TW: bugs— not like in a bad way, not at all, just proceed with caution if you have entomophobia or something.
~~~

Impulse couldn't sleep. This in of itself wouldn't have been a problem if it wasn't nearly three in the morning. He rolled over again, having been tossing and turning all night, simply unable to even close his eyes.

He hadn't even had coffee that day, or, well yesterday, he supposed.

But caffeine or no, his head was still swimming with thoughts and his stomach with nausea. An uncomfortable feeling sat there, twisting around in a mix of excitement and anxiety. Excitement because of Scar and Bdubs, anxiety because of everything else.

Impulse pressed his face into his pillow, grumbling. Today was the first secret club meeting, so if he didn't get any sleep now, he wouldn't be awake enough to have any fun. However, he supposed, he could just have some of Keralis' extra caffeinated coffee, which would solve that problem. But he did still want to sleep, he just wasn't sure if he even could at this point.

How was Impulse supposed to sleep at night when an inescapable death hung over him like a rumbling storm cloud? How was he supposed to get any shut eye when he knew that it was only a matter of time before the superiors hands were stained with his blood? How was he supposed to rest when the one thing he could do to save himself was the one thing he wasn't even trying to do?

Just kill someone already. A small voice in his head urged. That voice was clearly looking out for his well-being, Impulse realized and nearly laughed. All he had to do was collect those souls and he'd be fine.

But would he be fine? Three innocent people for the sake of one? That didn't seem like a fair trade at all.

Impulse pushed over his blankets and slipped off the edge of the bed, landing on the floor with a thunk and a groan. He lied there for a moment, not having meant to to that on purpose, before pulling himself up to a sitting position and running a hand through his hair. He sighed, maybe if he got up and reset himself he could get his mind of off literal manslaughter and go to sleep.

Grabbing the edge of the nightstand, Impulse stood and blinked a few times in the darkness, faint moonlight being the only thing lighting the room. He snatched the shadowy shape that was his water bottle and took a few swings before placing it back on the table. His throat felt tight as he swallowed.

Impulse began pacing in a small circle and he realized just how stuffy it felt inside. He'd rather be outside, in the cool summer breeze and gentle moonlight. Of course, it would be rather odd and even a bit creepy for him to just, go on a walk at this time of night, but he wasn't sure what else he was meant to do. He couldn't sleep, and a walk sounded a whole lot better than sitting in the dark with nothing to keep him company except thoughts death.

He shrugged, anything other than staying in this tiny room was fine, if he was being honest. He quickly grabbed a hoodie from his bag and pulled it over his head, in case it was cold out.

Impulse opened the door slowly under shaky hands, doing his best to not let it squeak. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Xisuma, it would be less than ideal for both of them. He slipped out into the hallway and creeped towards the stairs carefully, like he was a school kid sneaking away from his parents to go to a party.

When Impulse passed Xisuma's door, it was open a crack, and he couldn't help but peek into the mayor's room. Xisuma was fast asleep, his helmet on his bedside table and he was using what looked like a ventilator for sleep, a clear mask on his face. Impulse internally winced, it must suck to have to use things like those just to be able to breathe properly.

He started to turn away, but for a second, he had one of those thoughts again. He'd be easy to kill. Quick and painless, all in his sleep.

Impulse felt his stomach drop and he looked away, hurrying past Xisuma's door. It would be stupid to kill Xisuma anyways, all the other hermits would know that he did it, he'd be the main suspect— Oh gods, it was like he was even thinking like a murderer at this point. Impulse shook his head and clenched his fists together. He wasn't going to kill anyone, he wasn't going to hurt a soul.

He swallowed and flashed one last glance back down the hallway, before padding down the stairs quietly in socked feet, avoiding the one step that creaked. He grabbed his shoes from the landing and slipped them on.

Impulse stood at the front door and faltered for a moment, wondering if this was a good idea. Well, it wasn't like any of the hermits would be awake at this time of night anyways, so they wouldn't see him or anything. Yeah, he just needed to clear his head, fifteen minutes, tops. Impulse let out a shaky breath and left, slow and cautious with the door handle, doing his best to not make the slightest of sounds.

