Random story written while I was between emotions. I don't own Cyborg 009. Bite me if you hate it.

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Falling Apart

a one-shot

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They told me that I should go to sleep earlier, it was bad for my health. Well, I have news: I don't care. I'm allowed to fall asleep when I want, right? If I'm really over seventy, I should have at least that!

And yet I just sit here, in bed, watching Joe snore.

I'm not helpless.

I fall back onto the blankets that are already warm from me laying on them for a couple of hours. That bugs me, so I kick them away. I stare into the darkness, and all you can hear is the funny snuffly noises Joe makes every couple seconds. I would be amused, but tonight, it's just not, for some reason. I sit up again, and without slippers, I stand up and leave the room.

No matter what time it is, the lights always manage to stay insanely bright, and always are a bother. I rub my eyes and went into the bathroom. It was slightly less alarmingly bright in here, which I was grateful for. I look at myself in the mirror. The first question that comes to mind is if I got run over by a train. The second is if I had a fight with the pillow and lost. I don't even crack a hint of a smile.

There are dark circles beneath my eyes. Sure, argue there have always been, but tonight, they're huge. They look more like black eyes, actually. My hair, too, is a mess, the result of tossing and turning for a few hours. I know it won't help, but I turn on the faucet and splash cold water all over my face. It feels nice, and I feel better.

For the last couple weeks, I don't know who has been trying to drug me, but I've been depressed. Francoise says I'm just homesick; Heinrich says it's all those years of being frozen catching up. I don't care which one is right at this time, I just want an answer to all this crap. I open the cabinet behind the mirror and take out of the small medicine bottles. The label just says that they're a sleep aid, not to be taken with alcohol and a few warnings about side effects. I take three out, put them into my mouth, and swallow them.

I'm not helpless – am I?

If I can't fall asleep without pills, maybe there might be something wrong. If…

"Jet?" A disbelieving voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn to see Francoise, in her pajamas, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She yawns. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I can't sleep," I admit. She nods, as if this is something completely normal.

"Maybe you're just having one of those times where you just fall apart for a while." She yawns again. "It goes away, but feels like it stays forever…we all have it. Are you using it?"

She gestures to the bathroom. I shake my head and feel the pills starting to slow my motions down. "I guess you're right. 'Night, Francoise."

"Good night, Jet. See you in a few hours." She says, the door closing. I realize that she's right, and get back as fast as I can to the dark room. Joe's still in there, making that weird sort of snoring noise. My eyes take their time re-adjusting to the darkness, and once they have, I walk back to my bed and sit down. The sheets aren't warm anymore, and that is one thing that's better.

Her words stick in my head. I lay down and stare into the darkness again. It'll go away, and then I won't feel like this. I'll be back to feeling like myself, and I'll be back to not doubting that I'm not helpless.

And I really am not helpless. I'm just falling apart, and I'll rearrange myself later. For now, I'll just sleep.

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