So much color. Fralith huffed, rubbing his fingers over his face. The walls, the floor, all of it was colorful and it was just too much. Even in the dim, defuse light the moonlight cast from behind the curtain, their same old color was visible. He sighed, shifting into another position and glaring at the BeepCorner.

This is useless. I can't sleep with that thing! He bared his teeth, growling at it and sitting up. Sleep still eluded him and probably would for a while longer. He couldn't just lie there doing nothing until it came. He had to do something. Anything. Just something that made him move.

Except there wasn't anything to do in here.

He groaned and fisted his hands in his hair. Bored, bored, booooooored. So boring. Bored. Boring. Borrreddd. "BEEP!" That was it. He was done. Throwing off the blanket, he grabbed the white circles on his chest and ripped them off. The BeepCorner fell into satisfying silence. Next was the IV and the nose tubes. Like all the other times, when the nose tubes came off, his lungs returned to only filling to half capacity. It didn't bother him as much now — he'd gotten used to the pressing feeling in his lungs — and he could adjust faster.

Frigid air gusted over his exposed skin. So cold. Wiggling over to the edge of the bed, he stood, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders. Much better. He looked around, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. What should he do now?

Glancing towards the window, he walked over, pushing aside the curtain. Light brighter than it should be for night time rushed in, casting the room in a dull yellow-gray. He squinted, pressing his hands to the glass. It was the same view as always — tall buildings, BlackStrips for MetalEaters, a few trees, and a bit of sky with so few stars it hardly counted as a night sky.

Nothing new.

Huffing, he turned away, eyeing the room. Walls, two doors, bed. Doors. What was outside the other door, the one that Tim came from? Where did Tim go to sleep? Could he even open the door? Was it locked? Surely it was locked — he was a prisoner. Sort of.

Fralith approached the door, shivering as a blast of winter air hit his face. He glanced up, head tilted at the white lump sticking out of the wall. It hummed as it blew wind into his face. Was that why it was so cold? But where did it get the cold air?

Doesn't matter. If the door's unlocked, you can escape. Shadows stirred in his belly at the idea. Escaping. Where would he go? What would he do? Eat more SillyBirds? What about... He shook the thoughts away and placed his hand on the door knob and turned. The door slid open soundlessly, brilliant light spilling into his room.

Unlocked. The door was unlocked. He was free. He could escape. But what about Tim? What would he think when he came in and he wasn't there? Would he be mad? Sad? Upset? Would he even care? Fralith frowned and looked over his shoulder at the bed. Tim would care. Tim would look for him. Tim would...miss him.

Could he leave him? Should he? Did he want to? He touched his heart, feeling the line where his skin was stitched together. This place...this place had been scary. Had been. Wasn't it still scary? No. It...wasn't. Tim was here. Tim taught him the names of things. Gave him food. Kept him safe. Fixed him, somehow. Helped his wolf pup heart grow up and not stumble anymore.

Did he want to leave? No...not really. No, he didn't. But at the same time, he didn't want to go back to bed right then. These walls were boring and he wanted to see something else for a while. Fralith turned back to the door and took a breath. I won't leave, he decided. I'll just...explore.

Outside his room was very bright, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust as he stepped outside. When they did, he looked about him curiously. He stood in a hall, many doors lining both walls, spaced roughly one room's-length apart and plaques beside the doors. The hall itself was wide, roughly fitting three DreamLits abreast with their wings closed, and had the same, colorful moss blanketing the floor.

He wrapped his blanket around himself tighter and glanced at his door. A little plaque hung beside it, strange letters engraved into its surface. Tilting his head, he attempted to puzzle out its meaning but to no avail. It just looked like a jumble of squiggly nonsense.

Huffing, he turned away and took a few steps into the hall. What did the other doors lead to? Rooms like his? Were there other captured people? Cautiously, he snuck towards the room opposite his own and tried the handle. It turned. Like his door, it swung inwards silently, no creak or squeak to betray him. The room beyond it looked very much the same as his, BeepCorner and all.

The lump on the bed stirred and soon Fralith found himself blinking at another set of eyes. A kid. There was another kid in the room.

"...Hello?" the kid asked sleepily.

"Beep," he whispered and closed the door. He'd been seen! Would the kid call the RedShirts? He shivered and backed away from the door. That'd be bad. Very bad. frowning, he glanced back at his door. Maybe he should go back. No. I don't want to go back to beeping and same walls. Not yet; I can still explore.

