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For the first time in years, everything felt right.
He had his foot back in the stage door, so to speak, and the team was all together again. Best of all, Chip finally had his best friend back.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
Life was good again.
Well, almost.
Dale had been set on a reboot for years now, and if Chip was being honest with himself, he truly did miss the show. Script approval was one of his main concerns, but with their sudden popularity spike following the missing toons case, that didn’t turn out to be an issue.
No, the real issue came in trying to keep his eyes open long enough to read the pilot episode. Three pages had him blinking back waves of exhaustion. Five pages had his head nodding. Seven pages…
“Aw, come on!” Chip jolted awake as Dale leaned over his shoulder. “It can’t be that boring!”
“What?” Shaking off the lingering fatigue, Chip replied, “No! It’s actually very good.”
Dale flashed that winning smile of his. “Uh-huh. Is that why it was literally putting you to sleep? Hey, what part are you at?”
Saved by Dale’s short attention span, Chip handed over the script and basked in the relief of not having to come up with some sort of lame excuse.
He was fine. Everything was fine.
It was great, actually. The team was back together and he wasn’t alone anymore and—
Chip blinked. Wait. Those points had already been covered. Right. Come on, Chip, wake up!
Though getting back to “the way things used to be,” as Dale liked to say, was easier than had Chip thought, the “telling each other everything” part would take some getting used to. It wasn’t as if Chip wanted to keep secrets from Dale, there were just certain things his friend didn’t need to worry about.
“Oh yeah,” Dale went on. “This part’s good. I won’t spoil the end for you though.”
“Spoil away.” With a stretch, Chip got up and made his way to the kitchen. “I already read it twice. I was just going back through it one last time to catch any details I missed before calling the studio to tell them the series is a go.”
The excited whoop that came from Dale brought a smile to Chip’s face as he grabbed a glass of water.
And promptly splashed some in his face before Dale scrambled into the kitchen after him.
“You really mean it?”
“Of course, I do. It sounds like it has the potential to be a great show. And how’d you get in my house, anyway?”
“Spare key,” Dale said with a grin. “You gave me one, remember?”
Well, he remembered now. Something at the very back of his mind told Chip he also had a key to Dale’s house, but his brain was too foggy to locate that little bit of information.
“Right. Thirsty?”
Drinks were poured and soon Chip found himself engaging in an exciting back and forth about possible episode ideas. To his credit, Dale had some pretty solid thoughts. Almost as if he’d been thinking about it for years.
That makes two of us, then.
“All right!” Chip said with a laugh as they moved back into the living room. “Don’t go planning season two before we even have a chance to shoot the pilot.”
“Oh, but season two’s gonna be so great!” Dale gushed.
Grabbing the remote, Chip shook his head. “Let’s focus on season one first.”
Dale responded with a halfhearted grumble and promptly picked that night’s movie. It was his turn, anyway, and that was just as well. Chip could barely keep his eyes open, much less make decisions.
As the credits rolled, he realized he hadn't contacted the studio about the script yet.
Tomorrow, came the weary, yet reassuring thought. There’ll be plenty of time for that tomorr…
It was only when a light shove startled him awake did Chip even notice he’d fallen asleep again.
Dale’s concerned gaze studied him as he forced the fatigue from his eyes.
“Hey,” Dale began, a bit hesitant, “you sleeping okay at night?”
“Of course!” Chip blamed the exhaustion for his snappish tone of voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, usually when someone’s really tired, it usually means they aren’t sleeping.” Dale shrugged, the movie having faded into the background. “I just remember that one time you ran yourself into the ground towards the end of that first year of Rescue Rangers .”
With a sigh, Chip tried to focus on the screen. “That has nothing to do with me falling asleep during a movie. That’s what you’re supposed to do, especially if it’s one you’ve seen a dozen times. It’s normal.” Dale didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, okay? Just a bit tired.”
Dale’s eyebrows shot up. “A bit? ”
“Oh, shut up and watch the movie.”
Their chuckles were somewhat forced as they tried to get back into the swing of the night. It didn’t quite feel the same, however, with Dale shooting a concerned glance or two Chip’s way every so often.
It was all Chip could do to stay awake, and by the time Dale left, his bed wasn’t just calling to him—it was screaming.
It was a summons he promptly ignored, pouring another cup of coffee and settling back onto the couch for his second feature film of the evening, just like he’d done the night before.
