Chapter Text
Fundy shot up in his bed with a gasp, and then froze. He glanced around himself in panic, checking his surroundings, and it took him quite a moment to recognize them as his own room. His room, he thought. He was in his room, what just happened was just… a bad dream. Right, he nodded while taking a shallow breath, a bad dream. And what should he do in case of a bad dream? Just go to his parents' room and-
He stilled again.
After what he saw in the dream, he didn’t want to go there. He was… almost certain they’d still be there, but the thought of finding their bed cold and empty… He decided he’d rather sit in his own room, hidden by the darkness while he waited for the memory of his nightmare to fade from his mind. He quietly moved closer to the wall his bed stood by and curled up against it, hugging his knees and hiding his face. He didn’t mind staying like that, he told himself.
In spite of that, he still couldn’t choke down the quiet sobs that appeared whenever he thought back to his “dream”.
“...Fundy?” someone broke the seemingly endless silence. The fox kit immediately lifted his head to face the voice. There was a figure in his doorway, and while the tears that must’ve filled his eyes at some point blurred his vision, he could still make it out to be his father.
“...Dad?” he answered, but not before he used his hand to wipe at his eyes in an attempt to stop himself from crying. After a second of silence, Wilbur turned on the light in Fundy’s room.
“What’s wrong, Fundy?” he asked, and the next thing the fox kit knew, the man was already standing right next to his bed. Fundy took one good look at his still-blurry but obviously concerned face, and couldn’t hold back another sob. “Hey, hey, it’s okay…!” Wilbur hushed him.
Before Fundy realized what was happening, his father had already picked him up and gently wrapped his arms around him… And the fox kit had to admit that his father’s warm embrace was much more comforting than the wall he was sitting by before. Now, he felt like he could finally relax. Like he could just close his eyes, loosely hold onto his father’s shirt, and still be safe. He was safe.
“...Did you have a bad dream?” Wilbur asked after a moment, and Fundy hesitantly nodded. He still wasn’t entirely sure if it was just a dream, but it was the easiest explanation. “Okay, that’s… okay,” his father nodded while he tried to figure out how to help him. “...Why don’t we go to my room? You’ll see mum, and we’ll all sit together until you’re better!” he suggested.
Fundy was... conflicted. He wanted to see her, he really did, but what if she wasn’t…? What if the dream he just had wasn’t just…?
After a long pause, he nodded.
“Alright, let’s go,” Wilbur hummed, carrying him out of his bedroom and heading towards his own.
Their rooms weren’t too far apart, but the anticipation made the few steps Wilbur needed to take feel like endless miles they had to walk in order to see Sally. If she was there, that was. Fundy tried not to think about that, though. Finally, his father reached his own room, opened the door, and… there she was.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to get up and go check on the other two. Fundy probably never felt so relieved to see her before.
“Oh no, what happened?” she asked once she realized that Wilbur brought their son with him.
“Just a nightmare. Nothing our little champion can’t handle!” he assured, and now that Fundy knew both of his parents were okay, he could bring himself to nod in agreement. “...He just wanted to see you,” Wilbur added, and Sally nodded in acknowledgment.
“Oh, come here,” she smiled, opening her arms.
Wilbur was quick to set their son down on their bed, and the fox kit was even quicker to make his way over to her and trap her in a hug. She didn’t even hesitate to hug him back, and now he was absolutely sure that the dream was… well, just that. It was just a dream, both of his parents were safe and sound. Gently, his mother ran her hand through his hair.
“It’s okay,” she hushed him, and that was enough to soothe him. A new weight appeared on the bed when Wilbur sat down next to them. “Do you want to stay in our room for now?” she offered, and the fox kit nodded.
“Yeah, we can wait until you fall back asleep,” Wilbur promised, and Sally hummed in agreement.
They would soon regret that promise.
Despite being much calmer, it soon became apparent that Fundy was not interested in getting any more sleep. In fact, he opposed the idea very strongly. Usually, he was out halfway through a short bedtime story or after just a minute or so of hearing a lullaby, but this time nothing seemed to work. Both of his parents told him countless stories, tried at least five different lullabies, covered him with the softest blankets, held him, rocked him, anything and everything… nothing worked.
Unfortunately, Fundy already promised himself that he’d stay up for as long as he could, just to avoid any other nightmares.
About half an hour into his stay in his parents’ room, something seemed to change. It wasn’t obvious at first, but it didn’t take him long to realize that his mother’s embrace around him seemed to slowly loosen. He looked up at her, and her head was tilted back with her eyes closed. It wasn’t a big deal, he thought, she must’ve been just resting her eyes- Then, his father suddenly went quiet. Instantly, Fundy looked at him, and the man shushed him.
“Shhh… be quiet, okay?” he whispered, and the fox kit nodded. The man moved a bit closer, examined Sally’s face, and smiled fondly. “I think mum fell asleep.”
Was she really asleep? For a moment, Fundy wanted to check, but he quickly realized that shaking her awake would be very rude. He looked at his dad again, unsure what to do.
