some comforting. Cause I needed it. XD Not Beta'd, pretty much just wrote it, spell checked it and posted it. Sorry if there are a lot of mistakes.

XXX

Charles was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He wanted to scream, cry, yell, and curl up into a tiny ball all at the same time. He was stressed to the point of exhaustion and no matter what he did, or how much work he completed, there was always more work to be done.

To Charles, the work load was like his own personal Hydra. He finishes one stack of documents, two more stacks appear. He replies to twenty different emails, forty more pop up in their wake. By the end of the day if one didn't know any better one could assume that Charles had done nothing but twiddle his thumbs all day like an idiot.

This was exactly what Murderface said when he, along with the rest of the band, walked into his office during the evening to find stacks of papers on the desk.

The silence in the room that followed was louder than any music they could even dream of playing. With a neutral expression, one that had labeled him a robot, Charles got up from behind his desk and quietly left for his private rooms, missing the dark glare Nathan was giving Murderface.

Once in the safety of his private chambers, Charles went straight into his bedroom and collapsed on his bed. All day… no, all week. Hell, ever since he came back from the dead Charles had been dealing with everything from when he had 'died' to when he came back, and then all the things that had happened after.

Even robots couldn't handle all the work and build up that had accumulated while he was not in office. Yet, to be looked in the face and then have someone assume you sat on your ass all day doing nothing was the bottom line. He was tired, overworked, and to the point of breaking down.

Charles didn't know how much time had passed from when he left the band in his office to the present time, but he assumed it must have been a few hours at the least. That's what it had felt like, slow hours ticking away in the darkness of his room.

He was barely aware of his quarter's door being opened and closed, but he didn't care at this point. Let whoever it was come and take him away from his bed, his life. Let them take him away from Dethklok. As that thought crossed his mind, Charles frowned. No. Nobody could ever take him away from Dethklok. Many have already tried but each time they failed.

In the end, though, Charles made no effort to stand, or even open his eyes. By the time he heard the booted footfalls reach his bedroom door he knew who they belonged to.

"Hey. You awake?"

Charles slowly opened his eyes and saw Nathan standing near the open door, half in and half out, as if he was unsure if coming was a good idea or not. He continued to lie down on his bed, above the covers and still in his suit and tie, finding he had no energy or will power to get up or move. It was as if his body had finally realized he was stressed to the point of death and forcing him to rest.

"Yes, Nathan. I'm awake," he finally managed to reply. Nathan nodded, more so to himself, and then fully entered the room.

"Are you, umm, okay?" Nathan made his way closer to the bed, trying to make his voice quieter in case he imagined Charles said he was awake.

For a moment, Charles thought about lying, telling Nathan that everything was just fine, and that he was just tired. He was good at lying; it was part of his job description. But, something inside him told him that in this case lying would get him nowhere. The best thing for him to do was to just tell the truth, that he was not okay. That he was working hard and he wasn't just twiddling his thumbs all day.

He wanted to say all this to Nathan but the only thing that came out was a small, barely audible, "No."

The front man narrowed his eyes as he looked down at his manger. His suit was no longer clean-cut or wrinkle free, his hair was no longer perfectly slicked back, and his glasses were anything but straight. He looked tired, worn out, like he hasn't eaten in a couple days. His scar, which was usually hidden with concealer, was now visible, as it had been for the past few days.

It was because of that last reason Nathan had brought the rest of the band with him to confront Charles. They all knew that after the night he came back during their concert was the last time anyone actually got to see Charles' scar. When asked why he covered it up, because scars were metal, he simply said that it wasn't good for his image.

Yet, for the past few days Nathan had noticed that when he did see Charles he also saw the scar. It was as if he didn't care about his image anymore. That was what worried Nathan, it was what made him get the others and voice his concerns. They all noticed it to, and for the sake of not wanting to lose Charles again they put aside their no caring rule to find out what was wrong.

Until Murderface opened his mouth and ruined everything.

Charles let his eyes close again, willing his heart to slow down and willing everything to go back to normal. At least before he faked his death the workload wasn't as bad. Now, though, he wasn't sure if he could ever catch up with everything. Just thinking about all the work he still had to do, and all the work piling up on his plate now that he wasn't in his office working made him start to shake.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he knew that in a matter of moments he was about to break and let everything out. Part of him wished that he was alone, so that no one would see him when he was this weak. Yet, another part of him was glad that Nathan was there, standing over him. He felt his bed dip and heard it creak as Nathan sat down on it, pulling Charles into a sitting position.

The moment Charles opened his eyes and looked into deep green ones he lost it. Tears started falling down his face, and the emotionless mask he tried to keep on when around business related people broke. Nathan carefully wrapped his arms around Charles, bringing him into an embrace. Charles clutched at the black shirt, burying his face into the front mans chest as he cried out all the stress he had bottled up inside from the moment he told that kloketeer to 'kill' him to now.

Charles continued holding onto Nathan, even after the tears had stopped falling. He could feel his own heartbeat going faster than Pickles on his drum set. Nathan's own heartbeat, which he could hear from his spot on his chest, was slowly calming him down, reminding him that he was not alone and that it would all be okay in the end. The migraine he gets when stressed was slowly returning due to the crying, but the large hand soothing his back helped him forget about the throbbing in his head temporarily.

"Sorry about Murderface. He can be a dick sometimes," Nathan mumbled, hating how he had to apologize for Murderface. Again.

"It's alright."

Nathan emitted a soft growl and clutched Charles tighter to his chest. "No. If it was alright you wouldn't, you know, be crying. Or forget to cover your scar."

Charles smiled, allowing himself to be crushed closer to the large chest. "I didn't think anyone would notice."

"How could no one notice? Sure we're a bunch of drunken idiots, but yeah. We know how much image is important to you."

"I'm just tired Nathan. Just tired."

Nathan frowned, soothing the smaller mans back one last time before pulling back so he could look Charles in the eyes. He held his gaze, using one hand to cup Charles' cheek to hold it in position when he tried to look away. "Get some rest, too much stress is bad. That's what you've told us. As your boss, I order you to take the weekend off."

Quickly covering his mouth before he could argue Nathan added, "We can get you a, uh, assistant. While your resting, to help with stuff. That way you don't have to work as hard."

Letting out a shaky breath Charles nodded. "Okay. I can work with that."

Charles let Nathan help him remove his shoes and suit, leaving him in his undershirt and boxers. If he wasn't so physically and emotionally exhausted he probably would have been embarrassed as all hell. At the moment, though, all he cared about was doing as he was told and resting.

When he was all settled in under the covers, alarm clock shut off and glasses on the night stand, Nathan turned to leave his manger to his much needed stress-free sleep.

"Goodnight Offd-… Goodnight Charles."

"Goodnight Nathan. And thank you."

The last thing Charles saw before closing his eyes was Nathan closing the door with a shy smile on his face.