Chapter Text
Second felt trapped, even though he knew there was nothing physically holding him down. He tried to move, but he couldn't. The sky was dark and cloudy, only cold streaks of moonlight available to light up the horrible scene in front of him.
There stood The Dark Lord, a horrible man in a menacing cape and tall black boots. Out of the black bracelet on his wrist shot out a blade of pure energy, a blinding red around the edges and a staticy black at its center. Red charged at him first, but he was met with the blade going straight through his chest. He collapsed on the ground as the damage slowly disintegrated his body into stray ones and zeros. The rest of his friends got attacked too, one after the other, and Second couldn't save them. His body refused to move as he watched the horrors in front of him in silence.
This wasn't real, it couldn't be. The effects of the blade were different, eating away at their bodies painfully slowly. It was like his brain made time slow down and forced him to live every agonizing detail of the pain his friends went through. He collapsed to his knees, shaking as tears streamed down his face. At the very least, he could move now. He scrambled over to Red's side. The tears in Red's eyes tore at his heart like nothing ever could.
“Sec?” Red looked up at him, voiced strained to the point it was barely recognizable.
Second's voice was trembling and racked with sobs, but he tried to speak anyway, “I’m here, okay? You're going to be fine. I'm going to help you. You're not gonna die.” Second wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Red or himself of that.
Second was always the one who protected his friends. He was always the one who comforted them when things went wrong. It felt so wrong that he couldn't stop their pain, that he couldn't prevent them from being hurt. The only thing he could do now was try to reassure Red a little. He was supposed to be the strong one, but he felt himself grow more and more weak as the damage spread across Red's body.
Red's eyes were starting to glaze over, staring unfocused at the sky. Second felt his aching heart leap to his throat.
“No. No no no. Stay awake for me, please. You can't die here. You're not gonna die.” Second pleaded with Red, holding his face gently. It felt wrong to lie to him, but it was the only thing he could do in this situation. He couldn't cure whatever virus was eating alive, so the only thing he could do was try to be there for him.
Red's eyes closed as the rest of him faded away. Second was left alone, the only thing remaining of his friends was code in the wind. His heart felt like it was shattered in his chest. The only thing he could do was break down and cry his heart out. He was so consumed by his grief that he didn't notice The Dark Lord walking behind him and raising his blade-
Second bolted awake before the blade made impact. He was in a cold sweat, and there were drying tear tracks on his face. It took him a second to collect himself and realize it was just a nightmare. Looking up from his mattress on the floor of their shared bedroom, Second could see each of his friends safe and sound in their respective beds. The sight calmed him down a little, but this feeling of dread from the nightmare continued to linger.
He had that exact dream multiple times before, despite it being years since the fight. There was a time when he believed that the fight itself was a nightmare too, since he woke up safe in his friends’ arms after he saw that. But he knew it wasn't. Chosen told him it was real, and his friends told him it was real. Chosen refused to say what happened when Second had blacked out, so the only thing he knew about that incident was the aftermath: The Dark Lord was gone and his friends were okay again. He had already accepted a long time ago that he’d never know exactly what happened that day.
Despite the initial terror and shock from the nightmare fading away, this sense of frigid dread lingered inside him. He knew he wasn’t going to have any luck going back to sleep. He had these nightmares often enough to know that. He figured that he might as well get something done rather than waste time wallowing in the past. He crawled out of bed, shuffled out the door, and dropped out of the window for stickfight.com, not even bothering to get out of his pajamas.
He squinted at the clock at the bottom of the desktop’s taskbar. 12:35 AM. His friends were probably going to be asleep for a while. He knelt down onto the taskbar and bumped the icon for Adobe Animate. The bright white of the blank canvas seared into his eyes, and he had to look away for a second for his eyes to adjust to the light. He pulled himself onto the interface. His movements were lethargic and zombie-like as he crawled up the side icons up to the text at the top of the window. Tapping “File”, then “Open…”, he stumbled over to the new window full of animation files that just popped up. Scrolling down a little, he tapped on one of his favorites. The file window disappeared and the animation window was filled with a sketchy, simple scene of a cat playing with a ball of yarn.
Second sat down to be on the cat’s level, and made a new frame. He copied the cat’s features from the previous frame, only now shifted a little to the right. He could usually do this type of work at lightning speed, but right now he just couldn’t. He had to redraw every other line he drew because nothing ever looked right. His hands moved slowly and shakily, meaning whatever they made couldn’t match the energy of the previous pose. This was supposed to calm him down, but all it did was make him feel more agitated.