He hopped down the front steps and onto the main path, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket as the breeze bit into him. He started into an amble along the path, turning his head up to gaze at the night sky. It was a full moon tonight, and the sky was littered with stars.

Impulse loved stars a lot. After all, he never did get to see them down in the nether. He remembered that his first ever mission was at night, and the sky was just so beautiful that he had forgotten about his target entirely. He had a mission now, if only he'd complete it for his own sake.

It was silent, except for those thoughts. And the crunch of his shoes against the gravel, and the low, humming buzz of cicadas.

(There's a tree outside my bedroom window that's full of cicadas this time of year and they are so GODDAMN loud at night. Anyways continuing on)

Impulse looked down to his feet, kicking a few rocks along the path. It was surprisingly darker than he thought it would be, even with all of the street lamps. All of the houses were dark and still, hermits sleeping peacefully inside. A cloud passed over the moon and it got even darker for a moment.

Even with the occasional pockets of light, the world was bathed in all these inky black shadows. Impulse wasn't sure if he liked it or not. But at least thinking about the scenery was proving successful at getting his mind off of other matters.

He paused underneath one of the street lamps, looking to the moths fluttering around it. Pulling a hand out from his pocket, he willed it to glow with a quick dark magic spell. While Impulse didn't love a lot of the aspects of dark magic, he did love the glitter. Yellow sparks surrounded his hand and danced between his fingers. Some of the moths noticed the glow and switched their attention away from the lamp, fluttering down to him.

Impulse looked at them in wonder, at their fuzzy antennae, stubby wings, and round little bodies. He thought that they were rather cute for insects. Some of the other hermits, (namely Joe and Bdubs) complained about the moths and how annoying or gross they were, but Impulse just thought they were nice.

He started walking again, holding his hand in the air and letting the moths trail after its glow. It was like he was a disney princess— except with insects. Impulse stifled a laugh and looked back to his moth friends fondly.

He spent a while winding between houses on the trails, bringing the moths along with him. Every house was unique in its own special way, and they looked so much different in the dark from how they looked in the day. Impulse was reaching the edge of the village, ready to turn back and head home, when he saw something that wasn't right.

He stopped in his tracks, and flicked his wrist, dropping the glow on his hand so that the moths fluttered away to find a new light source.

All of the hermits' houses that he'd passed before were dark, except for this one. It was three in the morning after all, no one should've been awake. But still, despite the time, a soft golden glow seeped from the windows of a tiny windmill house. Impulse narrowed his eyes, quickly recognizing the house as belonging to Zedaph.

He took a few, cautious steps closer to the building, confused. Maybe Zed has just forgotten to turn the lights off? That wasn't very mindful of energy, but Impulse would rather it be that than be that Zedaph was still awake. Yes, he was a hypocrite by thinking that, no, he did not care.

Impulse stayed as still as he could, watching the windows. He saw movement inside for a moment, and his hopes immediately plummeted. Zedaph stepped in front of the window, pulling up a chair to the table that sat adjacent to it. Zed sat down at the table and rested his head in his hands.

It was hard for Impulse to see him quite well through the window, but Zedaph looked wrecked, hair a mess and eyes downcast. Impulse felt like this was something he wasn't supposed to be seeing. He backed up a little bit, off the path and further into shadows. He knew he should leave, but for some reason, it was like he simply couldn't tear his eyes away.

Zedaph had pulled over a notebook, and was scribbling in it furiously. Lots of tiny parts for his contraptions sat in front of him, though he wasn't doing anything with them. He occasionally took sips from an energy drink of some kind that sat next to him. After what felt like forever, Zed put down his pencil and stared blankly at his pages. He pulled his knees up to him, settling his chin on them.

Zedaph reached out in front of him, somewhere beyond the window that Impulse couldn't see, and his hand came back holding a small slip of paper. Zedaph held the paper tightly in shaking hands, and Impulse realized that he was crying.

A few sobs shuddered through Zed's tiny frame, and Impulse stumbled back a little further. He felt like he was intruding on something personal, violating Zedaph in a way he never should have. But he still couldn't look away.

