Work Text:
Sometimes, Spongebob will be woken up in the middle of the night with a growl from his stomach or a draft welcomed by a neglected open window. Those are two of the things he usually checks for whenever he’s woken up abruptly.
This time though, it appears to have been none of those things. He squints at the bright light he’s turned on to gather his bearings. Looking around the lit room, he notices nothing out of the ordinary. Gary is even still sound asleep and Spongebob wonders if it had just been something in his head. He’s about to resign himself to sleep, ignoring the unsettling feeling in his chest when he hears a culprit disturbance.
The unmistakable sound of someone wailing.
He leaps out of bed, rushing to the window and scans the darkness for the source. It’s a clear view straight out from both windows of the pineapple yet light only reaches just beyond the road that stretches horizontally just a few feet from his front door. Spongebob can’t imagine why anyone would want to wander about this late.
A horrible shriek of agony sounds off in the distance and Spongebob’s eyes dart down to the left. His eyes go wide at what he sees.
The wails are coming from none other than his best friend Patrick. From up top, it’s hard to tell what exactly is going on. The one thing that is clear is that he’s in some sort of distress. His wandering about makes Spongebob nervous and he’s worried that he may stumble into the street, even though there are no boats around.
“Patrick,” he whispers in urgency. He bangs his fist up against the window. “Hang on, buddy, I’m coming!”
He flings his bedroom door open and practically throws himself down the stairs. Unlocking the door, he lets in the cool current and darts out to where Patrick is standing, skidding to a stop.
It’s unsettling. The sea star is swaying on his feet and shivering violently. Spongebob takes a clammy hand in his own but doesn’t receive a response.
“Patrick?”
If anything, his breathing seems to get more labored. Spongebob lets go and steps around so that he is now facing him.
Patrick’s face is turned upwards, catching the light of the moon. His eyes are lidded but somehow captivated by it and Spongebob finds fat tears clinging to either side of his jawline. His lip quivers and he utters a request with a vacant look. Spongebob holds a breath, making out a few words.
“Sandy...Sandy, no Sandy please...I’m back, I came back no no no no no....”
Spongebob swallows a lump in his throat. He’s having a nightmare. And he has a pretty good guess on what it is about.
It’s obviously causing him a great deal of pain and Spongebob knows that if he were having one, he’d want to be snapped out of it. There’s not much he can do though. Patrick is a notoriously heavy sleeper. Spongebob tries tugging at his arm anyway.
“C’mon, Pat we gotta get inside,” he grunts. “The cold isn’t doing you any favors.”
It’s not doing himself any favors either. Spongebob had realized he rushed out here in just his underwear, and was desperate for some warmth. As expected, Patrick barely budges. His cries are getting worse and he gets in front of him to try and push.
“Let’s. Go.”
Instead of complying, Patrick swats him away, growing more distressed by the minute. It’s dangerous being in the line of fire, so Spongebob tries pulling again, this time to some success. Patrick stumbles backwards, landing on top of him. He braces his fall with a squeak, flailing his arms.
“Patrick!...can’t...breathe!”
To his luck, it’s the squeak that actually wakes him up. With a gasp, he sits up straight, gathering his surroundings.
He takes big, gulping breaths, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. Patrick grips two handfuls of sand as he tries to calm himself down. There’s not much to see on the horizon, but it’s what he doesn’t see that actually brings him comfort. The huge billowing smoke and doomed screams are nowhere to be seen or heard.
There’s a slap at his leg and he looks down to where he’s squashing his friend.
“Sponge!” He exclaims, rolling off of him. Spongebob only gets half of a second to breathe before being pulled into a tight embrace.
“Spongebob! I-I didn’t mean it!”
And then he immediately starts to sob.
Spongebob can’t do anything at first except place his hands on his shaking back. He looks up over the starfish’s shoulder at the Moai head planted between their homes and wonders how they haven’t woken up Squidward with all their ruckus. No matter. His priority is to get Patrick to calm down.
Standing there isn’t doing them any favors. Patrick is still shivering and Spongebob has a suspicion that it might not be just from fear. He pulls away just a little so that he can look at Patrick even though the latter won’t quite meet his eyes.
“We should get out of this cold.”
Patrick doesn’t say anything as he gratefully follows Spongebob inside his pineapple. They shut the outside world away with the door.
After flicking on the light, Spongebob tries dragging Patrick to the couch so they can sit down and talk, but he won’t budge. He clings onto Spongebob’s hand so that he’s stuck standing in the middle of the room. Upon seeing the phone set up on the table, another request floods his mind.
He mumbles something incoherently and Spongebob squeezes his hand encouragingly.
“What?”
“I need Sandy,” he says louder.
Spongebob looks at the phone and then looks at the clock. He grimaces,trying to work up the courage to turn down his friends request.
“Patrick, it’s way past midnight. Can’t it wait until morning?”
He makes the mistake of looking at his face. He’s giving big puppy eyes, a new wave of tears clouding his vision and threatening to spill over. His lip quivers as he takes a shuddering breath.
“I need her here. With us.”
At that, his fear of repercussions is overridden by his need to provide, and he finds himself dialing up their squirrel friend. To his surprise, it doesn’t ring very long before she picks up.
“Hello?”
“Sandy it’s me. Spongebob.”
“Why howdy, Spongebob! What’s got y’all callin’ me in the middle of the night?”
Spongebob wants to comment on how oddly chipper she sounds herself at this time, put pushes his mission to the forefront of his mind.
“Do you think you could come by? Right now. It’s kind of important.”
