Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

An apprehensive green bear rested over a balcony rail outside a motel room, flicking ashes on the concrete two stories below. The night air held dregs of the humid summer heat, but felt cooler than the hours under the sun.

The bear’s eyes impatiently darted to the time on his watch. Tense and on edge, each passing minute irritated him more than it should have. After one last puff, Flippy snuffed out the embers of his cigarette on the rail he was leaning against. That was his third smoke in the past hour. An hour of waiting the arrival of a close friend, one that promised to reveal the outcome of his recent endeavor.

Situated in the middle of a forest, nothing but a scattered choir of crickets and the gentle rustle of trees filled the silence around the secluded motel. Besides the dim glow from the windows of the occupied rooms, there wasn't much else offering light in the darkness of the night. The few streetlights surrounding the motel were severely lacking in maintenance. Even though he missed the bustling heart of the town where his home once was, the quiet motel brought him the kind of peace he couldn't find in Harptree.

Flippy withdrew into his motel room and quickly shut the door. He briskly strode through the small space to retrieve his phone, only to find a notification from five minutes ago.

‘Sorry Flip, I can't make it to you right now. Meet me here asap.’

Annoyance bit at him momentarily, but he shook it off while shrugging on his leather jacket. Flippy grabbed the keys to his pickup truck and made a beeline to the vehicle parked outside. He had to take a deep breath as he anxiously gripped the steering wheel. Part of him would be happy to ignore his friend’s text and retreat to his motel room, but Flippy knew that his friend would blow up his phone all night until he appeared.

Shoving aside his conflicting thoughts for now, Flippy shifted his focus on exiting the car park. Concentrating on safely manoeuvring the dark roads of the forest would be the only thing keeping the urge to bail on his friend at bay.

The tree-lined roads had been ingrained into his memory, given his extended time staying there, and this was beneficial during the night. However, relying on only the headlights of his truck was still an impediment while in a hurry, as Flippy couldn't speed his way into town. The roads were desolate, as he’d anticipated, and the bear soon gave in and accelerated his truck a little more.

But upon noticing a single pair of headlights on the other side of an intersection, he eased his foot off the gas. Flippy couldn't help but notice how fast the opposing car approached him.

Seeing no indication of the driver turning at the intersection, Flippy steered to align his truck further to his side of the road. He knew better than to take chances near reckless drivers in the dark.

But the car in front of him did a late and dangerously abrupt turn in front of his truck. The sudden shriek of tyres that followed sent the already on-edge bear’s nerves into overdrive.

Flippy swiftly rammed his foot into the brake, watching the other driver recklessly swerve right in front of his truck to speed down the side road.

He avoided a collision by mere inches. The black muscle car’s lights were quickly out of sight, but the vicious growl of its engine continued to reverberate through the trees.

Flippy took a moment to recover from the close call, cursing with disbelief at the driver's carelessness. The bear’s eyes scanned the roads one last time before moving, refusing to allow any more unwanted surprises on the route to his friend’s place.

More trees, more dirt roads, more unsettling darkness. Flippy couldn't wait to reach the well-lit open roads that welcomed him into town. 'Just a few more miles...', he reassured himself.

The comfortable roads will bring him a temporary sense of ease, but who he was inevitably about to see at his friend’s house still kept him on edge. The bear’s vice grip on the steering wheel gave away the stress from his inner conflict. But Flippy refused to overthink, willing his stoic composure to remain.

Attempting to further repress his inner turmoil, Flippy switched on the stereo, letting whatever music it offered fill his mind. While keeping his eyes on the road, he reached one hand for the glove box to retrieve his stash of cigarettes. The bear expertly flipped the lid and removed one with his lips before placing them back. But after patting down all of his pockets and finding no lighter, he cursed aloud at himself when he realised that he’d left it back at the motel room.

Flippy’s eyes briefly darted back to the glove box, certain he'd find a spare one inside. With a reasonably straight road ahead for half a mile, he used this opportunity to shift most of his focus to the compartment in his truck once more. It took him a moment before his fingers finally came across the only thing keeping him from an exhilarating first puff of his cigarette.

In his peripheral vision, illuminated by his truck's headlights, he spotted a flash of red in the middle of the road. Without wasting precious milliseconds, the bear slammed the brakes, praying to whatever gods watching that he'd reacted fast enough.

He came to an abrupt stop in his pickup, eyes squeezed shut. The panicked bear hesitated to assess what or who he almost hit, fearing a tragic outcome.

Then after daring to peek, his eyes widened with surprise when he saw long, crimson quills. Flippy noted they belonged to a female porcupine when she spun on her heels, trembling and flinching at the blinding headlights. He watched as she took small steps back, her hands raised to block the lights from her eyes.

A girl walking the desolate roads of the forest after midnight, ignoring all the dangers, raised concern and confusion within Flippy. The moment he took control of his nerves, he exited his truck to approach her with an apology.

Feeling awkward as he rubbed the back of his neck, Flippy stopped at a considerate distance from her, "I’m sorry about that... I wasn't expecting to see a hiker on these roads so late," Flippy paused, assessing the girl for any signs of disorder, "Are you all right, miss?"

Like a portrait of a deer caught in the headlights, the girl went still when Flippy spoke. Then her trembling hand clutched the fabric over her chest, no doubt to stifle her racing heart.

After a blip of silence between them, the visibly unsettled girl took a small step away from the blinding headlights to meet his eyes. She gave him a swift once-over, then her shoulders relaxed slightly. But Flippy noticed a brief flash of relief on her features.

The girl spoke quietly, “It’s okay, I-I'm fine... I just thought you were someone else.” She then tried to offer a weak smile, then continued to back away, seeming very eager to turn and continue walking.

Considering her attire and lack of belongings, unease and suspicion swirled in his gut. Linen lounge pants and an oversized sweater, both more suited for being at home than out in the dead of night. Seeing no backpack to hold water and other necessities for a hike sparked more worry, so he didn't hesitate to halt her.

“Hold on a minute,” He called out.

To Flippy's relief, she stopped in her tracks, only partially turning back to listen. Then he maintained a polite tone when he asked, “Do you need a ride back into town? Assuming that is where you're going, of course.”

Flippy could sense the unease she tried to hide from him, but he refrained from asking questions he had no business in knowing. The least he wanted to do was offer some help to the shaken porcupine, considering he almost flattened her.

However, the girl looked unsure. She leaned to glance in the direction behind Flippy’s truck, fidgeting anxiously with her fingers. Having suffered nothing but emotional rollercoasters in recent months, the bear easily recognised the confliction in her eyes.

Much to Flippy’s surprise, it didn't take further convincing for the porcupine to silently accept Flippy’s help. Warily, the girl watched him sidelong as she approached the passenger side. Then she was already in and seemingly eager to move by the time Flippy returned to the driver's seat.

The bear opened their windows an inch before buckling his belt and continuing the route towards town. The cigarette he'd attempted to light before the mishap soon found his lips again, as did the lighter in his hand. But his fingers froze as he went to light it, realising it was incredibly disrespectful to assume that his current passenger would be happy to sit amongst the smoke.

The bear stole a glance at the silent girl leaning closer to the window. Her alert gaze never once moved from the side-view mirror. Flippy recalled when the porcupine claimed she'd mistaken him for someone else, and he couldn't help but wonder who.

Paranoia was a likely suspect of her tense and fidgety behaviour, but only by initiating more conversation between them would Flippy understand her mannerisms. So far, the porcupine paid him no attention whatsoever, and the bear could tell she’d allow that for the rest of the journey if he didn’t speak first.

“Do you mind if I light this up?” Flippy asked, gesturing towards the cigarette between his lips.

The girl only spared a glance from the side, but when her eyes fell on the cigarette before meeting his, the stern expression on her face seemed to soften ever so slightly. Bashfully, she parted her lips to speak, but then closed them again, debating her next words.

Then she quietly asked, “...Could I have one, please?”

Flippy withheld his surprise at her question, expecting her to say anything but that. Even though he didn't want to be responsible for fuelling someone else’s unhealthy habits, the bear couldn't help but feel like she needed something to take the edge off.

“Sure,” He replied, then pointed to the glove box near her legs, “In there. Help yourself.”

The girl did just that and rummaged carefully through Flippy’s belongings before finding the cigarettes. She removed one with her slim fingers before putting away the pack, offering a silent look of gratitude.

His focus on the road was disturbed momentarily when he found himself absentmindedly watching as the cigarette met her lips. But he had to quickly avert his gaze when she turned to face him again, likely to ask for his lighter.

With a steady hand, Flippy brought the flame to a safe distance from her face and waited his turn. 'Ladies first.' he thought to himself, his unwritten rule.

After lighting both cigarettes, he tucked away the lighter in his pocket before opening their windows an inch more for better air circulation.

Silent minutes later, the the dark tree-dense roads were behind them. Flippy allowed himself to relax a little more when his truck’s tyres made contact with the smooth highway roads. He loathed navigating the unlit forest roads at night from the motel, and appreciated the never-ending stretch of luminous lights above them.

In the silence and pungent smell of cigarette smoke, Flippy kept his attention on the road. The red-furred porcupine’s eyes rarely left the rear-view mirror still, even as she smoked, as if anticipating something or someone to appear behind them at any moment.

Flippy didn't want to pry, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. To avoid an unwanted reaction from the girl, he refrained from learning her reasons for trailing a forest in the dead of night.

He looked at the girl and kept a friendly tone as he asked, “So, is there anywhere in particular you want me to drop you off when we get into town?”

The girl seemed to dwell on his question, then fidgeted with a lock of her quills. Flippy could sense her rising panic when she frantically checked her pockets for something. Then the young woman clutched a phone to her chest, visibly relieved it was still in her possession, and began typing in a rush.

The bear looked away to mind his own business, of course, and assumed she would respond to his question. With Flippy's destination approaching fast now that the edge of town was in sight, his calm front began to crumble.

While he welcomed a distraction from what his intended journey would lead him to, the bear couldn't help but feel something was off about the girl's behavior.

He'd managed to maintain a friendly demeanour for the startled porcupine thus far. But, so far, the irksome rapid tapping of her phone’s touchscreen keyboard is her only offered response after asking where she needed to go.

The anxiety simmering in the pit of his stomach since he’d left the motel was almost forgotten, until they finally arrived at the outskirts of town. With Flippy’s patience nearing its limit, he waited until his truck exited the highway before parking on the curb of the nearest street.

Flippy killed the engine and emitted a tight sigh, then turned in his seat to face the young woman, “Look, I have somewhere that I need to be, and I don't want to be rude and pressure you, but I need you to hurry up and tell me where you're going.”

When the girl slowly looked up at him from her phone, his failure to hide the harsh edge in his tone made Flippy regret his words.

The glistening of tears lining her green eyes didn't go unnoticed by Flippy, even as she blinked them away to pretend that they were never there. The girl refused to cry before a man she did not know. Instead, the porcupine let out an exhausted sigh and turned to offer him her full attention.

“I'm really sorry...” She quietly apologized, then gestured to the phone in her hand, “...I'm just trying to make sure my friend is awake.”

With his pickup truck parked under the generous lighting from the streetlights above, Flippy let his gaze linger on the red-furred porcupine, bewitched by the pretty features behind her tired expression. But what tainted them quickly shifted his silent admiration into a visible look of shock.

A  fading bruise circled one of her eyes. Others that looked relatively recent were visible on both of her wrists when he noticed her fidgeting with her phone.

The bear’s concern rapidly resurfaced, erasing the line he'd drawn between remaining as strangers and potentially knowing her on a more personal level, if only to ensure she was safe.

The girl felt the weight of his worried, assessing gaze as he made note of her bruises, so she awkwardly looked away and pulled down the hems of her long sleeves.

“Please don’t ask me about anything,” she started, defensively folding her arms and avoiding all eye contact with the green bear.

Flippy went to object to this, but the porcupine continued before he could get the chance to speak, “I’ll tell you the address to my friend’s apartment, then I’ll be out of your way.”

Flippy knew to approach the sensitive situation in a soft but authoritative manner; he didn't want to let her step out of the safety of his truck without absolute certainty she wasn’t in immediate danger.

The person responsible for the bruising she'd attempted to conceal will remain a mystery now the young woman’s defences were high. He felt rude to make assumptions about the girl’s life, but ruling out one thing would make it easy to narrow down her situation.

“What if your friend isn't awake? Is your home safe to return to?”

Sorrow settled into her features at his words, fracturing her false composure. She made no attempts to hide the fresh tears spilling down her cheeks this time.

Something inexplicable about the bear made her feel safe. Despite being strangers, she seemed comfortable around him, enough to express her vulnerability.

Flippy panicked, realising his question was a sensitive one, but he refused to let her sit there and cry. He sought to console the girl in any way that wouldn't make her uncomfortable, feeling foolish at his lack of tissues to offer the sobbing girl.

With his mind made up, Flippy slowly reached a hand to rest gently on her shoulder, hoping the contact would keep her grounded.

The porcupine’s crying slowly ended when she felt the warm weight of his large hand. Only after she’d wiped away the remaining tears on her sleeves could she face the man beside her.

Embarrassment flooded the girl’s expression when she realised he'd witnessed her emotional outburst. But Flippy noticed this and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey,” he started, his hand remaining on the porcupine’s shoulder as he spoke, “You’re safe in here with me, and if this friend of yours is where you want to go, then I won’t let you out of my sight until I know you are safe with them, alright?”

The bear’s safe contact and soft words, carried by his tone of determination, effortlessly eased the porcupine's discomfort. But the way his honest smile slightly crinkled his striking blue eyes almost stole the breath from her lungs.

“I didn't get your name,” Flippy stated, quickly withdrawing his hand from her shoulder when he realised how long it had been there, “I’m Flippy.”

The young woman smiled back at the man, even if it was only a weak one she could muster after her breakdown, “I’m Flaky.”

~ ~ ~

The remainder of the journey to Flaky’s friend’s apartment was short. Fortunately, he'd discovered it wasn’t a great distance from his friend’s home. He recognised the pale, high-rise apartment blocks Flaky had described to him moments ago as they came into view, so Flippy slowed his truck and parked by the main entrance of the complex.

The porcupine had reassured him that her friend was awake and awaiting her arrival. Flippy realised she was being truthful when he spotted a figure standing on their balcony several stories up, watching them like a hawk.

Questions he still wanted to ask Flaky wrestled on the tip of his tongue, but he forced them back, watching as she unbuckled her seatbelt and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

Seeing how eager she was to be reunited with her friend, the bear half expected the porcupine to hurriedly scramble out of his truck. Instead, she paused before her hand could open the door and turned in her seat to face him.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” She said with a soft smile. But then fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves when she hesitantly continued, “...I’m sorry for taking up your time tonight.”

The feeling of regret from raising his voice at Flaky the way he did earlier returned to bite him once more, so he shook his head and offered a genuine smile, “Don’t worry about it, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Flippy rubbed at his neck momentarily and averted his eyes from hers before continuing, “I apologise for snapping at you like that, I’m dealing with some personal issues right now, but I shouldn't have taken my stress out on you.”

Flaky didn't expect openness and sincerity in his response. She stared into space, toying with a lock of her long quills again, a self-soothing habit Flippy recognised from the start.

After seconds that felt like minutes had passed, the porcupine blinked out of her stupor to meet his eyes. In his expression was an unspoken glint of intrigue as he patiently watched and waited for her to exit his pickup truck. Unfortunately, in her dishevelled and tired state, Flaky only saw confusion and judgment in the green bear's expression.

The passenger door opened with a click. Flaky exited and gently closed the door as she turned to face Flippy once more. The bear held her gaze for as long as she did when she waved shyly. He didn’t hesitate to wave back and watched as she hastily retreated to the apartment block.

Seeing her smile at him just then with such gratitude for his help, while embracing bruises like they were nothing to feel concerned about, left an awful feeling in his chest.

Flippy only shifted his focus on the road once more when Flaky safely entered the middle tower block.

The multiple questions that he’d forced himself to leave unsaid weighed heavily on his mind, paired with an unpleasant gut feeling that the girl might only be temporarily safe where she is now. But he knew he had no time to sit and dwell on the lives of strangers, Flippy needed to get to his friend's house and be done with tonight.

With his friend’s home in sight at the end of the street, Flippy slowed down and quietly parked by the old wooden fencing surrounding the house. When he shut off the engine, Flippy took a moment to assess.

He spotted a dark motorcycle beside his friend's car in the garage. But it didn't belong to his friend. It was one he was very familiar with, and looking at it made his stomach drop.

Flippy wanted to turn back before it was too late. Before they noticed his arrival. But he knew he'd miss out on closure. His friend knew where to find Flippy if he avoided the situation, so the bear disregarded all thoughts about ditching him in the last minute.

With his ignored phone feeling like a burning weight inside his pocket, and his palms tightly latched onto the steering wheel to ground himself, Flippy took a moment to breathe. Then, after a few deep breaths and an internal debate, he pocketed his truck keys before exiting.

Flippy realized his friend stayed awake to wait for his arrival, noticing the dim lights showing through the gaps of the curtains. Unfortunately for the green bear, he'd only find out if the owner of the black bike had done the same when he conjured up the will to step through the door.

He turned the doorknob slowly, keeping his noise to a minimum. If he could succeed in a last-ditch effort to sneak in unnoticed and avoid them both entirely until sunrise, Flippy refused to miss that opportunity.

The pungent aroma of burning marijuana engulfed his senses as soon as he opened the door an inch. Knowing his friend only smoked in his kitchen, Flippy saw a chance to aim straight for the stairs after quietly shutting the door behind him.

But before he could turn and make his ascent, the sound of boots lazily stepping towards him halted the bear entirely.

“All those years of stealth training in the military and you still can’t sneak around to save your life.”

Flippy’s body went still, and a cold chill raced through the blood in his veins.

He didn’t turn around immediately, hoping that somehow, he could ignore the owner of the deep, husky voice. One that reminded him of home, yet brought an indescribable feeling of pain.

The green bear made a silent prayer to himself, one that he hoped would grant him the strength and patience to face the person behind him.

With a sigh of defeat, followed by a forced smile, Flippy begrudgingly spun on his heel to greet his twin brother,

“Hello, Fletcher.”

Chapter Text

His twin’s roguish grin still looked as cunning as Flippy remembered, even after their five years apart. Looking at his brother used to be like looking in a mirror when they were young bears, if you ignored Fletcher’s menacing, acid-yellow eyes – a stark difference to Flippy’s charming blue ones. Now, as adults, it didn't take much to tell the twins apart. Just one look at the jagged array of scars that decorated Fletcher's face was enough.

“Flippy! Long time no see,” Fletcher beamed at Flippy, opening his arms expectantly, “Now stop looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost and give me a hug.”

Even though he would rather run for the hills, Flippy stepped closer and allowed his twin to pull him into a crushing hug. The smell of marijuana lingered on Fletcher’s clothes, so it became clear to Flippy why his brother greeted him with an uncharacteristically welcoming nature.

When their awkward one-sided embrace ended, Flippy didn’t get a chance to step away as Fletcher’s arm wrapped around his shoulders like a vice, leading him to the kitchen against his will.

“So, our good friend Splendid told me you’ve been ignoring him all night, yet here you are. We didn’t think you’d show up at all.” Fletcher said, flashing a half smirk.

Flippy rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother’s sarcastic tone to remain civil, “I was caught up on the road. I’d have gotten here much earlier otherwise.”

Fletcher patted Flippy’s shoulder before releasing him and chuckled as he entered the kitchen, “Of course, because we both know that you wouldn’t dream of missing out on reuniting with your flesh and blood after so long, right?”

The scar-speckled twin didn't wait for an answer, returning to his seat at the table to reach for his joint. Their friend, a sky-blue squirrel, had his back to them, busy with cooking by his stove, the smell of the food partially masked by smoke. Music blared from the stereo on the table by the ashtray, but the squirrel didn't miss the sound of Flippy's arrival, thanks to his naturally honed super-senses.

“Lose your phone or something, Flip?” the squirrel asked, keeping his attention on the stir-fry sizzling in his wok.

Flippy wanted to skip all the petty mockery from the two and cut to the chase. He pulled out the chair opposite to Fletcher’s at the table and sat down, retrieving a cigarette from his pack and lighting it.

“I thought you'd be in prison for another five years, Fletcher,” Flippy started, his scrutinising glare assessing them both as he took his first drag, “How did you get out?”

The acid-eyed twin only chuckled at Flippy’s question, slowly inhaling the last drags of his joint before snuffing it out in the ashtray. Splendid peered at the two bears over his shoulder, and Flippy clocked his sheepish expression before he could look away in time.

Irritable from their silence, Flippy narrowed his eyes at the two males, “Why are you both avoiding my question?”

The squirrel removed his wok from the stove and placed it to the side, hesitantly bringing his attention to Flippy, “Does it matter? I thought you’d be more relieved to see your brother out of prison. Fletcher certainly is.”

Flippy sighed, “Tell me how you got him out first,” another blip of silence from the two left him speculating the possibilities. Then a worrying thought occurred, “Hold on... Splendid, tell me you haven’t ruined your life by breaking him out of there.”

Splendid scoffed, “Do you think I’m stupid? Of course I didn’t,” he turned his back on the twins to reach for three bowls out of the cupboard, “…I bailed him out.”

With suspicion and doubt swirling in his gut, Flippy's eyes darted to Fletcher. He was nonchalantly toying with the beloved Bowie knife he recently reunited with, the exquisitely crafted blade shimmered under the harsh lighting of the kitchen.

It had been under the safe possession of Splendid for five years, but it had always remained glued to his hip, even before they'd both enrolled in the military.

During their years of service, an incident that'd occurred during an overnight operation sparked an unfortunate chain of events. A member of their squad – found brutally murdered. But with high suspicion of foul play. It'd been a shocking discovery, more so when Fletcher wasted no time in claiming full responsibility for the deceased soldier, leading to his dishonourable discharge and ten-year prison sentence.

Months had passed after Fletcher's dismissal, and Flippy‘s performance during combat operations began to stagnate, almost costing his own life and the lives of his comrades.

Eventually, having served more than the minimum number of years, Flippy resigned from the military. Serving their country was the childhood dream they both shared as young boys, so without Fletcher fighting by his side, Flippy felt like a piece of him was always absent.

Ironically, the twins now sit face-to-face. Five years earlier than expected. But with an air of bitterness between them instead of familial love.

Splendid tried to avoid all eye contact with Flippy when he placed down their three bowls, now filled with his stir fry – a longtime favourite of the twins. He hoped it would alleviate the tension in their atmosphere and paint smiles over their frowns.

The twin bears glanced down at their bowls, silently appreciating the fragrant blend of spices in the steam, and Splendid's skill in cooking it to perfection every time.

Mutually eager to enjoy the stir-fry, fuelled more so by their post-smoke munchies, Fletcher and Splendid didn't hesitate to start eating. But Flippy didn't share their hunger, unfinished with prying into Splendid's method in paying a hefty amount of money for Fletcher’s bail, given his unstable financial circumstances.

“So, you bailed him out, is that right?” Flippy asked, prodding at the noodles and vegetables with his fork.

Fletcher shot him a warning look, silently instructing his brother not to interrupt his meal. But Flippy ignored it, and quizzed Splendid, “Where the hell did you get that kind of money–"

“Shut up and eat your damn food,” Fletcher interrupted, pointing his fork at Flippy’s face far too closely for his liking, “I suffered eating the foulest prison slop they called food for five fucking years, and I want to enjoy this. In silence.”

The abrupt shift in Fletcher's tone made Flippy drop his adamant curiosity. Splendid kept his eyes low as he savoured his food, knowing better than to disturb his scarred friend while he ate. Flippy held his composure, even with his brother’s fork inches away from his face, refusing to let Fletcher’s aggression get the better of him.

When it came to their disagreements, their stubbornness matched. They'd stare each other down, waiting to see who would crack first. But the blue-eyed bear’s heart has always been the softest of the two, so to keep their peace Flippy would often be the first to back down. This time was no exception – he lacked the energy for a potential argument with his grumpy twin.

With an exasperated sigh, Flippy gently redirected Fletcher’s fork-brandishing hand back towards his side of the table, silently admitting his defeat. Then he focused on finishing his meal as quickly as he could. Flippy knew his opportunity to interrogate Splendid about his mysterious funds would occur eventually.

After rushing the last of his stir-fry, Flippy exited his place at the table and moved to the sink to wash his bowl. The tension in their atmosphere had gone beyond the point of tolerable for the blue-eyed twin. He only hoped Fletcher wouldn't find a way to stall his sleep when he left for the bedroom.

With his bowl and cutlery washed and slotted in the drainer by the sink, Flippy aimed for the stairs again, mumbling, “Thanks for the food, Splendid.”

