Two AM
By Cybra

A/N: Okay, different spin on an old story that's been buzzing through my brain for months. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Code Lyoko is Antefilms. All worship the French.

Step. Step. Step. Step…

It took exactly eleven steps for the genius in the room above his to cross the aforementioned space. Then there would be a quiet shuffle as said genius turned around. After that, there would be eleven more steps, and the process repeated itself.

Oh, Peter was sure that Jeremy was not trying to wake anyone. After all, each footfall was soft, gentle, near-silent. However, Peter was a light sleeper, unlike his roommate who slept soundly through the nightly ritual.

Peter would lie awake in bed, listening to the pacing. It always woke him up at two AM on the dot. He wondered what Jeremy could possibly be doing up at that unreasonable hour. And until the pacing itself lulled him back to sleep, the boy lying in bed tried to figure out what the boy pacing his bedroom floor was thinking.

Sometimes it seemed like the pacing lasted all night, for he would wake up the next morning to it. Sometimes, it stopped after a few minutes. Sometimes, there was a mix of pacing, pauses, and then barely-heard curses as if something had just escaped the genius's grasp. (Though as to what that could possibly be, Peter had no idea.)

He would see Jeremy later in the day with his head lying on his desk before class, trying to catch a few minutes of sleep. When Peter actually saw the other boy's face, he would see the dark rings around Jeremy's eyes. Some days, Jeremy did not even show up to class, possibly to catch up on lost sleep.

Even though it was technically not his business, the whole situation drove Peter mad. Why did Yumi, Odd, and Ulrich do nothing while Jeremy started to look more and more like the walking dead? Were they or were they not his friends?

And why was Jeremy not going to Dorothy for help? She could give him something to help the insomnia. Was he simply too proud to ask for help, or was there another reason?

If there was another reason, did it have to do with all of the strange words and numbers Jeremy had been furiously scribbling in his notebook one day as if hit by a flash of insight? The young genius had seemed positively joyful as he scratched the complex mix of letters and numbers down. Peter had ended up sitting next to Jeremy that day and had given himself a headache just by glancing at the notebook.

And yet, at two AM that night, there had been the pacing and the barely-heard curses of frustration.

So as Peter lie awake in bed, wracking his brain in order to figure out the thoughts of another, more powerful one, the steps started to become rather soothing in their quiet regularity. His eyelids drooped, and his brain abandoned the puzzle for another night.

Step. Step. Step. Step…