It wasn't uncommon for Clay to walk the Fortrex at night, his echoing footsteps something the other knights had long gotten used to by now as he paced each hall, tense and uptight as ever. If the others got up to visit the kitchen or the bathroom at some point in the night, they'd pass him, say hi, and go on. Clay walking through the night was as common as Jestro attacking some poor village.
So when Lance went to get a glass of water one night at two AM and he didn't see or hear Clay, not even he could keep from feeling a bit worried. Abandoning his water quest, just for now, Lance decided to see if he could find out where his teammate had disappeared to.
The halls were eerily quiet aside from the hum of electronics, and Lance felt a bit on edge, shifting in his silk pajamas and glancing about every which way, looking for any unexpected movement in the shadows cast by the low light.
The sound of footsteps behind him made him freeze- those weren't the heavy, steady steps of Clay. Weaponless, still wearing his face mask, and entirely alone, Lance felt as though this was it, and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to turn around, too afraid to run.
"This is how I die."
And-
Oh. The familiar feeling pressed against his hand, putting all his anxiety to rest.
"Hamletta!" With a heavy sigh, Lance knelt to greet his faithful companion, rubbing the pig's head. "You scared me, sweetheart!" Hamletta snorted, nuzzling his hand. "Hey, have you seen Clay? Mr. Uptight-Knight isn't walking the halls, it's got me- I mean, everyone else worried."
Hamletta didn't respond, being that she was a pig, but Lance appreciated her non-attempt. "Well, that's alright. You can help me find him." The knight stood again, turning back to face down the hall in front of him, braver with the company. With his trusty girl by his side, Lance could definitely make it through his quest.
What time was it now? It'd been some⦠hours, probably? The drowsiness weighed heavy on his eyes, on his steps, and on his patience. Even Hamletta seemed to be getting tired of the search, her hooves dragging as she plodded after him.
"Clay, where are you?" Lance called, not for the first time. "Just come out already."
His steps' echoes suddenly halted as Hamletta came to a sudden stop in front of a door- the Fortrex's small library. She snuffled at the door, before sitting down, and refusing to follow further.
Lance noticed only after having walked a bit further, quickly turning to see what had caught his pig's attention.
"What? Something in there?" Lance asked, and Hamletta bumped his hand with her snout. Lance glanced between her and the door, before shrugging and pressing the "open" button on the door's keypad.
Inside the library was Clay, slouched over on the table, face pressed to a book, completely asleep.
"Oh. There he is." Lance whispered, "Thanks, sweetheart, good find."
Lance took quiet, careful steps, cautious not to trip on any books, until he was standing next to the other. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation getting to him, but he could've sworn this was the most relaxed he'd ever seen Clay. No one ever caught him sleeping- ever, but now Lance had, and something in him softened. The relaxed look was nice on Clay's face, the hard worry lines and usually lowered eyebrows gentle without the stress to hold them in place. Lance almost didn't want to wake him up, didn't want to break the serene scene in front of him, so he stood there for a moment, appreciating it. Without any of the other knights around, without Clay being awake, Lance allowed himself to stare, to smile at the leader.
With only Hamletta as a witness, Lance stood, watching with eyes filled with warmth and fondness.
The moment was only broken by the creeping sense of embarrassment that had finally caught up to him. Clearing his throat, Lance gently shook Clay's shoulder.
"Hey, wake up. You fell asleep. In the library. Come on, you're drooling on the books." Hamletta cast Lance a glance filled with far too much knowing for a pig. He glared back, only looking away when Clay stirred, lifting his head and rubbing his eyes. He yawned, before shaking himself and looking around, meeting Lance's eyes.
"Lance? What are you doing here?" He sounded tired, more tired than Lance felt.
"You passed out."
"Oh." Clay looked down at the book he was reading, squinting in the dark at the pages. "Oh, I guess I did. That's not good. Thanks for waking me up, I should-"
"How long has it been since you slept?" Lance didn't know why he bothered asking, he knew it'd been days.
"I'm fine, it doesn't matter." Clay stood, stretching his arms above his head. "One of us has to be alert at all times."
"That's not healthy, Clay. You need to sleep." Lance crossed his arms, frowning.
Clay rolled his eyes. "And why do you care? I'm not even tired."
"Clearly you are." He shook his head. "And I care because you're the leader- you need to take care of yourself. It worries me- us how you refuse to sleep properly."
"You were worried?" Clay's expression turned soft, fondly curious.
"That's what you took from that?" The other stomped indignantly, turning towards the door, his pig following behind him. "And so what if I was? It's reasonable to worry when your safety rests in the hands of someone who doesn't even bother to take care of themself." The door opened, and he stepped through, turning back for one moment. "Get some rest, Clay. You deserve it." And the door closed, leaving Clay alone, and Lance worries he'd said too much.