And the night before that. And the one before that.
The nightmares were going to come regardless, he’d accepted that. But it didn’t mean he had to stick around for the show and all its accompanying terror. No, of course not.
So, after several horrifying, restless nights, Chip had come up with what seemed to be the only solution. If the nightmares came whenever he slept, he just wouldn’t sleep anymore.
It was as simple as that.
At some point, Millie snuggled up behind the couch, and somewhere between petting her nose and flicking through the channels to find yet another movie, reality began to blend with that nightmarish world he’d so desperately tried to avoid.
He’d already lived that world—that scene —he didn’t need to go through it all again each night.
A deranged toon hell-bent on revenge.
A stray bullet—one that was meant for him.
“Come on, man, don’t prank me like this.”
And then, nothing.
“Not again…”
Not even a heartbeat.
“Dale…? Dale!”
Sometimes, Dale simply wouldn’t wake up. Sometimes, he would get up without a word, walk away, and never come back.
Most of the time, though, Dale would slowly fade away. Chip’s hands would slip right through his brother’s chest until he was left utterly and completely alone.
Again.
With a gasp, Chip would jolt awake to find Millie nuzzling his shoulder, as if she could somehow make it all better.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he would fill up a bucket of ice water and dump it over his head, hoping this method would succeed where all the others had failed.
There. That’ll do the trick.
It never did.
The next week turned into a fierce battle between Chip and sleep unlike anything he could’ve anticipated—or prepared for. The more sleep fought to claim him, the more determined he became to stay awake.
And the more he caught himself dozing off at the worst moments.
Like during a conference call with the studio. Or at dress rehearsal. And costume fittings. And during his lunch breaks with the team.
Dale would always flash him those looks when they were together, but Chip would just pour another cup of coffee and try to act like it was working for him. His immunity to coffee had built up a while ago, and since the caffeine didn’t work as well anymore, he just drank it for the taste. And the pretense that it was chasing away his fatigue, if only to prove to Dale he was fine.
Ever since he woke up that morning, however, “fine” consisted of nausea, swimming vision, and a throbbing ache that jabbed at the back of his skull. There was also this weird irritability he couldn’t seem to shake, which was the last mood he thought he’d have to grapple with on the first day of filming their new show.
Despite all that, and the fact that his legs were crying out to him to just sit down, nothing could ruin the feeling of donning his old hat and jacket again.
For a moment, he simply stood in his dressing room, reveling in the familiar feel of the fabric and all the beautiful memories that came with it.
In the mirror’s reflection, he watched Dale come up beside him. “Feels good, huh?”
“Yeah,” Chip breathed, his voice filled with no small amount of reverence. “Honestly?” He shook his head. “I never thought we’d get to this point again.”
“Well then, let’s get out there,” Dale said with an excited chuckle. “The show won’t make itself!”
Filming that first scene had been nothing short of exhilarating. Oh, how he’d missed this. The sets, the costumes, the camaraderie. The lights, camera, action of it all.
And the way he and Dale fell right back into that perfect chemistry of theirs that had made the show such a success in the ‘90s.
“Cut! All right, take five!”
One thing Chip hadn’t missed about show business was the insufferable amount of standing around in between takes. Waiting for a crew to reset the scene. Waiting for someone to run to the bathroom. Waiting for the director to figure out what he wanted to do with the current scene. Waiting, waiting.
Waiting.
It never used to be this hard.
The cynical part of his brain scoffed. You never used to do the ice bucket challenge every night just to keep yourself out of bed.
Rolling his eyes at his subconscious was childish, no doubt about it. So, Chip sucked in a breath and leaned back against the wall.
“Hey,” Gadget said, flashing a grin as she joined him, a cup of coffee in hand.
“Hey,” he returned, eyeing the cup with more than a little envy.
She nodded toward the set. “Are we still waiting?”
Sighing, Chip gave a tight nod. “Yep.”
The director was talking to Monty about a particularly difficult stunt they were trying to do. He exchanged a knowing look with Gadget.
“Yeah,” she said, “this could take a while.” Then, she studied him with that same look he’d come to despise seeing on Dale. “Hey, are you getting enough sleep?”
“Why is that such a huge issue all of a sudden? I’m fine, okay? My sleep patterns shouldn’t require this much inspection, so you and Dale can just lay off!”
A splash of hurt clouded her face and Chip sighed once more.
