Clay said goodnight to the others and settled down under the covers on his little sleeping mat. Bad had been nice and given him two blankets so "you can be a warm muffin." Clay smiled at his kindness, but he had a feeling he wouldn't sleep much.

He lay in the darkness for awhile, thoughts swirling in his head. He wished he could just stop thinking and fall asleep.

A sound came from the bed. It was Skeppy.

"Hey Bad. You awake?" His voice was soft; Clay could barely hear it.

"Mhumph, yeah" He didn't sound very awake.

"I wanna ask you something."

"Mhm what is it." Bad shifted a little in the soft blankets.

"Geppy?"

"Nothing." Skeppy was so quiet Clay barely caught it.

"Go to sleep you muffinhead." Bad mumbled.

"K" One of them turned over, maybe Skeppy, but it was impossible to know if he turned to Bad or away from him.

Clay stayed silent and listened to his breathing. He tried to relax.

Sleep is always the hardest to find when it's the only thing you want.

Maybe a few hours or a few years later he decided to get some water.

At this point everyone had to be asleep, right?

Even so, he tried to be as quiet as possible slipping out of the blankets and off the mattress. He crept towards the door.

"Where u going?"

A6d.

Guess not everyone was asleep.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He heard rustling and the figure of a6d separated itself from the darkness.

"I'm thirsty too."

They lounged around the counter with their glasses of water; neither of them really wanted to go back into the heavy silence of Bad's bedroom.

The atmosphere between them was casual as they sipped the water.

"So did I wake you up?" Clay asked Vincent guiltily.

"Nah, I was not asleep, just kinda in-between, you know? I felt the mattress shift and roused."

Vincent never sleeps, Skeppy said.

He was hit with a sudden sympathy for the insomniac. Sleep is really important for functioning properly; maybe that's why he's sort of lethargic all the time. Apathetic.

Then again I'm probably just overthinking.

"Why were you still awake?" Vin asked him.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "I just can't turn my brain off, I guess."

"I understand that." Vincent took another sip of water.

Clay suddenly wanted something to do with his hands. He started rummaging in a cupboard for something he could taste.

It was quiet for a second as he moved stuff aside and tried to figure out which foods were which in the dim light of the kitchen.

Then Vincent broke the silence. "It's been kinda hard since moving here."

Clay stopped for half a second, his hand outstretched. Then he continued shuffling through the cabinets, thinking.

It's not normal for Vin to express insecurity. He doesn't really seem like the kind of person to open up.

But that's definitely a statement that asks for more attention.

"How so?" As he spoke Clay finally found what he was looking for and plopped the bag of candy on the counter.

He offered a gummy lifesaver to Vin and raised his eyebrows, telling him to continue.

"Well I had lots of fun during my exchange year, you know. America's not that bad. The food is obviously worse than Europe." He gnawed on the gummy. "We don't have as much gummy stuff, more quality chocolate and caramel." He paused.

"You like caramel?" Clay asked.

"Yeah." Vincent was staring off into space, chewing another lifesaver. "Skeppy and Bad are really great; they keep me going. But I still miss France, you know?"

"Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, it's your home country." Clay had never left the state, so he really didn't know what it was like to miss home.

"How long have you been here now?" He asked Vincent.

"Four months since we moved for good. Fifteen since I first came here."

"That's-"

Clay's response was cut off by a high-pitched whine coming from one of the other rooms.

"What was that?" Clay asked out loud.

"Probably Rat." Vincent said, heading toward the noise.

"A rat?" Clay took a step back.

"No," Vin rolled his eyes, "not a rat. Rat, Bad's dog!"

Clay blinked. "I thought his dog's name was Lucy."

"It is," Vin replied, walking away, "but he calls her Rat for some reason."

He stopped. "You coming or what?"

Clay hurried to follow him into the hallway, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.

Vincent stopped in front of a door, there was light scratching on the other side and more whining.

"I really hope this is not his parents' room." He said as he opened the door.

A little ball of white fur barreled right into his legs and started yipping at his knees.

Vin was quick in picking her up and shushing her. Surprisingly, she listened and just sat happily in his arms.

As Clay closed the door he heard a meow at his feet. Ian.

He looked down at the cat and then at Vincent for permission.

"He'll let you pick him up." Vin's arms were full of hyperactive dog anyway.