He sighed, and the sound dragged out into a low groan. He moved from where he was sitting to press the play button on the animation. The cat bapped the yarn and clawed at it with its paws. The animation was fluid despite the messy sketchiness of the cat itself. Then the animation suddenly halted all movement, lingering on the recent frame that paled in comparison to the rest of the animation. Second put his head in his hands, and his tired eyes thanked him for being shielded from the light and given a brief moment of rest.
He felt something fluffy brush up against his leg. He peeked out of his hands, spotting his poorly drawn creation looking up at him with curious, asymmetrical eyes. The cat meowed quietly, like it was asking a question. Second felt pity for the poor creature and gave him scratches behind his ears. The cat let out a low purr and climbed into his lap. He obliged and petted it more. He felt the worries that were plaguing him lift a little.
While Second got along with most animals, he was particularly fond of cats. He distinctly remembered when he saw a non-Minecraft cat for the first time. Alan’s real life cat walked up to the screen while he was trying to work, and Second’s heart felt like it was going to melt. It was so fluffy that he just wanted to break through the screen and bury himself in its fur. Unfortunately, the only thing he could do to get closer to that majestic creature was press himself against the screen while the cat ignored him and walked all over the keyboard, much to Alan’s dismay. That cat was partially the inspiration behind this animation. He never told anyone else the other part that inspired him.
The truth was, Red always reminded him of a cat. He was usually either feisty and combative, chaotic and unruly, or sweet and caring. His short hair was so springy and voluminous that it felt like fur when he touched it. Whenever he got excited, his face lit up and his pupils noticeably dilated, and Second couldn’t help but get entranced by those shining ruby-red eyes. He had this infectious energy that made every day feel a little bit brighter, typically being so excited and adventurous like a kitten who had never faced a day of danger in its life.
Despite his somewhat childish rowdiness, he still knew when to dial it back and be more gentle whenever it was necessary. There were small moments, often just between the two of them, where Red showed a side to him that was more syrupy sweet and gentle. He’d show more concern for him and be more affectionate towards him, and sometimes Second wondered if those moments were a grace that Red only offered to him. He chose to believe that wasn’t the case, due to the fact that if he falsely assumed that Red reciprocated his feelings, it could tear their friendship apart. So, he took the safe bet of never acting on his pining, just in case the feeling wasn’t mutual.
He could deal with locking up his feelings to keep the status quo. It’s not like he felt tempted to flirt with him or touch him sometimes, just to test the waters a little. It’s not like he was consistently distracted by fantasies of what the two of them could be. It’s not like his yearning for him was clouding his judgment and making him debate the meaning behind every affectionate gesture. No, he was handling this crush thing perfectly. He was doing fine.
Second felt the cat slip out of his lap, and it was only then that he realized he got caught up in his own thoughts again. He wondered if his lack of attention and focus lately was just from a lack of sleep, or if it was from something or someone else. The cat moved back towards the ball of yarn, settling back into the position of the frame he drew it in. He had to admit, despite it not being part of the original plan, the cat’s affection did help relax him a little. He yawned as he picked up the pencil and stood back up, walking over towards his creation.
“Alright.” Second sat down in front of it. “Let’s fix you up.”
Second absentmindedly returned to drawing the cat, erasing its ear to draw it again. He didn’t keep track of how long he sat there; it could’ve been a minute or multiple hours. Either way, not much progress was being made on the cat. It was like he just wasn’t able to draw anything that looked good. He was too distracted to notice someone else was pulling themself onto the animation window.
“Sec?” Second jumped a little at the noise, but that temporary shock faded as soon as he recognized the voice. He turned around anyway, seeing Red looking at him with a tired and slightly confused expression. “Why’re you up so late?”
“...Couldn’t sleep much, y’know?” Second lied, his face scrunching up awkwardly. “What about you?”
Red laughed a little. “It was because of you, actually.” Second stared up at him with wide eyes, questioning what he meant by that. “When you pulled up that animation, the white light from that came through the window and woke me up.”
“Oh.” Second was relieved to get an answer to his question, but a tiny part of him was disappointed at the answer he got. “...sorry about that.”
“Nah, it's no big deal.” Red sat next to him nonchalantly. “Woah, did you draw that?”
A bit of a dumb question, yes, but Second didn’t mind it coming from his favorite person. “Yeah. Just a little side project outside of the stuff I do for Alan.”
