I may or may not be in love with this pairing XD I'm probably going to post more oneshots in the future for these two because I love writing Fem!Builder x Malroth. I hope you guys enjoy! You can view this as a friendship or romance fic, up to you. Personally I see it as slight romance because, well, Builderoth is the cutest ship ever, but it can be seen as them just bein' pals.

Spoilers in this oneshot as well, so you know the drill: if you haven't beaten the game yet, proceed with caution, my dudes.

"Hey, get up, will you? Come on, at least say something!"

The Builder didn't move. A strange expression rested on her features, that dopey smile nowhere to be found; instead, she looked troubled, like she was having a bad dream. For all Malroth knew, she was having a bad dream; after all, the red and black skies around them, the ruins, everything was a nightmare in and of itself. Not to mention his monstrous alter ego had just been released to wreak havoc on their world...

He stood over her, staring at her limp form. It was only after his eyes raked over her, trying to figure out if she was injured or not, that he spotted red on her upper lip.

"What's this?" He reached out and gently touched the crimson liquid, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. "Blood…?"

She still didn't stir. Her eyes remained closed and blood continued to slowly drip from her nose.

Malroth forced a grin. "Ha ha! Nice one! You had me going for a second there, but you can drop the act now."

The Builder remained eerily still, and Malroth's grin fell as quickly as it had formed. Was she even breathing? He stared at her for a few seconds before dropping to his knees and shaking her more fiercely.

"C'mon, you gotta wake up. Stop playing around!"

The cheerful blonde didn't stir. Malroth leaned his cheek against her lips, and sure enough, she wasn't breathing. That's when he began to panic.

"Seriously, wake up," he cried. "This isn't funny…"

He shook her again, her limbs lolling around, but still, the Builder did not stir.

No... No, this wasn't supposed to happen, this can't be happening...

Malroth could feel his heart aching, his eyes growing hot and itchy. She had to be alive, she just had to be! After all the battles they'd survived, after taking down his monstrous form despite her wimpy strength… No, she was alive. There was no way she…

"Wake up, damn it!" he growled, shaking her again. The Builder didn't stir, and Malroth's expression crumpled.

"Please?" he whispered. "Please, you have to wake up… I can't do this without you… Please…"

The Builder remained motionless and Malroth bowed his head in defeat, his heart breaking in half. His best friend was dead and it was all his fault. If he wasn't a monster, if he wasn't the God of Destruction, then she would be alive, she would be happy, she would be...

This is all my fault. I killed her, I got her killed, I was supposed to protect her and I killed her, this is all my fault my fault my fault my—

Malroth jolted upright in bed with a gasp, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

A frantic look around indicated he wasn't in Hargon's realm; he was in the house he and the Builder shared. The blonde was sound asleep in her own bed just a few feet away, snoring softly.

The sight of her broke his heart. He remembered her broken form, the blood, the way she wouldn't fucking wake up… And suddenly he had to know if it was real or not. The destructive young man leapt out of bed and quietly padded over to his best friend, lifting a hand to her nose. She was breathing, alright, and no blood coated her upper lip. She was fit as a fiddle, just as she always was.

He let out a relieved sigh and watched in satisfaction as she slept on. He noticed that the blanket had fallen below her shoulders and he carefully pulled it back up to her chin, tucking her in. Malroth couldn't imagine a world where his best friend was…

He shook his head fiercely in an attempt to stave off the hot tears that threatened to form in his eyes. No. She was here, right now, and this was reality. They'd defeated Hargon and Malroth's alter ego, and peace reigned throughout the world. They were okay, they were safe.

Still... He remembered the moments before the final battle, of them waking up in Hargon's destroyed castle. Wondering where he was, finding the Builder's battered body, trying to make a medicinal herb… Sometimes "what if" questions nagged at him, like what if he hadn't gotten that medicinal herb to her in time? What if she had died from his monstrous alter-ego blowing up Hargon's castle? What if he never got a chance to talk to her again after what happened in Moonbrooke?

If she had died, what would he do without her, how could he go on without her? Malroth couldn't remember his life before waking up on the Isle of Awakening, and he had no clue if he even had a life before then, but he knew one thing: meeting the Builder was the best thing that had ever happened to him. If anything ever happened to her…

He sighed, forcing the thought away. What mattered was the Builder was alive, and she was just as sweet and happy and okay as she could ever be. Since the start of their friendship, he'd stopped caring about himself and focused more on her, making sure she had everything she needed, that she was treated well, that she was safe. And all his hard work had paid off because here she was, snoring like a baby, completely at ease.

