MERRRRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPPPY FESTIVUS! :D

"The Trash Heap has spoken!"

Boober, dejected, slowly made his way back to the small hole which led back to Fraggle Rock. Usually he would have hurriedly made his way back, but the Trash Heap had also told him that the Gorgs had mysteriously been unseen and unheard of for about two days.

"I knew it. I knew it," he repeatedly mumbled, staring at the ground.

Narcolepsy. Stress-related narcolepsy. Somehow this non-fatal disorder had the power to completely break his spirits. When he had been facing certain death with Red after the cave-in on that one birthday of his, he hadn't felt like this. Maybe because after you're dead you don't have to worry about falling asleep in the middle of a sentence.

I just knew that something was really wrong with me.

He almost didn't even care about the shirts anymore and wished to dispose of them. He hated them, hated laundry. If not for those shirts, if not for the laundry, if not for Tosh getting herself all killed and whatnot, if not for his freakish tendency to enjoy boredom and thus enjoy laundry, if not for all those nasty fraggles who needed their clothes washed, if not for the need of clothes in the first place...wait, was there even a need for clothes? Was there even a need for anything?

Right now Boober didn't think so. Curled up on top of his small bed, he ironically waited for the sleep that now, wouldn't come. It wasn't nighttime but he didn't feel like doing much else and his sleep pattern was all wiggy anyway.

As he waited his mind drifted to Tosh. No one was ready to admit she had actually been killed but he didn't see any other explanation. In his normal state of mind, he would be mourning for her and swearing vengeance on her killer. Right now he was just angry at her for indirectly causing his narcolepsy.

And Red, who still had not been found. In his angry and depressed state, he tried to find fault with her, casually at first.

No fault tying her to this mess could come to his mind. (She was a pretty casual shirt-soiler, and didn't usually send in a load every single day.)

The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that she had in no way wronged him, had in no way caused, even indirectly, this nightmare.

Red needed help. She needed to be found. Boober realized that she deserved his help, had a right to it, even - much like he had determined the unknown bloodied fraggle did just the day before; Tosh, who he strangely felt no remorse for.

Through this depression, this sickness, Boober decided that he should help Gobo, whom he had convinced to wait for morning to leave and search for Red. Boober jumped to the floor and ran to the door, determined to catch Gobo before he headed out. Halfway across the room he stopped dead in his tracks and fell to the ground, asleep.

Boober lay frozen in a silent black void.

...

"...tom..."

...

"...ide...m...Side..."

...

"SIDEBOTTOM!" Boober yelled, finally gaining control over his mouth and bolting up. He felt as if someone was clamping a hand over his face, trying to restrain him and keep him from screaming. It was more terrifying than anything even he could have imagined and all he could do was yell for Sidebottom, over and over. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that Sidebottom was to blame.

He was asleep, dreaming, but Sidebottom wasn't there.

Sidebottom...did you do this to me?

Did you force me to sleep? !

Trap me in a dream? !

Boober stopped yelling and shut his eyes tightly, trying to focus. Maybe if he could find a way to fight back, he could regain consciousness. Shove Sidebottom back down like he had learned to do so long ago. Sidebottom had always been strong. Strong and loud. It had taken a good bit of practice to learn how to control him.

So what if he's strong...I'm smarter...I'm in charge...I'm Boober-not him!

Boober first focused on the last image he saw before falling asleep. He had been running for the door. Now, in his mind, he pictured his room. He was sprawled on the ground facing the door, asleep, and completely peaceful.

That can't be right...

He pictured himself now twitching and mumbling, whimpering and making sudden, jerking movements. This was most likely what he was doing at the moment.

Suddenly, he stood up. Placed his hat gently on his head. And walked out the door.

That's definitely not right.

Boober tried to imagine himself lying on the ground again, but couldn't control the pictures in his head. So he stopped trying. Helpless, he sat there and thought.

He was terrified of Sidebottom. But strangely, he did not feel threatened by him. Sidebottom had been trying to warn him of something the day before, but what?

Maybe while he slept...he was dangerous. Maybe Sidebottom hadn't actually caused this. Obviously, Sidebottom knew what was going on. Why not tell him?

If Sidebottom had wanted to save him, he could have just told him outright. Boober could easily have left Fraggle Rock and lived a solitary life out in the great unknown past the Gorg's garden...well, easily if he was really a dangerous killer. He had heard that if a fraggle was cut off from other fraggles for too long, insanity could set in...

I'm already insane, though, he scoffed inside his head.

And the scene Sidebottom had forced upon him still haunted Boober.

That was definitely not Sidebottom screaming. Or laughing. Or touching him.

Boober couldn't quite remember who had been screaming and laughing, but he thought it might be Tosh.

The anger and depression stemming from his diagnosis having lessened, thinking of Tosh brought tears to Boober's eyes. He was infinitely sorry for what he had thought of her earlier and desperately wished to find her.

Boober slumped over sideways. He didn't know what to think or do. Knowing the cause of all these troubles wouldn't change a single thing. Thinking about it made his head spin. And remembering Tosh made his heart sting.

So there he lay. Waiting for something to wake him up in the real world.

Trapped in his dreams.