Ian's day began like any other. He woke up at 2:00 AM, slid into his slippers, and left his bed. He then wandered outside and sat on the porch, enjoying the beauty of his neighborhood, silent and asleep. The world awake wasn't like this. It was loud and crass. People were rude, indifferent, and uncaring. Ian had never been able to deal with this. When he encountered his first schoolyard bully at the tender age of 8, an ogre named Jack, he had fought back against him as hard as he could. He threw wood chips at him and ran, he swung his small fists as hard as he could into the aggressor's chest, but nothing worked. His fighting spirit was crushed at a young age. Ian had walked home, bruised, bleeding, and quietly sobbing, everyday for 2 years until Jack moved away. It was around this time Ian began coming outside to appreciate the world when his family, neighbors, and classmates couldn't ruin it for him. Only Barley knew about this strange habit of his. One night, after getting a midnight snack, Barley had gone outside to eat it, and found Ian curled up on a lawn chair. Ian leaned back in his chair and remembered the incident.

Ian stirred from his trance as he registered in the background of his thoughts, the screen door opening. The silhouette of his twelve year old brother stepped outside, and shut the door quietly. Ian heard him gasp, and assumed Barley had only now realized that he was not the only one outside.

"Ian?" he heard. "That's you right? Not some other child sitting outside alone at 2 in the morning?"

"Yeah, it's me," Ian whispered. Barley walked over to him and sat, cross-legged next to him. He tore the wrapper from his ice cream sandwich and took a bite.

"So," he said with a mouth full of crumbs. "Why are you outside?" Ian shifted in his chair to turn his face from Barley.

"Dunno. Couldn't sleep." he replied.

"That's total unicorn crap. What's the real reason?"

"I really couldn't sleep!"

"But…"

"Well… it's been happening for a while, I guess."

"How long?" Barley's voice shifted from teasing to concerned.

"Uhh. Two months?"

"Well, that's not good. Why, though?"

"I don't know. It's much better outside at night time than in the day." Barley popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth.

"Ok… how long do you stay out here?"

"Usually until you or Mom gets up. Then I sneak back into bed and pretend I'm asleep."

"Ian! You get like 6 hours of sleep at most! That is definitely not healthy!"

"But I've been doing fine for the last couple of months…"

"It doesn't matter. You're growing. Your brain won't develop the right way if you don't sleep enough!"

Ian curled into a ball, hugging his bony knees tight against his chest.

"But I like it…" Barley sighed and ran a hand down his face in an exasperated manner. He stood up, stuffed his ice cream wrapper in his pocket, and plucked Ian out of his chair, setting him on his shoulders.

"Let's go for a run, Iandore." Barley took off galloping, holding on tight to Ian's legs. He didn't seem to mind that Ian was pulling his hair trying to stay balanced. They were nearly 2 miles from their street before Barley spoke.

"It's better at night?"

"Yeah. I like the world a lot better at night."

"Weird. Well, maybe if you do it once or twice a week until you're older. I just don't like the idea of you skipping out on so much sleep." Barley was panting hard, and his steps began to slow.

"Maybe, I could do it once or twice a week. Let's go home now."

"Yeah," Barley exhaled roughly. "Let's head back."

Ian stood up, and stretched. He looked out at their quiet little street. Then, without quite realizing what he was doing, he jogged away from their house around the same route he and Barley had run 7 years ago. His feet steadily pounded the pavement. Ian's ratty old slippers began to pop stitches, so he took them off and kept running. The pebbles on the sidewalk dug into his feet every time he took another step, but he didn't really mind. After about 10 minutes he reached the spot where Barley had turned around. Here he stopped, remembering digging his hands into Barley's deep blue hair and holding on for dear life. He recalled how Barley had successfully bargained with him, to stop his slightly unhealthy habit from spiraling out of control. Ian thought, wondering if anyone else would have had that effect on him, if anyone else could have saved him like that from himself. He came to the conclusion that only Barley could. He turned and walked back home.

When he got there, he snuck inside, and quietly entered his brother's room. Barley was sound asleep, and curled on his side, facing away from Ian. Ian crept to his side, and gently slipped under his blankets. When Ian was young, he would go to Barley instead of going outside at night. This was the first time Ian had done it in 3 years. He stared at the ceiling, and slowly fell asleep.

…

Barley woke up and stretched, accidently running his elbow into something on his bed. He moved the blankets aside, and realized that the mysterious object was Ian. Ian had come in the middle of the night and fallen asleep on his bed. Barley was oddly touched. His brother hadn't done this since he was 12. In an effort not to disturb him, Barley slid off his side of the bed, and crawled around to face Ian. He took the blanket and tucked it around his little brother gently and slowly. Ian was sound asleep, and didn't look like he was going to be waking up any time soon. It wasn't a school day, so there wasn't really a need to. Barley checked his watch, and realized his shift at the grocery store started in an hour. He snatched his uniform from where it lay crumpled on the ground, and changed. Ian mumbled something in his sleep, and rolled over so he wasn't facing Barley any more. Just in case Ian had something to do today, Barley set an alarm for 8:00, 3 hours from now. Barley stroked a comb through his hair two or three times, and then deemed himself presentable. Taking one last look at Ian, he quietly slipped from the room.