The Brightest Lights Need The Darkest Nights

Sometimes

The rain was strong that night. It pounded at the roofs and windows and doors. Cars were barely visible in the downpour, and those who walked along the sidewalks were less walking and more running for their lives, trying to avoid being shoved around by sheets upon sheets of water.

Two small forms huddled together under a small overhang in a deep alleyway. The overhang wasn't so much an overhang as it was a dumpster lid propped open by trash cans. Both forms shivered, but beyond that didn't move. The area was soaked through already, and they were only just out of the rain.

One of the forms carefully rose. The boy reached his hand out to the other, to help him do the same. They both grabbed the ratty blanket they'd been sitting on and wrapped it up, stuffing it under the first's shirt.

Both rushed out of their hiding place, becoming blurs on the sidewalk. From the alleyway, they made their path down the streets. Not once did they stop, nor did they speak to each other.

The rain was still coming down as they slipped into a warehouse district. Light footsteps were not heard over the pounding on sheet metal and brick walls. Both boys sprinted through narrow spaces, until finally coming across one building. To a normal person, it looked like every other warehouse in the area. To the two children, it was much different.

Structurally sound, but not upkept. Unused in recent times, likely to not be used for a long while, but not about to collapse on anyone's head. A perfect place for a villain or hero to hole up their base...

... or two children.

Entry to the building was a bit difficult, as all the doors and windows were locked. Being small helped them squeeze through a hole in the side, one that they could probably cover up with a dumpster or some bins. Inside, it was clear no one really bothered to clean the place out.

Several large crates were stacked high in the ground floor, multiple cracked open or with loose lids. Dirty and possibly broken stairs led up to the higher levels. The boys just sighed in relief that nothing was leaking.

Following his instincts, the first boy set their blanket out to dry on a railing. Then he climbed atop one of the crates, pushing the lid off with a resounding clang. No one was around, so it didn't matter if it made noise.

He grinned at the treasures within.

"Clothes!" he crowed down to his partner, who grinned back. The second boy caught the shirts and pants and other articles tossed his way. Without hesitation, both boys pulled off their sopping and soaking outfits and replaced them with the new ones. Multiple layers were pulled over each other, again and again, each one beginning to give some semblance of warmth. Socks and beanies and gloves were spared a moment each for little hands to run over the fabric before pulled over the proper appendages.

The second boy finally joined in his companion, climbing atop his own crate. This one was still sealed tightly, and even pulling as hard as he would, the lid didn't budge.

"Pete, I need help," he called over. Pete nodded, setting down the T-shirt he'd been examining. With a running leap, he jumped over the gap and landed with a thud next to his partner.

"On three. One, two, three!" They tugged together, popping the seal loudly. Carefully, they pushed the lid back, not wanting to fall off themselves. Inside, there was something even better than warmth giving clothes.

Chips. Cans. Jars. All sorts of food meant to be put on shelves and stored in cupboards. Food that lasts long, or long enough. Pete grabbed a bag of Door Eatos, making sure to open it without ripping it and spilling the precious contents.

"Here, Ned." He passed the bag over, orange scent wafting into the air. "You need these more than me. I can eat when we get everything done."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Ned looked around in thought.

"Good," he finally said. "I don't want to lose you."

"Sometimes you lose people," Pete started, "but we're best friends. You don't lose best friends."

"Always?"

"Always."

~ ~ ~

Her head tilted as she gazed after the duo. Beside her, her shadow did the same, so that both were curiously looking at the others.

Pete was busy grabbing new clothes and beginning their modifications. They were definitely too big for the new ones. Ned was mixing something together on their makeshift table, keeping everything neat and organized. She recognized the items as some sort of medicinal recipe.

"Would you like to give us names," Pete asked as he reapproached. He held out the pile of clothes, which she accepted, passing some to her shadow.

"Gwen." She looked at her shadow, getting a nod in response. "He's Miles."

"I'm Peter. That's Ned. You can call me Pete if the 'r' is too hard."

"Hungry." The small word is spoken softly, originating from Mile's shy smile.

"I'm working on some food right now. Peter, do you think we have some extra chips?"

Peter nodded, sprinting to grab a bag and then rushing back. He opened it and passed it over to Miles, who smiled a bit more confidently.

"...Gwendolyn."

"What?" Peter looked confused for a moment, his face scrunching. Then he noticeably realized what she meant. "That's a beautiful name, Gwen. I'm really glad you trust us. It's hard to trust after them." All four kids let a moment of silence pass. Then Ned called over with enthusiasm, bringing spirits back up.

"Finished! Now we can treat those bruises properly!" He held up the paste in his bowl for the others to see. Miles grimaced. Peter joined in.

"I know, it looks awful, but at least it'll help with the pain." Miles smiled again. Gwen was happy he could do it so much, now.

~ ~ ~

There was no speaking from within the warehouse, no word uttered. Miles gaped from his perch on the table, Gwen stood frozen in her protective stance in front of her shadow, Peter didn't let go of the ceiling, and Ned didn't so much as twitch at the sudden presence.

"I thought you were gone."

The words startled the kids into action. Miles dashed forward, ramming into the taller boy. Gwen wiped at her tears, staying back until her shadow was done with his reunion. Peter dropped down, sprinting forward and forgoing courtesy to make sure this was real. That he was really standing before them, nearly unharmed.

"Eugene Thompson, where on Earth have you been?"

All three of the others lunged away from their long-lost friend, leaving him to face Ned's wrath alone.

"I got out, just like you guys, but I didn't think... I thought I was gonna be alone." Ned's face changed to regret, to sorrow. It was a look one might never imagine a young person like him to wear. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around the other.

"None of us will be alone again. Ever."