With his mouth full of food, the squirrel only nodded in response. Fletcher watched as his twin left the kitchen without saying a word to him. He would've called him out on the matter, but held his tongue instead.

Now that the two of them were without Flippy’s presence once more, Fletcher turned his attention to Splendid. The squirrel was about to leave the table with his empty bowl in hand when the rugged bear halted him with his words.

“Why didn’t you tell me there’s something wrong with Flippy?” Fletcher asked.

At his question, Splendid looked vaguely surprised for a moment before responding with one of his own, “You don’t know?”

Fletcher wanted to scoff at him, but he merely frowned and shook his head, waiting for what he had to say. It baffled him that his friend could act like he hadn't been serving his prison sentence for the past five years. Right up until recently, when the ex-hero so heroically helped him get out of there with the aid of some illegal stunt – one he refused to disclose with either of the bears thus far.

Fletcher could only assume his twin never admitted to Splendid that two years into his time behind bars, Flippy severed their communication. Even after sending multiple letters to reach out to his brother, Fletcher never got to find out why Flippy stopped writing back.

It angered him to feel cast aside by his brother, after everything they'd been through. After everything he'd done for Flippy. Fletcher sacrificed his climb up the ranks in the military for him. He went to prison for him. But the rugged bear knew it would take more than the depraved experience of a violent prison to break him, so Fletcher embraced it.

Flippy was none the wiser when Fletcher directed the anger he'd caused onto his fellow inmates, who were unfortunate enough to be in the scarred bear's vicinity when he lashed out. Pure rage boiled him from the inside whenever he tried to grasp how Flippy could dare to cut him off the way he did.

Fletcher refrained from allowing those awful feelings to resurface in that moment. Splendid granted him the chance for freedom, so he was more than willing to forget how Flippy made him feel at his lowest, hoping to rekindle their brotherly bond again.

Splendid propped his bowl into the sink, but halted before starting any washing up. Seeing Fletcher confused and unaware of the reason behind Flippy’s downtrodden behaviour made him return to his seat.

The squirrel’s expression twisted into worry as he tried to explain with the right words, “Well... About a year ago, Flippy and Giggles separated.”

Fletcher perked up with interest, all thoughts of negativity banishing before they had the chance to drag him down and dampen his mood.

“For real? Tell me who did the dumping,” Fletcher started, trying not to grin too much at this news, “Did he finally see her for what she truly is behind all of that preppy bullshit?”

Splendid smirked, more out of amusement than anything else, as he was no stranger to hearing Fletcher’s slander towards Giggles. The squirrel always preferred to keep out of his friend’s relationships, especially when things went sour. But it was oddly refreshing for the squirrel to learn that Fletcher never stopped despising Flippy’s now ex-girlfriend, even behind bars.

Splendid forced a neutral expression when he sensed the bear’s rising enthusiasm to hear details about his brother’s breakup. He wouldn't allow himself to mindlessly spill too much of someone else’s business without their presence and permission.

Once again, Splendid left the table and returned to the dishes he still needed to clean, “Yeah, Flippy did the breaking up, but that’s all I’m saying. If you want the gritty details you should talk to him about it, Fletch.”

With a huff of annoyance, Fletcher reached for his drink to wash down his meal, only setting the glass back when it was empty, “How boring. ‘Been locked up in a shit hole for five years and you’re gonna sit there and be stingy with the gossip.”

The ex-hero gave no response as he added Fletcher’s empty bowl and glass to the sink, then he rolled up his sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes. Fletcher refused to beg for insight from his friend, knowing the main source of all he needed to hear was upstairs. He was almost certain that he'd find his twin smoking out of an open window, brooding and wallowing in self-pity over a girl that he tried to warn him about a long time ago.

Upon arriving outside their shared guest room, Fletcher pressed an ear against the door, listening for anything to indicate Flippy hadn't fallen asleep yet. Upon hearing no sound whatsoever, he quietly opened the door. The lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. From where he stood in the doorway, Fletcher assessed the two single beds on opposite sides of the room.

Fletcher didn't know how to feel when he noticed the room hadn't changed after all the years. Memories from the years when the trio were inseparable came flooding back, hitting Fletcher with a wave of nostalgia.

Carefree years of their friendship, before the twins left to enrol into the armed forces. Splendid had always kept his spare room ready for the bears, as they'd often stay over at the end of their late nights of debauchery.

Fletcher furrowed his brows as he further inspected what he could in the dark. An untouched empty bed to the right, one Fletcher always favoured. The bed on the left is where he found Flippy, wrapped in the covers. As he quietly stepped towards his twin’s bed to ensure he wasn't pretending to be asleep, something on Flippy’s bedside table caught his eye.

Fletcher left his brother be in that moment, turning to the picture frame that lay face down. Curiously, he picked it up to see what it was that Flippy didn't want to look at. No surprise to Fletcher, there she was.

The pink chipmunk who grated every last nerve in his body. His grip on the picture frame tightened the more he allowed himself to look at the girl. Her bright but deceitful smile never failed to infuriate Fletcher, because he knew the real person she so cleverly kept hidden away from everyone.

When he looked down at his sleeping twin, Fletcher put the picture back, resisting the screaming urge to throw it across the room. Fletcher didn't want to look at her before going to sleep. Not unless he wanted another one of his many graphic dreams of ending the girl’s life.

The scarred bear kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his jacket. Then he chuckled menacingly, giving in to the temptation of envisioning himself tearing the pink-furred girl to shreds with his bare hands, in the endless ways his mind could conjure.

When he settled into bed, Fletcher looked towards Flippy once more. Even though he felt thrilled to learn of their separation, Fletcher didn't quite feel satisfied about the situation just yet.

He knew his brother too well, aways generous when giving Giggles more chances than she deserved. For Flippy to have ended things with the chipmunk, Fletcher could tell she'd done something severe – he felt determinated to find out what.

~ ~ ~

Enveloped in a serene silence, Flaky submerged deeper into the bath, surrounded by bubbles that emitted a calming vanilla scent. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the porcupine felt the tension in her limbs slowly begin to dissipate. But not enough to relax 

While her body submitted to the soothing heat with ease, her mind refused to switch off, stuck in survival mode.

She dared to look down at her wrists, to see the bruises and stinging grazes that encircled them, and relive what had happened. Instead, she pushed her hands back below the water level, shielding the injuries beneath the bubbles.

Flaky longed to disappear, envisioning the bath as an endless ocean under a clear blue sky. The thought of floating forever, the freedom of being unleashed from the shackles around her heart and mind, made her take a deep breath, squeeze her eyes shut, then lean back to submerge herself entirely below the water.

For as long as the porcupine could hold the air in her lungs, she embraced the muffling silence the water granted, drowning out any unpleasant thoughts before they had the chance to suffocate her.

The tranquillity didn't last long. Her fleeting thoughts raced to fill the silence, bringing her most troubling memories to the forefront of her mind, tricking her senses into believing she never escaped danger.

A minute passed, and Flaky still hadn't resurfaced to breathe. Even with darkness shielding her vision, she couldn't evade the flashbacks looming in her head.

The suffocatingly tight ropes around her wrists. The loud hum of an engine that rumbled beneath her. She still remembered the salty taste of her sweat and tears as they seeped into the rag tied around her mouth.

That horrifying memory made her blood run cold. A nauseating sensation barreled up from the pit of her stomach. Flaky thrashed in a panic, rushing out of the bath to make it to the toilet before vomiting.

Flaky waited on more tears to spill after throwing up nothing but bile, but felt too numb. Only the burning at the back of her throat, after painfully retching on an empty stomach, stopped Flaky disassociating to escape her tormenting thoughts.

“Flaky? Are you all right in there?” A small, concerned voice called from the other side of the door.

When Flaky didn't respond straight away, the girl on the other side of the bathroom door barged in without hesitation. With a towel in hand, the lilac sheep darted to the naked porcupine slumped over the toilet to shield her wet fur from a chill.

Lammy took one look at Flaky's hollow expression and had to fight back the buildup of tears. In all their years of friendship, she'd never seen her friend in such a harrowing state.

Lammy was grateful to have been awake when she'd received Flaky’s message, informing the sheep of her sudden arrival. She'd hurried out of bed to wait and watch from her balcony. Her worry only eased when she saw Flaky exit the pickup truck of a kind stranger.

When Flaky first entered the apartment, she'd struggled to find words to say to the sheep. But Lammy never demanded an explanation, and escorted Flaky to the bathroom to ease her into the bubble bath she'd prepared prior to Flaky’s arrival.

With gentle hands, Lammy gathered the damp locks of Flaky’s quills to wrap them in another towel, then smoothed back the ones clinging to her face. She never stopped embracing the red-furred girl’s trembling form until her silent sobbing ceased, not at all bothered by how wet her clothes were becoming.

When Flaky finally met Lammy’s deep violet eyes, she saw the worry that painted her soft features as she assessed the bruise around her eye, and it brought a stinging feeling of guilt.

Instinctively, Flaky wrapped the towel around her body to conceal the other injuries that she'd become accustomed to hiding well. But when she tried to avoid Lammy’s horrified gape, Flaky felt the sheep’s hands softly grasp the sides of her face to steal her attention.

“Please, Flaky,” Lammy begged, eyes glossy with fresh tears, “Please don’t go back to him.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Flaky’s sleep is disturbed by the caress of a warm strip of sunlight peering through the curtains. The covers she'd cocooned herself in still held the dampness from her cold sweats during the night. Tiredly, Flaky grimaced and rolled on her back, throwing the covers to the side.

After minutes of staring vacantly at the ceiling, mentally scraping for the motivation to move from the bed, the sudden sweet smell of Lammy’s cooking stirred up her senses, kick-starting her empty stomach into motion. But the growling churn of hunger that followed felt painful.

Food was the last thing on her mind, but Flaky knew she had to eat something – she struggled to recall the last time she'd eaten a proper meal.

Sluggishly, the porcupine pushed herself to her feet. As she trudged her tired legs through Lammy’s apartment, Flaky longed to go back to bed and disappear under the covers once more.

When Lammy spotted the silhouette of Flaky’s sleep-dishevelled quills looming down the hall, she stacked two freshly made pancakes from the pan onto a plate and propped them on the kitchen island.

Ready for the day, Lammy wore a waitress uniform. A button-down dress in a pleasant shade of orange that flowed down just above the knee, with a pale, pocketed apron tied around her waist. Judging by her friend's hasty movements around the kitchen, and a white denim jacket draped over one arm, Flaky guessed she'd be heading out soon.

“Good morning, Flaky!” Lammy beamed, watching as the porcupine pulled out a stool and sat before the plate of pancakes. The sheep finished the last dregs of her coffee before continuing, “Did you sleep okay?”

Flaky rubbed her eyes and forced a smile, “I think so.”

The porcupine withheld the truth, that she'd spent most of her sleepless night tossing and turning, falling in and out of night terrors. Then as Flaky turned her attention to spooning a drizzle of honey over her pancakes, Lammy’s bright smile faltered slightly when she noticed the dark circles around her friend’s eyes.

With little time left before her shift started, Lammy approached to give Flaky a tight hug, “Don’t feel bad if you spend most of the day in bed, Flaky. You already know you are more than welcome to.”

Unconditional kindness from the sheep made Flaky's eyes well up slightly, and she hugged her a little more tightly before letting go. “Thank you, Lammy... I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Lammy’s lip trembled as she watched Flaky wipe away her tears, “Aw, come on now, don’t you get emotional on me, Flakes,” she then pressed the tips of her dainty fingers under her violet eyes, blocking the small spill of tears from reaching her mascara, “I don’t wanna go to work with panda eyes!”

After slipping her arms into her denim jacket and fixing up her fluffy white curls, Lammy’s eyes darted to the clock on the kitchen wall, “Oh crap, I need to get moving,” She then grabbed her bag and scrambled for the front door, shouting back what she'd ran out of time to say before shutting it behind her, “I have a spare key to my apartment on my dresser for you! I’ll see you later, Flakes!”

Silence filled the apartment when Lammy left. Flaky spent the next few minutes prodding a fork at her food. The hollow pangs of hunger unfortunately subsided the moment she was alone. Lammy’s honey-glazed, homemade pancakes looked delicious, but Flaky’s appetite vanished when anxiety returned to plague her.

After abandoning her breakfast, Flaky’s bare feet padded across the apartment in a hurry as she went to ensure the door was securely locked. It was, of course, but she needed that extra reassurance.

Flaky frowned at nothing as she paced around the apartment, trying to remember where she'd left her phone upon arriving the night before. A ravenous surge of dread kept her on edge when she thought about the horrible things that awaited her attention there. So, before she could sit and try to enjoy Lammy’s generously made breakfast, the porcupine didn't end her frantic hunt until her phone was in her possession.

Underneath the bed that she'd slept in is where Flaky eventually found it. Hesitantly, Flaky’s trembling fingers typed in her password to unlock the screen, only to see a thread of several vicious text messages.

‘YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH.’

‘You think this is all over because you got away?’

‘Tell me where you are. Right fucking now.’

Flaky had to steady herself against the nearest surface when her knees went weak. She began anxiously chewing her bottom lip, forcing herself to scroll to the more recent message that she received less than an hour ago.

‘You better start praying that I don’t find you first, because when I get my hands on you again, I’m gonna finish what I started.’

A crippling jolt of fear struck her instantly. The beating of her heart skyrocketed. Amidst a sudden shriek of white noise that pierced her eardrums, she only heard the rapid thumping of her pulse.

Flaky dropped the phone on the hard flooring of Lammy’s living room and backed away. Her wide-eyed stare never left the device, as if the cruel sender of those texts could jump straight out of the screen.

An awful swell of nausea gathered in the pit of her stomach, melting away her frozen state of shock. Then she hurriedly stumbled through Lammy’s apartment with an urgency to find any tools she owned.

Flaky eventually came across a toolbox and retrieved a hammer, perfect for what she intended to do. With a firm grip on the rubber handle, she stormed back to where her phone was.

The fear that clung to her nerves since reading the texts morphed into anger when she focused on the weight of the steel hammer. Something deep in her soul snapped.

Gone were the fear-induced instincts that drove her into submission, replaced by a growing surge of resistance against the demands from the man she once loved.

She escaped from him. She's free.

But whenever her eyes lingered too long on the last text, with words that carried the promise of a fate worse than death, that familiar feeling of hopelessness tried to claw its way back to drag her down and suffocate her under an endless whirlpool of denial.

A poison-laced voice in the back of her mind tried convincing Flaky that she could never live without him. That if she goes back to him now, he will be on his knees begging forgiveness after what he'd done, arms open with a promise of affection, not harm.

A neverending toxic cycle. One Flaky had accepted she would endure for the rest of her life. But not anymore.

Flaky dropped to her knees, ignoring the turmoil within her mind. With the hammer tightly in hand and raised high above her head, she surrendered to the flood of rage that spilled into her veins.

Cold metal collided with glass and emitted a satisfying crack. The screen shattered under the force of the impact. The harrowing text thread, forever banished, replaced by a fractured mess of colour. But it was not enough.

With each strike came a feeling of release. Even as her mind tortured her with the horrors she could endure if he found her, Flaky willed the surge of adrenaline to simmer by mentally affirming herself that she'd survived.

By now Flaky’s phone was beyond the point of repair. She only halted when she came back to her senses enough to remember that Lammy’s home was above, below and between neighbours of a high-rise apartment block – ones that would have every right to complain about the noise.

When Flaky’s irrational anger subsided, a heavy fog of fatigue loomed over her. She returned the hammer to its toolbox, then discarded the broken phone with an effort to leave no trace of it behind. Only after it was in the trash and out of sight and mind did Flaky allow herself to collapse onto Lammy’s plush sofa.

The thought of cutting all contact granted Flaky a moment of solace. The question of whether it would stop him from trying to find her – she feared only time would give the answer.

Flaky had become so accustomed to his tainted personality. From his explosive temperament to his possessiveness. Nothing could convince her to believe he will move on from her escape. She'd stood by him through all of his crimes, all of his worst moments, blinded by her forgiving nature. Always searching and waiting for signs of the good in him that she once fell in love with.

When he continued to carve a darker path in his life, Flaky became powerless. Trapped in a life of deceit and corruption and murder. Unable to do anything but endure the harsh changes that shaped their relationship’s downward spiral.

Flaky attempted to block her racing thoughts, embracing the welcoming fragrance of her friend’s home that lingered on the soft fabric.

After shutting her eyes and nestling into a comfortable position on Lammy’s plum-coloured sofa, Flaky realised just how much she'd missed her friend. Being in Lammy’s apartment after struggling to see her for so long made it difficult for Flaky to feel that she was there for real.

The safe and peaceful silence of Lammy’s home beckoned the tired porcupine to fall asleep. Night terrors had consumed the majority of Flaky’s sleep, so she couldn't resist shutting her heavy eyes to drift off into an undisturbed rest.

~ ~ ~

With the afternoon slowly approaching, Fletcher peered into the spare bedroom to see if Flippy was finally awake. Even on his third check later, he was still in a deep sleep. By this point, the bear was becoming impatient about catching up with his twin, considering the three years of silence between them – something else he was determined to understand.

Fletcher marched over to the curtains and threw them open, hoping the sunlight would disturb his sleep. But it made no difference. Then with the help of the light, he spotted a blank pill bottle on Flippy’s bedside table.

A concerning thought sprung to mind, so Fletcher didn't hesitate to shake his brother vigorously, “Wake up, goddammit.”

This time, to Fletcher’s relief, his twin did wake up. But he immediately expressed annoyance.

“Will you stop it?” Flippy grumbled tiredly, swatting away his brother’s scarred hands before reaching to pull the covers over his head.

Fletcher was relieved to know his intrusive assumption that Flippy had done something drastic with those pills wasn't true. Despite this, Fletcher still had to grit his teeth to keep a firm leash on his temper; he knew Flippy wouldn't be so inclined to speak to him at all if he snapped. Instead, Fletcher swiftly tugged on the covers before his twin could hide himself.

“The Flippy that I remember was always an early bird, but now he’s wasting a perfect day by sleeping it away.” He leaned down and flashed a half smile at his twin before continuing, “Meet me downstairs when you come to your senses, yeah? We need to talk.”

Flippy didn't move an inch when Fletcher had left. He ruminated ways he could avoid speaking with his brother as he stared at the ceiling, but all his ideas fell flat. Flippy's sleep-heavy eyes dared to close again, the comfort of the bed luring his body into slumbering again.

The bear sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then he dragged himself from under the covers to check the wardrobe. When Flippy found their old emergency stash of spare clothes and picked garments that were his, he grabbed a clean towel and trudged towards the bathroom.

Flippy convinced himself to face Fletcher and withstand an endless interrogation from him after freshening up, but only with the idea to get it over with as quickly as possible and head back to his motel to relish in his solitude once more.

The water was pleasant and soothing as he bathed himself. Hot showers had become the only source of external warmth he had the luxury of feeling in recent times, so he savoured the duration of the shower and allowed the steady pitter-patter of water to engulf his senses.

When he was soap-free, clean, and willing to step out of the sweet solace of the shower, Flippy finished in the bathroom to make his way downstairs.

Nothing but silence greeted the bear as he left the bathroom. A quick glance at Splendid's open bedroom door revealed an empty room. Flippy assumed the squirrel took himself elsewhere, leaving him alone to converse with Fletcher.

Flippy couldn't shake his unease, struggling to predict the nature of the conversation he was about to have with his brother. He mustered all composure to remain civil with Fletcher, no matter what he may have to say. 

Flippy kept in mind that his hot-tempered brother could very well be pent up with every flavor of anger since prison. Knowing he'd stopped writing to Fletcher, having collected his unanswered written letters to form pile of shame on his table, Flippy realized his twin had every right to feel such a way towards him.

When he reached the living room, he found Fletcher resting on one of the leather sofas, arms folded behind his head. Flippy thought the bear might have dozed off while waiting for him, but when he silently approached, Fletcher peeled an eye open to assess him.

A mirthless smirk tugged at his scarred lips, “Took you long enough.”

“Let’s just make this as quick as possible,” Flippy started, sitting down on the opposite sofa to offer his full attention, “Go ahead.”

Fletcher’s smirk faltered slightly. He sat up and reached behind the small square cushion he'd been resting against to retrieve something. Disgust plastered across Fletcher’s face as he handled the item, before dropping it carelessly on the table between them.

Shock replaced Flippy’s calm expression when he saw the picture frame that still held the photo of Giggles. Did Fletcher know?

But then a sudden realisation dawned on the blue-eyed bear. Splendid didn't leave to avoid them both – he left only to avoid Flippy. In that moment, it became obvious to him that Splendid revealed enough to Fletcher during the previous night for him to find out about their breakup – a conversation that Flippy was not ready to have with his brother.

“I dumped her. Are you happy now?” Flippy shrugged, biting back the irritation in his voice.

Fletcher tried to withhold his smug grin, “...You already know the answer to that question.”

The blue-eyed twin rolled his eyes, “Right. Is this conversation done now? I don't feel like talking as it is, especially if it's about her.”

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed as he watched Flippy stand up to leave, “So this is all I’m gonna get from you after five years? The cold shoulder?” The yellow-eyed twin spat, his arms folding with resentment as he sat back against the sofa again.

Flippy pinched the space between his eyes to suppress the strain behind them, and then he exhaled deeply thought his nose. He didn't want to discuss his break up so soon with Fletcher.

Despite the chaos that ensued when he'd confessed his decision to end things with Giggles, thanks to the chipmunk's stubborn attempts to make him change his mind, Flippy coped with their separation well. It was a decision of his own, after all. Slowly falling out of love with Giggles during the last years of their relationship made it very easy for the bear to move on.

Soon after the break up, Giggles had spitefully refused to leave his home, admitting she had nowhere else to go. Regardless of everything she'd done to make him feel hollow and worthless, the goodness in Flippy's heart made it difficult for him to consider kicking her out on the streets, so he allowed her to stay – but only temporarily.

They managed all about a month coping under the same roof; sleeping in separate rooms and avoiding each other as much as possible. But within that month, Flippy realised he needed space from Giggles, to try and feel like himself again.

Since then, the motel on the outskirts of town has been the place he called home while he tried to heal alone, and while Giggles tried to find her own place to live.

At least, that was the initial agreement. Weeks turned to months, and the months turned to a year. Giggles never found another place to live. Flippy teetered on the idea of moving to another town for a fresh start. Finding a new home, leaving his old one behind for Giggles. It wouldn't have been difficult for him to achieve this, having plentiful funds left over from the lump sum he received after leaving the military.

However, Fletcher’s arrival back into his life so suddenly threw a wrench into his plans moving forward. The house he'd almost considered leaving behind for Giggles held too much history, being the family home of the twin bears before their parent’s passing.

Flippy didn't need to guess how Fletcher would've reacted upon learning what he almost intended to do with their home. But knowing that was an ordeal he'd luckily avoided, Flippy figured his brother deserved an explanation.

So, Flippy stopped in his tracks and returned to the sofa. He didn't often feel shame, but as he muddled over ways to confess the full extent of his situation with Giggles, the words felt heavy and foul before he could spit them out.

“…She wasn't faithful to me, Fletcher... For much longer than I'd thought. That’s why I dumped her.”

As he admitted this, Flippy felt each word chip away at the lead weight baring down on his chest, and when the wound on his heart started to reopen from this disturbance, his eyes began to well up.

Flippy expected Fletcher to erupt with unbridled fury after hearing what Giggles had done. But he sat in silence, only a distant look in his menacing eyes.

Fletcher’s thoughts became a whirlwind when his mind scrambled to piece together a timeline of what he'd learned thus far. Turbulent anger thrashed from within as he watched Flippy wipe away his silent tears.

“Is she the reason you stopped writing to me?” Fletcher quietly asked, but no response came from Flippy – he would've looked lifeless with his face cradled in his hands if not for slight trembles of his broad shoulders with each quiet sob.

His blue-eyed, soft-spoken twin was blessed with a pure soul and a heart of gold, something that Fletcher accepted he lacked within himself since the beginning. Fletcher knew Flippy had tendencies to love blindly and unconditionally, an unfortunate weakness. One that backfired on him countless times in his life.

Flippy had given his heart to the pink-furred girl on a shimmering, silver platter, only for her to then orchestrate perfectly what Fletcher had predicted from the start. She crushed his heart under the weight of her selfish actions. The scarred bear hated that he was itching to say the words 'I told you so'.

Fletcher could no longer stomach sitting across from Flippy, seeing the sorrowful husk of the cheerful man he used to be. It took all of Fletcher’s strength to subside his rage for the sake of his twin’s vulnerability. He moved from his seat on the sofa to sit next to Flippy, offering a firm, half-embrace in hopes of providing some comfort to his tearful brother.

