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he never got use to waking up because of fred, not really. even after fred graduated to sleeping in his own room, he’d still find him knocking at his door with stuffed animal in hand. each time was meant with a sigh, him placing down his book and welcoming the boy in.
the only part that really changed was fred being almost six foot instead of four. he would still curl up, pressing his face into his night gown. he would pet fred’s head, ask him if he would like to be read to (the answer was almost always yes), and go back to reading.
tonight was no different.
he places his book down once he heard the knock, waving fred over and patting the spot next to him. “horses hopping happily fred, what are you doing up at this hour?” fred stayed quiet, practically falling into his arms. “fred? what’s wrong?”
the freak rears its ugly head, hissing and snarling and spitting curses. fred murmured something into his chest, squeezing him tighter. his brows furrowed, protectiveness rising in his chest. “did something happen at darrow?”
fred nods his head. he can feel the tears soak through. the freak screams, so loud it makes his ears ring. he combs through fred’s hair and rubs circles into his back, talking about his day. fred relaxes in his hold, and soon ragged breathing is replaced with soft snores.
he sighs and takes off his glasses, turning the light off besides him. he settles under the covers, holding fred close. and when he wakes the next morning, fred is still there.