The boy jolted awake from a violent shift in the mattress. He grunted, not thinking much of it and tried to turn over. Something stopped him. With a groan, he cracked open his eyes.

"Cunningham?"

The one in question, Randy Cunningham, was best friends with Howard Weinerman- the boy who had woken up. Now, Randy was not the most normal kid. His grades were average (if not leaning towards the failing side), he was into the current games and bands, and like any teenage boy, loved junk food. But one thing made him… not normal. Special.

Randy was the Ninja of Norrisville. Such a title meant certain duties, like fighting monsterized versions of his classmates that were made by an evil sorcerer and fighting robots that were made by the wealthiest man in town. Randy was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy and his magical Ninja suit protected him so Howard didn't worry about him too much.

Except for nights like these.

Howard was never in the spotlight like his friend was, though their school did not know who the Ninja was under the mask, it used to make him jealous. Howard was working on it and standing on the sidelines and occasionally saving his friend's cheese was A-Okay nowadays. Watching Randy skillfully dispatch robots while making snarky comments had become the norm. Foiling plan after evil plan… Randy was always so nonchalant about it.

Of course he would rather the school not be in danger all the time, but it was exciting. The opponents were often so easy that it was a joke. Only, Howard had just been recently realizing how much the responsibility was actually effecting his friend.

It started with the days Randy came to school with dark circles under his eyes. Then the jumpiness at every sudden noise. At its worst, Randy would decline a late night video gaming binge. A long time passed before Howard learned what 'it' was.

His best friend was having terrible nightmares. He was scared of failure. Sometimes he sleepwalked. That's about all Randy would tell Howard.

Tonight was the first night Howard saw this for himself. Tonight was just one of those nights where they hung out and stayed over at one or the other's house.

Randy was in ninja mode (he keeps the mask near him at all times, even when sleeping) and along with the suit, he had also pulled out the ninja sword. He stood with one leg on either side of Howard, as if protecting him. The sword, held in a defensive position, rose and fell fractionally with its bearers erratic, shallow breaths.

Howard couldn't help but be concerned. Randy was in a safe place and yet couldn't be safe in his own mind. The Ninja's head whipped back and forth, eyes closed in uneasy slumber.

"Cunningham!" The boy said, more urgently this time. He was going to say even more when he remembered something. Wasn't it bad to wake sleepwalkers? If so, isn't it even worse to startle ones with pointy weapons? The best thing to do would be to calm him down without waking him, but how to go about it?

The more he thought about it, the more he figured soothing words wouldn't do the trick. Cunningham had always responded more to physical contact than words. For example, he never understood what the stupid Nomicon was trying to tell him until after he got punched in the face. Not to mention Howard wasn't good with comforting words. Sarcasm, puns, and fart jokes were more up his alley.

If only Cunningham would put his sword away…

Howard began to carefully scooch out from under his friend in hopes of removing the mask or getting him to drop the sword (with extreme caution). His movement was rewarded with the weapon's tip just a little too close to his chin. Randy then raised the sword and continued to search for imaginary enemies.

What the juice man? You may be trying to protect me in your own mind, but that was really uncalled for.

Howard huffed, indignant. Time for plan B. If he couldn't get up there, Randy would just have to come down here.

Sliding his hands up the back of Randy's calves, Howard applied pressure on the weak spot behind the knees, causing Randy to lose balance. His arm not holding the sword flailed wildly and he landed heavily in Howard's lap.

The pudgy boy frowned; he had hoped that Cunningham would drop the sword. No such luck. Howard pulled himself up so that his nose was level with his friend's chin. Randy's jaw was clenched and even in the dim moonlight he could see Randy's wet eyelashes. It made him all the more determined to end Randy's nightmare.

Randy, of course, was not helping at all. He kept struggling to stand up again, so Howard restrained him by grabbing his waist. The effect was almost immediate. The Ninja's frail form went limp as thumbs rubbed small circles into the V of his hips, eliciting a small whimper.

Howard felt a sliver of satisfaction. Now he knew Cunningham's weakness… then his heart beat a little faster at the thought pulling that trick when his friend was actually awake. He hastily pushed those thoughts aside.

Focus, Weinerman.

One hand persuaded the sword from his grasp while the other gently took the mask off. A flash of light and the Ninja was gone.

Howard carefully lowered his best friend to the mattress, glad no one had inexplicably walked in on him totally feeling up the Norrisville Ninja. His cheeks burned with the memory. Then he rationalized it was just to distract Randy from his nightmare, whatever was happening in it.

He lied down, listening closely to confirm Randy's breathing was back to normal. It was.

The rest of the night was uneventful, though in their sleep the two boys had moved closer, one wrapping his arm around the other.

Shhhh stop judging me. Yes I know I'm multishiper trash