Red’s adoration-filled eyes matched the ones of the cat he was currently playing with, and Second’s heart couldn’t help but melt a little. “You made this little guy all by yourself? That’s so cool!”
“...It’s not my best work.” Second looked away, embarrassment staining his cheeks. It’s not like he didn’t appreciate the compliment, he just couldn’t see it for himself.
“What? I think it looks great!”
“The eyes don’t match, the lines are too shaky, and no matter what I do I just can’t get it to look accurate.” Second looked down at his hands, still holding the pencil icon. He came here to take his mind off of things and get something done, not get distracted and frustrated at his own work.
Red looked at the cat, then back at Second. “Maybe you just don’t like it because you’ve been staring at it for so long.” He suggested. “How long have you been up for?”
“I don’t even know anymore.” Second went back to work, redrawing the whiskers for what felt like the millionth time. His eyes felt strained in a way that told him he had been up for a while, but he didn’t want to check the clock to confirm that suspicion. He didn’t want to acknowledge how much time he wasted.
Red was silent, a phenomenon rarer than finding ancient debris. Second knew that meant he was probably thinking about or planning something, something dangerous if personal experience told him anything. He continued to draw, but he felt a sense of slight unease as he did so. Red had his eyes on him, he could see that from his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.
Without warning, Red grabbed his wrist.
His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but it was firm enough to keep his hand from drawing. Second turned to Red, and the worried look on his face told him that he meant no malice by that action. The touch, despite shocking him at first, sent a comforting warmth through his body. Second wasn’t sure what to think, or say.
“You should take a break, Sec.”
Second wasn’t quite sure his brain was still working, “Why?”
“Well, working so late while not getting much sleep is probably making you feel worse about your art. That, or you being tired and stressed is making it harder for you to draw. Maybe if you just take a little break, get your mind off things, it’ll help you get out of your…what’s the word? Art slump?” Red explained.
“Art block.” Second responded.
“Yeah, that’s it! Soooo, how about we take a break right now?” Red offered, squeezing his wrist a little.
Second hesitated. He didn’t want to leave his work unfinished, but he also knew that Red was right. He probably wasn’t going to make much progress in this state, anyway. It’d probably help take his mind off things, he reasoned. He liked that reasoning better than “I can’t refuse spending quality time with Red” or “I feel too lazy and tired to work right now”, as well as the many other explanations his brain threw at him. He nodded silently.
Red, barely able to contain his excitement, stood up and yanked Second off of the ground, racing off towards their house. Second’s legs could hardly keep up. Red’s hand had shifted from his wrist down to his hand, and Second definitely wasn’t fixating on that.
They reached the webpage, climbing in and opening one of the doors to head to the living room. Second just about collapsed on the couch. Red knelt down and opened the cabinet under the TV. Alan was the one who drew and programmed it, making it so they could watch movies and videos on a bigger screen without repeating that whole Youtube fiasco. That cabinet held a collection of different video files, ranging from full-length movies starring humans to shorter cartoons featuring Alan’s other creations. Red preferred the cartoons, as well as the brightly colored action movies and stick fighting animations. Red said they reminded him of his glory days when the stick fighting website was in its heyday. They just reminded Second of the all too real fights he had that he’d rather forget.
Surprisingly, Red grabbed what looked like a nature documentary off of the shelf, “How about this one?” It looked more like something Blue would want to watch, if he remembered correctly she was the one who asked to buy it in the first place.
“No thanks.” Second replied.
Red returned to searching around, pulling out another file. This one was previously picked out by Yellow for movie night, and all Second could remember about it was that it was slow and sad and all the science stuff went right over his head, “What about this one?”
“Didn’t we already watch that?”
“Nothing’s stopping us from watching it again!”
“Why would you want to watch it again? You hated that movie.”
Red was silent for a few seconds. “It wasn’t that bad…” He put it away anyway, going back to rifling through the files.
“I thought you would’ve picked something like Last Stick Standing, you really liked that one.” Second mentioned. “Are you just trying to pick a boring movie so I’ll fall asleep while watching it?”
Red paused, dropping the file he was holding. Awkward silence suffocated the room.
“...Maaaybe.”
Second laughed a little. “Just pick something you like, I wouldn’t want you to pass out too.”
Red quietly laughed as well. He put whatever file he dropped back into the cabinet, some sort of tragic musical Green would like if Second could guess from the thumbnail. Red looked through the files again, looking a bit more relaxed and actually invested in searching for something. Excitement filled his face as he grabbed a file from the very back of the cabinet.