A whirlwind of questions to learn more about what Flippy had been going through during his absence fought its way forward, but he battled his burning curiosity by gritting his teeth.

For now, Fletcher refrained from prying too much and reopening more wounds. Instead, the yellow-eyed bear allowed his brother to bury his face into his shoulder until there were no tears left for him to cry.

~ ~ ~

When Lammy returned home from work later that evening, the apartment welcomed her with darkness and silence. Expecting to arrive back and find Flaky awake stirred the worry she'd bottled up for the whole duration of her shift. Lammy didn't want to jump to the conclusion that Flaky left her apartment at this time – especially if it was to go back to him – but the silence within her home raised panic in the sheep.

Lammy skimmed through her rooms to switch on all the lights, hoping to spot the familiar crimson of her friend’s quills. Her heart was beating frantically by the time she reached her living room, but when she switched on the light, a flush of relief swept away her fears.

Lammy found Flaky curled up on her sofa, snoring ever so softly in a deep sleep. With her nerves eased by the sight of her friend still within the safety of her home, Lammy smiled warmly at Flaky as she slept.

At first, she debated waking her up to see if she'd prefer sleeping in her guest room again. But seeing the peaceful expression on the porcupine’s sleeping face made the sheep retrieve one of her many plush blankets to gently drape over Flaky instead, not wanting to disrupt her rest.

Before she could freshen up before bed, Lammy’s growling stomach had her quietly padding towards her kitchen to fix up a snack. Her heart sank when she realised that the pancakes she'd made for Flaky that morning had gone untouched. Sadly, Lammy disposed of the cold food and quietly slotted the plate into her dishwasher for the morning.

Lammy was understanding and accepting of the fact that she couldn't force her friend into doing something that she didn't want to do. But that would never stop Lammy from offering things that are important to Flaky's well-being. That included eating and having a place to stay amongst other things.

But, having glimpsed first-hand the remnants of a dark, purple bruise around Flaky's eye – and already aware of the culprit – Lammy drew a line at Flaky withholding the true nature of the relationship with the man she'd fled from.

Chapter Text

For the rest of the day in Splendid’s home, the twins fell into occasional conversations, brushing over topics of what happened in their lives during their five years apart. Fletcher found enough sympathy within himself to avoid treading on the more unpleasant subjects – specifically Giggles – but he figured Flippy will tell him more on the matter when he felt ready.

By the evening, their atmosphere felt unusually pleasant, which surprised them both, considering the prior tension during their first reunion. As they each sipped a beer from Splendid’s fridge – certain that he wouldn't mind – they enjoyed an evening of nostalgia by re-watching their favourite classic war movies, ones that first sparked their interest in the military as boys.

They had a moment of amusement while reminiscing when Flippy couldn't help but wonder why their parents allowed them to watch such movies at a young age. Fletcher reminded Flippy of their mischievous tendencies when their parents slept, how they'd often sneak out of bed to silently rummage through their father's stash of VHS films.

Two movies later, the bears struggled to open their eyes and decided to call it a night. While sharing the effort of tidying up Splendid’s home before going to their beds, Flippy stopped to ponder for a moment.

Before locking the front door, he turned back to Fletcher, looking slightly concerned, “Splendid didn’t come home all day. Where is he?”

Not as interested in knowing the ex-hero’s whereabouts, Fletcher passively shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry too much, Flip. I’m sure he took his key with him.”

Flippy didn't bother to press further. He locked the door with the spare key and retreated upstairs after his brother.

The twins freshened up, taking turns in using the only bathroom in Splendid’s small home. Then, after tiredly mumbling goodnight to each other, they drifted off shortly after in their beds.

They awoke next morning, expecting to find Splendid at home again, assuming he would've returned during their sleep. Both twins left for the kitchen to fuel themselves with coffee, and noticed the silence of the home. Seeing Splendid's vacant bedroom, and everything in the state they'd left it before going to bed made it easy for them to agree that Splendid never returned.

Still sluggish with the residue of sleep in his limbs, Fletcher relied on his muscle memory to prep for their coffees. Flippy took a seat and checked his phone to see if Splendid had left him any sort of message about what he'd been up to. But he only found the chain messages from Splendid that he'd ignored on the night he left the motel.

Fletcher murmured to himself as he scanned Splendid’s fridge for milk, “That super-bozo better not come back here without more food, ‘cause I’m about to cook up what’s left in his fridge.”

While Fletcher continued to rummage through the scarce contents of the fridge, Flippy said nothing, silently typing a message to send to Splendid,

‘You left the country or something? Where are you?'

The blue-eyed twin found himself speculating too deeply into their friend’s whereabouts. Knowing the full extent of Splendid’s financial struggles after being forced to hang up his cape and mask, Flippy worried about Splendid more than he would ever admit. The bear struggled to believe his troubled friend was keeping himself off the radar.

Regardless, Flippy had known him long enough, and believes Splendid is far too loyal as their childhood friend to suddenly leave them in the dark about his life. But the more he tried to figure out how Splendid flawlessly helped Fletcher out of prison, the more he began to question the things he knew about the blue male.

The pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Flippy's nose, distracting him from his thoughts momentarily. To complete his early morning ritual he reached for his cigarettes, flipped the lid open, and removed one for himself. Then held out the pack towards Fletcher, who now sat across from him with their coffees in hand.

The pre-caffeine grumps vanished from Fletcher when Flippy offered him one of his cigarettes, and with a sleepy half-smile, he took one, “Don’t mind if I do.”

Little did Fletcher know, Flippy only prepped his brother in advance before he could dare to pry for information out of him, especially before his coffee could reach his system.

As the two bears sipped their coffees and smoked away their grogginess in silence, Fletcher assessed the strained frown on Flippy’s face as he looked at his phone.

“You good?” The rugged bear asked, smoke seeping from his scarred lips with each word.

After finding no reply from Splendid, Flippy placed his phone down and willed a less serious expression to show as he faced his brother, “Yeah, all good.” He then chuckled slightly, forcing a casual tone as he continued, “Why are you both so hush about how he got you out of prison?”

As the question rolled off his tongue, their atmosphere shifted in temperature. The newfound kernels of warmth between them slowly fizzled out again when Fletcher’s expression twisted with annoyance.

“Why do you only care so much about that, huh? Can’t you just be happy that I’m here?” Fletcher seethed, slamming down his mug and leaning back in his chair, distancing himself, "My expectations were too high when I assumed you’d be thrilled to see me out of that fuckin’ hell hole.”

Startled by his brother's rapid switch in tone, Flippy stumbled over his words, trying to regain some civility between them, “No, Fletch, I– I'm sorry. I'm just not myself as of late. I’m so glad to see you back here, I just-”

“Drop it then.” The yellow-eyed bear hissed, his large hands slamming on the table as he lunged forward to dangerously close the space between them, “Or do you want me to drag everything up that led to this? It’s taken you all this time to get over that shit from the night op with our old squad mates, surely you wanna keep it that way, right?”

Words carried by the venomous tone of his cold-hearted twin leeched the warmth in Flippy’s veins. When the sickening image of their blood-soaked, savagely dismembered comrade slipped through the barriers of his memory to invade his mind, Flippy’s mouth went dry.

Fletcher’s expression held no sympathy as he watched Flippy scowl at him in disgust. But when his outburst of anger subsided, the scarred bear’s irrational words echoed in his own head to fill the long silence between them. Seeing the horror in Flippy’s expression soon filled him with regret.

Fletcher slowly sat back in his chair and sighed, “Fuck… I’m sorry, Flip.”

Flippy debated snapping back at his brother or accepting their peace again, but they were both startled by the sound of Splendid’s front door slamming open. They instinctively prepared to defend themselves, but their alarm faded as fast as it came when a blue blur whizzed into the kitchen.

Splendid looked dishevelled and sweaty, wearing slacks and a button-down, sloppily half-fastened shirt. These were telling signs the squirrel had rushed his way back home for an unknown reason, one the twins both became interested in learning. There would've been no suspicion behind their curiosity had Splendid's unfamiliar clothing not caught their attention.

Fletcher stifled a laugh, “Splen, what the fuck are you wearing?”

Unamused, Flippy scrutinized the squirrel, “Yeah... What’s with the formal get-up?”

Splendid looked down at his clothes, “Oh, this? I, uhh…” The squirrel paused to think, “The girl I was with last night was a real freak, she tore my clothes off… literally. She lent me some of her boyfriend’s clothes.”

When Fletcher burst out laughing, Flippy noted the flash of relief on Splendid’s flustered face right before he laughed with him, but chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he rolled his eyes and left for the bedroom to get ready for the day.

Part of him felt appreciative of a distraction from Fletcher’s words before they sent him spiraling into the darkest pit of his mind, forcing him to relive his worst memory. Flippy accepted that he'd need patience before getting answers from the ex-hero about his unusually secretive behaviour.

Fletcher returned to his seat at the table to finish his coffee, smirking crudely, “You dirty sleaze bag. Hope you’re still not whining about being a single man after all these years, ‘cause you’re bringin' that shit on yourself.”

Splendid was unusually quiet after Fletcher’s remark, his ear twitching as he listened for the sound of Flippy’s footsteps reaching the top of the stairs. Only then did he let out the breath that he'd subconsciously held. He turned for his kitchen sink to run the cold tap, hurriedly splashing water onto his face.

The scarred bear raised a brow, sensing urgency in the hasty movements of his azure friend, “Did you get caught in the act or somethin’? Why are you all riled up?”

Splendid collapsed into the seat facing Fletcher’s, eyes darting to his kitchen doorway before meeting the bear’s inquisitive eyes, “Let’s hit the mall and grab a bite. Just me and you, okay?”

At Splendid’s hushed tone, amusement tugged Fletcher's lips, “With the way you’re acting right now, I'm getting a feeling that you and Flip are on bad terms.”

“No, Fletch, we’re fine. Please, just be ready to head out in ten.” After his firm instruction, Splendid left Fletcher alone at the table and hurried to his room before the bear had a chance to protest.

Fletcher's amused grin angled into an irritated half-snarl when Splendid dismissed and ordered him around. But he held his tongue, slowly setting down his empty mug before his urge to break something resulted in it shattering against a wall.

Considering that his squirrel friend is the sole reason he's no longer staring at the cold, damp walls of an oppressive prison cell, Fletcher allowed Splendid to get away with bossing him around. For now.

When his stomach rumbled, reminding him of his growing hunger, the scarred bear didn't protest against his friend's orders and left the kitchen.

Fletcher stopped outside the spare bedroom to enter, but he froze when the door opened from the other side, just as he reached for the handle. Flippy, now ready for the day, stood before Fletcher. Both bears blinked with surprise, almost mirroring each other’s actions.

Fletcher spoke first, “You dressed in a hurry. Got somewhere to be?”

At his pointed question, Flippy felt panic threaten to rise. Admitting his return to the motel would inch Fletcher into discovering that he hasn't been living in their late parents’ home. To make the situation worse, he'd allowed the person Fletcher despised the most live there.

Thinking quickly on the spot, wearing his best poker face, Flippy gave his answer, “I won’t be gone long, just grabbing some stuff from home to bring back to Splendid’s. We should stay over for a few more nights, just like old times.” He internally prayed that Fletcher wasn't about to invite himself to tag along.

The scarred bear paused briefly, then shrugged, “Sure, whatever. I’m heading to the mall with Splendid for a bite. Want me to bring you something back?”

Flippy masked any signs of relief on his expression after internally freaking out, “Nah, I’m good. Go enjoy a decent meal after living off prison food. I’ll meet you guys back here later.”

With that said, Fletcher nodded, and the twins stepped past each other to go their separate ways. With an opportunity to make amends of the situation in their home before Fletcher discovered the unpleasant truth, Flippy made haste and left for his truck. Gone was the chance to escape to his motel for some time alone – he needed to face the person he'd done his best to avoid.

~ ~ ~

The sound of Lammy’s voice roused Flaky from sleep. Upon realising she'd fallen asleep on Lammy’s couch, the porcupine sat up, and a soft, pink blanket slid down her shoulders.

From what she could tiredly recollect, Flaky only remembers succumbing to exhaustion after destroying her phone, venting out some anger in the process. But she struggled to determine how long she'd slept after tiredly scanning the room.

Lammy, who spoke quietly on her phone, must have noticed when Flaky rose from the sofa. The sheep became insistent on urging her phone call to end, stepping away from the window she'd been looking out of.

“…I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I need to go now. Thank you again for understanding.” When Lammy ended the call, she was already standing by Flaky.

Seeing daylight behind the partially-opened blinds, and her friend home from work, Flaky appeared more disoriented when she asked, “Did your shift end already?”

Lammy slowly shook her head, smiling sadly, “Flaky… I came home from work last night. You must've slept for the entire day on that sofa.”

Learning this, Flaky felt embarrassed and mumbled, “Gosh, I didn’t realise how exhausted I was, sorry Lammy–”

“No, no, stop right there,” The sheep interrupted, wagging her finger, “You have nothing to apologise for, Flaky. I’m glad you had a good rest. I could tell you needed it.”

Lammy’s reassuring words uplifted Flaky, and she smiled gratefully at the sheep. But upon a glance at the clock, a thought occurred, “Aren’t you usually at work by this time?” Flaky asked.

“Yes, but I called my boss just then. I told him I can’t make it today.” Lammy moved to sit by Flaky on the sofa and grasped both her hands in her own, “I should've done this yesterday, but I would like to spend the day by your side. I’m worried about you, Flaky.”

Flaky averted her green eyes from Lammy’s, masking the years of pain and fear behind them.The porcupine hoped Lammy couldn't read her so easily after their time apart, loathing the idea of burdening her friend with the truth.

But the sheep’s violet gaze was far too curious and concerned, and Flaky knew she wouldn't be able to escape the inevitable questions from Lammy.

Flaky stared down at her hands in Lammy’s, watching as her lilac fingers stroked her knuckles ever so gently. After a moment of silence to gather her thoughts, Flaky opened her mouth to speak, but her voice resisted against the words. Flaky desperately wanted to tell Lammy everything that led to where she is now. But it felt impossible.

Any attempt to admit her suffering became futile when a phantom grip wrapped around her throat, strangling the words before they had a chance to escape. It was all in her head – Flaky knew this – but she couldn't further dispel the fear that crippled her. 

When Flaky gave no response, Lammy tried a different approach to help her troubled friend feel at ease, “Say… It’s been ages since we went to our favourite café,” Lammy said, eyes lighting up with joy. “What do you say, wanna go there? We can browse the mall too, they refurbished the empty stores at the far end. The new clothing store is one I know you’ll absolutely love!”

Seeing Lammy’s contagious cheer, Flaky found herself smiling back, “I think that’s a great idea, but…” the porcupine looked down at her pyjamas that Lammy had given to her, “I may need to borrow more clothes from you, I have nothing now.”

“Which gives us an even better reason to go shopping,” Lammy beamed. Then she stood with Flaky’s hands still in her own, pulling the porcupine up with her, “I have an abundance of clothes that I haven’t worn in ages, you can borrow whatever you like.”

That said, Flaky allowed Lammy to lead her to the triple wardrobe in her bedroom, then complied when the sheep instructed her to stand before its mirror on the central door. Beholding the astonishing amount of clothing belonging to her fashion-loving friend didn't surprise Flaky.

Lammy excitedly opened each door and stepped aside for Flaky to browse. Then she turned to exit her bedroom, but glanced back and flashed an encouraging smile before chiming, “I’ll give you some privacy to try things on and see what fits you well. Take all the time you need, holler if you need me!”

Now alone, Flaky stared in awe at the beautiful array of attire. Pastels and florals. Delicate fabrics and soft frills. To Flaky, the lilac sheep’s fashion is the epitome of elegance and femininity – a stark opposite to the porcupine's preferred choice in fashion.

Flaky admired Lammy's dedication in keeping the garments arranged pristinely, and felt hesitant to begin a search that would disrupt this.

But as her friend had encouraged, Flaky began to try on several outfits. She quickly learned to avoid the tops and bottoms tailored specifically for Lammy’s slender and narrow figure.

When trying on a simple silk blouse, buttoning it became increasingly difficult when she'd reached her breasts. Flaky had sighed in defeat and shrugged out of the blouse.

Eventually, the porcupine found a high-neck vest, a teal cardigan, and slipped into them with ease. She chose a flowing, white skirt that fell above her ankles, with a comfortable waist band. Countless other skirts she'd tried didn't offer the stretch for Flaky pull over her hips.

Then, after lacing up her boots, Flaky assessed her outfit in the wardrobe's mirror. It felt strange, but oddly refreshing. Seeing herself in an outfit she wouldn't normally tailor towards. It flooded Flaky with excitement.

Flaky looked at herself too long, and the excitement began to vanish. Doubt took over when Lammy's elegant attire reminded Flaky of countless similar outfits she'd been forced to wear. All to appear well-groomed and proper while she'd stood by the fastidious man of her nightmares.

Being alone for mere minutes allowed anxiety to plague her thoughts, and Flaky could only stand there, staring distantly at her reflection. Something deep within her soul festered on fear she longed to banish. But the fear was unshakable, making Flaky question her chosen outfit.

'He could have eyes everywhere in this town...' She thought, sweat beading above her brow, '...Would they recognize me in public...?'

With a scowl, Flaky perished those fearful thoughts, shifting her focus on the sound of her steps as she hurried to leave Lammy’s bedroom.

The lilac sheep patiently waited for Flaky in her living room. When she saw the porcupine return from the bedroom, Lammy clasped her hands together with jubilance.

“Wow, you look stunning in my clothes!” Lammy chirped, marvelling at how well-suited her regular style looked on Flaky. “I know you’re going to switch back to wearing you're usual dark clothes when you buy some more, but don’t be afraid to throw in some bright dresses and skirts.” She finished with a wink.

Flaky smiled bashfully at the compliment, “Thank you, Lammy.”

As the two girls left for the mall, Flaky pondered to herself over Lammy’s suggestion. Switching out her familiar style of clothing could decrease his chances of finding her, so Flaky tucked away that idea for now.

~ ~ ~

When Flippy arrived outside his old home, he saw no sign of Giggles’s blush-pink car parked in the driveway. Unaware of her daily schedule, having been so long since they'd spoken, Flippy didn't know how much time he had before she returned.

The bear felt grateful for a stroke of luck that he's able to gather his belongings without her soul-leeching presence around him. So, as he shuffled through his keychain to find his spare one for the front door, he braced himself for the unknown condition of the home.

As he stepped through the door, the sickeningly sweet fragrance of the chipmunk’s perfume assaulted his senses. The familiar smell Flippy remembered when the house belonged to his parents has long since become a distant memory.

Flippy wasted no time, hurriedly scanning each room in the house, assessing if anything had drastically changed since he moved out. He had very little time to keep up the lie that he hadn't been sleeping in a motel, only so Giggles kept a roof over her head. Before Fletcher inevitably demands to visit his old home, Giggles needed to heed a warning about his early return.

After gathering as many of his belongings as he could fit in a rucksack, Flippy placed the bag by the front door and rushed to search every cupboard and drawer to find a pen and a piece of paper.

Giggles,

I know this is five years earlier than you were expecting, but Fletcher is back.

You need to pack up and get out. Fast.

I will only be able to keep him away from here for so long, this was his home after all.

This didn’t have to happen, but you got too comfortable.

Please don’t think I’m joking.

Flippy.

After hurriedly scribbling down the note for Giggles, the bear placed it underneath the paperweight on the living room table, then turned to leave with his rucksack in hand.

He hoped that she at least had the sense to take him seriously. The moment Fletcher finds the idea of going back to his home, Flippy knew an attempt to deter him without raising suspicion would be impossible.

~ ~ ~

Splendid ensured their chosen place to eat in the mall’s food court was bustling and lively. They settled into a popular bar and grill restaurant, situated between a busy café and the endless rows of shopping outlets. In one of the many private booths, the ex-hero and the dishonourable soldier sat across from each other.

As he watched Fletcher devour a perfectly cooked steak with a generous side of charred vegetables, Splendid internally rehearsed his proposition for the scarred bear. Catching him on a full stomach of food has always been wise, so Splendid continued to wait patiently before saying anything.

Immersed in savouring the flavours he hadn't tasted for five long years, Fletcher ignored everything but his plate of food. When Splendid had kindly told him he could order whatever he liked, he jumped at the opportunity to order his favourite dish.

After taking his last bite, Fletcher placed the cutlery down on his empty plate and reached for his pint to wash down his meal. With his ravenous hunger partially satiated, the scarred bear sat back against the red leather of the booth’s bench. He opened his mouth to thank Splendid a second time for buying him a much needed meal, but seeing the squirrel had barely touched his burger and fries, he raised a brow.

“I know I’m a fast eater, but I can tell you haven’t even had a bite of yours. You alright?” The yellow-eyed bear asked.

Splendid shrugged, “I’m not as hungry as I thought I was, and besides,” He pushed his plate towards Fletcher, “You seem like you could go for some more.”

Fletcher’s eyes lit up in an instant, but as he reached to grab a handful of fries, the squirrel swiftly swiped the plate out of his reach.

Splendid's half smile almost resembled a cunning smirk as he divulged, “But first, I want you to hear me out on something you might be interested in.”

Fletcher narrowed his eyes, stealing a glance at the tempting burger in front of Splendid before grumbling, “It better be worth it.”

“You never once asked me how I got you out, aren’t you curious?” The squirrel asked after taking a small sip of his soda.

The scarred bear folded his arms, a disinterested look on his face as he replied, “As long as you weren’t stupid enough to do it in a way that will come back around to bite me, I don’t care.”

Seeing him brush off his question so easily, Splendid quickly tried to think of another way to introduce Fletcher into his unethical work.

“Fletch, I know you don’t have a coin to your name,” Splendid quietly said. “Am I right?”

The bear fidgeted in his seat, shame creeping within him at the unfortunate truth, “No shit. They left me with nothing when they discharged me.”

“How does an opportunity to make good money sound?” Splendid asked, keeping his voice low for Fletcher’s ears only.

Noticing his friend’s secretive behaviour, Fletcher eyed him suspiciously, “What’s the catch?”

“None. It’s easy money if you can stomach it,” Splendid leaned in a little further, his voice almost becoming a whisper, “My new dealer is a prolific gang leader. I can’t mention his name, but he’s the reason I was able to pay for your bail fee.”

Fletcher struggled to grasp what he heard. Of all potential ways he assumed the ex-hero would live his life, Splendid has placed his supernatural abilities into the hands of criminals. Fletcher didn't know what to think.

“You’re seriously suggesting that I risk getting locked up again just to earn some dirty money with you?” Fletcher angrily whispered.

“You don’t have to meet the guy. He doesn't need to know anything about you. Just be my plus one for the jobs, and I’ll split the earnings with you every time.” Splendid offered.

“Be more specific.” Fletcher demanded, “What kind of jobs are you talking about?”

Splendid cautiously scanned the restaurant from their booth before confessing, “I wasn’t at some chick’s house last night,” He then took his phone from his jeans pocket and opened up his recent images, “I put an end to one of his snitches, I had to take photo evidence to show him before disposing of the body, like all his other hits that I’ve done so far.”

Displayed on Splendid’s phone screen was the corpse of a male fox, his body so splattered in his own blood that it was difficult to figure out how Splendid had murdered him.

Fletcher’s pupils dilated at the gruesome sight of gore, the slumbering bloodlust awakening within him to seep into his veins. But he shook his head and shoved Splendid’s phone out of his face.

Fletcher couldn't fathom the revelation. He'd never deny taking sick pleasure in violence, one of his more secretive reasons for enjoying his time in the military. But knowing that Splendid is actively taking part in such atrocious acts like someone’s personal hitman, Fletcher couldn't meet the squirrel’s steel grey eyes without feeling oddly unsettled.

A job like that would be stupidly easy for Fletcher – shedding the blood of others without a heavy conscience felt natural and effortless for him. But despite his own confidence, he still didn't feel convinced enough to accept.

Regardless of the method helping Splendid grant him freedom, the bear wanted to avoid the possibility of losing it again. As tempting as the opportunity for easy money seemed, Splendid needed to prove to the bear he had no reason to worry.

Fletcher sighed, tapping his fingers on the table as he mulled over Splendid’s offer, “I’ll think about it, okay? I just got out of prison. The one career I wanted more than anything is over for me, and now I don’t even know what the fuck I’m gonna do with my life.”

Splendid glimpsed the look of disappointment on Fletcher’s expression when his taught gaze drifted down to the table. In some way, the squirrel empathized with the soldier's troubles, understanding what it feels like to be denied their found purpose in life.

Many adored the super-squirrel when he worked for the law. Offering his abilities to fight crime and protect the people, and reaping all the benefits of having the public’s favour in the palm of his hand while doing so.

