Squee didn't like when people screamed.
Especially at him. But he also hated it when people screamed in anger, hurt, or alarm.
The wrenching sound made his body feel like it was being tugged, mimicked, and mocked. When he heard it, he wanted to drop his bear and snuggle his head into his chest and put his hands over his ears.
He was used to being scared of loud noises.
So none of that bothered him.
What bothered him is when the shrieking next door rang out in middle of the night, drenched in anguish, he could feel his face twitch. Distort. Move in ways it really shouldn't.
The corners of his lips would go up. Just the... tiniest bit.
He'd catch himself, letting out a small, nervous laugh, and wrap himself tighter around Shmee.
He'd reject the strange sensation of hysteria and force himself to sleep so he could ignore it.
But he always forgot...
Whenever you go to sleep, you have to wake up sometime.