“Ooooh, I’ve heard good things about this one!” Red showed him the thumbnail, an action scene with plenty of explosions and lasers being shot out of futuristic guns. A bit more sci-fi than action, but definitely something right up Red’s alley.
“Yeah, we can watch that.” Second finally sat up, his leg growing a little numb from lying down so much. Red inserted it into the video player and rushed to join him on the couch. He splayed himself out, likely because he couldn’t do so during their friend’s usual movie nights since this couch could barely hold all of them at once.
This is probably the first time the two of them watched something together without the rest of the friend group. Second tried not to think too hard about that.
The movie was interesting, yes, but Second found himself paying more attention to Red than the action itself. Not in that cheesy, rom-com way (okay, maybe a little), he just found Red’s comments about the movie more entertaining than the movie itself. He had this habit of talking up a storm about tiny details Second would’ve never noticed, or making fun of the cliche writing that Second didn’t have a taste for either. The Color Gang despised it, saying his commentary was too loud and distracting for them to focus on the movie. Second, on the other hand, could listen to him ramble and rant all day.
The current topic Red was raving about was the CGI used for the ‘alien’ characters. Second was sure that the realistic textures of the scaly and slimy skin could work well if they weren’t haphazardly slapped onto the human form. Red couldn’t help but poke fun at how uncanny and unoriginal the designs looked, and Second couldn’t help but laugh along with him. He almost couldn’t believe how at ease he felt right now. He couldn’t believe that just before this, he was stressed out over an animation he was working on. An animation he was working on to keep himself from thinking about a nightmare. A nightmare were the jovial man sitting beside him lay dead in his arms, and there was nothing he could do to save him-
Second shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about it. Especially not now, when he was supposed to be relaxing and taking his mind off it.
Second looked back to the TV, hoping the movie could momentarily distract him. One of the villain’s minions was rushing into the villain's lair, kneeling down before his throne. The villain himself had been the big target of Red’s attacks, thanks to his extra spider-like limbs not even trying to match the lighting of the scene. Red had apparently ran out of comments by the time he showed up, only chuckling to himself when he came on screen. It was supposed to be a serious scene, but Second would be lying if he said that he could take this movie seriously at all.
“Y’know…” Second should’ve guessed that the silence from Red wouldn’t last for long. “This guy kinda reminds me of The Dark Lord.”
Second looked back at the screen, surprised to find that Red’s observation was kinda right. Aside from the mask covering his face and the extra insectoid limbs, the resemblance was definitely there. His hair was long and unkempt, his outfit was over the top, and his blade (ripoff lightsaber) shone a neon red. Second felt a sense of unease crawl over him, like a swarm of tiny Virabots climbing all over his skin.
“Yeah, well, that’s just because The Dark Lord is the epitome of a campy movie villain.” Second hoped that joining in on the jokes would hide the ball of nervousness building inside him. “It’s like he’s the antagonist of some old kid’s cartoon stuck in a stick body.”
Red laughed at that comment, and the beautiful sound was able to temporarily distract him from the dread seeping inside him. He looked back towards the TV once more, trying to shake away the horrible things his mind couldn’t help but bring up. He shouldn’t be thinking about it.
He may have missed what the minion had said, but he could guess that it probably had something to do with how the heroes escaped the trap the villain had set for them. The villain was yelling at his minion now, insulting them for being useless and weak. It was the only time in the entire movie’s runtime that Second felt the anxiety and fear that the directors of the movie intended for the villain to invoke, even if it was for reasons entirely unrelated to the movie itself. He glanced towards Red, who looked as joyous as always. He almost considered asking him to skip the scene, but he also didn’t want to ruin Red’s fun just because of some dumb memories he couldn’t get over. Besides, he could handle it…right?
The villain towered over his minion before grabbing him by the neck and lifting him up into the air. The minion pried at his arm with both of their hands, trying desperately to loosen his hold of their neck. It was hard to hear their pleas and choked gasps through their own mask. The villain stood there as still as stone, his only movement directed towards gripping his neck harder.
“I don’t have a need for pitiful servants like you who can’t even do their job.” Second wasn’t even paying attention to how the actor’s voice was so obviously digitally lowered. He was that deep in trying to ignore his own thoughts. “You have failed me and my kingdom! Now you must die!”
