(A little change to the chapter. It packed more punch this way.)

Ch.10(Filler Chapter)

Whitney and Frederick sat on two small logs across from each other eating their breakfast of speared deer meat and ginger tea. While the day around the two was bright, sunny, and serene, the atmosphere between them was heavy and awkward. All throughout their meal, Whitney would take a few concerned glances at the teenage boy.

He looked terrible.

His eyes were bleary and red, sporting huge bruised bags under them, giving him the appearance of an elderly racoon. His blond hair was now starting to get long and shaggy; The hay colored locks grew into a spiky, matted mess that almost reached his shoulders and hung in his eyes, nearly covering his face. Frederick chomped his food with all the zeal of a statue and seemed almost lost in his own world. His dull green eyes stared off into the under brush, focused on somewhere seemingly far away from here.

(Oh no... I have to say something.)

After a month of living together, Frederick began to have horrible nightmares that usually had him whimpering and fitful tossing and turning; Whitney only knew about them because of his sharp hearing. He didn't think too much of it at first, since the nightmares only lasted about 5 minutes and he seemed fine during the day. But in the last few weeks, Frederick started showing signs of sleep deprivation; During the day, his movements were sluggish, he was constantly yawning, and he would space out randomly. Whitney tried to ask him about it but Frederick told him he was fine.

But last night further cemented his worries.

Whitney was awaken from his slumber by a loud scream. He jumped onto his hands and tips of his toes with his back arched and his claws piercing the soil, scanning his surroundings. He looked over to the tree house and saw the canvas rustling as the teen inside flailed around violently; His shrieks reaching a feverish fear filled pitch that made his skin break out in goosebumps. In the span of 3 seconds, Whitney rushed over and climbed up the tree to Frederick's side.

"Hey! Frederick, wake up! You're ok! Wake up!" Whitney yelled out, shaking the boy's shoulder. Frederick's eyes flew open when he felt someone shaking him. With lightning fast precision, he swung out his fist to the offender like a cannon. Whitney gasped as he felt the hit land in a very sensitive area. The night ended with Whitney hobbling down to the ground, holding his crotch and quietly screaming at every wrong move.

Now here they were eating awkwardly, both parties at a complete loss on how to start a conversation in a non-embarrassing way. Whitney decided to make the first move.

"Did you have any trouble going back to sleep?" Frederick snapped his attention to him, seemingly just remembering where he was. His pale face went red as he bowed his head and fiddled with his plate. "I'm really sorry, Whitney. I didn't mean to hit you like that... I just felt someone shaking me and I didn't know it was you and-" His words rushed out like a verbal river, his face getting redder and redder. Whitney held up his hands and said, "Hey, Hey. Its ok. It was a really dumb idea to wake you up like that when you were obviously freaked out enough already. But... Are you really ok? You've been having these nightmares for about a month now... And you don't look like you've been sleeping well lately."

Frederick smiled wearily and scratched the back of his head. "Its nothing really. I'm just not used to sleeping out in the woods yet, that's all." Whitney's grey eyes softened as he stood up.

"Frederick, It might help to-" Whitney paused as Frederick quickly gathered their makeshift plates, "No, no. Everything's fine. It's so silly. I don't even remember what my dream was. You just relax and I'll just wash our dishes before we sent out. Ok? Good! See ya."

And then he quickly walked toward the river and then speed walked further down stream, leaving Whitney standing by himself with the smoky remnants of the fire. He frowned as he rubbed his temples. (This is bad... Well, I can't force him to talk if he doesn't want to, but... I'll just have to wait. He'll talk when he's ready.)

Then rest of day went normally. Frederick seemed to be in a better mood but Whitney could still tell that the lack of sleep was taking its toll on him. Throughout the day, he would catch Frederick staring out listlessly at nothing and during the late afternoon while they were crouched behind a bush awaiting for their next meal to approach, Frederick took a cat nap right beside him. When night came, Frederick spoke animatedly about his new projects for traps and improvements to his tree house. Whitney yawned as he got up and put out the fire. "I'm going to turn in." Whitney said. When he gazed at Frederick's eyes, he could have sworn he saw a flint of fear pass through those tired green eyes. But Frederick just smiled and replied, "Ok. Guess I'll turn in too. Good night, Whitney." While it may have been dark, Whitney could see the teen fidgeting uneasily.

"Night, Frederick."

Sometime in the night, Whitney's ears twitched at an odd sound. He opened his eyes and lifted his head up to look for the source. Now that he was more awake, it sounded like someone was crying. Whitney turned his gaze to the tree and sure enough his sharp nose caught the smell of salty water coming from the tree house. He got up and made his way towards the tree. When he stood under it, he called out, "Frederick. Are you ok?"

A series of sniffles was the only answer he got.

"Hey, talk to me. Are you hurt? Should I come up?"

"N-n-no. I'm fine." Frederick replied in a shaky stutter.

"Did you have another nightmare? Because it might make you feel better if you talked about it."

"It's nothing. I'm ok."

"Frederick, its not nothing and you're obviously not ok. Just tell me whats wrong."

"Nothings wrong... Please, just-"

"Stop lying. Frederick, those nightmares aren't going to go away if you ignore them. I just need you to tell me whats going on so I can help you.

"I DON'T KNOW, ALRIGHT!"

Whitney was silent for a minute. "What do you mean?"

"I... keep dreaming about the hands... All around me... Scratching, pulling and yanking me around... like they're trying to pull me apart. But last night... It felt like they were pulling me somewhere... and every time I struggle, they just squeeze tighter and pull harder... I don't know why I'm crying about this... It's just some stupid shitty dream..."

