Wednesday. The day that Jim slept the heaviest—or, so they'd been told. But the heavy drone of his snores rolling throughout the hall only left them convinced, as the brunette and his blonde counterpart slowly tip-toed through the dorms. The liquid weapon, bottled and in one hand, and in the other…a…tape recorder?

"May 13th, 2013," Odd whispered into the cassette, with Ulrich by his side, using his phone as a flash light. "The operation is a go."

"Odd, what are you doing?"

"I thought I would document this. It could come in handy, you know."

Ulrich merely shook his head at his scrawny friend, cautiously furthering their trip down the hall. They'd only wandered a few inches from their own room before Odd's foot hit a weak spot in the wood and emitted a shrill, startling creak. For a few precious seconds they both stopped, with Ulrich fretfully peering into the darkness to make sure there were no figures looming about. Authoritive figures, that is.

"Quiet, will you?" He demanded; a harsh whisper.

Odd glanced up at him with a pout. "It wasn't my fault."

The tape still firmly secured in Odd's grasp, he continued to chatter into it as they resumed their journey. Not too long now before they reached their destination. But still, the nerves racked throughout them, and both of their hearts were hammering. Odd's especially—the boy had already landed himself enough detention for the year.

Another screech in the wood, followed by the distance rumbling of Jim Morales, dreaming of what they could only assume was peanuts and karate championships. The goal was, naturally, to make it to the finish line. But there were obstacles in the way, Jim being that obstacle, and the fear piling up inside both adolescent's bodies was causing things to move along quite slowly. Every thirty seconds, even less at times, they'd both stop and dance around each other, checking all sides and corners of the corridor. Anyone, anything, whether a rat or a fly, could blow their cover and not only ruin the plan, but also land them both in severe trouble with their parents.

"Who's with him tonight?" Odd whispered, glancing at the time on his phone's screen.

"I'm not sure—maybe Laura."

"I thought you said Aelita would be there!"

"I didn't say anything; I said hoped Aelita would be there."

Odd grumbled as he tucked his phone away in his pocket, relying on the blaring LED of Ulrich's iPhone. "I was under the impression she was in on this."

"Nope." So nonchalant. "I suggest you keep quiet, or else the whole thing is ruined."

Another soft and pitiful moan from the boy before they continued their trip. The end destination was, in reality, only three doors down. But they were so spaced apart that it was really at the very end of the hall, and it was proving to be such a drag.

"Right…" Ulrich started, narrowing his eyes towards the end of the hall. "Almost there…"

But then, there was a noise. A sudden bang on the floor above that startled them both and pinned them against walls, opposite sides from each other. Their meager attempts at blending in with the blackness that engulfed the hallway. And it didn't help that the light of Ulrich's phone was still on, with Odd angrily pointing at the device before he finally got the hint to shut it off. Silence ensued, and they stared at the roof above their heads, waiting for footsteps, for voices. Anything that signaled someone was on their way down to where they were currently located; anything that signaled it was time for them to retreat back to their own dorm.

Nothing. Odd rolled his eyes.

"This is ridiculous," he stated, resuming normal stance towards the last door on the left. No more tip-toeing or pathetic, James Bond style sneaking, just normal steps. They weren't really accomplishing anything, otherwise. With a curious and slightly disappointed glance—as if he'd been offended by Odd's comment, calling his stealth technique "ridiculous," Ulrich pulled himself away from the wall and immediately pranced after the small boy. They stopped just before the last door, door number four, and Odd tucked the recorder away into his pocket.

"Do you have it?" he mumbled. Ulrich proceeded to hold up the bottle, nodding at him from behind, but the lack of lighting prevented Odd from acknowledging either of those things, and he had assumed Ulrich was standing stupidly in silence. "Uh, I can't exactly see it."

"Oh, right. Yeah, it's right here."

"Alright," Odd nodded and feverishly rubbed his palms together, a smirk creeping its way onto his face. "Are you ready?"

"Let's do this."

He pressed himself against the door, ready to barge in, but paused—in the dead silence they both could hear the soft clacking of fingers against keys, occasionally muttering voices talking about subjects neither of them could ever even hope to understand. Ulrich grinned, and shortly after Odd returned the gesture. It only confirmed that the operation was at full speed at this point.

Show time.

In a split second Odd took the bottle from Ulrich, turned the doorknob and forced his body against the door, with Ulrich rolling inside. Startled and confused beyond words, Jeremie spun around in his chair with Laura—they were right, that was who had been helping him that evening—jumping up from the bed in shock.

"Get him!" Odd ordered, with his companion taking not a second to lunge at the over-exhausted blonde in the chair before him. With Jeremie far too baffled to register what was happening; Ulrich had already pinned him to the carpet. The blonde was no match against someone who was nearly a foot taller than him, along with the fact that he happened to train in Pencak Silat regularly.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Laura shrieked, glowering at down at the boys as Jeremie struggled beneath him.

"Stay back, Laura!" Odd cried. "It's for your own good!"

"Ulrich," Jeremie whined. "Ulrich—what the hell, get off of me!"

And soon after, Odd scampered over, removing the cap from the bottle he'd been holding. Ulrich glanced up at him and nodded, using all of his strength to trap Jeremie's forearms further against the ground.

"Now!" he screamed.

Odd sprinted to Jeremie's side and effectively forced his mouth open, with the blonde squirming furiously beneath him. There wasn't time to lose, because Jeremie kept trying to firmly press his own mouth shut. The next second his mouth had opened, to yelp some sort of retort, down the liquid went. Ulrich titled the bottle downwards, watching the blue substance pour out and splash against his mouth.

And oh, it was horrid. Laura stood back, petrified—shivering even, as she watched the vicious attack that'd happened so suddenly. She wanted to intervene—but God, those boys, they were tough. She didn't stand a chance.

"Gah!" Jeremie spat at the boys, whipping his head back and forth as he tried to refrain from taking in any of the bitter, minty liquid. "That is disgusting! What the hell!"

"We're doing this because we care, Jeremie," Ulrich tried to console as he helped pry the distraught boy's mouth open, hoping at least some of that fluid would get in. But the sloshing as the liquid guzzled out of the tiny bottle soon slowed down to a drizzle, before stopping completely. With a sigh, Odd tossed the empty plastic to the side. Jeremie lay on the floor, panting heavily with his face and neck coated in sour, cool fluid. Ulrich glanced at Odd as he leaned back on his knees, gently removing the force against Jeremie's arms.

"Empty," Odd confirmed. They both glanced over at Laura, who looked like she'd just seen a ghost, staring at them both with wide eyes glossed with terror. Perhaps they'd made more of a scene than necessary.

Jeremie remained too stunned to move. "What. The hell," he gasped; his breaths irregular and panicked, "Was that."

"Nyquil," Ulrich replied.

"To get you to sleep, you zombie."

Again, the blonde spat as the medicine continued to drip from his lips and meet with the bitter taste buds of his tongue. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, his heart pounding and thrashing inside of his chest, but all the while he wasn't surprised. He couldn't be. "That's the third time this week," he moaned.

"It's for your own good, Jeremie." Ulrich brought himself to stand from the ground, gazing over at Laura once more, who still hadn't moved an inch. He wondered if she'd ever come back to work with him again. Not sure how else to react, he flashed a harmless smile. It seemed to freak her out more. "See you, Laura!" he saluted, before walking out of the door.

Quickly after, Odd followed, waving goodbye at the boy who was still helplessly hyperventilating on his bedroom floor.

"Sweet dreams, Einstein."