The first coherent thought he had was that he had no idea what time it was.

It wasn't that he was wondering what strange hour of the night it could be, it was that he had absolutely no idea if it was day or night, or something else entirely. He even looked down at the big digital clock across the room, and stared at "3:37 AM" for a good while, uncomprehending.

He realized he knew where he was, though. The bunk bed, top bunk. He knew where Yakko and Dot were, just below him. He could hear Dot's soft snoring. Yakko could get eerily silent when he wasn't talking in his sleep, but Wakko could still feel him there.

It didn't matter that Dot and Yakko were close. It didn't matter that he knew where he was. The clock read "3:56 AM" and he just couldn't wrap his mind around what that could possibly mean, what he was supposed to be doing.

He realized with vague detachment that he had never felt so afraid or alone in his life.

His chest felt hollow and he was shaking, pressing himself against his pillow and mattress so hard it hurt a little. He was hugging himself, wanting to reach out for something but there was nothing there, he didn't have anything—

In a split second of clarity, he managed to scrabble down the bunk bed ladder, landing hard on his knees, and almost got up and hopped into Yakko's bunk. But another wave of – whatever it was – hit him, and moments later he was hugging the bedpost, shaking harder than before. He didn't want to bother Yakko, he didn't really have an explanation for this, Yakko would probably just shove him out of his space and—

"Geez, Wak, you make falling out of bed look like an art." Wakko only caught a glimpse of Yakko's tired smirk, because his entire demeanor changed when he got a good look at Wakko.

In what seemed like a few inhumanly fast, strong movements, Yakko got down next to Wakko, pried him off of the bedpost, and enveloped Wakko in a soft, strong warmth. Wakko was clutching at him almost as quickly, feeling Yakko's fingers run through his fur.

Yakko seemed to be trying to whisper, half to sooth Wakko and half to avoid waking Dot, but he was a blurter by nature. "You hurt yourself?" Wakko shook his head. "Nightmare?" Wakko paused. He couldn't really remember having any sort of dream at all, but he sure felt like he'd had a really bad one when he woke up. He ended up simply shrugging. Yakko gave a short laugh, and Wakko felt it vibrate deep in his core. "Okay. Want me to wake up Dot?"

Wakko was about to shake his head when a rather irritable voice from slightly above them rasped, "She's awake."

Yakko didn't miss a beat. "Dot, let's switch to one bed."

Dot muttered something and managed to pull herself to the edge of her bunk, looking only half-awake and rather incredulous. "It's like two in the morning, why— " She snapped awake, catching sight of them. "Wakko, you okay?"

Yakko adjusted his arms. Wakko realized he was trying to pull Wakko closer to him, which appeared now to be physically impossible. He said, "Nightmare or something," so detachedly that Wakko knew at once that Yakko didn't really care about the source of his distress anymore; he was just concentrating on fixing the distress itself.

Wakko tried to concentrate Yakko's chest vibrated when he talked, but guilt overtook him and he gave a low whine, muttering something that he hoped sounded like, "I didn't mean to wake you guys up."

Yakko laughed again. "Hey, don't worry, I wasn't asleep."

Dot groaned, stepping down the ladder with a lot more grace than Wakko had probably used. "That's probably why I'm the cute one, I'm the only one in this family who ever sleeps."

Wakko could feel his mouth slurring his words, but he couldn't care. Worry was replacing guilt. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

Yakko shrugged.

"Well, we're going to sleep now," Dot decided, already making herself comfortable on Yakko's bunk. Wakko realized his and Yakko's deathgrips on each other had loosened, just as Yakko did some shifting and pulled him to his feet.

Yakko asked him if he needed anything just as Wakko was sliding in next to Dot, seeming to suggest some kind of food or something to drink. Wakko shook his head, hoping he conveyed his nausea well enough with a look. Yakko looked mildly concerned, understandably, but Dot wrapped her arms around Wakko's middle, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I bet it was those pickles you ate before bed."

Yakko, after a bit of pushing and adjusting on the bed meant for a single person, managed to make a place for himself, throwing an arm across Wakko, with his hand landing naturally somewhere on Dot behind him. Wakko quickly nuzzled his face into Yakko's chest.

He felt centered and safe. Dot fell asleep almost immediately, soft snoring she swore was simply "the sound of her cuteness increasing tenfold" revving right back up again. Wakko never saw if Yakko got any sleep, but he definitely relaxed, chest rising and falling and heartbeat sounding with a soothing regularity.

Wakko woke up to Yakko falling off of the bed, halfway pulling him down with him, and Dot's sharp laughter.