Written for Shipping Week
Prompt: tread
Pairing: Siffrin/Isabeau

Tread lightly if you have to get up in the middle of the night. That's one of the first things you learned after meeting your friends and joining their adventure. Because if you make even the slightest sound and wake Odile when she's enjoying her beauty sleep, there will be hell to pay.

For now, all is well. With your belly full of macaroni and cheese, you drift off to sleep with Isabeau sharing the other half of the bed. It isn't until later that night when he whispers your name, his voice penetrating the depths of your dreamless slumber.

"Hey... Hey, Sif. Siffrin. Sifarooni."

"Hrm?" You roll over, pale strands of hair covering a portion of your face. You're just waking up when you hear a low rumble.

"Hey, do you mind if I eat this here?" Isabeau pulls out a big cheeseburger and takes a bite, ketchup squirting down the front of his shirt and dripping onto the sheets.

Okay, the macaroni and cheese is one thing. But where did he get a cheeseburger? What exactly did you do that caused the events of this loop to shift so dramatically?

Feeling rather perplexed, you watch him take another bite.

"Hey, Sif, you know what would go good with this? Some choccy milk. C-could you get me a glass of choccy milk, please?"

He knows you value your sleep, so this ... what did he call it? Choccy milk? This choccy milk must be really important. It's the least you can do after he was nice enough to make all that macaroni and cheese for dinner.

With a weary sigh, you sit up in bed and slide your feet over the edge of the mattress. A quick glance in Odlie's direction tells you that she's still asleep. Getting past her should be easy enough. So long as you don't -

"Whumpf!"

Your breath bursts from your chest in a sudden puff of air. It isn't the most dignified sound, but at least you didn't make your classic Siffrin cat noise. Only now your hip is aching from where it made contact with the foot of the adjacent bed. Stars, that hurt! Why do you always have to be so blinding stupid and clumsy?

Groaning, you lean forward with one arm around your waist. You wince, sucking in a deep breath. The pain is radiating outwards towards your navel. How hard did you hit the corner of the bed anyway? That was so stupid. You should have known better than to go running off in the dark like an idiot.

"Hmm?" Bonnie sits up in bed, yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes.

Oh no, not Bonnie. It's not as bad as Odile, but you know that if Bonnie is awake, they're likely to cause a lot of noise and wake everyone in the room. Quietly, you take a step forward, moving towards the door on your right. You've almost made it when Bonnie lets out a shout.

"Monster!"

You are then assaulted by a flying pillow launched in your general direction.

"A monster?! Where is it? Lemme at it!" Isabeau screams in the dark.

There's only a sliver of moonlight spilling across the floor. Just barely enough for you to see, as you drop to the ground on your hands and knees to avoid a second airborne missile.

The scene around you quickly dissolves into chaos, pillows soaring through the air like a barrage of rotten fruit upon the helpless actor. You could have sworn you saw a flying half-eaten cheeseburger, but you can't be sure.

"Kill it! Kill it!" Bonnie calls out, leaping from the bed and swinging their pillow. They run at you with incredible speed, swatting you with their makeshift weapon.

Whack! Whump!

"Bonnie!" Instinctively you cover your face with your hands, lowering your head in hopes of shielding yourself from the blows. "Stop, it's me! I'm not a monster!"

By now Mirabelle has woken up and is panicking as usual. The light returns to the room, and everyone freezes in horror, seeing that Odile has risen and has one hand on the chain attached to the bedside lamp. Feathers are scattered across the floor, and there you sit, in the middle of it all, not really knowing what to say at a time like this.

"What the hell are you little bastards doing up at this hour?" Odile snarls, her aura radiating a deadly energy.

Thinking fast, Bonnie looks at the pillow in their hands then back at Odile. "Pillow fight!" They chuck their pillow at the researcher, hitting her in the face and nearly sending her glasses across the room.

Fueled by adrenaline and greasy burgers, Isabeau shouts, "Pillow fight!"

Feathers fly once more, and as you're sitting there in your nightshirt on the hardwood floor, watching the scene unfold in utter disbelief, you start thinking that it might be fun to join them. Not that your aim or depth perception is what it used to be since losing your eye, but if you're going to die anyway, then you might as well enjoy yourself before falling into another one of the King's tears.