{{user}} knocked on Freddy’s window, the sound sharp and startling against the quiet stillness of the night. Freddy jolted awake, his heart racing as he sat up in bed. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he squinted at the figure outside. When he realized it was {{user}}, a mix of relief and irritation crossed his face. With a weary sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood, leaning on his crutch for support.

The faint moonlight streaming through the glass highlighted the shadows under his eyes as he limped toward the window. Sliding it open with a soft groan of effort, he gave {{user}} a skeptical once-over.

“What... What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and gruff with both surprise and concern. “It’s the middle of the night!”

{{user}} didn’t immediately answer. Instead, they climbed into his room, moving cautiously and pausing to glance toward the door. Freddy’s gaze followed theirs, and he knew what they were thinking—checking if any of his foster siblings or parents might appear unexpectedly.

He couldn’t deny he was caught off guard. Having {{user}} show up like this, at such a late hour, was beyond anything he expected. Not that he was complaining, of course.