Zedaph dropped the paper he was holding in order to wipe his tears with his sleeve, and Impulse realized that it wasn't a paper. It was a photograph.

Yeah, Impulse shouldn't be here at all. He shouldn't be watching like this. He finally managed to wrench his gaze away and hurry off, flashing one last glance at the house before he rounded a corner. Zedaph was struggling with something completely beyond his control, beyond his understanding. Impulse knew too that he couldn't help Zed or tell anyone without someone wondering just how he knew that something was wrong in the first place.

He fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie and chewed on the end of it, biting back a scream of frustration. He saw something he shouldn't have, and now he couldn't even help. He didn't even know what he'd need to do if he could help.

Impulse shuddered a little, blinking back tears of his own. Poor Zed... poor, poor, Zed. He was such a nice guy... whatever was going on, he didn't deserve it. Impulse would find a way to help him. He had to.

Impulse noticed he was walking quite fast, and slowed himself a little, as he realized it probably wasn't making things any better. He made a little sound of dismay, and lit his hand again, waiting for the moths to follow his sparkles. They did, fluttering around him all the way back to Xisuma's lodge.

The travel itself felt like a blur, his limbs getting heavier and more tired as he walked. Impulse was thankful for that, because maybe he'd finally get to sleep after everything. When he made it to Xisuma's door, finally, he paused for a minute. He turned his light magic off and waited for the moths to disperse into the night.

Impulse looked down in confusion as one moth, which had been perched on his hand, didn't fly away. It looked up at him curiously, flicking its antennae.

"Don't wanna leave, huh?" Impulse whispered, lifting his hand up to his face. The moth flitted it's wings and walked in a little circle, tiny feet tickling his palm. Strange, he thought. The moth rubbed its face against his thumb, in the same way a cat would, before fluttering up and sitting on his head.

Impulse giggled softly at the weird little moth and how it wanted to stay. He wondered briefly is Xisuma wouldn't like insects inside, before slipping through the door quietly. He could feel the moth nestling into his hair, and it didn't leave as he crept upstairs and back to his bedroom.

The door shut with a soft click and he sighed in quiet relief that he hadn't woken X. Impulse pulled off his hoodie carefully as to not disturb his new friend, and he bundled it up and placed it on his nightstand. He then scooped the moth up and off his head, and placed it on the hoodie. The moth didn't protest other than fluttering it's wings a bit.

Impulse patted the moth with a finger, before crawling into his own bed.

And, amazingly enough, he fell asleep fast.

~ schreep skip ~

To Impulse's surprise, the moth was still there when he woke up, walking around his nightstand curiously.

He was, obviously, unimaginably tired from getting half his usual amount of sleep, but he still went through the rest of his day without any hiccups.

He decided to name the moth Fuzzy, because he was fuzzy, after all. Xisuma had pointed out that he had a bug on him, to which Impulse had just replied that it was Fuzzy. Xisuma had simply shrugged, he'd clearly seen weirder before.

Impulse had gotten plenty of coffee before meeting with Scar and Bdubs, and he still felt a little tired, but it was much better than it was before. The secret club meeting had gone fine as well. Impulse showed off a few of his powers, and they talked about what they were going to do about Tango. Impulse had also shown them Fuzzy, Scar cooed at the little moth, while Bdubs was disgusted. Impulse just laughed and held his little moth.

And for a good while, Impulse felt happy. He felt better just being around the hermits. And sure, he had problems to solve, but he'd figure it out. And sure, Zedaph was having his own problems too, but it was only a matter of time before the other hermits noticed, and got him the help he needed.

There were a lot of things wrong, but every good thing made it all better. The secret club, Fuzzy, Keralis' coffee, Jellie the cat, they all made it better.

For three months, Impulse was getting to feel happy, so maybe this wasn't such a curse after all.

~ end chapter 14 ~

A/N: That house took eight long and arduous hours. I rarely draw buildings ever, so yeah. Also, Fuzzy is not suspicious at all... :)

Bonus art!!! <3