The rest of the night passed by without issue. Malroth didn't even bother trying to go back to sleep, instead picking through the bookcase. He wasn't much of a reader and he would have passed the time training, but he didn't want to wake the Builder when she needed her rest. He could have gone outside to train with one of the dummies she'd made for him, but… He didn't want to leave her side. He kept glancing over at her to make sure she was indeed breathing.

A couple days later, Malroth and the Builder were hanging out in Cerulean Steppe. The blonde was building a home for Anessa, figuring out where to put all the new furniture she'd just made, and he was sitting by the fireplace in the local inn. He could see her from his spot, the window remaining clear despite the snow coming down; the Builder didn't seem to mind the weather, too focused on finishing the new project at hand to care that snow was beginning to coat her pigtails and clothes.

At some point, the warmth from the fire began lulling Malroth to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy and he had to fight to stay awake, but as he watched the snow continue to drift down, his best friend looking over the blueprint she'd scribbled up, he began to lose the battle. When his eyes drifted shut, it felt like only a second had passed before he opened them again.

He looked around in confusion at the ruins of Hargon's castle. Where was this place? How did he even get here? The sky was such a strange color... Had he died and gone to heaven? Or hell, more likely...

Wait... Why was he getting a crazy sense of déjà vu? And where was the Builder!?

Suddenly, Malroth caught sight of a familiar pair of blonde pigtails. The Builder was lying motionless a little ways away from where he was standing. He called her name, asking if she was okay, and rushed over to her, dropping to his knees and shaking her.

"Hey, get up, will you? Come on, at least say something!"

She didn't move. A strange expression rested on her face, that dopey smile absent. After looking over her to check for injuries, Malroth noticed a spot of red beneath her nose. He touched the crimson liquid with his fingers, rubbing them together.

"What's this? Blood...?"

She didn't stir. Blood continued to slowly drip from her nose and Malroth forced a grin despite the lurch in his stomach that something was wrong, very wrong.

"Ha ha! Nice one! You had me going for a second there, but you can drop the act now."

Still, the Builder didn't move. Malroth's grin fell, the bad feeling in his gut worsening.

He whispered her name, and finally, finally, she opened her eyes.

Relief flooded him and he sighed. "Thank goodness! You're alive! You really had me worried!"

"Please..." she breathed. "Make... a medicinal... herb.."

Malroth cocked his head to the side in confusion. "...What? You need me to make you a dose of medicinal herb?"

At her affirmative hum, he grew slightly indignant and embarrassed. "Don't be silly! I can't make a thing—you know that! You've watched me try enough times..."

The Builder smiled weakly. "The Master of.. Destruction can't make... anything, but... maybe you can.."

Even at her worst, she was still willing to believe in him. Malroth wasn't exactly feeling hopeful or optimistic about his ability to create, but... He had to try. He had to do his best for her. Plus, she did have a point.

"Ahhh, I see where you're coming from!" He gave a resolved nod. "Alright, I'll give it a shot!"

As the Builder offered him one last smile and closed her eyes, resting her broken body, Malroth turned away from her, trying to figure out where to start.

"Okay—building stuff, building stuff..." He paced back and forth while racking his brain. Countless memories of watching the Builder create, place, and change all sorts of things flickered through his memory. There was always something she started out with, but what was it...? He covered his face with his hands.

"Agh, how do I do this?"

Malroth looked around the ruins. There had to be something here he could use, something to make a medicinal herb... Wasn't there a specific plant for that? He vaguely remembered the Builder always snagging a medicinal leaf from a shrub in the Moonbrooke Castle courtyard.

He hurried towards a bunch of green-covered castle wall blocks, the remains of what was once a garden, and there, amidst some of the surviving foliage, was a medicinal shrub. After obtaining a medicinal leaf, he made his way towards the workbench, trying and failing to create a medicinal herb. Once he finally managed to make one, he admired his creation before sprinting back to the Builder, who appeared to be sleeping.

"Hey!" He grinned, feeling very proud of himself for finally having been able to make something. "I made the medicinal herb you wanted! Here!"

Malroth eased her mouth open and placed the herb inside, her body lighting up with its healing power. He waited a moment; after all, she'd sustained some pretty serious wounds. It would take a few minutes, but then she'd be as good as new, just like lots of times before.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity before shaking her limp form again. Still, she remained motionless, and... Had her skin always felt this cool?