To his pleasure, Sandy makes a sound of affirmation. “Why sure. I’ll be over there faster than a barefoot jackrabbit on a hot greasy griddle in the middle of August.”
Spongebob blinks. “Thanks,” And then sets the phone down to hang up.
He turns around to find Patrick sat on the couch hunched over Gary, who’s curled up in his lap. He pets him comfortingly in a repeated motion in time with his breathing.
“Sandy’s on her way,” Spongebob reports, sitting down beside him. Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and sighs gratefully.
“Thank you.”
Spongebob stares for a bit, studying his features. He’s clearly still bothered.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Patrick is quiet for so long, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t. Since it looks like he’s not going to spill, he begins to turn on the TV.
“There were six minutes left.”
Spongebob looks back at him but remains quiet. Patrick takes a deep breath before he starts again.
“I was with the sardines and then I wasn’t. I went to look for you guys. But when I got to the mountain,” his voice falters, “it had already exploded. I tried to find you, b-but I was too late. You were crushed by a giant rock and Sandy...Sandy drowned in the lava.” He balls his fists into his eyes. “The lava ate everything. Until I was alone. I-I had nothing.” He grabs Spongebob’s shirt and weeps into it.
Spongebob hadn’t really thought about how this whole ordeal had affected everyone. It had only been a few days since what they thought was “THE END.” The thing he had noticed was that people seemed to treat each other with a little more kindness as they were happy to be alive. He was too. The negative repercussions had gone unnoticed.
He wondered if Patrick was the only one suffering.
Before he can offer any words of comfort, there’s a knock at the door and Patrick stiffens in his arms. Spongebob gives him a pat at the shoulder.
“I’m going to get the door now okay? I’ll be right here.”
For once, Patrick complies, lets go of Spongebob’s shirt and flops down on the couch pitifully. Spongebob gives him a little sympathy smile before walking over to the door and opening up.
As he expects, Sandy had been standing on the other side, and she only looks half as irritated whenever spongebob would ask for something tedious. He invites her in and shuts the door.
What he hasn’t counted on was her bringing anything with her. He side eyes what looks like a doll in her hand.
“Thanks for coming, Sandy. I guess you’d like to know why.”
“Actually, I kinda already have an idea,” she said, glancing toward Patrick. To his surprise, she walks right on over and sits beside him.
“Y’all tend to get creative with y’alls antics, but I could only think of a few things y’all would want after midnight.” She takes Patrick’s hand in her own, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Did you have a nightmare, Patrick?”
He sniffles and squeezes back, nodding in affirmation. Spongebob raises his eyebrows.
“How did you know?”
Sandy grimaces sheepishly. “I hadn’t been sleepin’ for long since you called me,” she admits. “It’s okay, Patrick. I’m sure you’re not the only one. This has been a crazy past few days for all of us.”
Before they can press her for information, she cuts them off. “Mind tellin’ me what went down in that noggin of yours?”
While Patrick fills her in, Spongebob takes the time to make the three of them some chocolate milk. While assembling, he thinks about how much things have changed. The apocalypse had been a necessary evil to bring them closer together. It was a test that truly showed how they were meant to be together. Even though it was the scariest time of his life, they had managed to turn it into the best day ever. He’s determined to do that with today as well.
When he comes back, Patrick had started crying again, so Sandy had pulled his head into her lap, calmly stroking his head. Spongebob sits on the floor in front of them and holds out the drink tray.
“That’s awful, Patrick,” says Sandy, taking her cup. “But everything is okay now.”
Her sentiment seemed to offend. Patrick shoots up straight so fiercely he almost knocks their drinks over. Sandy and Spongebob jump back.
“It’s not okay,” he spits. “It’s not okay, you died and I didn’t even get the chance to say sorry. I’m sorry, Sandy. I just wanted to feel like someone was listening.”
Sandy puts her hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “I know that now. And it’s okay.”
Patrick closes his eyes and nuzzles his cheek on her hand as his voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not.”
He’s really breaking her heart. Turning her hand palm up, she slides it back to the nape of his neck and gently pulls his head toward her own, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Everything in it tells him that it truly is alright and if he doesn’t believe it, it truly is going to be. He pushes back, ever so delicately, just appreciating that she’s real and here. And like that, his insecurities start to melt away.
She catches his eyes when they pull apart.
“Well, I forgive you. Cross my heart.”
She swears she can see the ghost of a smile on his face. After she is sure he is breathing at a normal rate, Sandy reaches for the doll and picks at the mane.
“This is a horse. It’s a land critter and his name is Kiwi. Also a land term. He keeps me company whenever I have nightmares.”
She looks over at Spongebob who had been sipping quietly at his chocolate milk, eyes sparkling in adoration.
“When I got y’alls call,” Sandy continues, “I had been well awake for a while. I was talkin’ to lil ol’ Kiwi here and he and I agree that it was pretty darn stupid of me to think I could leave this place behind. It’s like you said, Pat. I just wanted to be listened to.”
She then places Kiwi on Patrick’s knee, faced up toward him. Spongebob takes this as an opportunity and grabs Kiwi’s legs, waving them around.
“Hello! I’m Kiwi! I protect all creatures from bad dreams, land and sea alike. Just give me a little comfort squeeze!”
His heart warms at the sound of his friends laughter and Patrick pulls them in for a cozy group hug.
“I love you guys. I swear I’ll never leave you again.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that one,” Sandy replies. “As long as y’all stay, I’m stayin’ too.”
Spongebob beams. He hadn’t realized the road to recovery would be so rough and, but he’s glad to still be here and tough it out with the best friends ever. He downs the last of his drink, feeling full and content, knowing he’ll always be there for his friends through nightmares and all.