“Sorry, I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. You didn’t deserve that. And… you’re right. I guess I haven’t been sleeping so well lately.”
“Aw, that’s all right. Any idea why?”
“No.” Though easy, the lie left a bitter taste on his tongue. Before she could reply, however, he quickly transitioned to another subject. “Hey, who’d you get to watch the kids?”
“The neighbors,” came her reply. “They’ve been great. Not just anyone can handle all those little guys, but somehow they manage to surprise us every time.”
“That’s nice.” Even as he said it, Chip found himself fighting a wave of nausea as the world tilted.
Gadget’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
No, his brain screamed, but seeing as the world had stabilized again…
“Of course, I’m—”
“Places everyone!”
Saved by the bell. “Looks like we’re up again. Finally. ”
“But, Chip, seriously. If you need to take a break, I’m sure we can—”
“I’m fine, Gadget.” He forced a smile for her. “Really.”
Really?
This time, Chip did roll his eyes at his subconscious.
Oh, shut up.
Dale gave him a thumbs up as they took their positions. This time, Chip’s grin was genuine.
Because they were really here. After all those years.
We’re back.
Back together.
“Quiet on the set!”
Chip took a steadying breath, mentally running through his lines again.
“And… action!”
Showtime.
Chip spoke first, a quick banter with Dale before Gadget took the spotlight and said… something.
Blinking, Chip tried to concentrate on the scene, on his upcoming line, on literally anything but the pounding in the back of his skull.
Someone nudged him in the ribs and he realized an odd silence had settled over the group. They were all waiting for something.
Waiting for him.
“Uh…” His mind had drawn a complete blank, but that wasn’t what worried him. No, what made his heart skip a beat was the fact that he couldn’t bring Dale and Gadget back into focus, no matter how many times he blinked. “I…” He shook his head. Come on! “I can’t, uh…”
When he dropped his character voice, Dale shot him another one of those looks.
Behind him, Monty whispered, “Chipper, I don’t think that’s the line.”
“Right.” Chip squeezed his eyes shut in one last attempt to fix his swimming vision. Come on! What’s wrong with you? “Sorry, I… Just give me a minute…”
“Chip?” That was Dale, who had taken a few steps closer, breaking out of his scene blocking.
Another blink only made things worse and the world chose that moment to start spinning.
Great.
He couldn’t remember making the conscious choice to reach out, but as his hand glided through the air, Chip suddenly felt very light.
Too light.
“Dale…” he breathed right before his legs decided to buckle.
“Chip!”
Someone caught him—he couldn’t tell who—and the studio became a whirlpool of sound and motion.
Too much sound.
It hurt Chip’s ears as he fought to open his eyes. Thick tendrils of black coiled around his mind, quickly squeezing the life out of him.
The last thing he remembered was seeing Dale’s worried face through thinly slit eyelids.
“You’re gonna be okay, do you hear me?”
Sure…
“Chip? You’re gonna be—”
… Okay.
The battle he’d been fighting for so long at last came to a close, with the darkness winning the final victory.
Dale had been there when his eyes closed and he was there when Chip forced them back open. After what felt like a strange, death-like slumber, he found himself in a hospital room.
Why his muddled brain thought he’d still be at the studio, Chip just couldn’t figure.
“Chip! You’re awake!”
With a groan, Chip eased into a semi-sitting position. Slowly, so as not to aggravate the pounding that still battered his skull, albeit at a much lighter pang than before.
“Yeah… What ha—Ow!” A new pain shot through his arm as Dale gave it a rough punch. “Hey!”
“Don’t ever do that to me again!”
Rubbing away the pain, Chip exclaimed, “What was that for?”
“Next time you feel like you’re gonna pass out on set, don’t tell me you’re fine !” Dale shot back. “Then, maybe I’ll be more prepared to catch you. ”
“Hey, I had no idea I was going to pass out!”
“Well, it was bound to happen sometime. If you were really fine like you told me—you know, when you lied—you wouldn’t be here right now!”
Though a biting remark scorched the tip of his tongue, Chips swallowed it down and collapsed back against the pile of pillows. “How long have I been out?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Chip sighed. “Well, if you have to say it like that, then no, not really. And sorry. I didn’t mean…” Rubbing at his arm was simply to give his hand something to do, the pain having faded long ago. “I don’t like fighting with you.”
