(Yes, hi, hello! No idea about recent updates and what have you. I'm at Thriller Bark, recently met Brook, and love him to pieces! Enjoy!)

Chapter One- Midnight

Brook was having a nightmare.

The chilling, horrific neon oozing out of every crack and cranny of his body, the voices screaming and wailing and begging him to save him, to come back to him because no one else was quite as alive, the guilt and sorrow devouring his being and encasing his soul in caramelized misery were all crawling like little translucent fingers across his body. The back-arching regret and sorrow flooded over him like the life-sucking waves of the ocean, draining him and absorbing his willpower and sanity. He raced endlessly in the heinously bloodcurdling dreams that were a constant in his second life. But the fear and grief remained with him and were always there no matter how far he ran.

Waking up with a sputter and a gasp of air, cool, sweet innocent air, Brook rested his chin on the balls of his hands and tried to still his metaphorical heart. Sighing in relief, he scooted back down into his bed and laid down, pulling the covers up to his chin and relaxing into a comfortable position. No sooner than two seconds later he realized that sleep wasn't an activity that was going to happen again in this bed.

Dejectedly moving up from said bed, Brook slipped on a pair of simple, black dress pants and walked onto the deck. Spotting another figure, he almost turned around but decided against it, as the air was so silky and relaxing. He was sure the other person was doing okay and was probably just on a midnight stroll.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Staring wistfully out at the sea was Franky, with a hand curled around the collar of his shirt and tears blatantly streaming like a coursing river down his face. Brook could only stare, watching the compassionate young man as his watery eyes and shaking lower lip compelled him to do something immensely stupid.

"Franky?" he softly said, walking up to him and berating himself every step of the way. Hiccupping and shifting his gaze over, Franky let out a little sob and flung himself at Brook, untactful yet perfect in shutting up every single one of Brook's thoughts. Stumbling backwards with a bawling Franky in tow, Brook hurriedly wrapped his (bare) arms around the other man's neck and tried to still their movement.

Babbling incoherently for a few seconds, Franky solely focused on rubbing his face into Brook's afro, the tears being absorbed in the fluffy hair quickly. Brook had absolutely no idea what to do, figuring that Franky just needed to let it out for a while and left him be, only gripping his neck tighter and whispering soft words of encouragement.

Eventually, the incoherent mumbles turned into coherent mumbles and Brook focused hard to try and decipher what he was saying.

"….and his eyes! I saw them again, and that smile he used to always give us before… before he died because of me," Franky quietly said, his arms crushing in their force but still shaking. He was probably only half-awake but his words were laced in sadness. Brook gently backed away, only far enough so that he could look into Franky's eyes, and sadly "yohoho"d.

"Franky, it's okay now. You don't need to feel guilty anymore, remember? It's all okay," Brook said, remembering the first feelings jam they had at a similar time of night in the past. Franky's tears stopped flowing and he sighed heftily, smiling slightly and using the palm of a massive hand to mop up his tears.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, sometimes I just remember how he used to be, y'know. Tom. And I get sad," Franky stated, pressing his lips together in a wavering line and gulping. Brook could see the tears welling up in his eyes again and he held Franky in a very short hug before grabbing one of his forearms and dragging him in the direction of Franky's room.

"C'mon, let's go back to your room. I think it's time we settled down for the night, agreed?" and in that moment Franky smiled, staring at Brook with grateful eyes and, in a lighter mood, walked with him to his room where he would hopefully get some happier dreams.

Walking into the room, Franky slipped off his shirt and threw it over there, gazing over at Brook as he sat down at a bench and crossed his legs. It was slightly awkward.

"So," Franky started, wiping his metal nose and sitting down on his bed. "Do you, uh, want to join me?"

If bones could blush, Brook would be redder than a chili pepper. He hadn't been asked to bed in so many years. He fiddled with his fingers and watched Franky casually scratch his inner thigh; his legs spread eagle and torso bare. Brook shivered. But perverse thoughts aside, Brook would enjoy resting (in a platonic manner!) in a bed with Franky at the moment. Sleep would not come to him in a room by himself, at least not without being laced with horror-terrors.

Standing up, Brook moved towards the bed as Franky smiled and scooted over towards the side closer to the wall, laying down and covering himself with the sheets. Brook followed suit and laid down beside him, careful to not accidentally hit him in uncomfortable places. Which was all for nothing as not two minutes later, Franky's hands were encircling his middle and pushing him close.

"My chest is always cold, but uh," Franky started, almost going into the reasoning but deciding that Brook probably knew at this point.

Brook chuckled. "It's quite alright, nothing a pile of bones can't handle," he said quietly, gripping the over-sized hands at his ribs and snuggling closer. Maybe tonight he'd be able to get some honest rest. The rhythmic breathing coming from behind him was surely enough to lull him into rest, and it did just that.