But with more money than he knew what to do with, Splendid eventually turned to questionable hobbies in his spare time. His dabbling in illegal drugs was the one to ultimately revoke him of everything he gained as the town’s beloved hero. An irreversible ruling by the authorities that held dire consequences for Splendid if he breached their rules – keep a low profile in the public eye, and never, under any circumstances, use his supernatural abilities.

Splendid knew that he'd dwelt on his terrible life choices long enough. Unless he wanted to throw away his life entirely, end up sealed away by the government inside a kryptonut tomb to be either left to rot, or sold to the highest bidder in the experimental market, Splendid needed to stay sharp in his new line of work.

Splendid pushed the plate of food back towards Fletcher as he sighed, “Alright then, Fletch, I won’t push you into it. But my offer is always open.” Then he rummaged through his pocket to retrieve his wallet, “Unless you have some other way of getting your own money, I suggest you look for work.”

The words sank in as quickly as he heard them, and Fletcher’s hand hesitated before it reached the burger. He thought hard, wondering who and where would employ him when he was fresh out of prison for committing heinous war crimes.

The thrill of danger is all he'd ever known since being a late teen. Nothing could beat the pure adrenaline he felt on the battlefield while fighting for his country. He wore his many scars like badges of pride. Others take one look at the bear and give him a wide berth, fearing the worst if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Fletcher became used to the treatment over time, because deep down, he knew they were right to be afraid of him.

Fletcher grabbed the ketchup bottle before speaking, gesturing with his other hand to his scar-speckled face, “Well, when you find an employer who is willing to hire someone who looks like me, let me know.”

Splendid ignored the bear’s sarcasm, deciding not to mention that he'd already done just that. Instead, he removed a generous stack of notes from his visibly overloaded wallet. He placed enough on the side of the table for the bill before slowly placing the rest by Fletcher’s scarred hand.

“You know I hate to see you struggling, Fletcher, so consider this another gift from me to you.” The squirrel then rose from his seat, “I’ll let you eat in peace. That money is yours to do whatever you want with, but you should make it last until you get another source of income.”

Not expecting Splendid to leave so soon, Fletcher stopped squeezing ketchup beside the fries and mumbled, “Where are you going?”

“Duty calls.” Splendid then put his black sunglasses over his eyes, lifted his jacket hood over his head, and sauntered away with his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

Now alone in the booth, Fletcher stared at the generous stack of notes that Splendid had left him, tainted by the hands of criminals that had passed them around, no doubt. The bear was tempted to count the money in that moment, but he didn't want a reminder of the things Splendid had done to earn it.

Fletcher scowled, slamming down the ketchup bottle to scrunch the stack of hundreds into his fist before shoving them inside his jacket pocket. He decided to think more on the situation later.

The burger and fries had gone cold by this point. Hunger still churned in his half full stomach, but not enough to eat cold food. So, instead of wasting it, Fletcher picked up the tray and left the restaurant, ignoring the confused looks from the other customers, and the staff who were too nervous to confront him.

Seated on the floor to the side of the bustling café was the homeless veteran he'd noticed earlier on. His tattered clothes, blankets, and sleeping bag all looked worse for wear. But on the old ox’s head proudly sat a spotless military beret with an unmistakable insignia. The same one he once wore. Fletcher stopped before him with the tray of food in hand.

The old ox slowly looked up at the scarred bear, “...What?”

Fletcher tried to offer a kind smile before placing the tray in front of the ox, “From one soldier to another. I brought you a meal.”

Fletcher didn't wait for a further response and saluted the ox as he turned to leave. But what the homeless man angrily blurted next made him freeze on the spot.

“Is that it? Cold, shitty food?! You should have just given me some fuckin’ money!”

The scarred bear’s fists clenched so hard that his knuckles threatened to tear through his flesh. Every fibre in his body screamed at him to storm back to the ox and ram his horns through the nearest wall. But he took a deep breath as he turned around to leer at the man. When he eyed the dark green beret on his head again, an idea sprung to mind.

The green bear slowly stalked back to the ox. Twisted amusement painted a sinister smirk over his snarl when he saw how fast the old veteran regretted his words. Fletcher could tell the ox expected him to keep walking after he'd rudely dismissed his food offering.

After towering over the ungrateful ox, Fletcher knelt to his level and pierced him with a menacing, yellow scowl as he hissed a warning, “Consider yourself lucky, scumbag. I’m in no mood to end up back in prison for wiping these floors with you in front of all these people.”

The visibly sweating ox cowered away from Fletcher, holding his arms up defensively, “H-Hey now, there’s no need for any of that, I apologise!”

The bear scoffed and reached into his pocket to find the money from Splendid, before throwing two of the hundred bills at the ox, “For the record, if money is what you want instead, just ask.”

Flabbergasted, the homeless veteran’s jaw dropped as he stared at the money in front of him. More money than what he'd managed to scrape in the last year. But before the ox had a chance to say anything, he became stunned again when Fletcher snatched the beret from his head and stood up to leave again, saluting the speechless ox one last time.

~ ~ ~

Three shops later in the mall, Flaky and Lammy agreed on a coffee break to rest and rejuvenate themselves. Flaky felt particularly flustered. Not just from the summer heat trapped inside the enclosed building, but also the dense crowds of shoppers everywhere they went. It had been so long since the porcupine ventured into a busy public space that she'd forgotten just how overwhelming it could be.

So, after buying their coffees and a pastry treat to enjoy, they claimed the cosiest seating area they could find in the café, and dropped their shopping bags below the table.

Keen on keeping their conversation topics pleasant, Lammy cautiously avoided mentioning the night Flaky arrived in her apartment. Seeing the porcupine on edge during their time in the mall worried her, but the sheep refused to press her about it until they were in the privacy of her home.

As she took a small bite of her jam tart, Lammy watched Flaky hastily scan through her receipts so far. Curious, she politely mentioned, “I was surprised when you pulled out your debit card at first, I would've been more than happy to buy you some things, especially if you're low on money.”

Flaky paused her mental counting, masking her worry behind a grateful smile, “That’s so nice of you, but I always keep my debit card in my phone case, and I remembered to put it aside before I...” She drifted off. Almost admitting to smashing her phone to pieces.

Lammy waited to hear the rest of her sentence, but Flaky laughed nervously and quickly grabbed her coffee, taking a long sip before changing the subject, “I didn’t realise how much I needed a little caffeine boost until I sat down, what about you?”

Seeing a glimmer of something odd in Flaky’s behaviour, Lammy tried not to raise a brow and show her concern. She nodded, and continued to sip her drink, “I agree. Walking around this place can be quite exhausting.”

When a comfortable silence fell between them as they finished the rest of their coffees and treats, Flaky became more antsy, and repeatedly assessed her surroundings.

Noticing a hint of fear in her features, Lammy could tell Flaky tried her best to hide it from her. She knew Flaky needed a push to spill some better insight on the things that have happened while they'd been apart.

Realizing she should've pried for details sooner left Lammy full of dread. She quietly assessed Flaky while her attention was elsewhere. Knowing how sensitive the porcupine can be, Lammy hesitated to form the right words.

The evident sign of assault on Flaky's face had been a disheartening sight. To prevent Flaky from reliving the experience again so soon, Lammy held off the gritty questioning.

But an awful thought in the back of Lammy's mind flooded her with urgency. So she decided to wait until their mall trip ended, then she'd make a firmer approach on the matter to learn the unpleasant truth about her ex.

Flaky had finished her beverage and treat first, and hastily stood from her seat, flashing a smile at Lammy as she spoke, “I just need to use the restroom.”

Lammy sipped the last of her coffee and watched Flaky hastily leave the table, “Okay, Flakes. I’ll be here for you.”

When Flaky entered the empty restroom, she darted to the nearest sink and splashed cool water on her face, hoping to calm her nerves. Then she dried her face and hands with a paper towel, the red-furred girl faced a mirror to assess the fading blemish around her eye.

Despite almost fading, and no longer feeling tender to touch, the bright artificial lights of the mall made her bruise more noticeable, garnering unwanted attention from the strangers around her.

The occasional looks from them added fuel to her anxiety. She could only feel grateful for at least having the long sleeves of Lammy's cardigan, concealing the bruising and grazes encircling her wrists like two unsightly bracelets.

When Flaky made her way back to Lammy, the sheep had already picked up their shopping bags from below the table. Flaky smiled and thanked her friend before hanging her bags on one arm. Deciding she'd bought more than enough things for now, Flaky turned and faced Lammy as they went to exit the café.

“I think I’ve had enough of the mall for one day. Is it all right if we go back to your apartment?” Flaky asked.

Lammy smiled, seeing this as an even better opportunity to find out more about the questionable relationship Flaky has been silent about, “Of course, if that’s what you want to do, we can head home.”

When stepping through the sliding doors of the café back into the busy mall, Flaky instinctively scanned her surroundings again. Then, to her surprise, she caught a glimpse of the man she recognised from the night she trailed the road.

The well-built, tall green bear who kindly escorted her to Lammy. At the sight of him, Flaky instantly recalled his safe, comforting presence.

Her racing thoughts slowed down, fading out. Replaced by the warm memory of his charming smile and ocean blue eyes.

Without hesitating she turned to Lammy and gestured towards the tall bear, who fixed a military bonnet onto his head as he walked in the direction away from them.

“Lammy, there's the man who brought me to you. Come with me while I thank him again.” Flaky grinned, leaving the sheep no choice but to follow as she pulled the girl along with her. Then when she closed the space between them and the bear, Flaky reached up to gently tap his shoulder, “Flippy?”

He came to a sudden halt. Then slowly turned his head, revealing that he was not the bear she remembered, but almost resembled him perfectly.

The words in her mouth dried up at the sight of his irritated expression – made even more menacing by the scars on his face, and the piercing, predatorial yellow-green eyes that shot down to hers instantly.

Flaky stumbled over her next words, sensing the annoyance from the man after disturbing him, “Oh, I… forgive me, I-I thought you were-”

“My brother?” The green bear interrupted. His deep, husky voice sent a chill fluttering down Flaky's spine. As he turned to face the girls, he noticed Lammy moving closer to Flaky’s side, eyeing him with caution.

The man rolled his yellow orbs at the sheep’s reaction and sighed, “Who the hell are you to Flippy, quills?”

Flaky watched as he stared down at her, his bored gaze flitting over her body before expectantly meeting her eyes for an answer. Then she had to fight back the embarrassed heat from her cheeks when the man stared at the blemish around her eye for too long.

A fleeting glint of curiosity flashed in his expression after noticing the fading bruise, but it went unnoticed by the two girls.

“...I don’t know really know Flippy, we only just met a few nights ago. He helped me in a... difficult situation.” Flaky responded, offering a small smile in hopes of diminishing the tense frown on his face.

When her words made him think for a moment, a roguish smirk tugged his scarred lips. He gave a low chuckle, letting his gaze sweep over Flaky's form again, “Ahh, I see. So, you’re the reason he arrived so late after ignoring us. I never thought Flippy had it in him to mingle with harlots.”

At his rudeness, a horrible feeling churned in Lammy's gut, and she quickly threw herself between Flaky and the man, glaring up at him, “Take back those words right now! My friend has done nothing to deserve your nasty remarks, so keep them to yourself!”

The sheep pointed threateningly in his direction as she scolded him, but the bear swiftly snatched her hand in his firm grip.

Lammy's blood went cold. Panic leeched her composure, and she whimpered, struggling to remove her wrist from his larger and stronger hand.

“Let go of me!” Lammy demanded, using her free hand to pry at his fingers.

He snarled at her, his grip never faltering as he leaned down with a low warning, “I'll make you think twice before pointing in the face of a stranger...”

Flaky's panic skyrocketed hearing the tone of his voice, laced with threat. Her sharpened awareness during these painfully familiar situations triggered an impulsive fight or flight reaction.

She found a beat of courage in her burst of adrenaline, and quickly sought a way to fend off Flippy’s brother.

Shopping bags dropped to the floor. Then she lunged forward, claws out at the ready.

Flaky seized the bear's forearm with all her strength, sinking her claws into the exposed flesh under his sleeves until his grip around Lammy's wrist loosened.

Taken aback, he stared at Flaky. A startled look of surprise stole the stern expression from his face.

But then he noticed the small droplets of blood forming where her claws were, and his menacing scowl returned, “That wasn't very clever, quills.”

Flaky tried to put distance between herself and the bear. But before she could back away, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

A pained yelp ripped from Flaky, and he leered with a taunting, crooked smile, “Aw, what’s wrong? You can give but can’t take? Well, maybe you shouldn’t have pushed those claws into me then, bitch.”

Their rise in commotion attracted fearful and concerned looks from the curious passers by in the mall. The two shaken girls watched as his anger faltered. They could tell the vicious bear realized they had an audience of many bystanders around them.

So, when he begrudgingly loosened his grip on her wrist, he stared at her hand, frowning at his blood on the ends of her fingers. Only then did he realise why she'd cried out in agony after grabbing the porcupine's wrist.

During their struggle, Flaky's sleeves had had lifted, giving the bear a full display of the unsightly injuries on her wrists.

Those yellow eyes that leered aggressively at the two girls moments ago were now wide with shock. He tried to examine Flaky's wrists further, his subtle look of concern melting away as he scrutinized Flaky’s face,

After searching for something behind her frightened green eyes, he could only see fear.

Flaky tried to take her hand away from his, but he caught her fingers before she could slip away, using less aggression behind his grip this time.

He slowly and carefully turned her hand, assessing the dark bruise and cuts. The man appeared to be lost in thought as his eyes traced the injuries.

Flaky used this distraction to finally snatch her hand away.

The motion was so swift, the bear reacted a second too slow. He called out to the porcupine, “Hey, wait a sec–“

But Flaky and Lammy were already bolting across the mall, their shopping bags swinging on their arms as they parted the startled strangers that gathered to witness their spectacle.

~ ~ ~

For a long time, Splendid had never felt the burden of tardiness. Punctuality came easy as a super squirrel. If he had somewhere important to be, it took one beat of his flying squirrel wings to take to the skies, breaking the sound barrier as he pierced through the clouds like a cobalt bullet.

But the thrill it once brought him didn't come often now. Gone were the days of zooming from A to B with a bird’s eye view whenever he pleased. Not unless Splendid wanted to be seen in the act of using his abilities and suffer the consequences.

He'll never forget the day his wings were ordered to be clipped. Callously disabling them in hopes to prevent him from flying. Splendid had swallowed his pride and demanded a surgical removal instead – if they forbid him from taking to the skies forever, he wanted his webbed wings gone for good. He saw no use in keeping them as a cruel reminder of the life he'd lost.

But that had been his cunning plan all along to further convince the authorities to keep him in their good books, even after everything Splendid had done to lose their trust.

The surgery sucked. Hugely. However, the ex-hero was lucky his supernatural powers healed the awful surgical wounds promptly. Because right before he went under the knife and said goodbye to his beloved wings, he had secretly acquired a high-quality wingsuit. Slick, discreet, and black as the night.

He'd hesitated before first using the suit, questioning if the material could withstand his high speeds. Fearing the outcome of flying with artificial wings, the deserted far side of the town became his playground.

Using the dangerously steep cliff sides and mountains, he'd tested the suit in its normal function before finally testing its limits. The material was durable, perfect for his supernatural flight. So it became his forever replacement of the ones he'd sadly parted with.

When he left Fletcher at the mall, he'd returned to his home and headed straight for his room. Then after throwing his rucksack onto his bed, Splendid pulled out a pin-locked metal case from under his bed. After tapping in the four digits, it unlocked with a click for him to retrieve his black wing suit.

An alert for a hit that Splendid was expecting to receive at any time soon popped up on the screen of his untraceable phone – gifted to him by his questionable employer.

The message received seemed unusually blunt. So Splendid moved with haste and left to retrieve the incriminating details of the job from his boss.

Situated in the neighbouring large town, the mobster owned a discreet hideout that they used for their meetings. As their towns were separated by vast, tree-dense forests, Splendid had found his perfect opportunity to reach his super speeds unnoticed.

After quickly cycling his usual route to the edge of town, Splendid arrived at the open expanse of fields. The last thing to cross before making his rapid journey through the forest.

With nobody around to witness, Splendid lifted his bicycle up and over his shoulder and sprinted to the edge of the forest. He stripped down to his briefs, stepped into the wingsuit and zipped it to his neck. Then he pulled the attached mask over his head, leaving nothing but his grey eyes exposed.

After scoping out the small clearing where he often left his belongings, Splendid rested his bike against the nearest tree and stashed his rucksack inside the shrub closest to the small pond at the outskirts of the clearing.

With giddy excitement and the sacred rush of adrenaline within reach, Splendid positioned himself at the centre of the clearing and fanned the wings of his suit, then rocketed up to the apex of the forest’s tallest trees. After perfectly aligning himself above them, it only took the flying squirrel mere seconds to reach the edge of the other town.

~ ~ ~

After an angry drive in Splendid’s car to arrive back at the house, Fletcher barged into the squirrel’s home in search of Flippy.

The blue-eyed bear’s heart leapt into his throat when he heard the door slam open for the second time that day.

“Are you both in a race to see who can bust that door off its hinges first?” Flippy blurted from the kitchen.

The yellow-eyed bear ignored his twin’s sarcastic jab and stormed right to the sound of his voice. When Flippy watched him enter the kitchen, his smile vanished instantly.

Flippy watched Fletcher rush to the sink and wash away dried streaks of blood in his forearm, thinking the worst. But he said nothing, waiting for his twin to speak first.

With gritted teeth, Fletcher assessed the deep claw punctures from the red porcupine at the mall. The attack had stirred up an unusual turmoil in the pit of his gut. Torn by astonishment and pure rage, knowing she'd drawn his blood so easily and escaped from him unscathed.

Regardless, he felt determinated to gain answers from Flippy about the porcupine, “Who the fuck is that red girl with the quill hair?”

Fletcher's short description closely resembled the girl he found trailing the roads that night, pushing the memory of Flaky right at the forefront of Flippy’s mind.

Her tired eyes. Her anxious and paranoid behaviour. The way she'd smiled so beautifully at him during their departure, despite the unnerving evidence that something terrible had happened to her. Reliving that night in his head left Flippy feeling worried all over again.

In a careful tone, Flippy tried to keep his response calm for his seething twin. He started by prying for more information, hoping to affirm if Flaky really was the culprit of Fletcher's injuries.

“Did you happen to get her name?” Flippy asked, keeping a safe distance from his unpredictable twin.

Now rid of the infuriating sight of his own blood, Fletcher stopped the running water and turned to snarl at Flippy, “No. I didn’t. But you must already know her because she approached me calling out your name.” The scarred bear began irritably pacing the kitchen as he continued, “That bitch attacked me, dug her little claws right into my arm. Tell me who she is. Now.”

After listening to Fletcher’s heated rant about his encounter, Flippy felt puzzled. He knew in an instant that it must be Flaky after learning she'd mistook his twin for him. But hearing Fletcher accuse her of an attack left him skeptical.

Flippy didn't deny that his twin’s arm had deep puncture wounds by the claws of another, but he struggled to picture Flaky as the person responsible.

When he first met her, she seemed so timid and withdrawn. Frightened and on edge. But he will never hear both sides to Fletcher’s story without the porcupine’s say on the matter.

“Listen, you have the wrong idea about her. When I found her walking the road at night, she was terrified of something, and I never got to find out why.” Flippy explained, disappointment and regret creeping over his features.

Fletcher almost cackled with disbelief at Flippy’s words, “You think that I have the wrong idea about a girl who savagely attacked me? Now that is rich coming from you.”

Flippy looked up from the table at his twin, narrowing his eyes, “Don’t start this again.”

“Fuck you. I’m never going to let you forget who had the wrong idea about that pink skank you dated for all those years. Even after I warned you about her countless times. Even when she banged some other dude behind your back, you still didn’t wanna accept the fact that she's a cheating little whore!”

“Enough!” Flippy bellowed, anger thrashing in his chest when Fletcher broke his promise to drop the topic of Giggles.

Fletcher heard the slight tremble in Flippy’s voice when he shouted, and could tell he'd pushed his brother too far. But as he was still livid over the events at the mall, Fletcher had to remove himself from the kitchen to vent out the rest of his explosive anger elsewhere – before Flippy became the one on the receiving end.

Seeing that a heavy-duty punching bag in Splendid’s spacious garage still hung from a chain on the ceiling, Fletcher didn't hesitate to remove his jacket and shirt. Then he unleashed the fury simmering in his veins.

Each strike from the bear’s fists almost sent the sand-filled leather crashing through the wall, but he didn't stop his powerful strikes until he depleted his rage and drained the last of his energy.

When Splendid eventually arrived from the other town, he went straight to his garage to find Fletcher – on his short journey over the forest, the squirrel’s ears picked up the familiar sounds of his poor punching bag taking a deadly beating, accompanied by Fletcher's grunts of anger.

The squirrel let out an impressed whistle at the sight of Fletcher savagely attacking the punching bag, his large muscled torso and arms glistening with sweat.

“I tell you what, I’m so glad you didn’t park my car in the garage when you got back, because I bet that would've been your next victim.”

When Fletcher heard the squirrel’s voice, laced with amusement, he briefly paused to snap at him, “Piss off, Splendid, or your unbreakable face will be my next victim, and I’ve always wondered how many hits a super-fucker like you can take before looking like a bloody pulp. Don’t tempt me to find out.”

Splendid smirked when he heard Fetcher’s threats. He'd known the bear long enough to take his harsh words with a pinch of salt. In situations like this, they were simply part of the process when the short-tempered bear blew off steam.

Fletcher continued to strike the punching bag with every ounce of force he had left. Splendid approached him, sensing that the scarred bear’s rampage was almost over.

“Woah there, Fletch. Take it easy before you punch a hole in that thing. I do like that punching bag-”

“What do you want?!” Fletcher bellowed, shifting all focus on Splendid to snarl at him with annoyance.

The ex-hero cleared his throat, carefully making a final attempt to convince Fletcher to join him in his questionable deeds, “Wouldn’t you agree that you need a better outlet for all of your...” He paused, searching carefully for his next words, “Unbridled rage?”

“I had my outlet, and I pissed it down the drain. Now look at me," Fletcher stared at his hands, bitter contempt in his chartreuse eyes, "If I lose my mind and obliterate somebody for even looking at me the wrong way, I’m gonna end up back in that degrading shit hole!”

After admitting a truth that filled him with shame, Fletcher submitted to the exhaustion trickling into his limbs and sank to his knees, bracing his hands on the floor to let his head hang between his shoulders.

Splendid slowly stepped closer to him, “I know you dread the thought of going back to prison. You don’t think it’s wise to do the things that I’ve been doing, and that’s understandable. But why not give it one little chance. A small taste of it to know for certain that it’s not for you. If it isn’t, I promise you, I will never ask you again.” The blue squirrel spoke with sincerity, outstretching a hand for Fletcher to take.

The bear looked down at his hands. Each throb that tore through his swollen, bloodied knuckles reminded him of what it felt like to use his fists like the weapons he'd built them to be. Fletcher couldn't deny that he often found himself longing for it – the sweet release that only pure bloodshed could bring.

During his time in prison, Fletcher's bloodlust was always satiated. Not only did he take pleasure in getting away with brutally attacking the other inmates, but he'd felt a sense of pride after ending the lives of inmates serving time for committing the most unthinkable crimes.

Thus, with his mind finally made up on the ex-hero’s offer, Fletcher reached a hand to firmly grip Spelndid’s and allowed the squirrel to help him back on his feet.

“...All right. I’m in.”

Splendid flashed a conceited grin, “Perfect. Be ready to go by nightfall. You won’t be disappointed.”

Chapter Text

Their adrenaline-driven sprint to the nearest exit in the mall had their lungs burning by the time they stopped. Panting, they dropped their bags on the ground and leaned against the wall to catch their breath.

After regaining her composure, Lammy gathered her bags again and fixed her bewildered gaze on Flaky, “Are you out of your mind?! What possessed you to do that?” The sheep stressed.

Flaky picked up her bags and continued walking towards the parking lot, keeping her tone low, “I... I don’t know. I just knew I had to do something to make him let go of you.”

Truthfully, Flaky felt baffled by her actions, too. But watching as Lammy struggled in the man’s firm grip, fear laced in her voice as she demanded him to let go, Flaky’s body had seized with shock.

The sight and sounds of her panicked and frightened friend triggered a sequence of countless vivid memories, all depicting herself in similar situations with him. 

Instinct had taken over, spurring Flaky into protecting her friend by any means necessary. But piercing her claws into the bear's muscular arm, deep enough to draw blood, felt like an out-of-body experience.

Lammy quickly caught up to Flaky’s side, occasionally looking back towards the exit as they walked away from it, “You picked the worst way! We're incredibly lucky to have been in a busy area. That man looked like he wanted to eat you alive!”