Malroth's grin faltered and he shook her again.

...She didn't move.

She wasn't breathing.

"No..." he whispered. "No, no, come on, already, get up! Stop playing around!"

He shook her harder, but the blonde didn't stir. She was completely motionless, lifeless, peace resting on her expression instead of agony. Malroth's vision began to grow watery as he wrapped his arms around her.

If he wasn't such a screw up and could make things, maybe she'd be alive. If he had gotten to her sooner, maybe he could've healed her before she—

A sob escaped him. This is all my fault.

"C'mon, you have to wake up..." His voice cracked and tears finally began to slide down his cheeks. "I c-can't... I need you with me. Please, wake up... Wake up..."

Wake up...

...

"Wake up!"

The destructive young man jolted awake, his eyes flying open in alarm as he jerked forward. He immediately winced at the sharp pain in his back from leaning against the stone fireplace.

As everything came into focus, he realized the Builder was crouched in front of him, her wide blue eyes full of concern. "Are you alright?"

Malroth's heart ached and his eyes burned, tears threatening to brim at the edges of his vision. All he could see was her eyes closed, body broken beyond a medicinal herb's healing... His best friend gone. All because of him. It was his fault. If he wasn't a monster in the first place, then maybe she wouldn't have suffered such injuries.

But... She was here right now, wasn't she? She was healthy, safe, happy... They spent their days building stuff, bashing baddies, and overall enjoying the new world they lived in. Dreams were just dreams, they didn't mean anything or make any sense. The "what if"s didn't matter when everything had worked out, right?

"I'm fine," he lied, getting to his feet. "I just nodded off for a bit."

"Right." She stood as well. "You looked like you were in pain, and you kept muttering to yourself."

"Nothing. Just a dream."

Before she could say anything more, Malroth mumbled something about being hungry and hurried out of the inn, leaving the Builder and a very confused innkeeper to wonder what was going on with the tough young man.

If that particular day in Cerulean Steppe wasn't unusual enough, the Builder definitely began to suspect something was wrong when Malroth began acting different.

Despite saving the world, he was still the same rough-and-tumble guy he'd always been. He wandered around the Isle without a care in the world, occasionally sparring with Digby and Dougie, bickering with Lulu, admiring the Builder's handiwork, fighting off monsters that dared to mess with villagers... Nothing out of the ordinary on that front.

He did, however, yawn a lot. He would yawn and rub his eyes in an attempt to fight off drowsiness, and his usual vigor for battle was unusually absent. He was happy to mash monsters, but almost every battle, no matter how big or small, left him winded. Sometimes he'd go straight home as soon as they made it back to the Isle, which wasn't like him at all; he normally enjoyed hanging out at the bar in Scarlet Sands with the miners.

Nowadays, when they were fighting alongside each other, Malroth would quickly dispose of the enemy before the Builder could even reach for her sword. He never liked seeing her go toe-to-toe with their enemies, claiming it set him on edge, but now it was almost like he didn't want her fighting at all. He took on every enemy by himself and if the Builder even tried to help him, he'd fight harder to end the battle quicker.

Malroth was also more... Clingy? The blonde knew her best friend better than anyone else (even better than Lulu, despite the pinkette claiming she knew them both better than they knew themselves), so she knew he wasn't touchy-feely or the type to hover. He'd watch her build stuff, but he would also wander off and do his own thing. Lately, however, the Builder noticed he stuck close to her often.

..."Often" meaning he was around all the time.

She'd be working on something high up in the mountains and suddenly, Malroth would pop up. He'd wander around close enough so that she could see him out of her peripheral vision. He kept an eye on her and what she was up to, never really having much to say. He never really stared at her, so it wasn't weird, but he was still there.

One day she'd informed him that she'd be spending more time in Cerulean Steppe to build a music hall. Malroth replied by saying he'd be in Scarlet Sands if she needed him, so she figured that was where he'd stay. For about two hours, the blonde was left to her work. The Builder had just finished laying down the foundations when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spied a familiar spiky ponytail. Sure enough, Malroth had made the trek to Cerulean Steppe and was hovering around her. She was very aware of his presence and didn't mind his company, but she was curious as to why he was suddenly around her all. The. Time.

When the blonde had a second after finishing one wall, she risked a peek at him. He wasn't watching her like she'd initially thought; he was propped against a tree, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed as he snoozed. The Builder would've melted at the sight (how could someone so violent be so cute?), but Malroth's expression was not one of peace: he looked troubled. Those thick dark eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a deep frown. The Builder also noticed, for the first time, that there were dark circles underneath his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping.

