The night was still. Two eyes looked out from its hiding place.

It was the perfect time for a hunt.

The Bánaithe Serpent floated up from behind the rocks and slowly slid forward. The Octopod stood there, the orange paint dulled by the darkness. But the Serpent could see it all. And it would never stop, never stop until it found it's prey again, until it finished what it started.

Swimming and slithering ever so quietly, it looked through the windows, peering in. It finally stopped when it saw its prize. On a bed, under a blue blanket, was the white head of the polar bear.

It curled itself up, ready to pounce.

Barnacles was woken up to a crash, and water immediately filled his lungs. He could see, in the dim darkness, a gaping mouth and yellow, reflecting eyes. It grabbed him-

And he sat up in bed, panting horribly. He was surprised when air entered his lungs. His chest hurt from the overexertion, but he couldn't stop. He scanned the room, looking for those glowing eyes. It was only after a few moments that he realized the Bánaithe Serpents' eyes would only glow if there was a light reflecting off of them. That should have calmed him down, made him convinced that it was a dream. But he just stilled, muscles taut, as he looked outside the window.

The window in his bedroom was massive, covering the entire side of the room and most of the ceiling. Before, he had loved it. Enjoyed seeing the fish and breathtaking views every morning when he woke up, or when he would practice his accordion.

But now it was pitch black. Before, at night, it would not bother him; but that was before. Now all he knew was that something could be out there. All anyone needed to do was to break the glass, have a strong enough force.

Kwazii told him that the Serpent was dead, that he had checked the body days later. That should make him feel at ease, but it didn't. What if there was another one?

He was a target here.

He was still tense, trying to stay as quiet as possible so nothing could notice him. As discreetly as he could, he slowly stood up, took his blanket and pillow, and left the room. He immediately felt better in the hallway, where there were no windows. He could even imagine he wasn't under the ocean, that he was on land somewhere. He started to slowly but surely calm down more, but shame came instead as he wandered the halls, blanket and pillow in paw.

None of the others could see him like this. This was way too embarrassing. But even though he felt that way, he couldn't bring himself to go back to his room. There was no way he was doing that, no way at all.

So he found a secluded section of hallway, after several minutes of walking around different corridors, and laid the blanket on the ground. This was a good enough place as any; it was furthest from anyone else's room. He would just have to wake up earlier to make sure he was out of there before anyone else saw him. So he made arrangements, using the blanket as a mattress and put the pillow on top. There was just enough blanket for him to have it under and over him, like he was the center of a pita sandwich. He set the octocompass to 4am, an hour before everyone was to wake up and, trying to get as comfortable as possible, attempted to sleep.

He was able to get a bit of sleep, but unfortunately, not enough. He kept waking up for multiple reasons. The uncomfortableness, or sometimes he would hear a sound and thought it was a predator or another Octonaut. Either way, that night was dismal, but he didn't say anything when he got up the next morning and went about the day like normal.

At least, what was normal for him, now. He was still recovering from his wounds, so he was taking it easy. Having check ups with Peso, talking to the others, reading in the library. That ended up in his favor, because he could snag a nap here and there if he was tired enough; and with his recovering situation, no one asked any questions or were the wiser.

It baffled him just how much he wanted this to be all kept a secret from the other Octonauts. Sure, it was embarrassing; but he thought that he would have trusted them enough by this point to at least be able to bring it up. If not everyone, then at least to the medic.

But he could feel it. It was like a growing knowledge, like he knew all along why he couldn't trust them, share this with them; but among that shroud, it was still hidden. The fear was there, though. The fear that left him gasping.

This wasn't Captain-worthy protocol. He wasn't in charge now, but how would he possibly be ok enough to do it if he kept being terrified like this? He wouldn't be able to lead at this point.

What if the others didn't accept him anymore?

He had to snort at that. Of course they would still accept him. What, after everything, they would just look down on him and leave him?

He remembered how Tweak had done so to Kwazii, when he wasn't doing the proper protocols with the Gups.

He laughed to himself uncomfortably. But that was just one time, right? They couldn't possibly be like that, not all the Octonauts?

Right?