“It’s okay if you still want to sit with us, let’s just be very quiet. Let’s let her rest. Does that sound good?” he asked. Fundy nodded again.
So they sat there, still and silent… and out of nowhere, Fundy felt sleepy. Maybe it was the fluffy blanket he was wrapped in, maybe it was his mother’s warm and still comforting embrace, maybe it was the peaceful silence, maybe it was his father’s reassuring presence…
His eyes closed, seemingly on their own…
Everything was nice, quiet…
Even though he didn’t mean to, he slowly drifted off to sleep.
A couple of minutes passed, and Wilbur slowly moved closer to Fundy and Sally. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on his son’s head, checking if the touch would make him open his eyes. When that didn’t wake the fox kit up, he quietly cleared his throat.
“Fundy?” he whispered. His son stayed asleep. “...I think he’s out?” he informed. Sally opened one of her eyes to check, and then slowly sat back up. “That was smart,” he added, and Sally smiled.
“...We need a better way of helping him calm down,” she sighed, and Wilbur nodded in agreement.
“We do. Should I take him back to his room now?” he offered, but Sally shook her head.
“I think he can stay here tonight,” she decided, and the man nodded again.
“Alright,” he agreed. He quietly got up and walked to the other side of the bed. From there, he helped her move their son into a more comfortable position to sleep in. “Goodnight, Sally,” he said after that, lying down.
“Goodnight,” she whispered back.
“Sleep?” Yogurt said, pulling on the sleeve of his father’s jacket. Fundy looked at him, and slowly shook his head.
“I’m not tired yet,” he lied. His son frowned and pulled on his sleeve again.
“Sleep!” he demanded. With a sigh, Fundy set down the flag he was working on and devoted his full attention to the fox kit.
“I’m not tired, and it’s still early for me. Do you want me to help you to your bed?” he offered, but Yogurt was quick to shake his head.
“No! Dad, sleep,” he insisted. He seemed equally frustrated and worried.
Fundy expected this, but not that soon. Yogurt was a bright kid, and now that they both had to share the same tent until their yacht was finished, it was obvious he’d notice his father not sleeping for days in a row. It was obvious he’d get worried, it was obvious he’d try to help, it was obvious that this would happen... In spite of that, Fundy still had no plan.
“...Not yet, okay? I need to finish this first,” he answered, gesturing to the flag. His son huffed, crossed his arms, and sat down next to him.
“Okay,” he agreed. Fundy picked the flag back up and grabbed the dyes he was using on it.
“...Are you going to wait here?” he asked after a moment, and his son nodded. “Okay,” he sighed. Then he looked out to the horizon. The sun was about to disappear behind it. “When do you want to go to sleep?”
“Now!” the fox kit decided, and pulled on Fundy’s sleeve again. Some of the yellow dye spilled over the flag. “...Sorry,” he apologized, and Fundy shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he assured, grabbing some wool and using it to get the dye off the banner. He could probably paint over what was left of it later. “Why don’t you go catch some sleep if you want to go now, though?” he suggested.
“Dad…” Yogurt groaned, and Fundy was sure he was missing something. “Sleep too, dad!”
“...Oh,” Fundy realized. “You’ll go to sleep when I do, yeah?”
Yogurt nodded excitedly, and Fundy just barely stopped his face from falling. That was… difficult to deal with.
He didn’t want his son to stay up for too long, and he wanted him to stop worrying, but he absolutely couldn’t go to sleep! He had a lot of things to finish, and he was very busy, and he wasn’t that tired, and he… he just really didn’t want to deal with his dreams at the moment. Was there a way to convince his son to sleep without him? Could he-
Suddenly, a memory struck him. It must’ve been years ago when his father told him a story from when he was just a little fox kit. Apparently, whenever he insisted on staying up, his parents would just… pretend to be asleep themselves. At the time of hearing about it, that sounded like a ridiculous idea! Now, though… would it work?
It was probably worth a try.
“...Alright, let’s go to sleep, then,” he sighed.
He put the flag aside, picked Yogurt up, and carried him into their tent. There, he took a seat on one of their blankets and threw another one onto them. The fox kit immediately made himself comfortable in his arms, and he accepted that he had no choice but to try out his parents’ trick.
“...Good night, Yogurt,” he said quietly.
“Good night, dad,” his son responded.
Fundy feigned a yawn and relaxed, letting his eyes close and his head fall back. For just a moment, actual sleep seemed tempting, but he was quick to block out the idea. Instead, he waited.
At first, Yogurt seemed confused, or surprised.
Then, he got comfortable again. Curled up, rested his head on his dad’s chest, and relaxed.
After five minutes, he was already fast asleep.
Fundy stayed still for some time just to make sure that moving wouldn’t wake the fox kit up, but after another five minutes, he decided that he waited long enough. He gently moved his son over to the pile of blankets next to them, made sure he was warm and cozy, and quietly left the tent. He still had to finish making the flag for their new country, and he refused to get any sleep until that was done.
At least now he should have a few more days until his son gets worried again.