"It's nothing, Lord Hater, I just… Goodnight." His voice shook a little, but it didn't break. He was fine. He had to be fine.

"Hey, Peepers?"

The commander looked over his shoulder, still determined not to have emotions. "Yes, Sir?"

Lord Hater lay with his back to the door, lit by the lamp on the nightstand and the stripe of light from the half-open door. "Can you get me a glass of water?"

"Of course I can, Sir. I'll be right back."

He returned three minutes later with a glass of water.

Hater drank about two drops, then he set it on the nightstand.

Peepers turned back to the door. He started to pull it shut behind himself but stopped.

"Peepers?"

"Yes, Lord Hater?" Peepers didn't face him this time.

"Could you… uh… tell me a story?"

As stubborn and resolute as he liked to think he was, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"...and so, the all-powerful Lord Hater, Number One Superstar, vanquished the terrible do-gooders and lived happily ever after."

Hater didn't say anything. His eyes were closed and his breaths were deep and even.

Peepers watched him for a second, then stood up. "Goodnight." He turned to the door and took two steps before Hater's voice froze him in place.

"Peepers...?"

Alright, it was cute the first time. "What?"

Hater looked around. "I need… uh… Gimme my bear."

Peepers sighed and walked over to where the stuffed bear lay on the floor. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. "If I give this to you, will you let me go to bed?"

Hater nodded.

Peepers set the bear in Hater's arms and turned back to the door.

"Peepers?"

"What do you want from me!" Peepers gripped the door handle harder and did his best to keep from screaming.

Hater shrank back and hugged his bear. "Can I… have a drink?"

Peepers pointed to the glass on the nightstand.

"Will you tell me a story?"

"Sir, no disrespect, but please. I already got you a drink. I told you a story. You have your bear. It's late and I just… I just… Goodnight." He blinked back hot tears and reached for the door handle again.

"Commander Peepers?"

He was tired, he was confused, and he was doing his best to look like he didn't care, but he did care, darn it, and this was exactly why he had stayed at Hater's right hand for as long as he had. "Yes?"

"Can you tuck me in?"

"Tuck you-? What?" He looked back and, sure enough, the blanket was on the floor. It had been on the bed a second ago. "Fine."

Peepers picked up the blanket and threw it over Lord Hater, tucking him in. He left his hand on Hater's shoulder for a second before stepping back.

"Peep-"

"Yeah? What do you want now? A goodnight kiss?"

"...no. It's nothing. I just… Goodnight."

Peepers stood with his arms folded across his chest and his lungs covered in ice. After a second, the tension went away and all that was left was a hollow sadness. He was supposed to be Lord Hater's loyal commander who came up with plans and offered a shoulder to cry on after a breakup. Right now, he wasn't acting like it. His voice was softer than even he expected. "Hater, is there anything you want me to do for you before I go?"

"No. I said never mind."

Peepers looked at Hater and took a risk. "Do you want me to stay here?"

Hater nodded silently and lifted the blanket.

"Oh." Peepers' brain skipped a beat. "O-okay then. I guess it couldn't hurt."

He pulled himself up onto the bed and lay on the very edge.

Hater pulled him closer and held him like that.

They fit together like puzzle pieces. Peepers could feel Hater's heartbeat and hear every breath. It was hard to describe. He had always wanted to fall asleep in Hater's arms, but this wasn't right. It was too casual.

"Goodnight, Commander Peepers." The words shook Hater's rib cage and Peepers could feel the deep pitch and rough edges.

"Goodnight, Lord Hater."