After debating whether or not she should wake him, she figured that Malroth should at least find a more comfortable spot to sleep. She approached him and gently shook him awake, and the destructive young man instantly got to his feet.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice thick with drowsiness, one hand immediately reaching for his hammer.

The Builder eased his hand off the hilt. "Nothing's wrong, you just look super uncomfortable."

He relaxed slightly, mumbling "I'm fine," and the Builder sighed.

"Look, my work bench is right there, at least let me make you a bed."

"I said I'm fine. Seriously, don't worry about me."

The blonde pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "Malroth."

He looked at her with what was supposed to be a non-negotiable expression, but... All she could see was the epitome of exhaustion. Something was clearly going on with him and it was weighing on him greatly.

"Why are you looking at me like I just willingly ate one of Lulu's cooking experiments?" he asked, half-jokingly. The Builder would've smiled, but she knew he was deflecting.

They knew each other well enough to know when something was bothering the other person. Malroth could read her perfectly and vice versa; so why wasn't he opening up to her? Malroth wasn't the type to be open about his feelings, but he was also the type that if you asked him, he'd be honest.

"You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What? Of course I have, you just woke me up."

"You look tired," she pressed. "Is everything okay? You're exhausted anymore."

He scoffed. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine? Just drop it already."

The dark-haired man stormed off, not really angry at the blonde as he was angry with himself. He didn't know why the nightmares had started, but they just kept getting worse. He was embarrassed that it was getting to the point where his friend was starting to notice that he wasn't at his best. How was he supposed to protect her when he couldn't even handle nightmares? And how was she supposed to feel safe with him when he couldn't even keep himself together, or at least pretend he was okay?

After an evening spent in the steamy spa at Green Gardens, Malroth and the Builder headed back to their house to retire for the night. Malroth was, of course, dragging slightly, as he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in forever, while the Builder kept a slight distance from him. She wasn't upset with him, she just wasn't sure how to broach the topic again without Malroth snapping at her. Something serious was bothering him and it was clearly a touchy subject, and forcing him to talk would only make him mad.

As they both got ready for bed, said goodnight to each other, and climbed into their respective beds, the Builder realized she wasn't actually tired. Malroth conked out pretty quickly, but she just couldn't fall asleep.

She got up and began looking through the bookcase for something to read. Most of the books here had been shipped in from Moonbrooke; they weren't about anything serious, but the revival of the war-torn country had brought with it a new age of art, literature, a booming economy, and a lot of happy folks. The Builder wasn't exactly an avid reader, but sometimes she did enjoy curling up with a book and getting lost in another world for a few hours.

Selecting a random fiction book, she returned to her bed and settled in, getting comfy under the covers. An hour passed and she was just turning the page to the third chapter when she heard a sniffle.

The blonde paused. Sure enough, it came again, and again, as if someone was crying. She glanced out the window; all the lights were off in the residential area across from them, so who...?

Suddenly, a loud gasp pierced the silence and Malroth jerked forward in his bed, panting as if he'd run a marathon. It made the Builder jump.

"Mal?"

When he caught his breath, he ran a hand over his face tiredly. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already up. Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm..." He sighed. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you ever have bad dreams?"

The Builder blinked. "Sometimes, why?"

"How long do you usually have them?"

She shifted her position so she could see him better. "Every now and then one pops up, but it's never one right after another."

He groaned softly. "Alright. I was just wondering."

A few heartbeats passed as the Builder mustered up enough courage to ask him what had been plaguing her for the past week. It was when he was getting ready to go back to sleep that she decided it was now or never.

"What's going on with you?"

He turned around, blinking at her in confusion. "Huh?"

"You're exhausted, you're having nightmares, you're unhappy..." The Builder chewed her lip worriedly. "Talk to me, Malroth. What's bothering you?"

It was quiet for a moment. Malroth didn't know what to say or how to say it, that he kept having dreams where she died or was already dead, him weeping over her broken form. Dreams where she was in danger and he couldn't get to her in time to protect her, watching her get slain as he stood there, helpless and unable to do anything. Dreams where his monstrous form managed to kill her off.

"It's just..." He struggled to find the right words. "I just... I have these nightmares, and.. they're pretty intense."

"What are they about?"

They're about losing you.