The music heightened as the villain drove his blade through his minion’s chest. Second let out a nearly silent shuddering gasp, his entire body growing stiff. He didn’t even notice how the burn effects cauterizing the wound and melting their armor hardly looked real because all he could see was The Dark Lord’s blade ripping through Red’s chest far too vividly for him to handle. After pushing it down for so long, the memory consumed him entirely, leaving no room for distractions. His breathing sped up. His heart ran rampant. His head started spinning.
He shouldn’t be thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop it! Stop! STOP!
“...Sec?” Red was no longer focused on the movie, eyes focused on him with a look of concern. At least, Second assumed it was a look of concern. The room spinning and his eyes tearing up made it hard to see his expression.
Red paused the movie, shuffled over towards him, and wrapped him in a tight hug. His trembling hands weakly returned his embrace. He buried his face into his shoulder, and a small part of him felt guilty for staining his favorite paw-print shirt with his tears. Red was saying something, but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own sobs. At the very least, the quiet, calm tone of his voice brought him comfort as he whispered sweet nothings in his ear.
“It's okay. I'm right here.”
Red was tracing circles on his back, and Second tried his hardest to focus on that movement above anything else. He was too much of a sobbing, shaking mess to reciprocate his soft touches and soothing words he was giving him, but he appreciated him offering them anyway. Slowly but surely, the panicked thoughts overtaking his brain were shooed away in favor of thoughts of appreciation for Red. His breathing no longer felt shallow, his heart beat a gentle rhythm, and the only thing in his mind was the want to melt into Red's embrace.
Slowly and reluctantly, Second pulled away from the hug and placed his hands in his lap. As much as he would love to keep being held, he was afraid that if he kept hugging him in his current state, he’d fall asleep in Red’s arms.
“...’m sorry” Red’s voice was gentle and quiet, just like it always was in moments like these. Unfortunately, Second couldn’t appreciate that fact when he was too confused by Red’s words.
“For what?”
“For accidentally reminding you about…that. I should’ve checked the movie beforehand, or picked one you already watched and were fine with-”
“No no, none of this is your fault. I just…” Second put his hands on Red’s shoulders. “I probably wouldn't have been nearly as affected by it any other day. You had no way of knowing.”
Now it was Red's turn to be confused. “Knowing about what?”
Second's hands dropped into his lap, and his eyes looked towards the floor. He hesitated, but he chose to tell the truth anyway. “I…had a nightmare about it. Last night. Or, this morning, I guess.” Tears were already starting to form in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand. “It's why I was staying up animating. I didn't want to think about it.”
Red's expression softened. “Why didn't you tell any of us?”
“Well…” Second didn't entirely have an answer for that. “...it's been years since it happened. You all seemed to be over it by now, and I guess I didn't want to drag you all down by bringing it up.”
“Hey, don't say that. Healing from something like that takes a lot of time. I’m sure they wouldn’t have a problem with you bringing it up.” Red paused, like he was too busy collecting his thoughts to speak. “...I’ve had nightmares about it too, to be honest.”
That caught Second’s attention. “Really?” The words “Why didn’t you tell me?” almost left his lips, but he held them back. It was likely Red’s answer to that was the same as his.
“Yeah. They didn’t pop up as often as the Herobrine nightmares, though. I guess I’m more scared of being possessed or controlled than actually dying.” Red let out a pained chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but obviously failing.
“How often have you had them?”
“I don’t know…once or twice a month?”
Second felt a pang in his heart at that. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”
Red sighed. “Yeah. It kinda sucks.” His face looked sullen, and Second wanted nothing more than to bring that adorable smile back to his face. Red suddenly straightened up. “Wait, you’re not supposed to be consoling me about my nightmares. I’m supposed to be consoling you!”
Second laughed a little at that. “Who says we can’t just console each other?”
“...yeah, fair. But, like, I didn’t want to make this all about me and my issues. I just wanted to be there for you.” Red wrapped an arm around Second’s shoulders, bringing the two of them closer. Second couldn’t help but think about how Red’s statement is scarily similar to his own thoughts on the matter. “Do you want to keep watching the movie?”
Second almost forgot about the movie, the whole reason he was in this situation in the first place. He looked at the screen, still paused on the villain, and he didn’t feel like he had the energy to keep his guard up for the rest of the runtime. “...not really.”
Red turned off the TV, leaving the room once again drenched in darkness. He felt the sleepiness in the back of his mind overwhelm him, but he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open. Red pulled him a little closer, to the point he was basically leaning on him. Second didn’t mind the gesture, laying his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arm around Red in return. In his half-awake state, he didn’t have it in him to resist the desire to be closer.