Flaky stayed silent for the rest of their hasty walk to Lammy’s car. The sheep mostly rambled on about their unpleasant encounter with Flippy’s brother. Though his striking resemblance to Flippy made Flaky guess they are twins.

The porcupine wouldn’t deny the small flutter of joy in her chest when believing she'd found enough luck to cross paths with Flippy again. Despite the letdown, something inside her still held hopes of another chance to see the blue-eyed bear.

Now in the safety of Lammy’s car, Flaky looked down at her claws and fingers and noticed the traces of drying blood on them. A harsh reminder of what she'd done to Flippy’s brother. Reality of the situation sank in.

She now feared the worst outcome of her impulsive attack. Flippy had shown her a display of his generosity that night in his first impression, but it didn't change the fact that he's a stranger, and the realization hit Flaky hard.

Dwelling further on this, she struggled to imagine the nature of Flippy’s reaction when he discovers her attack on his brother.

Now, whenever the blue-eyed bear crossed her mind, Flaky only imagined the possibility of a negative encounter. If fate allowed them to meet again.

The engine starting broke the silence, unsettling Flaky for a brief moment. Lammy noticed and turned to assess where Flaky's attention had been when she jolted, following where the porcupine was staring.

One glance at the blood on Flaky’s slightly trembling fingers made the sheep grimace, “There’s a sanitising hand gel in my compartment box. You should probably use some for now until we get back.”

After a silent drive, they were soon back inside Lammy’s apartment. While Lammy remained in the kitchen to put away the few groceries she'd bought, Flaky stowed away in the spare bedroom to organize her purchases.

Flaky’s new garments claimed the empty wardrobe in the room. A mix of her dark, earthy-toned apparel became a stark contrast within Lammy's delicate pale furniture.

She stored away necessities and a variety of toiletries – a quill softening lotion, and a comb strong enough to tame her crimson locks into submission being two things she'd refused to leave the mall without.

With a tidy space again, Flaky looked around the room, appreciating the small changes that made it more personalised to her liking. For the time being, it's the only space Flaky had to call her own, until she figured out her next steps.

Lammy already made it clear that she'd never pressure Flaky into leaving her apartment in a hurry. However, she urged Flaky into inquiring the landlord of the high-rise for any vacant apartments, if she did choose to leave sooner.

Sharing the same apartment block would keep them closer again, like they always were before things had gone dreadfully wrong. Having her lifelong friend by her side again, after years of distance, felt like the reassuring anchor Flaky needed to feel grounded.

But behind the joy of getting to live close to her best friend, Flaky ruminated more on the advantage of living in a thirty-story apartment complex, a home to many others.

If her fear of being found by her ex manifested into a reality, she'd be surrounded by an abundance of potential witnesses for whatever cruel and twisted plans he had for her.

The thought alone was more than enough to convince Flaky that an available apartment needed to be hers.

Whilst completing her last chores for the day, Lammy went to empty the trash in her kitchen. When opening the lid to remove the full trash bag, she halted when something unexpected caught her eye.

A mobile phone, damaged far beyond repair. Its screen fractured enough to reveal the components inside. Confused by this, Lammy carefully picked up the device to inspect it.

She already knew who the broken phone belonged to. So, with another thing added to her pile of concern, the sheep left the kitchen with the phone in hand. Lammy could wait no longer for answers.

She already felt as though Flaky purposely withheld important information from her. Seeing her friend's phone, smashed and discarded in the trash, affirmed Lammy's assumptions.

Still in the bedroom, Flaky used the opportunity of solitude to assess her receipts a second time. She'd aimed to stay below a budget, hoping to spend an insignificant amount. But after calculating the total of her spending, a nervous feeling of regret pooled in her stomach.

‘Oh no...’  She thought, ‘He’s definitely going to notice that amount is missing…’

“Flaky?” Lammy’s voice called out from the other side of the door, followed by a gentle knock, distracting Flaky from her thoughts.

Flaky tried to act neutral when Lammy entered the room, hiding her sheer panic behind her best smile for the sheep, then stood from the bed.

But Lammy approached with an air of solemnity, and dropped something on the bed for her to see. Flaky’s smile vanished instantly.

Lammy folded her arms and spoke firmly, “I want to help you through whatever is going on with you, Flaky. I really do. But something isn’t right,” Her violet eyes briefly darted to the phone on the bed, “I’ve known you almost all my life, and I can tell when you’re hiding things from me. Help me understand what the heck is going on. What’s driven you to do something like this?”

Flaky knew that confessing everything right now would be a terrible idea. She swallowed and tried to avoid Lammy’s unmoving violet stare. But knowing she'd been practically cornered until admitting something believable, Flaky sighed in defeat.

After clasping Lammy’s hands in her own, Flaky looked into her eyes, dropped her mask of composure and confessed, “I-I think he...” She stammered, her throat threatening to close again as fear seized her nerves.

But Flaky took a deep breath, and forced the words to come out, “...I think he planned to kill me.”

The chilling revelation left Lammy in a state of shock. The sheep’s wide eyes blinked once as she tried to process the harrowing information.

But then she quickly snapped back to reality, turning on her heel to bolt for the nearest phone, “...I’m calling the police.”

“NO!” Flaky cried out, rushing forward to seize Lammy by her arm before she could leave the room.

When Lammy turned to face her again, the sheep looked utterly taken aback by Flaky’s outburst. She stayed silent for a moment, trying to read the terror in the porcupine’s eyes before.

Confused, Lammy uttered, “...Why not?”

“Because...” Flaky trailed off.

The cogs in her distressed mind worked overtime to prevent the potential involvement of the police – she knew their efforts would be futile, and only make matters far worse.

“...Because I’m very lucky to have escaped from him and be here in the first place! If I alert the police about this, h-he’s just going to escape from them like he always does and he will come looking for me, and I don’t want you involved in this horrible mess either-!”

“Flaky, slow down!” Lammy interrupted, gently grasping Flaky's restless hands to hold them in her own, “In fact, don’t say anything else. Just focus on breathing slowly, before you have a panic attack.”

Flaky quickly nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, willing her focus to shift from her frantic thoughts to regulating her rapid breathing. Then after a long minute of sitting and counting each deep exhale through her nose, Flaky wiped the beads of sweat from her brow.

Lammy sat down next to Flaky on the bed, pushing the broken phone further away from them before speaking, “Why didn’t you tell me things had gotten bad sooner? On those rare times we did call and text each other… You told me everything was fine. Why did you lie?”

Tears lined Flaky’s eyes when she looked at Lammy, her weak voice reduced to a whisper, “...I was afraid to admit the truth.”

Lammy’s lips formed a tight line as she tried to understand Flaky’s situation. She wanted to keep pressing the subject, but seeing Flaky in such a broken state pushed all her curiosity back.

Instead, Lammy pulled the tearful porcupine into an embrace, stroking her fingers through Flaky’s softened quills, “You’re back here with me now, Flaky, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Flaky wished Lammy’s words were enough to reassure her. But the sheep had no idea about the kind of man Flaky’s ex had become over the last seven years.

A manipulative and dangerous criminal with a tar-black soul. Thriving in a town tainted by corruption. Flaky didn't realize what she'd gotten herself into, until it was too late.

The sound of Lammy’s phone ringing from the other room interrupted their silent embrace. Flaky dried her eyes, watching Lammy have an internal debate about answering the caller.

“I should probably get that, I think I know who that might be,” then Lammy stood to leave, mumbling in annoyance to herself as she hurried out of the room, “...Of all the times to call me!”

While Flaky sat in silence, she could slightly overhear Lammy's voice as she spoke on the phone. Flaky felt compelled to move closer to the door and listen better.

“...Oh no, is he okay?” Flaky heard Lammy ask, followed by a sigh of relief before she spoke again, “Alright, I'll cover for him. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Hearing the end of Lammy’s conversation, Flaky felt uneasy at the idea of being left alone – with her paranoia ridden thoughts more than anything. When she heard Lammy’s footsteps approaching the room, Flaky quickly stepped back from the door before she entered.

The sheep rolled her eyes as she walked into the room again, “So much for my day off. I’m needed at work. One of my colleagues went home because he’s sick... again. That place is so understaffed, it’s unreal.”

“Can I go with you?” Flaky quietly asked, fidgeting with the hems of her sleeves.

Lammy didn't need to question the reason behind the worry in Flaky’s voice, and smiled warmly, “Of course you can, Flakes. We’ll be there until the diner closes though, so let me treat you to dinner.”

~ ~ ~

When Fletcher regained his composure after almost destroying Splendid’s punching bag, he left in search for Flippy to try a more civil conversation with him.

On the loveseat in the living room, Flippy silently read a book he'd chosen from Splendid’s bookcase that stole his interest – an intermediate guide to knitting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd picked up his knitting needles, and after lazily skimming through each page, Flippy figured taking it up as a hobby again might not be a bad idea.

Flippy paused in his quiet moment of reading when he heard Fletcher enter the kitchen from the garage. He stared blankly at the book in his lap, internally praying that his twin’s tantrum had ended.

Fletcher entered the living room with a glass of water in hand, still topless and sweaty from his angry punching session. He collapsed on the sofa opposite to Flippy before gulping down his drink. Then he silently placed the glass on the low table between them, and fetched his cigarette pack from the side pocket if his cargos.

“Want one?” Fletcher asked, holding out the pack towards Flippy – his peace offering to make up for lashing out at him again.

Flippy hesitantly accepted the offer and took one, “...Thanks.” he mumbled.

Fletcher nodded once, lighting his cigarette and taking the first drag before mulling over his next words, “...I think being stuck in that place for five years has rubbed off on me a bit too much...” Fletcher looked away awkwardly, using one hand to smooth back his dishevelled, mossy hair, “...I’m sorry for talkin' shit...”

The blue-eyed bear smiled slightly at his brother’s apology, surprised to hear one from him so soon, “Let's just put it behind us now,” as he watched the yellow-eyed bear fail in hiding his slight restlessness, Flippy raised a brow, “What about you, are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just needed to blow off some steam, y’know?” Fletcher shrugged.

In the silence between them that followed, Flippy continued to skim the pages in the knitting book as he smoked. Fletcher watched as his brother lazily flipped through the pages, until a thought occurred.

“So, how’s things going in that little bookshop of yours?” The scarred twin asked.

At the question, Flippy suddenly frowned at the book on his lap, and quickly shut it. He took his final drag, avoiding Fletcher's curious stare when he confessed, “I closed the store a year ago. Lost interest in the place... It's not like I needed the money, anyway.”

The indifference in Flippy’s attitude towards his second-hand bookstore surprised Fletcher. From what he recalled in their exchanged letters, Flippy expressed nothing but positivity about it. 

In one letter to Fletcher, Flippy had described it as his sanctuary. Not just a place for people to sell their unwanted books, and for others who wanted to buy them, but for Flippy to lose himself in the escapism of reading.

After resigning from the military, Flippy thought of nothing better to do with his money. He'd been pleasantly surprised at how quickly the store accumulated enough books to feel like he owned a personal library.

During the quiet days in the store, Flippy spent most of his time reading the ever-changing expanse of books, claiming his favourite reads to take home instead of putting them on the shelves for sale.

Fletcher assumed he already knew why Flippy had lost interest in the store, and in all the books that were still collecting dust within it. But to avoid mentioning Giggles again, he chose not to ask for his reasons to affirm this.

Instead, Fletcher dropped the end of his cigarette in the empty glass with Flippy’s before leaning back against the sofa. His yellow eyes darted to the clock on the wall – the evening was slowly approaching.

With only hours left before Splendid returned, after finding and capturing his next hit, Fletcher realized he'd soon discover true nature of the ex-hero’s unethical deeds. Realising he'd need to fabricate a lie as to where he and Splendid would be all night, Fletcher watched as his brother continued to read the knitting book, and raked his brain for a plausible reason to give.

“Sooo… Splendid and I had a little discussion about other ways to de-stress earlier, and he suggested heading to the club with him tonight,” Fletcher paused when Flippy stopped reading to incredulously scrutinise him with his narrowed stare.

He could tell his twin found it hard to believe those words, so Fletcher dismissively waved a scarred hand before continuing, “I know what your thinking, and yes, I don’t like clubbing. I’m just gonna try and find myself a lady for the night... I, uh... I haven’t fucked in over five years.”

A half-truth. Fletcher is entirely unbothered by his extended celibacy. But Flippy didn't need to know, and could very easily be swayed into believing he still held interest in such things.

Flippy struggled to word a respond to Fletcher’s immodest statement, “...Uhh... sure. Just stay out of trouble, Fletch. You already know how chaotic it can be in those places.” Flippy insisted, remembering the very reason Fletcher avoided the clubs in the first place – the drunken and drugged party goers were a hazard when it came to his brother's temper.

Fletcher’s throat bobbed at the mention of staying out of trouble – his brother had no idea of the kind of trouble he agreed to partake in with Splendid. But he refrained from thinking about it too much. If Splendid managed this long without Flippy sniffing him out, Fletcher knew he could too.

The scarred bear gave a crude half smile as he stood from the sofa, “Don’t worry too much, Flip, I’m not gonna do anything that might scare away the ladies. And besides, Splendid will keep me under control if things get too crazy.”

Convinced by his brother's words, Flippy dropped his probing stare. But he only nodded and said nothing more, eager to end the conversation about his twin’s sex life.

On his way out to dispose of the cigarette ends in his empty glass, Fletcher halted and eyed Flippy for a moment. Then he assessed the puncture wounds on his arm, finally scabbed over enough to stop bleeding.

Fletcher frowned as he looked at the injury, reliving the moment the crimson-furred porcupine punctured her claws deep into his flesh, and the sensation of his warm blood dripping down his arm that followed.

The scar-speckled bear had the common sense to know he'd insinuated an attack on himself. He threatened both girls in public, and insulted the porcupine.

Fletcher knew his actions were uncalled for. He'd acted out irrationality at the idea of another woman in Flippy’s life – one that could have his gentle brother's heart shattering all over again. Flippy's new female friend had revealed that she's quick to act with violence, and Fletcher didn't like that.

Coming back from prison, finding Flippy so hollow and empty after a deep betrayal, struck a new nerve within Fletcher. Something inside him loathed the idea of another woman taking advantage of his brother again.

If Fletcher had to ensure his twin wouldn't suffer another heartbreak, he'd never hesitate to take matters into his own hands.

After dumping the glass on the kitchen counter and returning to the living room, Fletcher casually asked, “What are your plans for the evening then? I would’ve offered you to join us at the nightclub, but I already know they aren’t your scene either.”

Flippy gave the question some thought. What he really wanted to do was drive back to his motel, but he knew to avoid mentioning that at all costs.

Flippy frowned and awkwardly rubbed his neck, “Well, Dee has been getting on my case about stopping by at his new diner... I’ve been putting him off for a while.” Hearing himself admit his own avoidant behaviour made him feel incredibly pitiful.

Fletcher flashed an encouraging grin, patted Flippy’s shoulder and walked past him to head for the stairs, “You should go there, Flippy. Knock a few cold ones back and relax,” he halted before ascending the stairs to add, “And while you’re at it, tell Dee I haven’t forgotten about that drink Pop still owes me after all these years.”

“...Will do.”

The blue-eyed bear sat in silence when Fletcher left, rubbing a hand over his face before resting his chin on it. Of all the things to say, he'd picked something that left him with no choice but to go out tonight. The opposite of what Flippy wanted to do.

While Flippy does remember agreeing to be one of their first customers in the new diner, his newfound longing for solitude kept on getting in his way, and the bear ended up bailing on every day he'd agreed to visit.

The constant ticking of the clock echoed in his ears, growing louder and louder with each passing second as he debated venturing out. His hardened gaze assessed the time. Flippy noted that he had plenty of time to get the diner visit finished. Then on his way back, he could make a quick stop at his parent's home to ensure Giggles followed his instructions to leave. He really hoped she saw his note.

Flippy felt slightly less reluctant to go out, but only because Giggles is a sitting duck in their home if his note went unnoticed by her. As much as his stomach turned at the idea of seeing her, Flippy knew Fletcher's reaction would result in tragedy if he did find the chipmunk in their home. But the unavoidable backlash he'd receive from his hot-tempered twin afterwards worried Flippy the most.

With a change of plan forced upon him, Flippy stood from the sofa to fetch his jacket from the coat rack. The first trip had to be the diner – he needed a few hard spirits before he could stomach facing Giggles.

~ ~ ~

On their way to the diner, Flaky quietly watched the streets pass by in a blur from her window with an unfocused stare. The late evening approached, and the sun’s slow descent lined the clouds with a fiery glow, painting the summer sky with captivating shades of orange and pink. The summer skies in the town she left were never as pleasant to behold.

Ravengate. A fitting name for a sinister town. Just thinking of the place spurred unpleasant chills trailing down Flaky’s spine. Its dirty and gloomy streets, permeated with violence and criminal activity – nothing like the ones in Harptree.

Flaky let her eyes linger on the many smiling faces they passed, warmth pooling in her heart. Harptree. Home. The porcupine slowly began to realise just how much she'd missed being in her home town.

Lammy slowed down her car to stop at a red light, then began hastily rummaging through the compartment between their seats for something, “Crap...”

“What is it?” Flaky asked, turning her head from the window.

“There should be a strip of pills in my glovebox in front of you. Could you check please?” Lammy asked. She then laughed nervously and continued at the green light, “I don’t usually forget to take them.”

Flaky quickly popped the small compartment box open and searched carefully. The small storage space was empty aside from a case for sunglasses, and underneath it is where Flaky’s fingers brushed over the pill strip.

“These?” Flaky asked, holding them up.

Lammy spared a quick glance from the road and grinned, exhaling a sigh of relief, “...Phew.”

At the next red light, Lammy quickly popped one pill from the pack and put the rest away. Flaky discreetly caught a small glance at the label on the strip in time before Lammy put them away, confirming her assumption that the medication is an antipsychotic. But it reassured her to know Lammy has managed well with her lasting condition during their time apart.

As they drove past the mall of the town, Flaky turned her attention to the sky again. But while approaching the far end of the road, Flaky recalled a detail about the area they were driving through.

“Hey... is that outdoor roller rink still down this road?” Flaky asked.

Lammy smiled, “Funny you should ask. Remember that abandoned building by the rink? Well, the two bears I work for bought the place and refurbished it into a diner.”

Flaky pursed her lips to the side in thought, “...Does that mean the roller rink is gone?”

Lammy shook her head and chuckled, “No, not at all! It’s actually part of the diner now. There’s a sheltered outdoor seating area next to it, you’ll see!”

They entered the small parking lot by the diner, and Flaky straightened in her seat to see the roller rink. When she saw it, a small cluster of her childhood memories rekindled at the front of her mind.

Growing up together in their years of youth, Flaky and Lammy wasted their free time outside of school at the same roller rink. Lammy was always the natural out of the two when it came to skating, but after plenty of practice, and painful falls, Flaky eventually believed in herself enough to find her balance.

Flaky watched as a small group of friends in the rink weaved in and out of each other. Some moved with the grace of seasoned skaters, others were a little on the clumsy side. The latter reminded the porcupine of her younger self, learning for the first time with very little confidence on wheels. Flaky had a feeling that her own skills will be rusty after all this time.

Lammy exited the car first, and made her way to the trunk. Flaky followed after her, and watched as Lammy perched on the edge of the trunk to remove her shoes and then swap them for a pair of white, quad-wheeled roller skates.

“You’re wearing those for work?” Flaky asked, raising a brow.

Lammy chuckled, “Yep. The diner is very retro. You’ll understand why when you meet one of the owners.”

As they approached the diner, Flaky observed the establishment. The sign stole her attention first, a vibrant orange neon light with the name of the diner: ‘Bell Bottoms & Burgers’

The abandoned two-story warehouse has been transformed into a retro-themed, casual restaurant. Tall glass windows made up the expanse of the building’s front wall, offering a clear view inside. They entered through the sliding doors and heard a baritone voice chime from the bar in the centre of the diner’s space.

With the vibrant sunset tones that decorated the restaurant, the bright orange afro on the man’s head almost blended into the background. With silky, golden fur, the bear donned a yellow two-piece suit that had flared bell-bottom pants – Flaky could tell the suave bear is one of the owners Lammy mentioned, and likely the person behind the diner’s name.

“Thanks for helping out, lamb chop, I’ll give you that extra day off next week as promised.” The bear finished serving a customer their soda as he spoke, then skated over to the two girls from behind the bar, “Who do we have here then?”

The golden-furred bear turned his attention on Flaky, and he flashed a playful smile. But his grin faltered slightly when he saw the fading bruise around her eye.

“Dee, this is my best friend, Flaky. She’ll be here with me until I finish, you don’t mind, do you?” Lammy said.

The bear noticed Flaky awkwardly look away from his gaze, so he reassured her in a friendly tone, “Any friend of Lammy’s is a welcome one. Take a seat wherever you like, honey.”

Flaky only nodded and turned to find a secluded place to sit. The diner had a spacious seating area for the skating servers to maneuver with ease. Booths lined the edges of the restaurant, and around the enclosed bar at the back were tall round tables with stools.

Flaky took one look at the booths and made a beeline to the first empty one she could find. Then she went to unbutton her cardigan and remove it, but halted right before taking it off, realising the bruises on her wrists were still very visible.

Lammy followed behind her after finishing a quiet conversation with DB, who returned to his work at the bar, then took she a small notepad from her apron pocket.

“We close at ten, so we have about three hours. Are you hungry?” She asked.

Flaky’s mouth tilted to the side, “...Not really.”

Lammy’s tone became insistent, “But you haven’t eaten anything since lunchtime, and that was only a small pastry at the café!”

Flaky admired Lammy’s mother-hen attitude towards her, but she couldn't find it in herself to feel hunger. However, the disheartened expression on the sheep’s face became too much for Flaky in that moment, so she turned away and reached for the menu in the wooden holder.

“I’ll see what they have, okay? Then I’ll let you know.” Flaky said, offering a smile that barely reached her eyes.

Unconvinced by her words, Lammy forced a smile back, “All right, Flakes. I’m gonna clock in for my shift, shout me over if you want something.”

Then Lammy turned to skate towards the back of the restaurant, and Flaky let her gaze sweep across the diner. The atmosphere of the dining area seemed more calm that she’d anticipated. No surprise to Flaky, disco music softly blared from the speakers in all corners of the restaurant, accompanied by the low idle chatter of other customers.

The people around paid her no mind, which put Flaky slightly more at ease. She loathed the idea of attention from strangers, and the potential awkward conversations they'd force her into after spotting her bruised eye.

After lazily flitting her tired gaze over the menu, Flaky lost interest in its contents and placed it back. She then folded her arms to lie on them as comfortably as she could, deciding to rest while waiting for Lammy.

After clocking in for her shift, Lammy made her way back through the kitchen to speak with the chef, “Hey, Pop. When you get a quiet moment between orders, could you do me a favour?”

The tall, broad and tan-furred bear removed a steak from the grill and added it to a plate beside him. Lammy approached the meal that was almost ready to be served while waiting for an answer from the man.

He removed his maroon cap, then used his arm to wipe sweat from his brow, and answered in a relaxed, deep voice, “Sure, Lams, what is it?”

“I brought a friend here... you know... the one I told you about yesterday,” Lammy started in a hushed tone for the bear’s ears only, “I was wondering if you could make her something. It’ll be on my tab, of course.”

“Sure. Put it through as an order with Dee and I’ll get to it as soon as I can. What'll it be?” Pop asked, placing his cap back onto his head.

Lammy thought for a moment, then smiled, “Make your best spicy tomato soup, with focaccia bread on the side. She loves spicy food, there’s no way she’ll refuse it.”

With a curt nod, Pop smiled and continued his work in the kitchen. With a meal ready for serving balanced on one hand, Lammy smoothly wheeled her way out of the kitchen to deliver it to the right table, then aimed for the bar to place an order.

Before Flaky had the chance to drift off, a sudden insistent tapping on her shoulder forced her out of a peaceful sleep. Her unfocused eyes only offered blurry vision as she tried to examine the person by her table.

“Hey, you gonna order somethin’, lady?”

Flaky sat up and rubbed her eyes, then met the stare of a short, tan-furred bear beside her, “Um... no thank you, I’m just waiting for Lammy.”

The boy only shrugged and skated away to occupy himself with something else. Flaky lay her head back down again and closed her eyes, hoping to find that place of comfort inside her head once more to drift off into sleep.

But when a tray of food is placed on her table, close enough for Flaky to catch the enticing aroma of spice and rich tomato, her rest is disturbed once more. Hesitantly, she peeled an eye open to assess, thinking the meal had been delivered to her table by mistake.

Until she saw Lammy smiling brightly down at her, “I’m leaving this here for you, okay? It’s on me, so don’t worry about paying. Enjoy!”

