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Peter Spankoffski is shouldn't be awake, namely because it is 2:17 in the morning. He knows this because he checked the microwave clock and five-year-olds should asleep at 2:17 in the morning. Yet Peter is sitting at the kitchen table. Wide awake. There is a glass of water in front of him that he hasn’t touched. The house is quiet in that big, echoey way. The kind that makes every little sound feel wrong. The fridge hums. Something ticks in the walls. The cabinets look taller at night. Peter swings his legs under the chair. They don’t reach the floor. He stares at the hallway.
Something is wrong.
He doesn’t know what. That’s the problem. If he knew, he could fix it. Or at least hide from it properly. But it’s just this feeling. Like something is watching him. He pulls his feet up onto the chair. Just in case. The hallway stays dark. Peter squints at it.
"...I don’t like that." he whispers to himself. The house does not respond. Rude. There’s a creak somewhere. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just enough. Peter freezes. Then a shadow moves. Peter yells. The shadow yelps.
"Pete-dang-!"
The kitchen light flicks on. Ted is standing there, hair a mess, hoodie half on like he lost a fight with it. He looks more confused than scared, which is unfair because Peter just faced death. Peter is halfway off the chair, clutching his chest.
"There’s something in the hall!!!" Peter says, pointing and looks around, past Ted. Ted blinks. Looks at the hallway. Looks back at Peter.
"...yeah.” he says slowly. “That’s me. I live here."
Peter does not laugh.
"This isn’t funny." he says, voice wobbling. Ted’s face changes a little. Softer.
"Oh." he says, quieter now. Ted's tried as dead and a little hangover, he thinks about just going back to bed, but doesn't.
"Hey. Hey, okay. What’s going on?" Peter shakes his head.
"I don’t know. I just-" He gestures vaguely at everything. "It feels weird." Ted glances around the kitchen like something might jump out and confirm that.
“Define weird.” Ted grumbles, head pounding.
"...like something’s gonna get me." Ted nods like that’s a completely reasonable statement.
"Yeah, okay. That’s a classic."
"A classic?" Peter repeats, offended.
"Textbook." Ted says. "Monsters, shadows, the whole deal. Very on-brand for 2 a.m." Ted says, pulling out some juice and giving it to sniff test. Peter glares at him.
"I’m serious." Ted says, drinking straight from the container. He looks and sees Pete's not calming down. Ted groans a little.
"I know." Ted says quickly. "I know. C’mere." He walks over and crouches in front of Peter, hands settling on his shoulders, grounding.
"You check the house already?"
Peter hesitates. "...no."
"Alright." Ted yawns, standing up. "Then we gotta do a sweep."
"A what?"
"A sweep. Monster protocol."
Peter perks up a little. "That’s real?"
"Very." Ted says. "Top secret. Only for cool people who are awake past midnight." Peter slides off the chair immediately.
"Okay." Ted grabs a flashlight from the junk drawer. It flickers when he turns it on, then steadies.
"Rule one." Ted says, starting toward the hallway. "We check everywhere. Closets, under beds, behind doors. No exceptions." Peter sticks close. Like, really close. Basically attached to Ted’s hoodie. Ted's knows the best way for him to go back to bed is to get Pete calmed down
"Rule two." Ted continues. "if we find anything-"
"What if we find something?" Peter whispers. Ted pauses dramatically.
"We beat the living sh- um crap out of it." He corrects himself.
Peter gasps. "We can do that?"
"I can. I’ve been training for years." Ted says, dead serious. "You’re in good hands." Peter nods, reassured. They check the hallway first. Ted opens the closet door fast. Nothing inside but coats.
"Clear." he says. Peter peeks in anyway. Just to be sure. They check the living room. Behind the couch. Under the coffee table.
"Clear." Peter starts to breathe a little easier. They move to Peter’s room. Ted gets down on the floor and looks under Pete's bed. Shines the flashlight underneath.
"...we’ve got a suspect." he says.
Peter panics. "WHAT??" Ted winces at the yelling and reaches under and pulls out a sock. Peter blinks.
"That’s mine." Peter smiles.
"Suspicious." Ted says, trying to keep a "Professional Monster Hunter" face. He tossing it onto the bed. They check the closet. The window. Behind the door.
"Clear." Ted says again. Peter looks around his room. It doesn’t feel as big now. Or as dark.
"...what about your room?" Peter asks. Ted exhales, he's tried and really doesn't want Pete in his room.
"I already check in mine." Ted says, Pete frowns.
"But what if one got in?" Ted sighs.
"Alright, let's check." They check Ted’s room last. It’s messier. Clothes everywhere. A half-finished ""soda"" on the desk. Ted does a half-hearted sweep.
"Yep. Terrifying. Truly."
"Check under the bed." Peter insists. Ted sighs dramatically and gets down anyway. He shines the flashlight.
"...okay, yeah, there’s definitely something down here."
Peter grabs his arm. "TED-" Ted reaches in. Pulls out a crumpled hoodie.
"Got it." he says. Peter exhales. They stand there for a second. The house is still quiet. But it’s not the same quiet.
"...so there’s no monsters?" Peter asks. Ted shrugs.
"Nope." Ted says shortly then frowns looking at Pete and softens "No, none tonight."
"Tonight?" Ted crouches again so they’re eye level.
"Monsters don’t like being checked for. Too much effort. They go somewhere easier." Peter considers that.
"...oh." A pause.
"...can I sleep in your room?”
Ted it's dead tried and wants to just tell Pete to got to bed, but he thinks back to a time he was that young and just wanted someone.
"Yeah, alright. C’mon."
Peter climbs into Ted’s bed without hesitation, curling up immediately like he’s been doing it his whole life.
Ted flicks off the light and flops down beside him.
There’s a moment.
Then Peter scoots closer.
Then closer.
Until he’s basically glued to Ted’s side.
Ted stares at the ceiling.
"you good?" he asks quietly.
Peter nods against his arm.
"...yeah."
A pause. Peter yawns and nuzzles into Ted.
Peter’s breathing evens out pretty quickly after that.
Ted stays awake a little longer.
Just listening.
Before drifting off himself.