Bubbles found Ricky facedown in a heap. Gravel clung to his face. Discarded bottles laid strewn at his feet. For one agonizing moment, ice cold dread shot through his veins and Bubbles feared that his friend would never wake up again. He kneeled there beside him, resting the man's head in his lap. He pressed his fingers to Ricky's neck and was blessed with the steady rhythm of a pulse.
Relief washed over him. Bubbles exhaled. He brought trembling fingers to Ricky's hairline and brushed through auburn locks. Over and over, he petted the man. The motion was soft, soothing, like stroking a cat. Little by little, Bubbles relaxed.
"Bubbs?"
The chubby blonde glanced down to his lap. Watery blue eyes blinked up at him. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did." When Ricky squinted at him, perplexed, Bubbles sighed. "Yes, Ricky. Go ahead. Ask me anything."
"Promise not to laugh?" He asked, small and uncertain.
Bubbles' brow creased with worry. "Laugh at you for what? Asking a question?"
"It's stupid."
"Asking questions isn't stupid. It's how people learn."
"What's 'lecture' mean?"
"It's when you tell someone what's what, maybe to teach them, or maybe just bitching them out." Bubbles continued to run his fingers through Ricky's hair. He hoped the motion brought comfort to his buddy, like it comforted him.














