Frank is sleepwalking at school in the middle of the night. Who to find him but Mr. Flatley? Set in series 6 episode 10.
"Frank? Frank?"
Frank woke with a start and spun around at the sound of his name being called. He frowned as he took in his surroundings - a loud panting in his ears (his own, he realised), sweat dripping down his face, more long, dark corridors (not the same as his dream though - school corridors), and a familiar voice ringing in his ears. What was he doing? How did he get here?
"Frank, you were sleepwalking."
The concerned voice, which Frank discovered to be that of Mr. Flatley, answered his silent question.
He looked himself up and down in shock as Mr. Flatley spoke and walked over to him, shining a light just below his face.
"You wandered into the school and tripped the alarm."
Next question answered.
He halted and looked at Frank suspiciously, "You were shouting; about missiles, and secret agents, and…all sorts," he finished, suddenly looking a bit scared of his long-time friend.
Frank began to panic. He looked down at his feet, a thousand thoughts running through his head, his breath quickening.
"That's not good," he said softly and turned back to Mr. Flatley.
Images of his nightmare returned to his head – smoke, lights, alarms, the deadly missile…his decision…her final salute…
Breathing rapidly, he moved to lean against the wall and sunk down to the floor, sprawling out in an awkward half-sitting half-lying position.
It was dark and cold, sobbing on the solid floor of the school corridors…and how pathetic Frank felt. He was supposed to be a bold and fearless leader – he even had a medal for it! Yet here he was, crying his eyes out next to Mr. Flatley, scared as a little boy seeking the comfort of his mother. Taking a deep breath, he sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes and felt the warm drip of tears running down his face.
"It's all right, Frank," Mr. Flatley comforted, looking close to tears himself, "We all get nightmares sometimes."
Yes, but sometimes the nightmares are real; and sometimes the consequences stick with us ever after.
Feeling a warm presence kneeling beside him, Frank wiped his face and looked up – directly into the glimmering eyes of his boss.
"In fact," Mr. Flatley continued, "Just the other night I dreamt that I was stuck in a room full of moles, and the only escape was one of those silly revolving doors. Oh, I was so scared! They were chasing me everywhere until I finally managed to Morris Dance my way out!" he finished dramatically.
Having calmed considerably, Frank mumbled a reply, "That sounds rather terrifying, Mr. F."
"Oh yes, it was," he agreed, "But what about you? Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah, thanks Mr. F," Frank thanked him as he pushed himself to his feet. "Guess I'll see you at school tomorrow then?"
"Yes, see you tomorrow, Frank," Mr. Flatley walked down the corridor, Frank following suit in the opposite direction.
"Sweet dreams Mr. F!" He called as he turned the corner back into the shadows.
"Sweet dreams Frank!" Mr. Flatley returned and they departed, going home to return to the blackness that was their nightmares.