A lump of emotion formed in the back of his throat and he covered his face with his hands. His eyes burned with tears and he fought his hardest to get himself under control. He nearly jumped when the mattress dipped beside him and a pair of arms wrapped around him.

"Whatever they're about, they're just dreams," the Builder assured, rubbing his back. "They aren't real and they don't mean anything."

Malroth couldn't help it. He sniffled and suddenly the dam broke, and he grabbed her, tugging her into a bear hug. He buried his face in her shoulder and let out a shuddering sigh, his eyes shut tightly as tears slipped out.

The Builder held him and continued to rub his back. She had never seen Malroth this upset before and part of her wondered what kind of nightmare could rattle him so.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her nightgown. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm supposed to be strong, I'm not supposed to be broken down by a bunch of stupid dreams."

The blonde pulled back to look at her friend and Malroth refused to meet her eyes, ashamed of his vulnerability.

"Are you kidding me? You're one of the strongest people I know." She smiled. "I don't know what these dreams are about, and I dunno if you feel comfortable talking about them, but I do know that even at your worst, you're still as strong as ever. It's okay to not be okay sometimes, Mal."

"I know that," he grumbled. "But I'm supposed to be different."

"You're human, cut yourself some slack; you can bawl your eyes out and still be strong, you don't have to pick one or the other."

"I don't like bawling."

"I don't either, but sometimes it's necessary and it doesn't make you weak."

She reached up and wiped his tears away. When he finally looked at her, she wasn't disappointed or angry with him; all he could see was acceptance and genuine concern. It made him feel funny inside, like he wanted to hug her and never let go.

"How long have you been having these nightmares?" she asked, her voice soft and soothing. She cupped his cheek, running her thumb over the smooth skin, and Malroth leaned into her touch, his eyes falling closed.

"Weeks."

"Are they all about the same thing? Or are they about different stuff?"

He sighed. "The subject is the same, but the dreams are about different situations."

"Do you want to talk about what the subject is?"

Her broken body laying there unmoving, blood coating her face and she wasn't breathing and it was his fault his fault his—

He shook his head, trying to fight off the fresh onset of tears that were forming in his eyes. "N-no. Not really."

The Builder took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers together.

"Hmm... I have an idea," she said. "When I was little and I had a bad dream, I'd sleep next to my parents until the nightmares went away. Now, I know you're not a kid or anything, but if it helps, I could sleep next to you, that way if you have a bad dream, I'm right here and I can help remind you that everything's alright."

Malroth went to protest that he could take care of himself, that he was fine and that she should sleep in her own bed where she'd be most comfortable, but she held up a hand.

"It won't be for forever and I don't mind as long as you don't mind. No one has to know, it'll be between you and me. I just want to make sure you're okay; remember how you said you're on edge whenever you see me in a fight? Well, it puts me on edge when I see you not feeling one-hundred percent and I'm not able to do anything to help you."

His mouth closed and all his arguments flew out the window. He slumped in defeat.

"Okay, fine. I guess... I guess we could try that."

The Builder beamed. "Great! Okay, let's get comfortable."

She snaked an arm around his waist and snuggled close to him. Malroth was surprised at first, not used to being touchy-feely (especially with her), but after seeing her sigh happily and feeling her small frame wrapped around his, he decided he liked it. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her even closer.

"If you have any nightmares, wake me up," she murmured against his chest. "And if you even think about trying to handle it on your own, I'll kick your butt. Understand?"

He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

It took him a little longer than usual to fall asleep, but when he finally did, for the first time in two weeks, he slept without issue.

The Builder's offer to sleep beside Malroth proved to be just the cure he needed for his nightmares.

After the first night, the Builder slept beside him the next evening, then again, and then, when she finally deemed him okay to try to sleep on his own, Malroth realized that he was doing much better. No more bad dreams were bothering him and all seemed to go back to normal.

Yet one night, the Builder heard the familiar sharp intake of breath even while in a deep sleep. She cracked open her bleary eyes and blinked at the darkness of the room.

The gasp that woke her up was followed by heavy breathing and a frustrated growl. She didn't have to see to know Malroth had his face buried in his hands, embarrassed that a nightmare had woken him up yet again.

"You okay?" she called, and he sighed.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

It was the Builder's turn to sigh. She rubbed her eyes and waited until they adjusted to the darkness around her. When she could see, she grabbed her pillow and began to make her way towards Malroth's bed. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time she padded over to him, his gaze curious.

She sat down next to him and nudged him. "Move over, please."

"Why?"

"Just move over, I'm gonna lay beside you."

