I felt something move against my arm, but I was only jolted out of sleep for a second or two before I slipped back. The sudden trembling happened again and I opened my eyes.
The living room was dark. My eyes focused on the only source of light there was; the muted television screen. I glanced down to see that Danny's head was resting against my upper arm. He twitched again in his sleep, most likely having a nightmare.
I put my hand on my brother's shoulder, trying to comfort him, but he only panicked more. His legs, which were resting across Brady's lap since Danny was sprawled out across the two of us, kicked out. His knee collided with Brady's stomach.
Brady's eyes shot open and he leaned forward over Danny's legs, clutching his stomach. I couldn't help but stifle my laugher as he coughed and sputtered.
"What the hell are you laughing about?" Brady choked out. His voice wasn't any higher than a hoarse whisper.
"Well that's gotta be a rude awakening," I mused.
After raising his arm to shoot me a rather rude hand gesture, Brady took a few seconds to replace the wind that had been knocked out of him. Then he took Danny's legs off of his lap (carefully so he didn't wake him) and stood up.
"What time is it?" he asked, stretching his arms above his head.
I pointed to the digital clock behind him. "Almost two."
"Your mom didn't get home yet?"
"Don't think so," I replied. "If she did, she probably would've woken you up and told you that you could head home. Seth, too." I added, motioning to Seth's sleeping form beside me.
Brady nodded, but he didn't say anything else. I turned my gaze to my little brother who had just moved again in his sleep. He had curled himself up into a ball on the couch, but the fear that was etched onto his features a moment before was now gone.
"I should get him to his bed, but I'm not sure I can lift him..." I whispered, thinking aloud.
"Pfft, like hell you can. The guy's gotta be over six feet, so I'm guessing he's... What? 170, maybe 180 pounds?"
"I wasn't talking about him, you moron. I was talking about—"
Brady rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Danny. I was kidding," he stated. "Alright. So I'll grab his head and you grab his feet..."
"No!" I exclaimed, smacking Brady's upper arm to stop him from picking Danny up. "You'll drop him on his head!"
He shut his eyes and took a deep breathe. "Fine," he mumbled, grabbing the pad of sticky notes and the pen that we always kept on the side-table beside the phone. Brady scribbled the word "fragile" across the pad before he tore it off and stuck it to my brother's shirt. "There. I'll be careful. Happy?"
I glared at Brady with a look that I'm sure, had I not been 5'3'', would have been intimidating. "You drop him, Brady Hanson, and I swear to God, I'll..."
"Alright, alright. Calm yourself; I won't drop him."
I hesitantly picked up Danny's feet. Brady did the same with his shoulders and we proceeded to carry Danny into the hallway that led to his room.