Then the sheep skated away with a wink, flicking her curly ponytail over her shoulder. But behind Lammy’s enthusiasm, she hoped to return later and find empty dishes on Flaky's table.

Now alone with the food, Flaky felt tempted to leave the meal untouched, longing for a nap to pass the time. But she failed to ignore the appetizing aroma emitting from the food. It didn't take long for hunger to awaken, grumbling in her stomach, so Flaky slid the food a little closer to take a look.

Instantly, she knew the bowl contained tomato soup, with a savoury blend of spices. The side plate had a serving of focaccia bread topped with herbs. Then she spotted the milkshake at the end of the table.

The colourful cup design masked all hints of its flavour, so Flaky brought the striped straw to her lips and took a small sip. Undoubtedly caramel flavoured – her favourite.

One sip was enough to finally bring back her appetite in full swing. So she savoured the meal at a leisurely pace. Flaky eventually cleared the soup, left a portion of the bread, and managed half of the milkshake.

After tidying any mess she'd made, she moved the plates aside. A full stomach welcomed fatigue much easier, and when Flaky rested on the table again, she fell into a deep sleep within minutes.

~ ~ ~

When Flippy left Splendid’s home, Fletcher had spent a considerable amount of time pacing back and forth in the bedroom, internally arguing with himself. Part of him felt childlike excitement knowing what he'd soon be doing after nightfall, but his logical thinking kept snuffing this out. Knowing the risks, he struggled to predict if this decision could strip away his freedom.

To somewhat ease his racing mind, Fletcher vowed to take Splendid down with him, if they were caught in this deeply incriminating act.

Waiting for nightfall in the middle of summer felt like an eternity. Fletcher grew restless while anticipating the call from Splendid to ride to the edge of Ravengate – the neighbouring town where the ex-hero’s felonious employer resided. From there, Splendid had told him nothing else.

Fletcher is hardly foolish enough to pry for more information than necessary. Keeping his distance from the rest of their unlawful business is in his best interests, especially if he's determined to stay away from prison.

To stop his restless pacing, Fletcher decided to get some air and check on his bike. He needed to ensure it was ready for the road after so many years.

So he made his way downstairs and searched the coat rack for his leather jacket, then headed to the garage. But when he stuffed both hands into his pockets, his knuckles brushed over sharp metal. Curiously, Fletcher removed it, only to discover a set of keys.

He recognised them without fail. The keys to their parent’s home. Fletcher checked the leather jacket he'd put on and realised Flippy must have mixed their jackets up before leaving, taking his instead. But now, the scarred bear had an opportunity to see his home after five long years.

He shoved the keys back into the pocket and continued towards the garage, thinking to himself, ‘I should’ve visited home sooner...’

With an opportunity to inspect the full condition of his cruiser before the journey to Ravengate, Fletcher used one of Splendid’s fuel cans to top up the motorbike before making the short trip to his late parent’s home. The bear couldn't wait to enter the house and feel its nostalgic embrace.

Soon, Fletcher parked his cruiser outside his home, then removed his helmet. All the curtains were drawn shut. Except for one window on the second floor, giving away signs of life inside. His eyes darted to the side of the house, assessing the closed doors of the garage.

But it quickly dawned on him that when he left Splendid's, Flippy was still there. Fletcher refused to believe that his brother could arrive here before him when there was no sign of his pickup truck.

A silhouette swiftly moved past the window, but Fletcher failed to distinguish the person inside. He didn't sit on his bike and wait to find an answer. He closed the space between himself and the front door and tried the handle. Locked.

He snatched the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door with haste. Foul anger boiled under his skin when a feminine fragrance engulfed his senses from within the house.

Agitation viciously brewed in his chest knowing a potential woman is lurking in his home. Fletcher stormed right to the stairs and charged his way towards the room with the open curtains – Flippy’s bedroom.

Fletcher spared no time for a polite knock on the bedroom door and flung it open to investigate Flippy's reasons for sneaking off to their home behind his back.

The smell of perfume assaulted his senses with a vengeance as he rushed into Flippy’s bedroom. After sweeping his stern gaze around the room, he saw no one.

Women’s clothing lay strewn on the floor. The dresser held an abundance of beauty products and jewellery. It became glaringly obvious that a woman has been living here comfortably. Too comfortably.

Fletcher’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he grumbled with irritation while retrieving it. He saw Splendid’s name on the screen, so he answered.

“Fletcher, it's time. Are you ready to meet?”

Fletcher’s narrowed, acid-yellow eyes scoped the room again, “Not yet...” He paused, hearing a thud from somewhere in the house.

Then, in a hushed and menacing voice, he spoke into the phone one final time, “Flippy’s hidden the fact that some bitch is in our house. I’m not going anywhere ‘til I’ve dealt with whoever she is...”

Then right before he heard Splendid try and squeeze a word in, Fletcher ended their call.

On high alert, Fletcher’s ears twitched as he listened out for even the smallest sounds within the house. Unless he'd mistaken the figure in the window for some kind of paranormal entity, the trespasser is doing a good job at hiding. For now.

After a thorough inspection of all possible hiding spaces that Flippy’s bedroom offered, Fletcher stepped back into the hallway, eyeing every other room with a thunderous glare.

Of all the doors to the rooms upstairs, he saw one open ajar – their late parent’s room. As his laced boots trudged unhurriedly towards the open door, Fletcher seethed in his mind, ‘Whoever has the gall to defile that room better start praying for a fucking miracle...’

To add a sprinkle of relief over his worries about his late parents having a tampered bedroom, everything looked spotless when he examined the area.

Unfortunately for the person trying desperately to remain hidden, the ex-soldier easily heard their clumsy attempt at keeping quiet underneath his parent’s old bed.

He marched to the end of the wooden bed, and fixed his grip underneath. Then in a swift motion, he effortlessly hoisted it up.

To his surprise, he locked eyes with a young man, a yellow-furred rabbit, who frantically scrambled from underneath the bed.

Fletcher dropped the bed and rushed to close the space between them, gripping the rabbit's T-shirt with a promise of threat, “Who the fuck are you?! How did you get in my house?!”

In a panic, the man's long ears pinned back flat against his head, and he submissively held up both hands in his attempt to form coherent words, “L-Look man, I don’t want any trouble! She t-told me she didn’t have a man! I swear!”

Fletcher’s menacing scowl faltered for a moment at his words, but he kept his tone firm, tightening his grip on the rabbit’s shirt, “She? Who are you talking about?”

“Put him down!” A female's voice bellowed from the doorway.

Fletcher froze, his hand releasing the fabric of the young man’s shirt. The rabbit didn't hesitate to scurry away and join the girl standing outside the doorway.

The scarred bear tried to take a deep breath. Bottled as much of his rage as possible before he completely lost it.

But that voice. It grated his ears so badly, it almost drove him into tearing them off his head.

With teeth gritted hard enough to ache his jaw, Fletcher set his deathly scowl on the young woman standing in the doorway, and spoke with unsettling calmness, “Giggles... If you’re in my parent's home as twisted trial of fate to see if I can allow you to leave here in one piece, I’m afraid it won’t end in your favour.”

Giggles didn't wait for Fletcher to finish his sentence.  She slammed the bedroom door, trapping the furious bear within the room.

“Fletcher, please calm down and let me explain!” The pink chipmunk frantically pleaded, gesturing for the rabbit to aid her in holding the door handle firmly in place.

But Fletcher ignored her, already raging on the other side of the door, “FUCK YOUR EXPLANATION, WHORE! LET ME OUT NOW!”

Both Giggles and the young man exchanged terrified looks, realising their strength combined won't keep the door shut for very long.

“This was Flippy’s idea, not mine! Please will you stop this nonsense!” Giggles begged, her palms sweating from sheer effort to keep the door handle in place.

But Fletcher spared no time for reasoning in his state of fury. He abandoned the door handle. Using his shoulder, he threw his weight into the wooden door.

At the first impact, the panicking couple on the other side watched in fear as the wood trembled under the bear’s brute force.

“You treated my brother like shit, you cheated on him, and now you think you can stay here?! You’re fucking DEAD!”

Giggles tried to desperately think of a way out of this situation. But with no options left, the pink girl hopelessly stepped back from the door, mentally praying to the Gods for mercy.

The door began to splinter and crack with each thud. They only had mere seconds before the hysterical bear broke free.

The rabbit watched pure dread flood Giggles’s expression as she waited for the inevitable to happen.

Crack.

The door violently flew off its hinges.

The moment Fletcher came barrelling through the broken door, the rabbit swiftly pushed Giggles out of harm’s way.

Giggles hit the floor, eyes wide with disbelief, “Cuddles, no!”

But he refused to listen, attempting to give Giggles enough time to escape, “Run!”

Fletcher looked down at the slightly shorter man trying to act as a shield for Giggles, and his snarl twisted into cruel amusement, “You should’ve heeded your own advice, bunny boy.”

Cuddles’s heart leapt into his throat when Fletcher’s hand wrapped around his neck, pinning him against the nearest wall.

The scarred bear’s better judgement would've stopped him from doing something this rash, especially after only just tasting freedom again.

But the boiling rage coursing through his veins blurred the lines between right and wrong. All he could see was red.

Elevated from the floor by his neck, the young man clawed and kicked at Fletcher to no avail. Giggles found a shred of courage to intervene, hastily standing once more with trembling legs.

In that moment, only the sight of Cuddle's face turning purple fueled her with the nerve to try and stop Fletcher.

But as she lunged for Fletcher’s back, something came soaring up the stairs, crashing into Fletcher with astonishing speed. This granted Cuddles the moment he needed to escape the bear’s threatening grip.

While desperately gasping for air to fill his lungs once more, the rabbit scrambled to his feet. He only spared Giggles one look of pure terror before fleeing down the stairs to escape.

Giggles watched him bolt like a race hare, anger brewing inside when realizing he'd left her to face the terrible predicament alone. But relief soon replaced her resentment, knowing he'd gotten away unharmed, at least.

With Fletcher restrained on the ground, Giggles turned her attention to the man responsible for the heroic intervention, “Splendid! Oh, thank God-!”

“Spare me your gratitude, please. You have two minutes to grab your important belongings and leave. I suggest you hurry up.” The azure male cut her off sharply, surprised by the extent of his strength being used to keep Fletcher detained on the ground.

Pinned under the super strength of Splendid, Fletcher became utterly deranged, “Are you fucking serious?! Why are you letting that bitch get away with this?!”

Splendid gave no response, focusing on keeping the enraged bear restrained so Giggles could scurry around the house, stuffing her things into a suitcase.

Only when he heard the garage door open, and the sound of the chipmunk flooring it away in her car, did Splendid decide to release Fletcher. He lingered close to him after standing, watching and waiting on the panting bear's next move.

The squirrel let out an exasperated sigh, “...Are you gonna chill the fuck out now? Or do I need to knock you out next?”

As Fletcher still teetered on the edge of rampant anger, he did the only thing he could to seize his impulsive rage, and willed his body to remain still. He knew there's nothing he could do without the squirrel stopping him regardless, so he saved the little energy he had left.

After finding enough composure, Fletcher slowly pushed himself from the floor to sit, leaning back against the wall that they'd crashed against.

“How can you expect me to be chill? Since coming back from one place that pissed me off to no end, every fucking day, there’s some new bullshit popping out of the woodworks to piss me off! What do you expect me to do?!”

Splendid paused for a moment, opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again and awkwardly looked away, “...I don’t know what to say to you, Fletcher. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

When the words processed, the scarred bear slowly looked up from the ground to leer at Splendid, “...You son of a bitch… you knew?”

The squirrel sighed and apologetically raised his hands, “...Before you get angry, yes, I knew. But Flippy made me promise him that I'd keep this from you, because he already knew what would happen if you found out…” Splendid then gestured to the chaotic mess that surrounded them from the scuffle, “…You already proved him right.”

Fletcher had to move away from the ex-hero, before impulsively doing something he'd later regret. So Splendid stepped aside when the bear stormed past him to hurry down the stairs.

Of course, the azure male followed behind Fletcher to ensure he stayed within his sight during his unpredictable state of aggravation. He trailed him to his parked cruiser, watching as the bear reached for his helmet.

Concerned about the bear's next course of action, Splendid moved closer and halted him, “Where are you going now?”

Fletcher leered at Splendid for a moment, still seething over prior events. But his stern features soon melted into subtle sarcasm as he firmly patted the squirrel’s shoulder.

“I dunno, man. Either I go and look for Flippy and deal with him while I’m still raring to fuck something up, or we meet at Ravengate and torture this little hostage you wrapped up for me instead. Which one?”

Splendid rolled his eyes, but gave the scarred bear a half smile, “Meet me at the edge of town, stick to the main road through the forest-”

“I know where it is, dumbass,” Fletcher chuckled, his smug expression disappearing under his helmet as he placed it on, “I’ve been there.”

That said, Fletcher geared up and ignited his motorcycle to life, revving its engine before zooming off.

Fletcher already having set foot in a dreadful place like Ravengate came as news to Splendid. But as the squirrel departed to locate his hidden gear in the forest again, he figured a town as sinister as the scarred bear probably felt like home to him.

~ ~ ~

After sifting through old threads of exchanged messages with DB, Flippy found the location of the new diner. He couldn't stifle the shame he felt while scrolling through the messages, seeing how often he'd ignored his friend. But the orange-haired bear never gave up the effort to reach out with hopes to see Flippy again, and the thought alone made him regret avoiding all means of socializing.

In case he did end up consuming alcohol there, if the diner served any, Flippy left his pickup truck behind and opted for a peaceful walk, hoping to arrive with a clear head. The evening air felt cooler as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

By the time Flippy made it to the diner, faint stars glittered across the darkening sky. The bear took a moment to assess the refurbished building, noticing its colour scheme resembled a vibrant sunset of its own.

He read the neon writing on the sign while approaching the entrance, shaking his head with amusement as he thought to himself, ‘Bellbottoms and Burgers... Dee, you really have outdone yourself.’

When the automatic doors parted for him, Flippy didn't need to look very far before his vision landed on his friend – he spotted the golden bear’s fiery afro bobbing back and forth as he worked. Flippy wasted no time and went straight towards him, then took a seat at the bar.

Dee's grin almost split his face in half when he noticed Flippy, “Colour me stunned, you’re actually here!” The smooth-talking bear flashed a mirthful half-smile, “Fancy a drink? It’ll be on the house," he paused to lean in and whisper, "just don’t make it obvious to the other folks here.”

Flippy looked at the arrangement of beverages on display inside bar, “...I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks, please.”

Dee nodded turned away to fetch a short glass, then dropped in three ice cubes. After pouring the whiskey, he then expertly slid the glass down Flippy’s side of the bar for him to catch with ease.

“Soo, Flip... It’s been a while, eh?” The golden-furred bear jested with a wink.

Flippy took a small sip, then set down the glass before slipping him an apologetic look, “You’re right. To be honest, I just didn’t want to let everyone see me out of spirits... but I didn’t intend for my time alone to last this long.”

Dee patted the green bear’s shoulder and grinned, “It’s cool, man, I understand. Was just checking up on you every now and then, you know? We’ve been worried about you.”

Hearing this, guilt jabbed inside Flippy’s chest. Being alone for prolonged periods of time isn't something Flippy found unpleasant. But learning his close friends had been concerned about his well-being for the whole duration made him wish he'd pulled himself out of a rut sooner.

The least Flippy figured he could do is assure them he won't disappear again, “I’m a lot better now. You’ll see more of me from now on.”

“Good to hear, my man!” The orange-haired bear beamed another grin at Flippy, then fluffed up his afro when he saw other customers approaching the bar, “Enjoy your drink, Flippy, shout me if you want another.”

While Flippy shot a friendly nod and turned to leave the bar, he almost missed the sight of a waitress skating past, a plate of food balanced on her hand. With his well-timed reflexes, he managed to step back before knocking into her.

The girl halted, right after drifting past him, and turned to face him with a narrowed, analysing glare. Flippy raised a brow, wondering why the lilac sheep first expressed such alarm when she saw him.

“You,” The waitress pointedly called to him, “What’s your name?” Her question sounded more demanding than curious.

The bear grew confused by the sheep’s bitter attitude towards him, “...Flippy...”

His name seemed to partially ease the young woman, because she lowered her guard, but only slightly, “...Fine. Don’t cause any trouble here.” Then she turned to continue working.

Curiously, he waited, glancing back to see where she'd go after serving the customer, trying to discern the reason for her odd behaviour.

The waitress scanned the restaurant for another table to tend, narrowing on one across the seating area from where she stood. Then Flippy watched as the sheep wheeled her way towards a booth at the far wall.

When she gathered the empty plates from the table and skated away with them, Flippy caught the sight of a familiar shade of crimson - Flaky, sat alone in the booth.

When the sheep disappeared into the kitchen, Flippy downed the rest of his whiskey and set the glass on the bar. The liquid blazed a warm trail down his throat, and he fixed his gaze on the porcupine as he made his way towards her.

When he quietly approached and saw Flaky resting on her arms, he realised she'd fallen asleep. Flippy stopped to quietly watch her for a moment. Her face looked so peaceful, nothing like the stress-hardened expression he'd seen the other night. Flippy wished he could leave her undisturbed, if only his determination to speak with her didn't feel so adamant.

Realising he had been standing awkwardly by her table and staring had him sitting down eventually. Flippy tried his best efforts to politely wake Flaky from sleep, reaching to gently tap her shoulder and whisper her name as low as he could.

The moment his finger touched her, the porcupine jolted out of her sleep, still under a haze of disorientation after waking up as she raised her head to focus on him.

“...Lammy?” She tiredly mumbled, rubbing her eyes. In the moment she refocused enough to see green, Flaky gasped and lurched back against the leather seat.

Startled by her fear, Flippy raised his hands to express that he meant no harm, “I didn’t mean to scare you, Flaky,” He then smiled, hoping to bring her some reassurance, “It’s me, Flippy, remember?”

Flaky’s frantic eyes managed to fixate on Flippy’s long enough to recognise his familiar shade of blue. She soon calmed down enough to relax her shoulders again.

But Flaky still felt on edge and hesitant to speak with the bear, avoiding all eye contact as she fidgeted with her sleeves, “If... If you’re here about what I did to your brother, I-I’m really sorry...”

Flippy thought for a moment. Then remembered the wounds on Fletcher’s arm.

He softly shook his head, “No, I’m not here because of that. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

When Flaky heard this, she timidly met his eyes once more. A hint of worry still crinkled her green eyes, and she only nodded as a response, pulling her sleeves over her fingers.

Flippy watched as she hid her hands, and calmly rested his hands on the table to interlock his own.

The bear smiled warmly at Flaky, then chuckled slightly, “Whatever my brother did to end up getting clawed, I can bet he definitely deserved it. I hope you don’t think that I’m mad at you, Flaky.”

Finally, the red porcupine ceased her worried expression, and slowly folded her arms, “...All right. I hope he’s okay...” She barely met his eyes as she spoke, riddled with an awkward feeling of shame.

Before Flippy could say another word, the sound of skates wheeling quickly towards them halted his speech, and he turned to notice the waitress from earlier approaching them fast.

“I can see that you’re uncomfortable from the other side of the restaurant, Flaky. Is this man giving you trouble?” Her words were firm and imposing, and her violet glare snapped on to him.

Flippy looked dumfounded when Lammy pinned him with an accusatory stare, and before things escalated, Flaky frantically waved her hands, “No, not at all, Lammy! This is Flippy... This is the man who brought me to you the other night.”

Lammy’s scrutiny didn't falter, heavily guarded ever since the mishap with the bear’s yellow-eyed brother. She pursed her lips and lowered her voice, “I’m glad to meet you, sir. If I see that you are anything like your brother, I’ll make sure you aren’t welcome in here again.”

Flaky awkwardly fidgeted with the quills framing her face, watching as Lammy skated away, then she buried her face into her hands and mumbled, “I’m sorry about that...”

Flippy flashed a sincere smile, “You don’t have to be. If anything, I want to apologise about my brother... May I ask what happened?”

Flaky sat up a little straighter as she thought back to the mall, “Well... I saw the back of him… I saw the same hair and fur colour as yours. But when I approached him to see if it was you, he got a little bit... Irritated? I don’t know, he just looked... mad.”

Flippy didn't appear surprised, “He always looks that way,” then concern furrowed his brow, "Did he do anything to upset you?"

Flaky hesitated, breaking away from his gaze to try and mull over her words. Recalling the scarred twin's provocative insult filled her with embarrassment, and she tried hard not to show it, "...Not really."

“Don’t you dare sugar-coat it, Flaky! Tell him what he called you, and then what he did!” Lammy’s voice caught them both off guard as wheeled back to their table. Again.

Flippy’s eyes darted back to Flaky, full of concern as he waited for her to speak. But she couldn't find words under Lammy’s pressing stare.

So the sheep lowered her voice to an angry whisper, “He called Flaky a harlot. Pretty rude thing to say to a lady, don’t you think?”

Flaky’s brows knitted with stress, as she eyed the other customers who noticed their conversation, “Please, Lammy, can we not speak about this in here?”

The sheep heard Flaky's urgency in her plea, so she backed away from their table.

Then after regaining her composure again, for the sake of the customers, Lammy rolled her eyes, and calmly said, “...I may have angered your brother a little bit too much by pointing in his face... He didn’t like that, so-”

“I clawed him,” Flaky ended Lammy’s sentence before she could, trying to end the topic faster, “He grabbed Lammy and... I panicked... I know I shouldn’t have attacked him. But you said you will express our sincere apologies to him, didn’t you, Flippy?”

Flippy blinked in surprise when Flaky mentioned something he never said, but then quickly nodded and replied when Lammy’s stare burned through him, “Yes. I’ll have words with my brother, for sure.”

With a defeated sigh, the lilac girl faced Flaky with a tight smile, “All right then, Flakes.” But Lammy then turned to Flippy with a stern, earnest expression, “Go ahead and give my apologies to your brother... Then tell him to stay the fuck away from me.”

The moment Lammy left them alone again, Flaky quietly cleared her throat to snatch Flippy’s attention. She revealed two cigarettes between her fingers and offered him one.

When he met her green eyes, there was a secretive glint behind them, “Will you... Come outside with me?”

Flaky was already buttoning her cardigan before Flippy could answer, “Sure, sounds good.”

After getting a harsh interrogation from Flaky's friend, getting some air, and space from whatever that was, seemed very appealing to Flippy in that moment.

He allowed her to stand first and lead them away from the booth towards the main doors. Flippy found himself so distracted by admiring the long scarlet quills that trailed down to Flaky's legs, he failed to notice Lammy watching him with a thunderous leer from the bar.

When Flippy slowed to a halt outside the diner, Flaky continued to walk further away from the diner – away from the front windows, he figured. So he sped up his pace to catch up.

“I can tell your friend cares about you a lot,” He mused, “She’s very protective of you.”

Flaky laughed softly, “You have no idea, she doesn’t even know that I smoke sometimes. She'd be so mad at me...”

Flippy found himself smiling when he heard more comfort in her tone, “It’s not for everyone, I suppose.”

When Flaky passed him a cigarette, she turned back towards the diner, ensuring Lammy hadn't followed them by chance. Now standing at the edge of the parking lot, and partially masked by the cars, Flaky held up her lighter for Flippy, then lit her own.

“I thought I’d give you one back, since you let me have one the other night.” Flaky started, shyly gesturing to her cigarette.

Flippy’s smile held nothing but charm as he looked down at her, “You didn’t have to give me one back, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

When silence fell between them, Flippy allowed his gaze to discreetly linger on Flaky’s face as she idly looked around them. He could tell the bruise around her eye will soon disappear.

But when he looked down at her arms, the cardigan's sleeves hid her injured wrists from his view – he never forgot about those.

The first sight of them set his mind racing to figure out what could have possibly caused them to blemish around her wrists that way. But the few ways that he could think of left him feeling unsettled.

The questions left unsaid when she'd left his truck that night came barrelling down on him again. But Flippy held his tongue and tried to appreciate the pleasant silence between them.

Occasionally, Flaky met his eyes as she took small drags of her cigarette. Then she'd bashfully look away, feeling the subtle intensity in his friendly gaze.

Flippy broke their silence first, hoping he could slowly ease into questions about their unusual encounter, “Are you from around here?”

Flaky nodded, “I grew up here. I moved to another town a few years back... But things didn’t really work out in the end.”

As Flaky admitted this, she averted her eyes to the ground. Hiding the obvious pain behind them became much easier when the other person couldn't see.

However, Flippy could tell she held more in her claim than she let on, but refused to pry too deeply, “I’m sorry to hear that...”

The porcupine met his blue eyes, smiling weakly at him. Then she looked away again, her voice hollow as she spoke, “It’s my own fault. I should've listened to my friend. She was right. I never should have left...”