Clay gently scooped up the cat and they walked back to the kitchen with the pets in their arms.

Clay set Ian down on the floor but he promptly jumped onto the counter and stared impassively down at Lucy. The dog just wagged her tail and circled the counter, then Vincent, then Clay, then she sat down, tired.

Clay smiled at her as Vincent found the dog treats and continued talking to him.

"Most of the time I'm happy that we moved, ouais, c'est difficile, mais plus de temps-" He trailed off when he saw Clay's confused expression and his eyes widened when he realized he had lapsed into French.

"Désolé- ugh- sorry. I didn't realize."

"It's okay." Both Clay's and Lucy's eyes followed the treat as Vincent held it above the dog's head. She yipped, tail wagging, and he quietly shushed her again before letting her have the treat and petting her head.

"But yeah," Vin continued, "sometimes I get sad, but I'm okay with it overall. I didn't have friends like Skeppy and Bad in France. And you too, bien sûr." He smiled at Clay.

Clay smiled back hesitantly. He doesn't smile much, I just noticed. He laughs at Bad and Skep and other stuff, but he doesn't really just smile at things.

"So now will you tell me what's really bothering you?" Vin asked gently, and Clay knew he could refuse and it would be okay.

But Vin had told him something personal, and it would be a relief to talk to someone.

Or it could be a disaster.

He hushed the negative voice in his head and thought of how to phrase what he was feeling.

"I've been having a lot of anxiety lately; and sometimes it stops me from sleeping."

Vin nodded and Ian came over to him for pats.

Clay kept his eyes on the sleek cat as he said the next bit.

"What's been confusing me the most is George." He glanced up at Vin as he said George's name. He didn't react, just listened patiently, like his cat.

Clay looked down and went on, "He's acting different. He doesn't answer my messages or look me in the face. He's been avoiding me and I don't know why.

Well, maybe I do." Clay was ashamed.

Vincent's hand froze on Ian's back and he watched the other boy carefully. Clay didn't notice; he was too caught up in doubt.

"I think I was a bad friend to him...

I think I left him alone too much and now he's replacing me."

He choked back the sudden tears at his eyes, surprised.

Vin came to his side and rubbed his back.

"I- I think he hates me." Clay broke down.

Vincent comforted him, hugged him and murmured "it's okay," "it'll be okay."

Clay hardly heard him over his loud heartbeat and ragged breathing. Tears rolled gently down his face as horrible thoughts rolled through his brain. He sniffed and cried even more into Vincent's shoulder.

Vin kept hugging him and comforting him until he calmed down. Clay realized he was sitting on a stool and Ian was in his lap, he didn't even know when he got there. Had Vin put him there, or did he come with an instinct to help the human in distress?

Once he was ready to listen, Vin told him, "He does NOT hate you, Clay. George is not able to hate you, at least not long anyways. You are not a bad friend, and I don't think he's replacing you. He's probably just going through something on his own and wants space. Whatever it is," His hard eyes looked straight into Clay's tear-filled ones, "it IS NOT your fault."

"You understand, Clay? It's not your fault; don't blame yourself."

Clay nodded pitifully and pulled Vin closer to him, breaking eye contact but wanting him closer. He leaned his head against his friend's and sniffed.

His voice was shaky, but he spoke anyway. "Thanks, Vin."

"Of course, Clay. I'm here for you." His arms were wrapped protectively around him, and their heads were pressed together. Clay felt safe.

Vin spoke against him, "Sorry if I pushed you, I didn't mean to."

"It's ok." Clay sniffed again, "You didn't push me, it was probably building up for a while." He was just happy Vin was there to comfort him and make him feel better again.

After he had completely calmed down the boys disentangled, but Vin stayed close to Clay as they finished their waters and put away the things they'd gotten out.

They put an unhappy Lucy back into her room and made their way back through the kitchen to where Skeppy and Bad slept.

Before they went in Clay tugged on Vin's sleeve, Ian striding at their feet.

"Hey, Vin," He said with a smile, "you're a lifesaver." He held up in his other hand a lifesaver from his pocket.

Vincent looked at it blankly.

"I don't know this word." He said, his French accent heavier than usual.

Clay looked at him in disbelief, frozen for a second before a6d burst out laughing.

"I'm- heheha- I'm kidding." He snatched the candy from Clay's hand and brushed past him into the room. "You're a snack, yourself."

(1.7 words)