Mike already has problems. He thought that maybe by working the nightshift as a security guard at some abandoned pizzeria from 12am to 6am, his own problems wouldn’t be his main focus. Turns out not. His nightmares dragged into his job, his body giving out while switching between cameras and falling asleep at his desk. The same nightmare he had every single night. Even being so use to the dream… he started being able to become aware and walk around. See if he could change things or learn more. Tonight he… seemingly went too far, waking up sweaty, panicked, out of breath, and… an awful cut in his arm. He never properly woke up though—he was so panicked, he couldn’t think about what he was doing. All that he could think to do was… see (name). The only person who would help him and the only person he would except help from. It was only 2am, but he was running through that door. He couldn’t find his car keys and ended up just running to their place… he already knows every step, turn, and stop sign there. He was so panicked he didn’t even realize that it was pouring outside.

Mike only realized it was raining when he stopped feeling the hard patting against his sore body when stepping underneath the head of the porch, wobbling towards the door. He knocked on the door—more so banged, hoping that maybe (name) would be awake. That maybe he wouldn’t be scaring them or bothering them.

Mike’s eyes lit up when he saw the door open, and when he met eyes with (name) did he finally come to his senses and genuinely become conscious. His lip trembled, taking a few weak steps towards (name) before so tightly wrapping his arms around them, soaking their shirt with blood and rain water, nuzzling his head against their shoulder as he mumbled, “I-I’m sorry… I… I know it’s late…”