For Frankie, falling asleep was more like closing his eyes and then opening them again with the knowledge that a chunk of time had passed while his eyes were closed. He felt like maybe that wasn't what sleep was supposed to feel like, but he had nothing to compare it to except for Henry's drowsiness and bleariness, which Frankie never felt.

Still, he woke up, feeling comfortable and mostly relaxed, still curled around Henry. He looked around, poked his head out of the blanket, and squinted a bit as he tried to piece together what sleep had tried to take away from him.

"I think... we made a fort?" That sounded right. "And they didn't... take it down."