After a moment of hesitation, he shifted to make room for her, and the Builder placed her pillow beside his. She settled down next to him and Malroth tried to ignore the butterflies that formed in his stomach at her closeness.

They'd done this countless nights before and he never knew how to handle it. Nightmares were just dreams and he knew that, yet some were worse than others. He'd wake up disoriented and afraid, and somehow his best friend always knew, even when he tried to be quiet about it. At first, he felt humiliated that she had caught him at his weakest, but when she would lie down next to him, the nightmares either eased up or went away completely. He didn't know how, but she brought him peace, and considering how the nightmares were always about losing her, waking up to find her safe in his arms was the most comforting thing he could imagine.

"This okay?" she asked, wrapping an arm around his midsection and resting her cheek against his bare chest. At the feel of her snuggled close to him, he instantly felt better.

"Yeah."

"Good." She closed her eyes. "You wanna talk about it?"

He hesitated. One of the things Malroth hated most was discussing feelings, but... With her, it wasn't so bad. She never judged him and she always listened carefully to what he had to say.

"It… It was about Hargon. The visions he sent me."

"What about them?"

It always bothered him to remember that one vision where all his friends were lying in a pool of blood, all of them dead by his hands. How could any version of himself do such a thing to the people he had lived with, fought alongside, and cared for? And how could he fall for such a nasty trick, to think he was fighting monsters when actually he was fighting his friends, people who were almost like family?

When he didn't respond, the Builder opened her eyes again and looked up at him. It was rare to see him look so troubled.

"That bad, huh?"

"I…yeah." His expression fell. "There was this vision where he tricked me into… He tricked me into killing all these monsters, but they weren't monsters at all."

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and the Builder waited patiently for him to continue.

"Th-they were actually all of our friends, a-and Hargon himself…" His voice cracked, much to his embarrassment. "When I killed Hargon, he transformed into you."

"Me?"

He nodded. "Everyone I cared about was dead, you were dead, and it was all my fault. He tricked me into killing every single one of you. It bothers me because, I mean... What if I'd gone off the deep end and hurt everyone?"

Malroth's vision grew watery and the Builder sat up again, pulling him into a hug. He fought the tears back as best he could, not wanting to cry in front of the one person he cared about above the rest. As he tried to collect his bearings, the Builder rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"What matters is that you didn't go off the deep end and hurt everyone," she reminded him. "It was just a vision. It wasn't real and everyone is safe. You could've used your powers for anything, but you used them to save all of us. You saved the entire world."

"B-but in the vision, I—"

"It was all an illusion to trip you up and make you doubt yourself." She pulled back so she could meet his gaze. "You're a good person and everyone here knows that. We all know you would never hurt us; you're tough and you can be a little brazen sometimes, but you're not evil."

Malroth seemed to deflate at that. "I would never, ever hurt you."

"I know that. Isn't that what I just said?" She smiled, reaching up to brush a few stray strands of his hair out of his face. "And honestly, when Hargon took you away, everyone was very worried about you. I was the only one who could go after you, but everyone was ready to fight for you."

That surprised him. "They… They were?"

"Of course. Like I said, you're a good person. You've got a lot of friends who care about you and we all know you've got a good heart. You're worth fighting for, just as you always say how we're all worth fighting for. Whatever Hargon made you see was just a bunch of nonsense, nothing more, nothing less. Everything you see and feel right now is real, and when you see all of our friends, when you see me, that's what's real. All of us are alive and you're not dangerous; if anything, you're the one who keeps us all safe. So don't doubt yourself."

She cupped his cheek and he leaned into her touch. She always knew just what to say to help him feel better, and... He didn't know why, but he liked it when she touched him like this. If anyone else did, he'd be weirded out, but her... He liked it when she rubbed his back and touched his face.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." She yawned. "Did you dream about anything else?"

"No. Just that."

"Was that what you used to dream about before I started sleeping next to you?"

Malroth shook his head. "Those were actually worse."

The Builder looked up at him curiously. "Worse?"

Sadness filled him at the memory of seeing her lifeless body lying amidst the destruction of Hargon's castle. If anything had happened to her, if she hadn't survived or the medicinal herb hadn't helped her...

"Malroth?"

"They were about you," he admitted. "About Malhalla, and right before the final battle when you were almost... I was so scared that I'd lose you. I'm still scared of losing you. I know you're strong, but if anything ever happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

Her heart clenched painfully. So that's what had had him so rattled before... And that's why he'd been sticking extra close to her lately; he was watching over her to assuage his anxieties and make sure he was around to protect her.