Whitney frowned. "Hey, Its not stupid. Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm waking you up at ungodly hours with my bullshit... I'm sorry... I'll try to get it under control."

Whitney winced as his heart twisted painfully. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. You're just having nightmares and that's normal, especially after what you've been through."

There is quiet for a moment.

"...You're not upset? But I woke you up and-"

"Now why would I be... Look, just let me come up."

"... Ok."

Whitney climbed into the tree house. When he got to the platform, he saw Frederick curled beneath the slanted canvas tent. A thin blanket was wrapped around him, concealing the majority of his body except the hair and tips of his toes; The sight reminded Whitney of a butterfly beginning to crawl out of its cocoon. He crawled over to the blonde and sat in front of him. His hand brushed against Frederick's skin, which laid near the edge of the platform. "Have you've been just waking up at night and not sleeping?"

"Sometimes... If I'm too wound up." Frederick's reply was muffled by the sheet.

"Do you want some tea? It'll help you relax."

Frederick shook his head, violently; His red sinewy face peeked out from the blanket.

"N-No! Please!... I don't want to sleep... Not now... I... If I go back in... to those hands...I-" His words came out in in quick stutterings, accompanied by rapid breaths; As if his words ran several miles to get to his mouth.

"Hey, Hey. Its ok. You don't have to go back to sleep. I'm not gonna force you." Whitney whispered, scooting closer to the teen.

Frederick let out a sigh of ease as he mumbled the names of herbs and their effects under his breath. Whitney sat back and ran his hands through his hair. (What do I do? I've never dealt with anything like this. I mean I've seen how the nurses back at the monastery handle trauma patients but he won't even let me touch him. And I've never been the type of person to give comfort. I mean I try but most people freak out because of my curse. Which probably explains why they try to keep me out of the trauma ward.) Whitney squeezed the bridge of his nose and looked down.

(I'm really in over my head.)

"Whitney?"

The man looked up to the owner of the small voice, slightly startled. The teen's red hued muscles dulled in comparison to his green eyes; An otherworldly glow pulsed from within the vibrant orbs that stared right at him. The big and inquiring eyes flickered with childlike curiosity.

"Uh, yes?" Whitney replied.

There was a short pause as Frederick's eyes broke his gaze.

"Do you... know any songs?"

Whitney let out a small nervous breathy chuckle he didn't realize he had been holding, "I'm a really bad singer. But I can... wait here." Whitney climbed down the tree and Frederick watched as he went over to his pack and pulled out something long. When he climbed back up, he could see that Whitney held a crudely carved wooden flute.

"You can play the flute? I though your parents were all about "no frivolous pass times."

"They are. They pushed us pretty hard to be the best at everything including music. So they made us practice scales and classical pieces daily. They thought music was a good way to enforce discipline and hone our skills in precision. Needless to say, I hated having to play perfect renditions of musical pieces I didn't even like and thus hated music in general. Then when I was chased out of the castle, I found myself actually yearning to play something so I made this flute in my spare time in the monastery. The moment I played a few notes, I actually felt better about myself for the first time in months. I can't quite explain it but when I have my down days, I just play. So I hope it can help." Frederick's eyes soften with sympathy as he loosed his hold on his body.

"Do you want something specific?" Whitney asked, getting his fingers ready.

"No... I'm fine with anything." Frederick replied.

Whitney put the flute to his lips and blew out a chorus of soft notes. The deep lone harmonies flowed out into the air and swirled around Frederick like a lyrical breeze. The soft wispy notes flowed into his ears and seemed to flow into every pore of his being; The melody settling over his tense muscles and eased them into a lax state. Frederick let out a small yawn as his eyes began to droop and his heartbeat slowed.

Whitney finished up the piece with a cadence of light notes. "How was it... Frederick?"

The teen in question answered with a loud snore as his head fell forward and his body followed. Whitney caught the boy before he fell to the hard wooden floor. He froze as he waited for Frederick to wake up at his touch but the boy did not stir. Whitney breathed a sigh of relief as he gently placed his head down and pulled the small sheet over him.

(Whew, thank God that's over... Poor kid must be exhausted.)

He observed the teen's sleeping body for a few moments, waiting to see any tell tale signs of unrest. Frederick's red face remained the picture of peace as he slept; The sight bringing a relived smile to Whitney's face. The man was about to climb down when he took one last look at the resting rogue prince. (I should... Probably stay. Just in case) So the man propped his back against the trunk of the tree and drifted off to the sound of the soft babbling of the stream and the teen's snoring.

A little short moment that I wanted to write while I work out the next chapter of the main story. As you can tell, I really wanted to write out a chapter with some angst sprinkled with a hint of fluffy and comfort between Frederick and Whitney. I needed a free chapter where I could stretch my legs creatively before getting back to my main story. Also I've been wondering how you guys feel about the friendship between Frederick and Whitney. While the canon story is so far just dipping its toes into it, my mind is just firing with all the possible interactions. When it comes to interactions outside of their families, both Whitney and Frederick have little to no other relations outside of their families members thus making their social growth a little stunted; As Frederick exhibits with his nervous and withdrawn behavior and Whitney's blunt way of communication and his obliviousness to certain social ques. So for me, it only seemed natural for these two socially challenged dudes to meet and start a bomb friendship. But what are you thoughts? Comment below your thoughts on this matter and maybe even make some predictions on who will be friends with Frederick, maybe other members of the CpC? This week's chapter showed that is definitely possible.

Good Night!