Who: Quentin ( huskymudkipz ) and Max ( mithzanproductions )

"Papa?" the small voice squeaked from the small bed. The big man turned back around to face the little boy. He only had a sweet expression towards his son, that no one else could receive.

"Yes, Quentin?" the father softly spoke.

Ever since his wife died, we was set on raising his child properly for it was her dying wish. The guilt of letting his son grow up to hardly remember his mother washed over him whenever he had to wipe his son's tears. The mere thought of him being able to do something, but potentially would have killed him and rescued her, always consider his sanity.

"I can't sleep Papa Max." the voice of Quentin trembled. Max sighed. He had work to be doing, his boss counting on him to edit the new, two hour long 'DO NOT LAUGH' and be uploaded in the next two days. Including countless other videos from the others in the offices to be edited also. He himself had a YouTube channel, but couldn't even think about it with all the things needed from him. But alas, his baby came first, and Adam understood the problems of parenthood for he had a little child at home himself.

Max walked back to the side of the small bed. The sheets filled with pictures of anime characters, along with stuffed animals that fans had sent to his boss, but had too many already, so gave them to Max for his son. Who was nonexistent to the internet, and would be for a while.

Kneeling down next to the bed, Max turned to the child who met his eyes with worry. Quentin's curly hair sprayed across the surface of the white pillow. The creases of worry and the sad look in his blue eyes. "I can't sleep..." his muffled voice barely audible behind the pillow. The word 'sleep' sounded more like 'sweep', making Max chuckle at his humbleness.

"How may I help you then?"

The child's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Bed time story?" he pleaded. Max chortled, of course he wanted a bed time story. It was almost a religion for him to read his baby picture books. The small shelf was filled with them, the colorful coverings always seemed to please him.

He got up from his knelt position and wanders to the light switch on the wall. Flicking it on, the light from the weak lamp over head flooded the little room. Max winced from his eyes being used to the darkness. Quentin threw the blanket over his face and scuttled under, the impression of his curled up body showing as the blanket slowly fell. He wandered to the small book shelf in the corner of the room. Shaking his own head to his sleepiness, he began his search for the small book. He found it smashed on the side of the ruined wood. Reaching out for it and slipping it out of the tight grip.

Max stumbled back to the small bed. The figure under the bed sheets shifted, his little boy's head popping out. Quentin moved so the his father could perch on the edge. Opening the thin, colorful book onto his lap, the larger man started reading. The small font letters finding his voice and taking over his night.