"I'm not going anywhere, and you'll never lose me. I'm here with you and there's no monster or person or anything that will ever change that... Unless, of course, you decide you wanna go your own way."

"Never," he assured. "I'm always gonna be here. You're the one person I care about more than anything else in this world, so... I won't let anything happen to you, and I won't ever leave your side."

"Then we're square." She yawned. "If you have any more nightmares, wake me up?"

"Maybe."

The Builder pouted at him and he chuckled.

"Alright, alright, I promise I will. Try to get some sleep, yeah?"

The blonde cuddled up to him again and he wrapped an arm around her protectively. She was out within minutes, her breathing deep and even, and Malroth fell asleep soon after, no more nightmares plaguing him.

The next few nights, Malroth didn't have nightmares, or any dreams, for that matter. The Builder reluctantly began sleeping in her own bed again, and he had to admit, he missed having her in his arms.

Life went back to normal for a little while, the nightmares allowing the destructive man a brief reprieve.

The Builder wasn't so lucky.

Lightning crackled across the reddish-black sky as the Builder wandered the hopeless, barren landscape of Malhalla. She kept trying to find her monster friends, but there was no one there; the unholy citadel was empty aside from some unfinished ark parts. It was as if they'd just up and left, no warning or anything.

The blonde called for Malroth, but no matter where she went, she couldn't find him. Her heart hurt as she thought of what could have happened to her best friend. Was it possible that he was… that he could be dead? Had Hargon taken him away from her permanently?

Tears welled up in her eyes and she ran faster, checking every nook and cranny she could, but still, she found no signs of life anywhere. Thunder rumbled above and the Builder sank to her knees in despair.

She was alone. For the first time in her life, she was all alone, no friends or potential new friends around. No matter how much she combed the gloomy, wretched landscape, no one was here but her. She was stuck in this place alone, she would die in this place all by herself, and the worst part was that she'd failed Malroth.

Suddenly, a gravitational globule opened up behind her. It began sucking everything in, strange flora and all, and the Builder felt it pulling her in as well. She tried to scream, but no noise escaped her, and as the pull became greater with each passing minute, she realized that she wouldn't be able to save her friends, she wouldn't be able to save Malroth. They were all going to die and she was going to die, and their world would fade to nothing, everything would be destroyed and she'd never get to tell Malroth how sorry she was for allowing Warwick to imprison him in Moonbrooke, and all her monster friends had been counting on her to save them from being eradicated and—

"Hey!"

The Builder awoke with a strangled cry, jolting forward. After a few minutes of realizing it had just been a dream, that she was awake and safe in her own bed, she felt something warm and wet slide down her cheek. It took her a moment to realize she was crying. When her vision adjusted to the darkness, she also realized Malroth was sitting beside her, concern written all over his features.

Remembering the loneliness of her dream, her face crumpled and she flung her arms around him, the tears coming faster than she could fight them. She didn't think she'd ever been so happy to see him (aside from saving him from Hargon). The destructive man was caught off-guard by the sudden show of affection, but he quickly hugged her back when he heard her sniffle.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Please don't leave me," she whispered, burying her face in his chest.

"Leave you? Why would I do that? What were you dreaming about?"

"I was in Malhalla and I couldn't find you, and the other monsters weren't there either, and I was all alone and—"

She collapsed into a fit of wordless sobs. She never wanted to feel that amount of loneliness and despair ever again.

Malroth gently rocked her back and forth, just as the Builder had done for him countless nights when his nightmares got to him. "It was just a dream. I'm not going anywhere, scout's honor."

"You better not."

"I promise I won't."

"Y-you're my best friend, y'know?"

He stroked her hair. "I know. You're my best friend, too."

"I don't ever wanna lose you."

"You won't. I promise you won't."

As the blonde recollected herself, sniffling and wiping at her eyes, she pulled back.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"Oh, shut up," Malroth grumbled. "As if I don't wake you up all the time."

She managed a giggle, and he instantly felt a little better. Laughter was a good sign.

He grinned. "I know it's not a happy place for you, but Malhalla was pretty badass from what I got to see of it."

