Work Text:
Denial.
The walls stretch and twist around Eugene as he forces his feet to third period. His feet and his head is heavy, he walks slowly and dizzily. Each painting on the walls around him watches him and he can only sigh at them, forcing himself to not be creeped out as he had a million other things to worry about. He wonders if he was high, but then concurs that he would rather be high then experience this as he walks through the classroom threshold.
Whatever his teacher was saying would go through one ear before going on a rollercoaster ride out the other. He sighed as he tried to read lips, but his vision couldn't focus and it wasn't because of his glasses. It was him. He had been up late studying every night for the last two weeks.
His head falls back on his neck and he watches the ceiling turn above him, too tired to even try to pay attention anymore. His head tilts and he feels as if he was swirling through a cloud. He feels a light tap on his shoulder. His head rolls that way and he remembers that Pugsley sits next to him. Pugsley who had been begging him to turn the desk lamp off and go to sleep. Pugsley who told Eugene that both of their health's would be infected by no sleep.
"Are you okay?" Pugsley's voice sounded surreal in Eugene's head, underwater and mumbled.
Eugene only smiles back, tiredly saying, "just not feeling it."
Anger:
He stands from his desk two nights later, interlocking his fingers behind his neck as he began to pace the room. Focus. He felt sick. Focus. The words in front of him no longer made sense. Each time he reads something, the words get more jumbled and confused. Each of the passages get longer and Eugene feels sicker at the sight of each one.
Focus. His mama's wanted him to have all A's. He needed to do good in life. He needed to be successful and become rich. He needed to be intelligent. However, this studying was starting not to help his cause.
He sits down again, focus. He rereads the first couple of sentences and finally, right when he thinks he knows what this passage is talking about, the words turn to mush in front of him. He banged his fist against the desk. How dare his body be tired. Why can't he do better?
"Please for the love of God, turn the lamp off and go to sleep Eugene."
Bargaining:
Eugene brightens with an idea. He turns around in his chair, looking at Pugsley in his bed.
Eugene is way too eager to say its one in the morning, "Help me study."
Pugsley gapes at the request. How could Eugene need to study more after going through so many textbooks.
Annoyedly, Pugsley responds from under the covers, "Go to sleep."
Eugene gives puppy eyes, pouting dramatically. Pugsley doesn't look at him. Finally, he drops to his knees aside Pugsley's bed. Pugsley is appalled at the sight. Eugene's glasses are fogged up from his breathing and he is in some navy blue pajamas with tarantula print. Pugsley wants to reach forward and run a hand through Eugene's hair.
"Please Pugs. I need it."
Pugsley cannot say no to the request. "Fine."
Depression:
Almost two more days later, Eugene still hasn't studied enough. He paces, now quizzing himself in his head. He runs his hands through his hair nervously and chews his thumb nail.
Pugsley watches him from the edge of his own bed, speaking of something unknown to Eugene. He is too tired to listen anymore.
Each time Eugene looks up, he thinks of another way to get smarter. He stares at his backpack as he paces. Focus, math. He gasps, breath becoming heavier. Focus, insect science. How could he stop now? There's so much to do, things to read, ways to get smarter. Focus, unordinary history. He now stands still, panting at the thought of all the books in his bag, all of the textbooks in the school library, all the things he needs to learn to be the best in the world.
He lets out a shaky sob, loud and squeaky. His breath is now caught in his throat. He is silent and so is Pugsley. He drops onto his bed, grabbing his asthma inhaler from his pant pocket. He presses down, feeling air come into his lungs again. At last, he begins to fully cry.
Pugsley watches in shock. He knew Eugene was getting bad, the studying was becoming obsessive, but he didn't know it had gotten this bad. His mouth drops open.
Eugene pleads through weeps, "Can you please. not. stare."
Pugsley puts his hands up in surrender, still shocked.
"What am I supposed to do then?" Pugsley is genuinely confused and Eugene only looks at him.
Eugene stares at him, now sobbing so uncontrollably that he throws his glasses.
"A normal person would comfort me?! Or—I don't know—have the common decency to not stare!" He runs his hands through his curly, knotted hair.
Pugsley now shrugs sheepishly when Eugene looks up at him.
Eugene laughs dryly and sarcastically. "But your not normal. so leave."
Eugene runs his hands through his hair and sniffles, his crying turning disgustingly ugly. Pugsley sits down next to him.
Eugene looks at him warningly, Pugsley only smiles and puts a hand on Eugene's shoulder. Eugene looks angry and annoyed.
He is exasperated, "what the hell are you doing."
Pugsley shrugs again. "Comforting you."
Acceptance:
Eugene lets out a dry laugh now, and for the first time in two weeks, smiles. "Well, you're horrible at it."
Pugsley lets out a soft laugh too. "But your smiling."