Flippy knew she spoke about Lammy when he noticed Flaky staring into the diner.

The bear finished his smoke first and flicked the end into a trash bin close by, then he warmly beamed down at Flaky, “At least you’re back here where you’re safe with your friend, right?”

Flaky stared blankly at the bear and failed to give a sure answer. Uncertainty flooded her features, halting her words before they could escape.

Flippy knew his words were enough to evoke the kind of response he needed for at least one of his unanswered questions – is she really as safe as she claims to be?

Flaky brushed her crimson quills over her shoulder and forced a confident smile, “I am safe now, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

A lie. Flippy found it glaringly obvious in the way she quickly shifted on her feet, avoiding his eye contact even more. The bear turned to look at the diner, then looked back at Flaky as she finished her cigarette. As much as it pained him, Flippy decided to drop the topic for now, and allowed Flaky to believe that he bought her blatant lie.

Fate must have wanted them to cross paths again, so Flippy couldn't ruin this chance by scaring Flaky away, smothering her with his concern. He found an opportunity to get to know her better first.

So, after running a hand through his mossy hair to smooth it back, Flippy smiled down at Flaky, “I was thinking of heading back to the bar, can I buy you a drink?”

She had no idea why his offer made warmth creep under her cheeks, but Flaky felt grateful to have fur that masked the subtle blush when she shyly answered, “...Um, sure. That would be nice.”

Chapter Text

After a journey on the road through the forest, Fletcher accelerated when his tyres touched smooth asphalt. It wouldn’t be much longer now until he neared the town sign of Ravengate – easy to distinguish with its threatening graffiti and bullet holes.

When he finally reached the sign, he slowed down to a halt at the side of the rural road. Under the star-speckled sky, the outer roads of Ravengate were swallowed by darkness, void of artificial light sources.

So Fletcher shut off his bike, hoping to blend into the night. Now in the unwelcoming territory of crime-infested grounds, he wanted to avoid as much attention as possible.

After stepping off his cruiser, he removed his helmet to store it in the bike’s tail bag, then shook out his hair. Fletcher patted down the pockets of his black cargos until he found his cigarettes, hoping to kill some time until Splendid made an appearance.

As much as he tried to keep his mind off the infuriating situation in his home, Fletcher couldn’t barricade the thoughts behind anything else. The thoughts tormented him with visions of Giggles living in his parent’s home. Rent free.

His home. One thing Fletcher knew for certain is Splendid better stay close by when he faces Flippy again. He's afraid of what he might do during their inevitable confrontation.

Fletcher fought to smother his growing anger, but the throbbing in his temples crept behind his eyes, forcing them shut. The fire in his blood – the one that burned with a ravenous lust for violence – is never easy to extinguish. Still, the bite of nicotine flooded his system, granting Fletcher a fleeting distraction.

In his simmering restlessness, Fletcher began to pace as he smoked and muttered under his breath, “Where the fuck are you...?”

By the side of the road, a sudden quiet rustling within the overgrown shrubs alerted his senses, making his ear twitch.

Fletcher fixed his stare towards the vicinity of noise. He would’ve assumed it was a small animal, scurrying around in the shrubs, and thought nothing more of it.

But in the outskirts of Ravengate, Fletcher wouldn’t take his chances. Something, or someone, more dangerous could be lurking

Spurred by impatience, Fletcher retrieved his Bowie knife from the leather sheath on his belt. Then he approached with slow, silent steps.

The rustling became vigorous and seemed to edge closer. Fletcher raised his knife, ready to attack with deadly precision.

Then a jet-black silhouette emerged from the shrubs. Fletcher didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward with his blade, braced with a lateral strike.

But a firm grip seized Fletcher’s wrist before his blade could reach its target. The unfaltering strength of their hand was enough for the bear to realize who he almost tried to stab.

The dark clad ex-hero pulled back the mask from his face, revealing his unimpressed glower, “Put your damn knife away. It’s me.”

Fletcher scowled and snatched his hand back, returning his blade to its sheath as he hissed, “You’re sneaking around in the bushes wearing all black, idiot. Next time, give me a heads up.”

Splendid rolled his eyes, and threw something towards Fletcher for him to catch, “Put this on before we proceed.”

Fletcher inspected the black ski mask before pulling it over his head, concealing all but his eyes. When Splendid turned to press on, the bear looked back at his motorcycle, left alone in plain sight. An easy theft for a passer-by.

Fletcher hesitated, and called out with disbelief, “You expect me to leave my bike here like this?!”

Unfazed by the bear’s slight panic, Splendid retorted back, “Move it off the road and hide it in those shrubs where I was. I promise you it will be there when we’re done.”

Grumbling, Fletcher complied and stashed away his bike until it was out of sight, then rushed to catch up with Splendid.

“If my bike isn’t there when I get back, you can bet your bushy-tailed ass you’ll be buying me a new one.” He warned, leering at the blue male.

Splendid shrugged, “Commit to the work with me, and very soon you’ll have enough money to buy two of them.”

Fletcher became tense as they approached the ramshackle suburbs of Ravengate, loathing the idea of traveling on foot. The less populated areas of Ravengate suffered the most neglect, an unfortunate aftermath of the criminal turf wars.

Most of the scattered homes held no signs of life within. The cold silence and stillness of the suburbs could convince anyone passing through that it was an abandoned area.

With the vigilance and focus of an unyielding soldier, Fletcher followed Splendid as they approached the more populated grounds near the centre of town. Over in Harptree, the main streets would be empty by now, save for the night lovers who relished an opportunity to stargaze in peace.

But during the night, Ravengate's main streets became both a playground and a hunting ground for its nocturnal residents. The perfect time for organized gangs to reveal themselves after dark. For negotiations, or simply for confrontation. Rival groups will often challenge each other's territories at random, fueled by the hunger to spread the most influence.

Even while in prison, Fletcher heard rumours about one of Ravengate's most infamous cartels successfully breaching their rival’s territorial grounds. Almost all members of the opposing organization were eliminated. The few who did survive the brutal raid went into hiding, never to be heard from again.

When Fletcher grew more curious on the matter and asked Splendid which gang he works for, the squirrel denied him any details, reminding the bear about the risks that came with knowing too much information.

Bustling bars, casinos, and shady hotels. These were the few places occupying the night life that offered protection from danger. Densely populated areas of town is where the police force managed to maintain some order and control.

Despite the minimal dangers to hinder them in this area, the two males remained shrouded in dark alleys and shadows, avoiding as much attention as possible.

Splendid halted when he spotted a unit of armed police patrolling a busy main street, then hurried into a dark alleyway, signalling Fletcher to follow.

In a hushed voice, he informed Fletcher, “You do not want any of the armed cops here to see us, especially while we're masked. They’re on edge because of the turf wars, and they’ll do anything to capture potential gang members.”

Fletcher cocked a brow as he pried for more details, keeping his voice hushed too, “Are we talkin’ shoot on sight action here?”

Splendid shook his head, “Not with fatal intent. But that doesn’t mean they won’t shoot you in the leg to detain you. They need all captured members alive for interrogations. They’re scraping for intel on anything that could point them in the right direction for a mass takedown. The feds are borderline desperate enough to storm their territories. But they won’t. The police force here is dwindling, they’re outnumbered by multiple organizations.”

When Splendid halted on a quiet neighbourhood road, away from the lively main streets, his grey eyes swept across the area for signs of life. With all deemed clear for them to come out of the shadows, Fletcher followed behind the azure squirrel when he made a beeline for one of the homes.

They entered the house. Fletcher closed the door behind them and assessed the surroundings. Darkness shrouded the home. An unpleasant musty smell lingering in the air assaulted Fletcher’s senses. He could tell by the dishevelled arrangement of dirty furniture the homeowner isn’t one to maintain a clean living space.

Thinking more about the unfortunate victim, Fletcher reached to halt Splendid by his shoulder before he ascended the stairs, then spoke in a whisper, “This person I’m about to kill had better be gang-affiliated or something. I don’t wanna get thrown back in jail for murdering an innocent.”

Armed with a smirk, the blue male turned to face Fletcher with his masked pulled back, “Rest assured, I’m not getting my hands dirty with this work to kill innocents. These bastards that end up dead, they weren’t good people to begin with. The majority of them were criminals. Some of the things they'd done...” Splendid’s expression twisted with disgust, “...I don’t even wanna go into detail. If the law won’t let me bring justice by legal means, then I’m taking matters into my own hands... Even if my method is a little unorthodox.”

Splendid said no more to Fletcher, fixed his mask in place again, and continued up the stairs. When they both arrived outside the door at the end of the hall, Fletcher kept his hand inches away from the blade on his belt, waiting on Splendid to enter first.

Only a bedside lamp offered light when they stepped through. In the centre of the room, Fletcher saw their captive, tied to a wooden chair by their wrists and ankles. A towel obscured the unmoving person's face. Fletcher went to approach first, eager to begin, but Splendid stopped him with a silent gesture to wait.

Splendid moved closer and tugged the towel from the person in the chair, revealing an unconscious and gagged canine male. A trail of dried blood on the side of his head made it evident that blunt force was used to render him unconscious. The ex-hero untied the makeshift gag from around the dog’s mouth, then tried rousing him from unconsciousness with several taps to his face.

It took the addition of a little force behind his taps in the end, but then the grey-furred hound began to stir, “...Wha-... What the fuck is this...?”

When the canine’s eyes squinted to refocus on his surroundings, Splendid took a casual step back. He sensed the rising panic when the man’s eyes widened with fear after landing on two masked men in his home.

So Splendid raised both hands in a passive manner before speaking, “Screaming for help won’t do much for you, so save your breath. Let’s make this quick.”

Eager to proceed, Fletcher reached for his knife and took a step forward. But Splendid halted him once again.

Only steel-grey eyes were visible through the squirrel's mask, but the bear read his stern gaze as a firm instruction to stay put.

Fletcher's impatience threatened to boil over, but he folded his arms and took a step back, leaving Splendid to lead the situation.

The dog snarled at them both, tugging and thrashing against the tight ropes binding his wrists to the chair, “You motherfuckers! Untie me now!”

“Not yet. First you have to cooperate,” Splendid said. He then scanned around the room, “Now then, I've been told to fetch a safe from you. Tell me where it is.”

The canine stopped thrashing when Splendid finished speaking. He slowly looked up at the squirrel with a bitter chuckle, “...I know who sent you... Tell that seedy fucker he’s never getting his hands on that safe. You might as well kill me.”

Growing impatient, Splendid rolled his eyes and sighed through his mask. When the squirrel turned his back on the canine, he met Fletcher’s eager stare before giving a quiet instruction for the bear’s ears only, “Give me five minutes. I’m scoping his home for a clue as to where it might be. Shake him up a bit, but don’t kill him until I’m back.”

When the squirrel left the room, Fletcher turned towards the bound male. His gloved fingers wrapped around his Bowie knife as he stalked closer. The bear sensed a sudden shift in the dog’s demeanour when he towered over him.

Fletcher’s fingers tingled on the blade’s hilt. Feeling a bubbling giddiness like a child in a candy store, his yellow eyes danced over every artery on display that his blade could spill.

The grey-furred man couldn’t help but inch away from Fletcher while he prowled circles around him. Visibly brimming with anticipation, Fletcher's eyes glowed with a twisted excitement, and it made the canine’s gut churn.

If he had no mask to conceal it, Fletcher’s smirk would've looked menacing as he taunted the male, “You don’t seem so careless towards dying anymore, I can smell the fear trickling down your legs. What changed?”

The man’s frightened eyes darted down to the wet patch forming where he’d soiled himself, rousing a cruel laugh out of Fletcher.

Splendid stormed into the room again, empty-handed, and seeming to have lost the last of his patience, “Look, man, I’m only gonna give you one last chance to tell me before something bad happens to you, okay? Where is it?”

The canine still refused to speak, his bitter glare never faltering as he glanced between his captors. Fletcher stepped in to force the hound out of silence. He moved behind the chair to press his blade against the grey dog’s throat, trying to hasten the situation.

The male’s tone became frantic when the cold metal threatened to split his flesh, “Fuck! I’ll tell you where it is, okay?!” He inched away from the knife to continue, his voice quivering as he rambled, “I-In my kitchen below the sink, the cupboard has a false back panel, it's in there! I’ll give you the digits for the lock!”

Not expecting any sort of compliance from the man, Splendid’s eyes narrowed at him with suspicion. He then shot a pointed glance at Fletcher, “...I’ll be right back.” The squirrel then left them alone once again to investigate the concealed safe.

Fletcher forced himself to bring the blade away from the dog’s neck. He itched to draw blood, but scraped the last of his self-discipline to resist the temptation until Splendid gave him permission. The bear hoped their hostage isn't foolish enough to push his buttons in the meantime.

While Fletcher moved to put as much distance between them as possible, the canine’s eyes followed him warily as he muttered, “So... You another one of S’s lapdogs then, eh?”

Fletcher shot him a warning scowl from the other side of the room, pointing his blade towards the man, “Speak for yourself, mutt. I’m nobody’s lapdog.”

This made the dog scoff and roll his eyes, “So why are you helping his new little super-pet do his dirty work then?”

'Super-pet...?' Fletcher thought, '...This guy already knows it's Splendid...'

Realising this, the bear had a bad feeling in his gut.

Fletcher pushed himself from the wall he was leaning against, “Keep flapping your tongue at me and I’ll cut it out of your head.” He hissed, tightening his grip around the hilt of his knife.

Despite his vulnerable position, the hound ignored all threats. Even as the bear started to close the space between them, fingers twitching and flexing with violent urges.

The canine glared at Fletcher when he approached, and spat on his laced boots, “You think I’m afraid of you? Go ahead and give me a reason to be scared, asshole. Kill me, and you ain’t gettin’ the code to my safe.”

The man’s smug audacity was all it took for Fletcher’s self-control to shatter.

The bear moved swiftly, ramming a boot into the dog’s chest. The force knocked the air from his lungs, sending him crashing to the floor on his back. His thrashing against the tight ropes became erratic as he squirmed in a desperate attempt to escape.

Fletcher laughed hoarsely behind his mask, a pure sound of his twisted glee, ready to prove he isn't the kind of man to go against his word.

With his free hand, Fletcher seized the chair and dragged him into the centre of the room again.

The man's blood went cold when he saw light reflecting from Fletcher’s blade. Then gloved fingers pried open his mouth to pinch firmly onto his tongue.

With a nauseating rush of adrenaline, the hound used all the strength in his jaw and clamped his fangs on the bear’s invasive fingers. But it never stopped Fletcher from inching his blade closer to his tongue.

Fletcher didn’t hesitate, slicing his sharpened knife through the dog’s thrashing tongue with deadly precision.

The canine made an attempt to shriek in agony, but he only gargled and choked on the coppery liquid pooling in his throat. He tried spitting up to relieve his airways, but Fletcher kept a firm grip on his head.

Boredom soon took over after watching the man suffer for several minutes, drowning in his own blood. Fletcher knew there was no going back.

To finish the job, he forced the canine's head back, then sliced deeply across his neck. Moments later, he lay lifeless in a puddle of his blood.

After wiping his knife on a cleaner patch of the man’s clothing, Fletcher stood and took a step back to let the carnage engrain itself into his memory. But as he took a deep inhale with his nose to savour the coppery tang in the air, Splendid’s voice murmured from the doorway.

“Strong stuff, huh?”

Fletcher spun on his heels to face the squirrel, stunned by his sudden appearance. The rush of blood roaring in his ears had made it difficult to hear Splendid’s approaching steps.

Venom-yellow eyes darted to the heavy-duty safe in Splendid’s hands, then to his unmasked expression of disappointment.

Fletcher tried to form a reason for losing his patience with the hostage, but Splendid spoke first as he stepped into the room, “I would’ve liked to hear the code before you murdered him. You’re lucky I can break this open.”

“Whatever. It’s done. You found his stash, let’s get out of–”

“We’re not finished here yet,” Splendid cut him short, and pointed to the man’s blood-soaked corpse, “Not until we’ve disposed of him.”

“Fine,” Fletcher grunted with annoyance, “What do you want me to do?”

“Strip him bare and dismember him as much as you can. I’ll handle the rest.” After giving Fletcher his instructions, Splendid turned to leave him with the gruesome task.

With his Bowie knife still in hand, the bear went to work straight away. First, he cut the ropes binding the man to the chair. Then he cut away the soiled and blood-soaked clothing and left it in a pile.

He started by severing the head, followed by the limbs. With the more strenuous parts done, Fletcher reached for the canine’s severed arms and lay them together. When he positioned his blade above the wrists, his eyes landed on something that rocked his train of thought.

While thrashing against the tight ropes before his death, the man had inflicted severe rope burns on his wrists. But what stole his attention more than anything were the bruises.

Fletcher stared at those familiar injuries until the fog cleared from his memory. Then he realised where he’d seen them before – the crimson porcupine from the mall.

The girl’s unexpected attack replayed in his head, evoking a phantom feeling of her claws sinking deep into his flesh. An abrupt tingling sensation fluttered over the healing wounds. But Fletcher scowled, shaking off the odd shivers that feathered down his spine.

The discovery of similarities in their injuries still piqued the bear’s interest. But he stored his curiosity away to focus on his morbid task. Fletcher had a feeling he'd see that girl again. Eventually.

~ ~ ~

With only an hour left before closing time, the diner stopped serving food. Only drinks were available during the last hour, so the seating areas around the bar held the few remaining customers left.

While Flaky took a seat amongst the empty booths to wait, Flippy snatched DB’s attention at the bar. He ordered their drinks, occasionally stealing a glance over at the porcupine, noticing how she only seemed to stare down at the table.

When Flippy returned, he handed her the glass of lemonade she'd requested. Flaky couldn't bring herself to drink anything with alcohol, preferring to stay sharp, but she never openly admitted that. Flippy opted for the same drink, choosing to stay level-headed in her company.

Flaky assessed the diner to find Lammy. Then she spotted the sheep carrying a tray of dishes towards the kitchen. She assumed Lammy is helping in the back to clean for the night, so Flaky relaxed a little more. She finally had the chance of an undisturbed conversation with Flippy – without her friend eavesdropping.

To break their silence, Flaky spoke first, but her words came out quiet, “I’ve been meaning to thank you again... for helping me the other night.”

Flippy took his first sip, inwardly smiling at her bashfulness. When he set down his glass, he gave an earnest nod, “I’m glad you’re safe. I wouldn’t like to imagine what might’ve happened if the wrong person found you on the road.”

Worry lined Flippy's features as he spoke. Behind his steadfast gaze held a subtle intensity. Flaky could see the curiosity swirling behind his eyes.

In an attempt to steer their conversation to another topic, Flaky let her gaze fall on the silver dog tags around the bear’s neck.

“...Are you in the military?” She timidly asked, folding her arms on the table.

“I was... I resigned five years ago,” Flippy started, his fingers gently grasping the silver tags. Though he didn’t enjoy talking about his years of service, he didn't want to shut down Flaky’s curiosity.

So after a beat of silence, he continued, “My brother and I enrolled at seventeen. It was something we always wanted to do since we were young.”

As she traced her finger on the rim of her glass in thought, Flaky gave him a brief once-over, without him noticing. Now she understood why both bears had well built physiques.

“I can only imagine what it was like...” Flaky quietly said, awe glittering in her fern green eyes, “You must be very brave... and strong.”

Though her words made a soft grin tug at his lips, Flippy masked his bashfulness behind an amused chuckle, “I suppose it would be easy to assume I’m both those things after military experience.”

A half answer. Flippy refused to admit that truly, bravery and strength isn't something he felt guarded with. But he wouldn't dare to burden Flaky with his problems – he knew the porcupine carried her own.

A calm silence settled between them as they enjoyed their lemonades. Flippy sipped from his glass. Flaky took small sips through a straw, and his eyes danced over her features before landing on the faint bruise around her eye.

Since being in her company, he’d stolen occasional glances towards her hands. Flippy hasn't once seen her fingers release the hems of her sleeves. Others may think she simply felt cold. But Flippy knew she kept the bruises around her wrists out of sight.

Flaky peered amongst the diner in search for Lammy. When she saw no sign of her lilac friend skating around the dining area, she turned to give Flippy her full attention. Flippy’s smile slowly faded when hers vanished entirely.

Flaky’s brows knitted together as she hesitantly parted her lips to speak, her voice becoming more hushed, “Flippy... Can I trust you?”

An understandable question, one he felt no surprise to hear. With an unfeigned expression, Flippy gave a firm nod, “You can always trust me.”

Flaky felt the honesty in his words. Cautiously, she leaned in closer to whisper, “...I need you to promise me you won’t involve the police.”

With sincerity glittering in his blue eyes, Flippy leaned forward slightly to whisper back, “I promise.”

Flaky swallowed, feeling her throat dry up when she spoke, “The reason you found me on the road that night. It's because I'd ran away from my ex...”

A bitter scowl stole the sadness in her expression when she admitted further, “He was an abusive...” then she trailed off, withholding the hateful curse before it slipped from her tongue in front of Flippy's presence, “...Monster.”

The anguish in her voice left a knot in Flippy's chest. He wanted to say something, but Flaky abruptly continued, “We were in his car. He stopped at a gas station to fill up. When he left to pay, I...” she dared to glance down at her wrists, almost reliving the frantic moment of terror when she did everything to remove the ropes tightly binding her wrists, “...I left his car, and ran away...”

Flippy noted how she'd often avert her eyes during her quiet explanation. He couldn't help but feel as though Flaky withheld an uncomfortable truth behind her explanation. But he masked his itching suspicion to show his concern.

“Do you think he’s looking for you?”

Flaky bit her lip at his question. The texts she'd discovered before destroying her phone gave the undeniable proof that he’s definitely looking for her.

“No...” She quietly lied, “I think he would’ve taken the hint that I’m never coming back.”

“Well I hope that he did, you don't deserve to be treated that way,” he frowned, but then he smiled warmly when he continued, “You're very brave for stepping away from that situation.”

The seriousness in Flippy’s tone as he spoke, and his soft kind smile, bloomed an unusual ache in Flaky’s chest. She averted her eyes when her lip began to tremble again, so starved of simple, caring words. Hearing them from a stranger, who has expressed nothing but genuine concern for her well-being since they'd met, felt so overwhelming.

Flaky’s efforts to ignore what she truly felt inside crumbled. She tried to swallow the forming lump in her throat, but her emotions still poured.

Flippy acted swiftly when he saw tears trailing down her cheeks, offering a clean napkin from the table. He tried to ignore the stab in his chest at the sound of her quiet sobs.

Flaky couldn’t bring herself to look at bear’s disheartened features when she accepted the napkin from him. With her blurred vision fixed on the table to hide her anguish, she blotted away the dampness on her face.

After drying the last of her tears, Flaky released a trembling breath, “I’m sorry... I’ve done nothing but cry in your company...”

“That doesn’t bother me, Flaky,” Flippy started, gently shaking his head, “It’s clear to see that you’ve been suffering. Please don’t feel the need to apologise.”

Flaky only managed a weak smile at the bear, “...You're right.”

A more comfortable silence settled between them. Their eyes met again, locking long enough to stir up embarrassment in Flaky, realizing how puffy and tired her eyes must look. So she looked away, brushing a lock of quills over her shoulder, and tried smothering the warmth that threatened to spill across her face.

Upon her brief glance around the diner, Flaky saw no other customers in sight. She had nothing in her possession to check the time, so she glanced at the leather strap watch peeking out from under Flippy’s sleeve.

Flippy saw her swift glance at his watch and checked for her, “It’s almost ten. Are you waiting for your friend to finish working?”

“Yeah...” Flaky toyed with the tear-soaked napkin in her hands, “...I’m staying at her apartment for now. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Watching her fingers pinch and pull the napkin, Flippy could tell she felt some discomfort in admitting her living situation. Knowing Flaky’s friend is the only person she’s able to turn to in her time of need, he became curious about her family.

“You said you grew up in this town. Do you have any relatives here?”

Flaky’s lips formed a tight line, and she scrunched up the napkin in her fist to cease her anxious fidgeting, “...Lammy is all I have now.”

Flippy recognised the grief in her expression. The same kind of grief that still lingered inside him, years after his parent’s passing. But he tried not to assume Flaky shared a similar experience – her family history remained under a dark veil, along with truths he felt certain she's carefully masked behind vague explanations thus far.

As if subconsciously summoned by her name leaving Flaky’s lips, the lilac sheep skated her way out of the kitchen from the back of the diner. Her pristine curls were dull and out of place, and disgust twisted her expression. Flaky assumed Lammy was about to approach their table, until she went straight to where DB was busy cleaning at the bar.