“Yeah.” Dale hung his head. “I don’t like it either… But come on, Chip! You scared me half to death! You scared everyone! Gadget was in a panic because she said she knew something was wrong and Monty was absolutely losing it!”
“What about you?” Chip’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Me?” Dale shook his head, blue eyes pooling with emotion. “I thought I was going to lose my best friend.”
Chip gave a solemn nod before blowing out another sigh. “Well, I guess that makes two of us.”
Because, loath as he was to talk about it, he owed Dale a few explanations.
It’s the least you can do after scaring him like that.
At Dale’s obvious confusion, Chip sucked in a breath and fixed his gaze on the far corner of the ceiling.
“We’ve never done anything like that before,” he began, his words slow and thoughtful. “All that insanity with Monty and the Valley Gang. I mean, it was exciting, sure, but it’s one thing to do something like that as characters on a show. It’s… It’s different when it’s real…”
“Yeah,” Dale said, his tone a touch apprehensive. “But it’s all over now. We won, and we’re fine. No harm, no foul.”
“Sure, it’s all over. Technically. I guess I can’t…” Chip shuddered. “I never moved past that night on the docks. I can't get the images out of my head.”
“What images?”
Chip blew out a sigh. “Of you dying. It had to have been a full minute, at least, but it felt like a lifetime.”
“But…” Dale’s smile was clearly forced, a poor attempt at reassurance. “I’m here now.”
“But you weren’t!” He hadn’t meant to snap, the unwanted emotion had just ridden out on the words. “It didn’t even look like you were breathing. So yeah, you’re here now, but every night in my dreams, you’re not, and I… I decided I’d just rather not sleep than relive that over and over again.”
A heavy silence settled over the room after that as Chip caught his breath and Dale seemed to search for something to say.
“How…” Dale cleared his throat. “How long have you been… you know… not sleeping?”
Chip could only shrug.
“Yikes. Okay, uh… Look.” As if preparing to make an incredibly moving speech, he sucked in a breath. “I can’t say anything that’ll take away your nightmares, I know that, but I can tell you that what I did back on the docks wasn’t some knee-jerk reaction. Okay, maybe it was a knee-jerk reaction, but that’s a good thing!”
When Chip flashed a typical “you’re not making any sense” look his way, Dale sped up.
“Okay. Okay, just stay with me. What I’m trying to say is: I knew what I was doing. I’d jump in front of that bullet a thousand times over, because whether I was thinking about it or not, my instinct is to protect you.”
Chip felt his nose scrunch as his throat tightened. “Why? You could’ve died .”
Dale shrugged, a smile brightening his face. “You’re my best friend. You’ve always taken care of me; always done your best to protect me. Why shouldn’t I do the same for you?”
If Chip felt the first stinging of tears against his eyes, he did his best not to acknowledge them.
“That’s…” he began, finding intelligible words utterly unreachable at that moment. “That’s… I don’t, uh, don’t know anyone else who would… Did anyone ever tell you you’re insane?”
This got Dale laughing. “All the time! Now, the doctors aren’t gonna let you leave until you get some sleep.”
With that, he pulled his chair closer to the bed and snatched up a blanket on the floor that Chip hadn’t noticed before.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
Dale kept smiling as he got situated, wrapping himself up in the thick fabric. “Getting comfortable. Look, you need to sleep, right?”
“Yeah. And?”
“ And, I’m going to sleep, too. Or maybe just doze, since this is probably the hardest plastic I’ve ever had to sit on. That way, if you have another one of those nightmares, you’ll wake up and see that I’m here and that I’m all right.”
It was getting harder to blink back the oncoming—and entirely unwelcome—tears. It was all too much.
And it just proved to Chip how much he’d missed his friend over the years.
Clearing his throat, Chip swiped at his eyes. “I might not even fall asleep.”
“You better.”
He settled deeper into the pillow. “I might be loud when I wake up, especially if, well… I might wake you up.”
“I hope you do,” Dale countered. “Then, maybe I can help you. As long as you don’t try to tell me you’re fine.”
“Fine.” Chip couldn’t suppress his smile as a flower of earth blossomed in his chest. “And… thanks. You’re my best friend, too.”
Dale’s grin only grew as he snuggled into his blanket.
Maybe the nightmares didn’t disappear overnight, but slowly, the reassurance that Dale wasn’t going anywhere solidified itself in his mind.
Because they were a team again.
And this was a friendship Chip wasn’t ever going to let go of again.