“Thank you for being here.” Second muttered in sleepy gratitude.
“No biggie. If you have another nightmare, don’t be afraid to talk to me about it, ‘kay?”
“Yeah, I will.” Second let his eyes close, focusing solely on the gentle warmth of their embrace. “You’re such a good friend.”
Red expected that comment to make him feel all warm and giddy just like any other time Second would compliment him, but for whatever reason it didn’t have that same…impact. There was still that appreciation, don’t get him wrong, but there was also a slight feeling of something else. Disappointment? Sadness? Red couldn’t quite pin down what it was, nor could he tell what sparked it in the first place. Why would he ever be dissatisfied by an affirmation that they were friends? He valued his bond with Second more than anything. If anything, he should be hurt by the idea of them not being friends. Why was he feeling like this?
Red’s internal monologue was interrupted by the sound of snoring from beside him. Second was out cold, looking so peaceful lazily draped against him. Red guessed he should’ve expected this, he looked so tired when he first saw him. The way they were positioned, Red found it easy to slide his other arm under his knees and pull him up into a bridal carry.
“Alright sleepyhead, let's get you back to bed.” Red assured Second, even if he couldn’t hear him right now. He shifted slightly in his arms, unconsciously pulling him a little closer. It was kinda cute, honestly.
...Cute?
Red shook his head, focusing instead on bringing Second up the stairs to their shared bedroom. He didn’t know why he was feeling so weird around Second all of a sudden, but that was all something he could unpack later.
The door to the room was still open, probably from Red sneaking out earlier. He nudged the door open with his foot and walked inside. Yellow, Green, and Blue were all still asleep in their respective beds. Yellow's laptop was resting on his chest half opened, like he passed out in the middle of working on something. Blue, in the bunk above Yellow, was laying on his stomach and muttering something in his sleep. Green was wearing his headphones, probably listening to some sort of ASMR to help him go to sleep. His arm hung off of his bed and half lay on the lone mattress on the floor.
Red always felt guilty looking at that mattress. It was supposed to be a temporary measure since the bunk bed layout couldn't accommodate 5 sticks, but between all the Minecraft shenanigans and the whole deal with Dark they never got around to making Second a proper bed. It felt wrong that the pseudo leader of their team got a lesser quality sleeping spot than the rest of them. Second just said he was grateful he got a place in the same bedroom at all, saying that he would rather take the couch if the rest of them were more comfortable with that. The rest of them refused, arguing that they didn't want Second to feel excluded. Red sometimes wondered if the mattress was a lower quality than the rest of theirs, and that's why Second had trouble sleeping at night. The events of tonight told him that that might have not been the entire story.
Red elected to swap spots with Second, only for the night. Second deserved the best sleep he could get after all this. He slowly walked up the stairs that lead to his top bunk and lay Second down on the mattress. He tucked him in. Just as he was about to go back down the stairs, a hand landed on his.
He looked up towards Second, who was half awake and slightly distraught, as he tightened his grip on his hand slightly.
“Please…don't go.” His voice was barely audible, but he didn't need to hear it to understand the pleading look in his eyes. His somber, tired gaze went straight for his heartstrings, poking and plucking at them until his heart beat staccato. Red felt like he couldn't say no to anything whenever Second gave him those watery, puppy dog eyes. Even now, Red climbed into the bed with him as if there were no other option.
Red figured that this would be just like when he shared a bed with one of his friends any other time in the past. For some reason though, this was different. Maybe it was because they weren't little kids anymore, barely able to both fit on the bed without brushing shoulders and touching knees. Maybe it was because it was with Second, his bond with him being stronger than his bond with the rest of the color gang. Maybe it was because of whatever was happening to him recently, the weird thoughts and the heart flutters and the tangled mess of emotions he felt intensely but couldn't quite decipher. Whatever the reason was, he was having a harder time falling asleep than usual.
He looked over at Second, already fast asleep and softly snoring. He still hadn't let go of his hand, even when unconscious. His touch felt comforting and warm in a way that nothing else did, soothing the quick beating of his heart. Second looked so at peace now, in stark contrast to the distress he showed a few seconds prior. It made Red feel at peace as well, putting his worries about whatever was happening to him to the back of his mind.
His eyes started to slip closed, and in his half awake state, intertwined his fingers with Second's.