I woke to someone shaking my arm.
"Alvy, wake up." It was Sly.
I slowly opened my eyes with a quiet yawn, squinting up at him. "That time already?"
I stared up at his face for a while. His face was always sad. The way his face seemed to stretch down, the dark lines underneath his eyes. The way his frown lines showed around his mouth and the way his mouth curved into a perfect half circle that faced down. I knew why he was like this; why he seemed so scared and so cold. Many people who met him always seemed to move away from him. They didn't know what Sly was _really_ like because they hadn't met him before it all.
Sly was the kind of person who kept secrets and emotions from you like a pro. Well, he _was_ a pro. He's the kind of person who you could travel with and never say one word to each other, only to find that secretly he had a crush on you. He was very good at what he did; thus the name 'Sly'.
I never knew why Sly's name was Sly. As far as I know, that was only a nickname. I had always wondered what Sly's _real_ name was.
Mystery, Fountain, and I had real names. Sly I don't believe did. For some reason, I could see him as a Steven, as strange as a thought it was.
I nodded towards Sly and got up, careful to not disturb Fountain. "Where's Mystery?" I whispered.
"He decided that he was going to stay up," Sly said, taking my spot in the bed.
"Alright. Sleep tight," I whispered back, leaving the room after closing the door.
I walked down the hallway to find Mystery leaning against the wall.
His head turned as he saw me, his lips curving in a smile. "I thought you'd never wake up."
"Did I sleep later?" I asked, tilting my head.
Mystery nodded. "You did."
"Odd," I stuck my lips out as I thought.
Mystery quietly laughed with a shrug. "I'll let it slip by," He said, glancing at me.
I smiled and crossed my arms. "Why, thank you," I said, placing my hand on my forehead palm up as I played over dramatic with my words.
It only made Mystery laugh more.
Then, together, we heard someone banging on the entrance to our home.
We both became deathly silent. You couldn't even hear our breath, nor Sly's breathing that was unusually loud most times. It was just silence.
I looked at Mystery, and Mystery looked at me, still silent.
Mystery then reached for his pistols that were strapped on his upper legs.
I reached for mine, but found that they weren't in my jacket, on my legs, or anything. I sighed, but silently.
Sly had made a rule quite some time ago that it would be best if we didn't wear our weapons on us when we went to bed. He said that we might hurt ourselves, and he was right. One night, Mystery wore his knife to bed, by mistake, and ended up with a cut up arm in the morning.
Mystery glanced at me, already guessing my problem, then handed me his extra gun.
I nodded thankfully, then moved my eyes back to the entrance.
Mystery slowly stepped forward, his...