Work Text:
Rhyme refused to leave their room when she learned that their parents had brought home live crab.
Their mind knew that those crabs weren't Noise.
So why was their body curled into a ball on their bed?
Why was their heart beating fast?
Calm down, Rhyme. The crabs will be dead soon...
"Raimu, come in the kitchen and take out the trash!"
Rhyme wanted to obey their mom, but their body was petrified.
What if the crabs crawled out the pots and attacked?
What if those crabs had turned into a shark?
"No... not again... no...."
Rhyme whimpered and cowered, their eyes squeezed shut.
"Rhyme, didn't ya hear mom?"
Beat, her brother and protector, poked his head into her room.
Rhyme's fear and his voice caused her to start crying.
"What's wrong, Rhyme?"
"Don't let the crab Noise get me Beat! Make them go away!"
Beat swore softly as he went to his sibling and sat on their bed.
"Rhyme, you're safe aight? I'm here, the crabs ain't gonna get ya."
Beat reached out and grasped one of Rhyme 's clenched hands.
After a moment, Rhyme relaxed enough to let their brother pull them up into a sitting position. Beat hugged them close as he spoke.
"I'll tell mom ya had to go pee real bad and take the trash out for ya."
"Aren't you scared of the crabs?"
"Only a little, but don't worry I'll protect ya. I'll make em into bull-a-base and eat em!"
"Bouillabaisse needs more than just crab, Beat."
"I'll just eat them wit butta then. Lotsa butter!"
Beat tickled Rhyme until she was laughing hard. Her whole body shook, fear now replaced with love.