You hated silence. You just couldn't stand it since childhood, trying to fill the space with sounds all the time. When you were little, you couldn't sleep without your mom's bedtime lullaby. But only when you grew up and moved out of your parents' house you experienced the delights of insomnia. For a few nights you agonized, trying to fall asleep and not listen to every rustle, but then you realized that you had to do something urgently. So you bought headphones. And it became your best purchase that you never parted with again, falling asleep to the pounding of the rain, or to other calm melodies.

You took them with you and into the army, pulling them out of your bedside table every night and falling asleep peacefully. But one day they broke. The wire was bent, bare, and even though you tried to fix it with duct tape, it no longer worked.

For several hours you agonized, not knowing where to put yourself, but you couldn't stand it and, sighing heavily, got out of bed, heading for Roach. Why him? You didn't know it yourself. Gary had become your closest friend and coming to him in the middle of the night didn't seem like a crazy idea.

A disheveled Roach didn't open the door for you right away, but then he did and listened to your problem with a slight smile on his lips. He stood on the cold floor for a moment, thinking about what he could do to help you. Then he stepped aside and gestured for you to lie down on his bed. He was laying on the very edge, hugging you with his cold hands. Just as you were about to open your mouth and resent the fact that a hug, while nice, wouldn't help you, Roach started humming softly in your ear.