Chapter two.

There had been days that he didn't have the energy to lift his head from the pillow. If they had visited him on any one of those days, he wouldn't have known. But he had always hated the nights.

Dexter had requested that Dee Dee not come to see him, when he had started loosing teeth, but she had refused to comply. She had been the strongest, he thought- his father always had a joke and his mother always held him, when she could, but he could always see the fear behind their eyes. Dee Dee… she was so strong. She wasn't afraid of him, or what would happen to him- she would always come in being especially loud, jumping on his bed, showing him trophies she had won in dancing and cheerleading, transforming his world of steel grey and medical white into sunshine and annoying unicorn stories. She was the best, t telling stories; to anyone that asked, he was off hunting lions in Sudan or on a secret mission for the president. They were both too old for it, Dee Dee being seventeen and himself fifteen. But both of them knew that the truth was both boring and too serious for either taste.

She was an absent-minded girl, at best… but an amazing one. Dexter honestly believed that she had been the one to pull him through the worst of the chemo.

Dexter's eyes cracked open at the agitated beep of his cell phone alarm, and his hand snaked out from his curled form in the blankets to seize the device, pulling it close enough to see without his glasses. The front screen read 5:30 in digital hand. Dexter sighed, and dropped it onto the pillow beside his face, shutting his eyes again.

"It's time to get up, Dexter," a digitized female voice crooned in his ear.

"Yes, yes. A few more minutes, computer."

"You will be late for your first class, Dexter."

"I will not. Now shh." Dexter buried his face into his pillow with a frown.

"Precautionary physical electro-stimuli mode activated," she murmured pleasantly.

Dexter let out a yelp as a blue spark of electricity flicked his exposed ear, "Stop it!" Dexter snapped, seizing the phone with both hands as she retracted a tiny shock prod, "I should have never downloaded your personality from the mainframe!"

She only buzzed and vibrated in mechanical laughter.

Dexter sat up, sighing with a small smile, "Alright, computer, I'm up." He kicked his blankets away and his feet found the wood floor.

He supposed that he should be excited- he hadn't been to a proper lecture in nearly two years. He'd watched them online as much as he could, but getting back into his old study habits would prove interesting. A lot of things had happened in the world, during his absence, and it was up to him to catch up with it.

Speaking of change…

Dexter cautiously leaned away from the sink, squinting into the dark room outside he bright bathroom, considering as he brushed his teeth. Mandark, then? Where the games to start all over again, like when they had been children? But they weren't children, anymore… and why did Mandark look so sad?

Perhaps it was a trick. Perhaps he wasn't even sleeping, but watching, waiting for Dexter to leave, so that he could do… something. Dexter left his post at the sink, creeping back into the room to crouch beside Mandark's bed, waiting. If he was awake, he'd slip up somehow.

Mandark snored softly, murmuring something in his sleep before he rolled over, his sleeping face exposed to show at first a grumpy visage, before he relaxed and became calm once more. His dark, delicate brows furrowed for a few moments, and he rubbed his nose, his hand falling back to the pillow as his dreams continued, undisturbed.

"Touché," Dexter said lowly, "But I know your game, Mandark- don't think for a second that I don't. I won't let my guard down, not around you…"

Mandark blinked open his hazel-colored eyes, squinting. They stared at one another for a few moments. "Dexter?" He questioned slowly, his face reddening.

"Hey, how are you?" Dexter responded, still watching him cynically.

"I'm… I'm trying to sleep."

"How's that working out for you?"

"…Could you back up a little?"

"Sure, sure." Dexter inched back on his heels, his stare unblinking.

Mandark frowned and rolled over, throwing the blankets over his head, "Freak."

xXx