Your eyes were barely open as you turned on the light in the kitchen. Arising from a deep sleep for such a stupid reason as thirst was never something you enjoyed. You'd only wake up several hours later to pee, anyways. Dumb cycle.

"Hey..." A voice greeted softly from the living room. For a moment, you thought you were hearing things. Then, it spoke again. "How come you're up?"

You turned around and rubbed your eyes. Patrick was stretched out on the couch, covered by a quilt. His head was propped up on the arm of the couch as a makeshift pillow. It didn't look very comfortable.

"I'm thirst," you said slowly. "Why are you here?"

"Well, your dad got caught up in something and won't be home until tomorrow. So, here I am, just to keep an eye on you."

"Mm," you grunted, too tired to even think much of it. "Did the Flyers win?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Your dad got real worked up about it."

"Who's surprised? He loves them." You reached up for a glass, then headed for the sink. "What sort of business did he get caught up in, anyways?"

"He, uh..." Patrick sat up, looking slightly apprehensive. "Maybe you should come sit down."

"What, is he in jail or something?" You jested between gulps of your water. When Patrick didn't reply, you set your glass down, suddenly feeling very awake. "Oh, shit, is he really in jail?"

"Just for the night," he reassured, as if that was any better. "He had a little too much to drink, so he's posted up in a holding cell tonight. I don't think there's going to be any charges."

"Why didn't they just let you take him back home?" You demanded, approaching him rapidly. "You seem sober enough."

"I haven't had anything to drink, thank you. And they took him because he climbed into the drivers' seat of the truck. Apparently, that counts as a DUI in some states, and this is one of them."

"That's bullshit, is what it is. Did he start the truck?"

"Nope."

"Did he even have his keys in his hand?"

"No, they were still in the truck. That's what he went for."

"So how the hell--" You sighed sharply, frustrated and too exhausted to handle it correctly.

"Hey," he said gently. "I get it. You're stressed; I'm stressed; everybody's stressed. But we'll go pick him up in the morning and go from there. Nothing we can do right now except get you back in bed."

"How do you expect me to sleep with my dad in jail?" You exclaimed. "How's anybody supposed to sleep when they hear something like that?"

"There's melatonin," Patrick offered, a half-assed attempt at a joke. It didn't land.

"I'm not going to bed until he gets back," you asserted, sitting down on the armchair.

"Yes, you are. Even if I have to tie you there." He tossed the quilt aside and stood up, taking your hand gently. "Come on. Bedtime."

"It is not--"

"Stop." His voice came out firm, in a tone you'd never heard from him before. You looked up at him attentively, and he stared down at you. "I know it's not ideal, and it's sure not relaxing, but you are not staying awake until after he gets home. You'll be cranky and you'll feel awful, and your dad will be in no place to deal with that. So, get to bed. I'm not asking."

You swallowed and looked down the hall before returning your eyes to him. "You promise we'll get him in the morning?" You asked in a rather small voice.

"Well, I'm not going to let him stay there forever, so take a guess. Come on." Patrick began to lead you down the hall. You followed without choice.

He opened the door to your room and flipped on the light. He tried to ignore the flickering coming from one of the lightbulbs but struggled. "Go lay down," he encouraged, patting your shoulder. "Let's get you tucked in."

Begrudgingly, you laid down. He reached over you and grabbed the duvet, draping it over you and folding it down slightly. He grabbed the stuffed rabbit off your bookshelf and settled it next to your head, as if he were unsure what to do with it.

"There," he muttered. "A friend for you."

"Bunny usually keeps me calm while I do homework," you explained. "Not while I sleep."

"Well, Bunny will keep you calm tonight, since I'm about six seconds away from dropping onto the floor, and I won't be of much help after that." He strolled over to the light switch but hesitated to flip it back down. "If you need something, I'll be on the couch."

"What I need is for my dad to come home."

"I'll get that to you tomorrow," he yawned, flipping the switch. "Goodnight, kid."

"Night," you muttered, watching as he closed the door gently. You turned on your side, staring at Bunny. He stared back with blank, plastic eyes. You sighed and pulled him into your chest. "I guess it's you and me tonight, pal."