Sticking his tongue out at the door, he started to wander down the hall, looking this way and that and the blanket trailing behind him like a cape. The hall wasn't much to look at for the first few moments — it was just doors, doors, and more doors — but after a while of empty silence, the hall curved and split.

He stopped and looked both ways. To his left, the hall continued, ending at closed doors only a few paces down. To his right, it opened up into a large room with orange furniture, tables, bookshelves, and stacks of boxes. Tilting his head, he edged closer, peeking into the room. It was dark inside, but he had enough light from the hall. What looked like toys lay scattered here and there, along with pillows and blankets.

It was...a playroom?

Why would a prison have a playroom? Fralith thought, stepping cautiously inside. But that's what it was; no other place would have a room for toys and things to do. He squatted down and picked up one of the toys. The coolness of metal prickled at his fingers as he brought it to the light. A...MetalEater. It was a toy MetalEater. Why would someone make that creature a toy? It was scary! Dangerous!

He set it down and pushed it away, watching it roll into the shadows on miniature wheels. So strange. Turning away, he shuffled forwards and picked up another toy. This one looked like a strange animal with short, brown fur and a hard yellow circle on its paw.

Turning it over in his hands, he furrowed his brows. What kind of creature was this? It didn't look like anything he recognized — nothing he knew of looked like it walked on two legs, was furred, and had the most pitiful snout he'd ever seen. And why did it have a hard part on its paw? Was it a pad? He poked the hard part.

"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb," the toy sang.

"BEEP!" Fralith threw the thing away and jumped back, landing in a defensive crouch. It spoke! IT WAS ALIVE!

"Brave Bud?"

"BEEEEEEEEEP!" He whirled, nearly swiping the feet out from under Tim. Tim! What is that thing? Is it dangerous? It's alive! Baring his teeth, he scuttled behind Tim and glared at the singing live thing.

TIm looked down at him, surprise written all over his BodyTalk. "Brave Bud? What are you doing here? How did you get here?"

Fralith growled, hunkering down behind him. The live thing was still there, staring at them. It had stopped singing, but that meant nothing. It could attack at any time. Keeping one eye on the thing, he glanced up at Tim. "Beep!" He pointed at the thing and mimicked its grotesque sound. "Mmm, mmm, llmm. Beep! Beeeep. No. Beep."

Eyebrows raised, Tim glanced at the thing. "You...don't like the talking bear?"

He growled in response. The thing was bad. It was scary. He didn't like it. Tim should know about how bad it was. Then he could take it away and everything would be fine. A chuckle reached his ears and he snapped his gaze towards Tim. What was funny?

A grin curved Tim's lips. "Yeah, Bud, I don't either. Bears shouldn't talk, especially toy ones." He crouched down and ruffled his hair, still grinning. "Now, what are you doing here, eh? You're supposed to be in bed; there's no one being robbed at gunpoint for you to save."

Fralith wrinkled his nose. "Bleh." I want the thing dead.

Tim hummed speculatively and tapped his bare chest — the blanket had fallen off — and said, "You." He pointed back down the hall. "Bed."

He glanced over his shoulder at the hall. Bed. That was what Tim had said, pointing at him. Tim wanted him...in bed? But he...he didn't want to go back yet, there were still things to explore. Then again... he flicked his gaze to the room with the thing. Exploring could be dangerous and he didn't have any weapons.

With a sigh, he nodded and shuffled closer to Tim. It was probably for the better that he went back. Tim knew how to find him there if he needed any help. Not that it'd be hard to kill the thing. One good kick to the head and it'd be dead. Hopefully. Yes, it was better to go back.

Tim smiled at him and stood, ruffling his hair again as he did. "Atta Bud. I'm sure you're tired from your little adventure." He grabbed the fallen blanket, took his hand, and began walking back to the room.

Fralith walked beside him, the alertness due to the thing ebbing away and the weariness of sleep settling in his bones like a bird in a nest. Sleepy. So...sleepy. So sleepy that he didn't really notice the other person that stopped to talk to Tim on the way. So sleepy that he didn't mind Tim helping him into the bed and putting the various tubes and circles back on him. So sleepy that, as Tim tucked him in and the BeepCorner started up its beeping, he was already fading.

This is what it feels like to be loved, he thought as sleep finally took him.