You were startled awake by the sound of your phone ringing from your bedside table. You take a moment to process what that is, before it registers and you reach over to your bedside table. Still uncoordinated from sleep, your hand catches on the spiral cord, before you manage to actually grab the phone off of the base and bring it to your ear.

"Hello...?" You say, not hearing anything but a quiet sniffle. You're confused, until the caller speaks.

"H-hey. Can I come over?" Travis. It sounded like he was upset. You don't waste a moment before saying yes, hanging up, and going to the front door to wait. This wasn't unusual. At least three times a week since getting rescued from the wilderness, one of you would get a nightmare and call the other for help, which usually resulted in a sleepover. It was lucky that the Martinez's house was on the same street as yours. Your parents were fine with it as well, them having talked to his mother when it happened the first time. They'd understood that it was most likely a trauma bond, and let it happen. It only took a few minutes until his figure appeared, and he was at your doorstep. You didn't hesitate to pull him into a hug. He'd pulled back, looking a little calmer than when he first came into view.

"Hey." His voice was quiet, and slightly shaky.