"Oh."

At the surprised sound of Cass' voice, Tadashi and Gogo looked up from the notes for their engineering project, which covered the dining room table.

"You're still up?" Cass went on.

They were about to question her use of the word "still" when Tadashi glanced at the clock - 1:35 AM. "Wow," he murmured, removing his glasses. "Guess we better call it a night, huh?"

Gogo shrugged. "I mean, this wouldn't be the latest I've stayed up for an assignment." She peered outside at the rain spattering against the window. "I probably should head out, though—"

As if on cue, a clap of thunder roared so loudly that dishes could be heard rattling in the drying rack. When the room had once again gone quiet, Cass spoke up, "Why don't you stay the night?"

Gogo shook her head. "No, thanks, I'm alright—"

"No, I don't want you going out in this," insisted Cass. "I'd feel better if you stayed here."

Taking a moment to consider whether she could afford to take her bike out in such a downpour, and ultimately landing on no, Gogo shrugged. "Okay. Thanks."

After calling her parents to inform them of the situation, Gogo curled herself up in the window seat between the house's staircases. It wasn't until Cass and Tadashi bid her goodnight and left the living room that she realized just how tired she was. Within minutes, Gogo had dozed off.

An hour went by before she was awoken by the sound of someone stumbling down the stairs.

Gogo's eyes flew open and she shot upright, only to face Hiro, who stood at the bottom of the steps with a vacant stare. Instantly, the sense of alarm that woke her was replaced with mild confusion. "Uh… hey, Hiro," she said cautiously, not even certain that she had his attention from the look on his face.

Hiro said nothing, instead making his way into the kitchen with something in his hand. Her confusion growing, Gogo slowly stood up and followed after him. When Hiro stopped in front of one of the cabinets beside the sink, she leaned over the island to get a better look at what he was holding.

Wait.

Was that…?

With his eyes half-closed, Hiro took a box of cereal out of the cabinet and began pouring it into…

Yup.

Tadashi's hat.

"What are you doing?" Gogo hissed at him. Again, Hiro ignored her as he walked to the fridge.

Oh, this was NOT gonna end well.

Gogo began to wonder if the brothers had gotten into a fight earlier in the evening, or if they were in the midst of some kind of prank war —anything that would warrant this— before another thought occurred to her. She walked up beside Hiro as he opened the fridge and reached for a carton of milk, and briefly waved a hand in front of his face.

No response, as she expected.

Before he could open the milk, she whispered, "Dude, are you awake?"

She did not expect Hiro to whip his head around and glare at her with his creepy dead eyes, but that was exactly what happened. Gogo was too stunned to say anything else, so she simply stepped back as Hiro filled the hat up with milk.

In any other situation, Gogo would have been the first to take action, a fact to which nearly everyone she knew could attest, but this was completely new to her. She was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to try and wake Hiro up (why, however, she had no idea), but besides that, she was at a total loss. All she could think to do —and even then, "think" was a word she used loosely— was stand there and watch the kid sleepwalk around the house using his brother's hat as a freaking cereal bowl.

At least he had the decency to use a spoon.

With a defeated shake of her head, she walked across the room and lay back down in the window seat. She fell asleep still fully aware of Hiro snacking away on the couch.

After half an hour or so (long after Hiro had gone back to bed), Tadashi quietly descended the stairs and crept into the kitchen. Being mindful of Gogo, he turned the faucet on the sink just enough for a trickle of water to come out and fill up the glass he pulled down from the cabinet. When he'd finished his drink, he placed the glass in the sink and turned around, unfortunately walking right into the island. He grabbed his foot and let out a cry of "Ow!" before he could stop himself.

The sound startled Gogo awake, and she sprang to her feet with her fists clenched and a look on her face that could only be described as "kill".

Tadashi gasped, stumbling backwards in fright. "Sorry!" he whispered as he sturdied himself against the dining table.

Gogo approached him silently, stopping only when she got as close to him as humanly possible.

Tadashi was unnerved by the cold, hard glare she fixed him with; it felt like she was staring into his soul. "…Something wrong?" he finally asked.

At first, Gogo didn't reply. Then she pointed an index finger in his face and said sternly, "Please tell me you're conscious."

"Wha—" Tadashi froze mid-word, then his expression fell with realization. "Oh, Hiro?"

Gogo's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'Oh, Hiro'?" she snapped, doing a poor imitation of her friend's voice. "You didn't think it was important to tell me he sleepwalks?"

"He usually doesn't," Tadashi answered with a sheepish shrug. "I didn't think it was worth bringing up."

Once again, Gogo was quiet. After a moment, she started walking backwards towards the window seat, glaring at Tadashi the entire time.

"…What are you doing?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Getting as far away from you as I can so I don't strangle you."

Tadashi was about to apologize when Hiro once again toppled down the stairs, tripping on the last step and landing face-down on the floor. Gogo jumped back from him as Tadashi walked over to help him up. "You alright, buddy?" he said softly.

Hiro looked lost in the most literal sense, taking a tired, disoriented glance at his surroundings. Tadashi took this as a cue to go on talking to him. "Go back to bed."

"…'Kay," Hiro mumbled, and he immediately turned around and went back upstairs.

When Hiro was gone, Tadashi laughed. "Heavy sleeper, I guess," he muttered. His smile drooped when he saw the not-angry-just-disappointed look that Gogo was giving him. "…What?"

Gogo wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, he could have mentioned this to her so she wouldn't have had her little wide-awake nightmare (or, at the very least, so she would've been prepared); but on the other, he could easily have taken that opportunity to mess with Hiro right back, and instead just sent him on his way. That had to count for something in the grand scheme of things, right? Finally, she decided to tell him, "Wash your hat."

"What does—"

"Trust me."

After a five-second staring contest, Tadashi shrugged again and headed for the stairs. "Okay. 'Night."

"'Night." For the last time that night, Gogo lay down in the window seat and went back to sleep. Tadashi had gotten off easy this time, but if anyone asked tomorrow why his hat smelled like milk, he was on his own.