Stephanie hadn't been given too many chances to rest since arriving in LazyTown. Despite the leading name, there was little time during the day or night when she was truly lazy. Thankfully, that night had been an early to bed, early to rise type of night and she found herself laying partially awake in her very comfortable bed. Her uncle had already gone to bed, leaving her with the silence of the house and nothing more. Not even the sound of wind outside her window distracted her enough to keep her thoughts from derailing themselves. No matter how often she tried to concentrate on sleep, other ideas snuck into her head.
Another day, another plan by Robbie Rotten, another heroic save by Sportacus. And yet another moment when Sportacus would smile at Robbie, dance with Stephanie and all would be well. The next day she knew would be good, would be fun. They'd play, they'd compete and everyone would win.
But that was the problem. Robbie won, again and again. Sportacus lost sleep, disappeared, got kicked out of town and had sugar crashes whenever the madman got involved in their activities. Yet no one did anything about him. Robbie still lived underground in that place of his. Not even Sportacus complained. Just smiled, shrugged his shoulder and suggested another sport they could try before they all headed for bed. He could have asked the mayor for a favor; could have gotten Robbie kicked out as easy as anything. Yet he never did.
Even when Robbie laughed in his face, dug holes and waited for him to fall in. Sportacus never even acted angry. The pranks made him laugh as they sometimes watched him play along. And in the end he was as happy as the morning before the effort, just as pleased as if he'd foiled the prank himself. And Stephanie had tried to ask her mayor to get rid of Robbie. It had been just a little suggestion. But all he'd said was that Sportacus had asked that Robbie stay, regardless of what he did. No reason, nothing but "It was a personal request!" and the smile that was always plastered on his face.
Sometimes it seemed like a dance. Robbie did this; Sportacus did that, a choreographed dance that she'd stumbled onto without really understanding. They always knew what to expect. No one was hurt and, in the end, it was as if it had never happened. Each day started normal and ended normal. Only the good parts stuck with them. And Sportacus was never bothered day to day about the plans Robbie would have. They never thought about those when they weren't happening. It wasn't a worry, even if it should have been. The few times she'd tried to plan, Sportacus had smiled gently and told her not to worry. Everything would be okay, he said. Nothing goes too wrong here, not with Sportacus to protect them all!
And that had been the end of that. Ziggy had laughed and Pixel had dragged out his newest plans for their newest clubhouse. Even Trixie had just rolled her eyes at her worries. Stingy had just ignored them for the sake of the pennies he'd found on the ground, counting them through the advanced system of repeating the word 'mine' until he'd claimed them all. In the end, of course, Robbie had appeared with a rotten plan; Sportacus had saved the day and Stephanie had asked him why they hadn't planned for that. The only response she got was a sickly sweet smile and the dying notes of her dancing song as Sportacus flipped away. There was never a good answer why they didn't make up plans to prevent their problem. Even when she presented little forms, little drawn out ideas for the simplest things, no one listened. They would push the plans away and then wonder why Robbie always infiltrated their parties, wore disguises and always tried so desperately to send Sportacus away.
When night came though, Robbie had been re-vanquished to his underground and the kids were all in bed. Sometimes Stephanie would have sworn she heard the airship above her, footsteps somewhere in the distance. Especially as she lay half-awake in the darkness of her room, waiting for sleep to overcome her. Then she heard the creak of metal hinges, the sound of someone sliding. It was nothing, she knew. Yet when the clock beeped to remind her it was 8:08 and time to sleep, she would have sworn the silence returned. No more airship nor more wind, nothing save the silence as she drifted to sleep.