The Builder agreed, it was a pretty hardcore realm—or was it a planet?—but it was not a place she remembered fondly… except, of course, the monster friends she'd made. Gremville, Arisplotle, Captain Whitebones, Griswold, N04H, Hellen... She still cared about them and it had relieved her greatly when she received a letter from Captain Whitebones assuring her that they were all okay. It was even more of a relief to have her monster friends, including Molly and the kind monsters from Skelkatraz, join them on the Isle of Awakening. Everyone had made it out safe and sound.

But the heartbreak of not being able to set things right with Malroth after Moonbrooke, the worry of him being taken away, of him hurting and trying to handle everything all by himself when what he really needed was a shoulder to lean on... She hated thinking about all those feelings.

"In the dream… No matter where I went, I couldn't find you, our friends, the monsters… I was all alone, and I..."

Her voice cracked and she looked away. Malroth sighed, taking her hand in his.

"It was just a nightmare. I'm not going anywhere and I'm definitely not leaving you anytime soon; who else is gonna build me my Empire of Evisceration?"

She cracked a smile.

"Hargon ain't gonna be bothering us again, and I'm here for as long as everyone needs me. As long as you need me."

The Builder looked up at him shyly. She stared at him for a few moments and he was about to ask her if she was okay when she leaned up and kissed him softly, her lips sweet and warm.

The kiss lasted for maybe a minute, maybe a second. When she went to pull away, sputtering out an apology for having crossed some kind of line, Malroth grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for another kiss, this one much more passionate. It was like experiencing heaven after being in hell for so long, and when they broke for air, they both felt butterflies and warm fuzzies. The Builder's eyes were still puffy and swollen from crying, but that dopey smile was back, just as it should be. Malroth knew he was grinning like an idiot, too.

They stayed like that for a little while, just looking at each other. The Builder reached up to cup his face and when she did, Malroth gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. The action made her blush and giggle, looking down, and Malroth's grin grew even wider.

Outside, they heard a door open and close, followed by the sound of boots treading through wet soil. It had rained through the night, and the Builder and Malroth knew Rosie was always the first farmer awake before the day truly began. That meant it was already morning; the sun would soon be up and there would be more things for the blonde to build, and more monsters for the destructive man to fell.

All of that could wait until later. What mattered was the quiet moment they were sharing right then and there.

The Builder yawned, covering her mouth as she did so, and Malroth settled down beside her. He opened his arms and she happily obliged, snuggling close to him as she always did. He kissed her forehead and she nuzzled her face against his chest affectionately.

"You're so warm," she mumbled, and he chuckled.

"Are you complaining?"

"Never."

"Good. Then get some sleep; I'll be right here when you wake up."

After a little while, he was sure she'd fallen asleep when she spoke up again.

"Hey, Mal?"

He hummed in reply.

"Thanks."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead again, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't mention it."

"Has anyone seen Malroth or the Builder?" Rosie asked, wiping her brow. It was almost noon and no one had seen either person. They were both usually awake by now, so it was strange not to see either of them.

The other farmers indicated they hadn't, and Bonanzo shrugged.

"Maybe they went off adventurin'."

Rosie hummed absentmindedly in response, looking towards the home the two best friends shared. Setting down her hoe, she made her way to the decent-sized house and peeked into the window.

She was surprised to find Malroth and the Builder sound asleep in Malroth's bed, both snuggled up to each other in a very intimate position. The destructive young man's arm was around the blonde almost protectively, and the blonde had never looked more at peace than she did in his embrace.

They looked like a couple. The more the tealette thought about it, they practically were a couple with how close they were. Malroth always remained by the Builder's side, no matter where she went, and the Builder was always touching him in some way, whether it was to hold his hand or hug him. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't together, and they always joked and bickered and ran about like two best friends who were secretly crushing on each other. It was sweet.

Malroth stirred and slowly opened his eyes. Upon realizing who he was holding, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the Builder's forehead, who smiled softly in return. Rosie giggled, lifting a hand to her mouth. She wished she could take a picture of the two; they looked so adorable together.

"What's all the 'ubbub?"

Perry's loud voice made her jump and she immediately whirled on her heel, shushing him. He blinked.

"What? Did you find 'em?"

"They're still sleeping," she explained quietly, motioning towards the window. Perry looked in and narrowed his eyes.

"'Ow come they get to sleep in, but we 'ave to get up at the bleedin' crack o'dawn?"

Rosie reached over and pinched his arm, and he jerked away from her, rubbing the sore skin.

"Oi! What was 'at for?!"

"We should let them be. Come on, we have a lot of work to get done today."

With that, she dragged the indignant farmer back to the field, leaving Malroth and the Builder to continue enjoying their morning.