Archive of Our Own ^beta

Phantom origins don’t need as much sleep as many other hybrids and humans, but they do need it. Many people knew that to be a fact despite there only being about two existing phantom hybrids in the city but another “fact” about sleeping that many of the younger citizens believe is that the phantoms will come to get you if you stay up long enough.

Well, that one is more of an exaggerated truth than a fact, to be honest. The belief that phantoms will hunt you down if you don’t get the proper amount of sleep is usually passed down to children from tired parents or devious older siblings who want their kid/sibling, respectively, to let them rest. And while it is true lack of sleep draws phantom hybrids toward you, it will only be slightly uncomfortable for the hybrid to ignore it.

Of course, it is rather unlikely for one to encounter such a person, so many citizens, as they grow older, stop being so worried about drawing in phantoms and give in to studying for school work or scrolling mindlessly through social media. Which, in turn, makes being a phantom hybrid in the city significantly more annoying.

But Cam’s friends know this, which leads her to where she is now.

In the bunk room dead-tired but completely unable to sleep. Why might she be unable to sleep when it is a naturally ingrained instinct for phantoms to rest when tired? Well it just so happens that one of her two friends snores like he’s choking on an industrial saw every time he closes his eyes.

So here she remains: unable to free herself from the cruel and unusual punishment that is Axel’s snoring. Cam sighed. Sometimes it’s almost not worth it to get friends that care about you.

She flopped back onto her bunk, exhausted and defeated. Seeing as she’s not going to get any rest tonight, might as well brain storm things to do in the mean time. Bake perhaps? No that would be too loud. She may want revenge for being kept awake, but Filia at least deserved her rest.

Write scripts for the next report they air? Nah, that sounds even more boring than sitting there doing nothing. Axel can handle that like normal. He’ll certainly be well rested enough for it.

Find something to report on? N- wait that could be fun. The night is always when you find the most interesting things to watch. Although, if Cam didn’t get back before they woke up, Filia might start putting up those Missing Person posters. She shuddered. The photo and description were truly terrible enough for her to evade all attempts of kidnapping her no matter how funny she found them. “Bring back my bitchass roomate” is something she never wanted to see again. Especially because their new reports have risen in popularity, increasing the chances of her getting recognized in the wild.

Oh well. She’s not going to get any rest tonight, and its not like she’ll be gone the entire night, so might as well go out and see if she can find anything interesting for Filia to present to the news channel. Who knows, maybe she’ll stumble into a villain party and barely escape with her life! Those always catch the audience’s attention.

-~-

After a couple hours of ghosting, Cam hadn’t found anything interesting.

Turned out criminals just decided today could be a day off because Cam hadn’t even heard a peep from anything. She even checked the dark, dingey alleys! What a waste.

She was getting quite tired though. Probably enough to just crash instantly when she got back to the bunks and save her ears too much torture. So when Cam almost became tangible in a solid wall, she only had more reason to call it a night.

Instead of slipping through the walls to get back to the bunk house, Cam decided to just hop across the rooftops. Even though going ghost would be ten times faster, she didn’t want to become one with Earth’s core anytime soon, so jumping rooftops would have to be done.

Or at least it would have been.

If she had been any more awake she probably could’ve fought it, but thats what sucks about phantom instincts when you’re tired; you simply can’t. And the two assholes in this building felt like they hadn’t slept for literal weeks so that definitely was not going to help at all.

Just as she realized what was happening, she was already slipping past the concrete ceilings and being dragged to whichever prick slept the least.

When Cam got closer and subsequently gained more control of her movements, she got herself to stop drifting and stayed stationary for a few minutes, using all her willpower to make sure she wouldn’t get slip again. As she gathered her bearings, she realized she was in a really well-furnished kitchen. Like a really well-furnished one. To the point where it had a Samsung smart refrigerator, and oh Stars. No fucking way. Is that a clear toaster?

Who sucks at toasting bread that bad they have to get a clear toaster? Apparently these fucks. They have a starsdamned clear toaster, but shitty as hell sleep schedules? You’d expect rich pricks like these blokes seemed to be would at least have the decency for some self-care. Why can’t anyone sleep normally? (Obviously, she’s exempt for this incredulity. Cam had a perfectly reasonable excuse for not being able to sleep, what with the human train engine with built-in furry ears calling himself their roommate).

A startled yelp and glass shattering knocked Cam out of her thoughts. Behind her stood the tallest emo fuck in existence. And as she and this weirdo continued the impromptu staring contest she understood why this guy had a clear toaster.

He just had an air of incompetence about him. -hey- He truly looked like he had no idea how to use a stove. -You!- Even Axel could make slightly edible spaghetti if he really had to, but this man certainly had burnt water before. -LADY- Honestly, if someone told her he did, she wouldn’t doubt it for a second. Against all logic, this lanky bastard had probably done worse than burn water. Truly he was- “HEY!” -oh yeah... He was still standing there. Oops.

She zoned back in, not a moment too soon because as her mind returned to reality she heard the stairs behind the clear-toaster-owning freak creak signalling someone was probably coming downstairs to figure out why Emo Man was shouting at 3:44 in the morning.

A bit of light worry (No, she was not afraid of whoever was coming down from behind the bean pole) got her to snap completely out of the instincts that dragged her here and she turned incorporeal just as a guy with wings and a literal beast of a man with pink hair rounded the corner.

“Ah, so these were the insomniac bitches,” Cam thought to herself. As much as Cam would love to stick around to see Emo Man try to explain what he saw, she decided it might be best to leave before the invisible tug came back with a vengeance, and started to head to the bunkhouse to call it a night.

-~-

“You have to believe me! There was a lady in our kitchen.” Wilbur exclaims. “She was just staring at me with disgust like I was the literal home invader.”

Phil looked at his son with pity and a bit of misplaced understanding.

Techno, on the other hand, snorted. His brother shattered a perfectly good cup over a hallucination. That was hilarious.

“If there was really a person in our kitchen, then where did they go?” Phil asked diplomatically.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Wilbur exclaimed frustratedly. “The second you came, she disappeared through the floor!”

Which was the wrong thing for poor Wilbur to say, as it only brought more suspicion into his father's gaze.

“Techno, surely you believe me. I wouldn’t make this up,” he pleaded. It was bordering on pathetic.

Before Techno could insult Wilbur’s sanity and escalate the situation, Phil cut in.

“Okay, we aren’t saying we don’t believe you, but it is a bit strange that your ‘lady with disgust in her eyes’ vanished before either me or Techno could see." He could see Wilbur start to protest again and cut him off. "How about we take a break from planning our next attack and get some sleep? I know that our sleepless nights are probably bothering you, right Wil?”

The man in question looked utterly defeated. He wasn’t going to win this today or any other day.

“Fine. Okay. Let’s get some rest, I guess.”

They swept up the glass shards and headed upstairs, ignoring the mess of papers and plans for the night.

Somewhere, on the opposite side of the city, a phantom made her way to her bed maybe with no new or interesting stories, but not without a new appreciation for her cooking abilities, eternally grateful she’d never stoop to the need of a clear toaster.