Flippy realised the diner is soon to close. Knowing his time with Flaky is about to be cut short, a small jab of disappointment leeched the warmth that had blossomed in his chest in her company.

But having failed to decipher what she hid behind her half-truths, Flippy knew he'd depart with his curiosity burning stronger than before.

Their initial strange encounter had left him riddled with an inexpressible feeling of intrigue, fueled by an attraction he tried suppressing, to focus on uncovering the root cause of her paranoia.

Flippy searched Flaky’s earthy eyes, seeking anything to help him understand why she'd insist on being safe, when her highly strung and tense demeanour told him otherwise.

The porcupine spotted the small glimmer of sadness in his eyes when a cold silence settled between them. An ache loomed in her gut, knowing she'd soon be without Flippy’s comforting presence.

She thought on how to phrase her curiosity about meeting one another again, but doubt numbed her ability to speak. The question melted on her tongue. She toyed with the hems of her sleeves, flitting her gaze at the bear from under her lashes.

But then she learned that her desire to see him again was mutual when he asked softly, “Would you like to stay in contact with me?”

Flaky almost leapt at his question, but when she parted her lips to speak, realization struck. She didn't have a phone anymore. Heat crept over her face as she grabbed the last clean napkin on the table.

When Flaky handed him the napkin, she awkwardly looked away as she confessed, “I got rid of my old phone... It held a lot of bad memories and such. Could you... give me your number until I get a new one?”

Flippy caught on to her purpose for the napkin, but realised he had nothing to write with. His eyes darted towards Dee at the bar, then he flashed a reassuring smile before standing from the table, “Let me see if my friend has a pen I can borrow, I’ll be right back.”

Flaky nodded and smiled back as he turned for the bar. The butterflies she’d been trying ignore in her stomach seemed to flutter more frantically than ever as she watched the tall bear’s retreating form. If Flaky had predicted how the night was going to end, she never would have guessed she’d be leaving the diner with Flippy’s number.

The porcupine knew to be wary of people she’d only just met. But something about Flippy’s gentleness alleviated her worries, making her fears seem weightless.

For the duration of time that Flippy conversed at the bar, Flaky’s eyes fixed on the short, low-tied ponytail of his mossy hair, eventually drifting down to linger on his stature and physique. She became too entranced in the end, because Flaky didn’t notice Lammy approaching her table.

Until the sheep halted before her, cutting Flippy out of her sight. Flaky met Lammy’s slight look of disapproval, and realised she'd intended on obstructing him from her view.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Flaky,” Lammy started, forcing a grin as she gestured for the porcupine to leave with her, “I’m finally done for the night, we can get out of here.”

Flaky stood from her seat when she saw Flippy approaching them. Lammy regarded the bear with a subtle contemptuous frown.

Despite her visible look of distaste at him, Flippy offered Lammy a friendly smile as he spoke to them both, “Are you girls getting home safe?”

“That’s none of your concern, but yes, we are.” Lammy snapped.

Flaky quietly hissed the sheep’s name under her breath, narrowing her eyes at her as a small plea to drop the defensive attitude towards him.

But Flippy was unbothered by the sheep’s wariness, “I’m glad to hear that.” Flippy said, nodding once.

Lammy linked her arm around Flaky’s to try and lead her towards the main entrance, but Flaky gently pulled her arm away.

“Can you go ahead? I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”

Lammy sighed, “...Sure.” Then before she begrudgingly departed to leave them alone, she threw a warning glare at Flippy as she mumbled, “I hope it is a minute.”

When Lammy skated away, Flaky exhaled as though she’d subconsciously held her breath in the sheep's presence. Then she slipped an apologetic look up at Flippy.

The bear let out a soft chuckle as he revealed a small, folded piece of paper between his fingers. “You don’t have to keep her waiting.”

With a timid smile, Flaky gently took it from his grasp and tucked it into her cardigan pocket, “Thank you.” Then as she turned away to leave, Flaky looked back to wave shyly, “I’ll be sure to call you as soon as I can.”

Flippy called out a final goodbye, watching her retreating form with a lingering feeling of hope from her words. Then he stood idly for a moment, processing the warmth that lingered in his veins, even after Flaky had disappeared from his sight.

Then, having watched as Flippy stood frozen in a stupor, eyes glued to the entrance, Dee's amused voice rang out from the bar, “Need another drink to calm those nerves, soldier?”

Flippy chuckled awkwardly, brushing off his friend’s comment as he walked to the bar, “...I’ll take another whiskey for the road.”

By the time Flippy claimed the nearest stool, Dee already prepared his drink and placed in before him. Flippy retrieved his wallet to pay, only to be halted by the suave man.

“On the house, brother.” Dee said, then he smirked at Flippy, “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting with that porcupine for most of the night... Is she the lady you wrote down your number for?”

“It’s not for the reason you might be thinking, Dee.” Flippy firmly stated, straightening his expression.

Dee’s brows furrowed in thought, “I noticed that awful bruise on her face... Did she tell you about it?”

Flippy shook his head, deciding to respect Flaky’s personal life, instead of airing out her business to another, “No. But It's not my place to pressure her for a backstory. From what she told me, I can tell she’s in need of a trustworthy friend.”

“Well, that girl certainly picked the right guy!” Dee proclaimed with a wink.

When the voluminous haired man returned to his cleaning duties before closing, Flippy raised the whiskey glass to his lips and knocked back the last of his drink, warming himself for the walk home. He would've liked to stay longer in the company of his disco-loving friend, but exhaustion slowly crept up on him.

Flippy took his phone from his pocket to check the time. An unread message from Splendid stole his attention. 

On his way out of the empty diner, he turned to call out to Dee before leaving, “I gotta hit the road now. Thanks for the drinks, DB.”

“Anytime, soldier,” Dee chimed with a salute, “And hey, don’t be a stranger anymore, swing by more often!”

Flippy returned his salute with a smile, “I will.”

The air's temperature had dropped, the heat of the day dissipating underneath a clear, moonless sky. Flippy passed by the spot where he’d smoked with Flaky earlier. The brief memory of her rekindled the hope he felt while wondering how soon he'd receive Flaky's first text.

Thinking on the matter of texts, Flippy retrieved his phone again to see the chain of messages he received from Splendid.

‘Bad news I’m afraid.’

‘Fletcher got into the house.’

‘Oh and she’s not dead btw, but it was a close one.’

Grumbling with annoyance, Flippy dragged a hand down his face, cursing his terrible luck for this of all things to happen. He chose to ignore Splendid's messages and put away his phone, forcing himself to face the dreadful outcome this situation will inevitably bring.

‘How did he get inside...?’  Flippy thought, his hands working on their own accord to rush and check his jacket.

Only in that moment did he realise his pockets held no keys. After a careless mixup upon first leaving Splendid's, Fletcher must have taken Flippy's leather jacket, instead of his own.

‘...Great.’

Flippy inwardly cursed at himself for making a severe mistake, knowing it could've been easily avoided. The note he'd left for Giggles proved to be a useless attempt at warning her – he figured it either went unnoticed or stubbornly ignored by the chipmunk. Flippy wished he'd took action sooner to remove Giggles from his home.

He had no choice but to accept that facing his rampant twin again will be a reunion from hell. Regardless, Flippy straightened his spine and stifled his internal panic to press on and make his way back to Splendid’s.

Despite the persistent cloud of anxiety looming over Flippy during his silent walk, a sudden realisation chipped away at his dull mood. Flaky had unintentionally taken over his train of thought for the whole night – to such a degree that Giggles had slipped entirely from his mind.

~ ~ ~

Since leaving the diner, a palpable silence settled between the two girls. Flaky sensed Lammy's exhaustion from those few hours of late work. But she could tell something else poked through the surface in her demeanour. Still, Flaky remained silent, allowing her friend to keep her focus on the road.

Flaky recalled the moment she'd left Flippy's company, feeling tainted by a wistful longing. Her hand remained securely rested over the cardigan pocket containing the folded slip of paper with Flippy’s number. More importantly, she didn't want Lammy to notice it.

The sheep hurried back to her apartment, determined to rest well before her last shift of the week. But before Lammy could think about sleep, she couldn't ignore her insistent urge to express her unsettled thoughts – the ones regarding the twin bears.

Lammy slowed down outside the security gates to the apartment complex, and they automatically opened for them to pass through. She parked in her usual space, but didn’t move to exit her car straight away.

Instead, she turned to Flaky with a tight-lipped smile, “So, that bear you were with tonight,” Lammy paused, trying to form her next words as politely as possible, “He seems very... respectful and kind. But...”

When Lammy hesitated to finish her statement, Flaky gave a silent nod, encouraging her to continue.

The sheep’s slight smile vanished completely when she stated, “I think you should avoid him...” Her brows knitted together as she fought to repress the harsh edge in her tone, “I mean, have you forgotten about his psychotic twin brother that basically wanted to kill us in the middle of a busy mall?!”

Flaky has struggled to forget Flippy’s unsettling scarred twin since their unpleasant encounter. Those predatory chartreuse eyes pierced her so deeply when they'd stared into hers, she couldn’t tell if she'd felt awe from fear or astonishment.

Flaky unbuckled her seatbelt, avoiding Lammy’s pressing stare, “How could I forget when I literally sank my claws into him?” Then she exited the car, wrapping her arms around herself when the cool air seeped through the fabric of her cardigan, “What makes you think I’m not mortified?”

Lammy followed after, stepping out of her car to lock it, “Then surely you'd agree to reconsider if you have any intention of seeing Flippy again.”

The sheep’s voice held an assertive edge, but Flaky felt the weight of concern in Lammy's words. Her caution over the situation with the twin bears is to be expected.

Flaky couldn't ignore that an encounter with Flippy’s unnerving brother would be unavoidable if they stepped into each other’s lives. This new dilemma left her torn.

They waited on the slow decent of an empty elevator in the apartment block. When they finally entered through its  parting doors, Lammy felt the unusual tension in the air between them. During their short journey up, she stole a sidelong glance at Flaky, noticing her taut expression while staring into space.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Flaky.” Lammy uttered, “I just don’t want anything else to happen to you...”

Flaky heard the note of sadness in Lammy’s tone. So she tried to reassure her with a smile, and rested a hand on Lammy’s shoulder as she spoke, “After all I’ve been through, I’m never going to allow myself to fall into danger so easily again. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Despite only admitting a fraction of what she’d endured in recent years, Flaky still managed to display a convincing show of confidence, unaware if Lammy believed it. Deep down, Flaky felt nothing but dread for her unforeseeable future.

~ ~ ~

Flippy knew what awaited him when he arrived at Splendid’s. Now that his regretful secret has come to light, the bear tried to stay calm, thinking more on the positive outcome of this situation – he finally had an opportunity to go back to his motel. If Fletcher didn't kill him first, that is.

He didn’t try to make a quiet entrance when he stepped through the door, braced and ready to face his brother.

In the living room, Splendid sat slumped in his loveseat, watching late night shows. When Flippy edged further into the room, he saw the grave expression on the squirrel’s face when he looked his way.

“I tried to calm him down over the situation,” Splendid started, switching off his television with the remote before continuing, “I can tell he’s not finished venting though.”

Flippy folded his arms, trying to suppress panic from etching over his features, “Well, where is he?”

“He’s smoking in the back.” Splendid said. Then he stood from his seat to join Flippy, keeping his voice low as he informed the bear, “I made him a joint to chill him out, but I doubt it’s gonna make a difference...”

Flippy let out an exhausted sigh, “Let’s just get this over with.”

In the backyard, sat lazily on one of Splendid’s garden chairs, Fletcher kept his bored gaze fixed on the open sky. With no clouds masking the velvet night, the scarred bear blew wispy trails of smoke towards the glittering stars, temporarily blocking them from his view with each slow exhale.

With a solemn and careful tone in his voice, Flippy called out from the doorway, “Fletcher...”

Fletcher grit his teeth when he heard his brother’s voice, as if the very sound of it ignited something vicious inside of him. The rugged bear didn’t move from his seat, nor did he bother turning to face his twin.

Instead, he murmured a cold warning, “I suggest you stay where you are. I don’t even wanna look at you.”

Flippy rubbed his brows, annoyance beginning to fester under his skin, “She’s not going to be in that house anymore, okay? Can we just move past this peacefully?”

“Move past this?” Fletcher echoed him with disbelief, pelting what's left of his joint across the garden, “I don’t fucking think so. Unlike you, I don't like brushing shit under the rug.”

Splendid sensed an alarming shift in Fletcher’s demeanour and moved closer to the twins. When Fletcher forgot all sense to stay away from Flippy and leapt from his seat, the ex-hero noticed the way his venomous eyes locked onto his brother with ill intent. Splendid knew to prepare for an intervention if their dispute took a dark turn.

Flippy stood his ground when Fletcher prowled closer to him, but a nervous hitch in his voice gave away his fear, “Let me explain–”

“I don’t need a fucking explanation! You’re a useless pushover,” Fletcher bellowed, “you’ve never had the balls to kick that bitch to the curb after everything she did to you!”

Flippy ignored the insult hurled at him, and kept his tone calm as he tried reasoning with his irate twin, “Giggles told me she didn’t have anywhere else to go–”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Fletcher thundered. “Not only did you give that whore free reign of our home, you also let her use it to screw her little boy toy.” His glare twisted with disgust when he scoffed, “I bet mom and dad are turning in their fucking graves right now.”

Flippy went to retort, but his words dissolved when surprise painted his features. Giggles inviting company over to the house with indecent intentions came as news to him. But his sudden loss for words told the scarred twin more than enough.

Fletcher raked both hands through his hair, turning on his heels to put space between them. Then his sudden cold cackle punctured the uncomfortable silence, “So, you had no idea, huh? To think I almost wasted ten years of my fucking life for you... a pathetic waste of a man.”

“Fletcher, that’s enough.” Splendid snapped, scowling with disappointment at the harsh words coming from his friend.

He knew the berserk bear’s relentless aggression wouldn’t cease until Flippy broke and fought back. But Splendid refused to let that happen. Unfortunately for the squirrel, however, Fletcher’s death glare narrowed onto him in an instant when he tried to cease their argument.

“Shut the fuck up!”  Fletcher growled at Splendid, “You think I’m gonna listen to a word from your mouth when you’ve been hiding this bullshit from me as well?!”

Splendid knew he'd only fail to de-escalate the situation, and he didn't feel like acting as Fletcher's punching bag until he calmed down again. To avoid adding more fuel to the bear's fire, the ex-hero said no more and folded his arms. Flippy mirrored Splendid's silence, avoiding his brother’s menacing stare.

Fletcher didn’t take their silence lightly. He turned his back on them and stormed towards the garden chairs.

“...Got nothin’ else to say for yourselves? Fine,” Fletcher grumbled. Then his grip tightened on the chair in front of him.

In the blink of an eye, he twisted with vigor to barrel it in their direction, roaring with fury, “You can both go to hell!”

Splendid’s steady anticipation of a violent outburst from Fletcher made it easy for him to block the incoming chair before it could reach them.

With a swift side-step, the azure male stepped in front of Flippy, absorbing the impact. The force would've been a brutal one if it weren’t for the super squirrel’s armoured flesh. The metal framing of the chair bent on impact, then tumbled into the grass.

Fletcher stormed past the two silent males to take his leave, then caught a glimpse of dejection in Flippy’s features before he masked it behind a frown. Yet the scarred twin couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but pity and hatred for his brother.

Before Fletcher could leave to dispel the violent rage bubbling under his skin somewhere else, Fletcher had to do one final thing. So before storming out the front door for his motorcycle, the venom-eyed bear yanked off his brother's leather jacket from his body, retrieved the set of keys that he'd found, and shuffled through them to find all keys to their home.

Once they were removed from the keychain and safe in his possession, Fletcher went to discard Flippy’s keys and jacket onto the ground. Instead, he found the will to fend off his wretched spite, and forced himself to drape Flippy’s leather on the coat rack, and placed his brother’s remaining keys by the door.

By the time Fletcher started up his cruiser, he’d already decided on the perfect solution for satiating his burning rage. So he didn't hesitate and sped off, the roar of the bike's engine cutting through the silent night.

~ ~ ~

After Fletcher’s abrupt departure, the two men were left standing idly in the yard, both at a loss for words. Splendid looked down at his damaged chair, envisioning what could've happened if Flippy had been on the receiving end of the attack.

The unpleasant air that hung between them turned into something bitter when Splendid fixed his scrutinizing stare on Flippy.

“I thought you’d at least have the sense to warn Giggles about Fletcher. This wouldn’t have happened.” Splendid scorned.

Exhausted and in need of time alone, Flippy made his way inside from the backyard, sighing irritably, “...I tried.”

Splendid followed after the bear and found him retrieving his leather jacket and keys by the front door.

Seeing Flippy move with haste to leave, Splendid spoke firmly, “I’d think twice before going after Fletcher while he’s still mad–”

“I don’t have the patience for my brother tonight,” Flippy interjected, shaking his head with annoyance, “I’m going back to the motel.”

Flippy’s dismissive attitude put a thorn in Splendid’s side. He leaned against the front doorframe, silvery grey eyes narrowing with contempt at the retreating bear, already stepping into his pickup truck.

The azure squirrel folded his arms and spoke loud enough for Flippy to hear him, “Running away from your problems isn’t going to work, Flippy. You need to take control of your life.”

Even though Flippy heard Splendid’s words loud and clear from inside his truck, he chose to stay silent, sparing him nothing but a tense frown as he drove away.

Flippy refused to consider advice from a man who fell from grace. It had taken all of the bear’s sympathy to withhold a harsh reminder to Splendid about his own unfortunate reality – a heavily tarnished reputation as a hero meant that his life will forever be out of his control, especially under the watchful eyes of the law.

Fletcher left no hint about where he’d stormed off to after hurling a chair towards him, but Flippy guessed his first place would be their home. He realized Fletcher left him no key to their house when he quickly examined his keychain.

Something unpleasant trickling down his spine told him the home’s interior will be a victim of his twin’s rampage.

With everything that happened thus far, Flippy could care less if his brother burned their home to ashes. The quiet motel off the main road through the forest had enticed the bear with its promise of solitude long enough.

On his travels back to the secluded motel, he dwelled on the events of the day. Flippy soon managed to feel content with the way things had turned out. He assumed Giggles endured an unfortunate fright when Fletcher arrived unannounced. But Flippy couldn’t bring himself to feel sympathy whatsoever.

An elated feeling of relief washed over him. Giggles is finally out of his life for good.

~ ~ ~

Alone in his backyard, Splendid tried to reshape his damaged garden chair, then kicked it across the grass in frustration when he failed to make the legs even again.

Even though he’d expected a heated exchange between the twins, Splendid couldn’t shake his irritation from the outcome.

Getting caught in the crossfire during the their arguments isn't an uncommon experience for Splendid. Standing by both the twins became impossible when they went against each other, because he never took one bear’s side over the other.

But with them out of his hair for while, Splendid sauntered back into his house – he had a pre-rolled blunt in his weed stash, one strong enough to debilitate even the most seasoned of smokers. He wanted to end the night passed out on his sofa, as always.

But as he got comfortable in his loveseat, with the blunt and ashtray in hand, he felt his burner phone vibrating in his pocket.

Splendid groaned and retrieved the small black device, wishing his devious employer would bother him tomorrow. Still, he answered the call, then heard a prompt demand in the man’s stern voice.

“Bring me that safe tonight, not tomorrow. It’s urgent.”

Splendid eyed the locked safe on his coffee table, salvaged hours prior from the dead canine’s home.

Then he responded, “On my way.”

Chapter Text

For his visit to exchange the stolen safe, Splendid travelled by car instead of his bicycle. The weight of the solid metal box wouldn’t have hindered the super squirrel, but he couldn’t say the same about the tyres on his bike.

With nothing but the quiet hum of the car’s engine occupying his thoughts, Splendid stole a curious glance at the safe from the rear view mirror.

In the months Splendid secretly worked for an infamous gang leader, he’s never retrieved one of his target’s valuables within a safe before. While he could assume it contained nothing other than money, or drugs, he couldn’t shake his curiosity.

Fortunately, Splendid saw a potential opportunity to inspect the contents at the end of the journey. Unless his employer owned the tools to break into a heavy duty pin-locked safe, Splendid anticipated hearing a request for his assistance.

He parked on a quiet main street outside a small 24-hour liquor store. In the hazy blue darkness of the early hours, the florescent lights along the store’s ceiling revealed no one besides a worker at the cash register.

After sweeping his vision across the street and seeing no other soul in sight, Splendid relaxed his shoulders. Then he casually left his car, moved to the backseats, and retrieved the safe before making his way towards the liquor store.

The automatic doors parted and Splendid entered. The man at the counter raised his sleepy gaze, then a half grin stole the bored expression from his whiskered face when he saw Splendid approaching him.

“Ahoy, ye back to bring more booty?” The male otter drawled, his heavy accent tilted by a slight slur.

Splendid suppressed his amusement at the man’s choice in phrasing, and nodded with a half-smile, “I sure am, Russell. Still drinking on the job, I see.”

In response, Russell reached for the strong beverage on the counter, hooking the bottle with his steel prosthetic and sliding it towards himself, “Aye, perks of havin’ me own booze store, I s’pose.”

Splendid waited for the sea otter to finish messily chugging before asking, “Where is he?”

Russell hiccupped, then wiped his mouth, “He’s waitin’ for ye in the basement. Just a heads up, lad, the man’s snappier than a crab on a cold Monday mornin’.”

Splendid knew that already, but still gave a thoughtful nod, “Thanks for letting me know.” Then he stepped through the swinging door of the checkout.

As he descended the stairs to store’s secure basement, Splendid took a silent deep breath, smoothing out his demeanour to keep all emotion at bay.

Maintaining neutrality towards the man who is both his employer and drug supplier is vital for keeping a low profile. So far, Splendid had built enough friendly rapport to stay in the mobster’s good books. The ex-hero expertly masks his contempt for criminals in their presence, securing the trust he’s gained thus far – one mistake and Splendid knew his shady employer won’t hesitate to blow the whistle on his involvement to the government.

Splendid raised his knuckles to the door and rhythmically knocked against the wood five times. After a beat of silence, the metal peephole slid open from the inside. Stern brown eyes inspected the azure male for a split second, then he heard a series of clicks and clinks from behind the door, the sound of many locks and latches.

Then the door swung open, and a dark green raccoon in a perfectly-tailored suit stepped aside.

When Splendid entered with the safe, the man quickly slammed the door shut, securing each lock with rapid precision.

“Put that on my desk.” The raccoon firmly instructed, his hardened expression partially masked under the shadow of his fedora.

Splendid waited until the raccoon returned to his seat behind the desk before carefully placing the metal safe down. Then he retrieved his phone from his pocket, opening up his recent photos to display the evidence of the canine’s death.

The ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of the raccoon’s lips when he examined the gruesomely dismembered man, “Excellent work. Not a clean death like I’ve seen you do before, but that mutt deserved a painful one.”

Splendid pocketed his phone again, then flashed a neutral grin, “Always happy to be of service, Shifty.”

The pine-furred male gave an appreciative nod, but his expression remained placid and somewhat strained. Then Shifty’s eyes darted to the safe, right before he leaned forward to push it to one side of his desk.

Splendid’s vision followed the metal box as he spoke, “Unfortunately, he didn’t cooperate when I asked for the code. But I can assist in opening-”

“No need.” Shifty interrupted, raising a dismissive hand.

Splendid said no more when Shifty stood from his seat. The raccoon smoothed out the creases of his pin stripe suit and moved to a large cabinet at the back of the small room. Shifty grabbed a short glass from the shelves for himself, then offered another to Splendid.

“Cognac?” The raccoon blandly asked, pouring a small amount of the said beverage for himself.

“Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though.” Splendid politely declined.

Shifty swirled the golden liquid once, knocked it back, then placed the empty glass by the bottle. His attention snapped to the safe, then fixed on Splendid again.

The blue male sensed the undisclosed anger simmering beneath Shifty’s surface, despite his attempt to appear calm. Normally, their visits weren’t this swallowed up by tension, leading Splendid to wonder what has wrecked the raccoon’s typical confidence.

When Splendid’s eyes wandered to the safe again, Shifty cleared his throat and lifted a duffel bag from underneath the desk. Then he unzipped it to reveal several sealed packages, and neatly rolled bundles of money secured with elastic bands.

“So, what’ll it be for your payment this time?” Shifty asked.

Splendid stroked his chin as he inspected the packs, half tempted to stock up on his weed stash. But, remembering his agreement to split a cash payment with Fletcher, Splendid pointed to the money instead.

“I’ll take cash. Still got plenty to smoke for now.”

Shifty grabbed four rolls of money and placed them on the desk, “Pleasure doing business.”

Splendid took them, “Likewise.” Then he turned to depart, but stopped to curiously examine the troubled raccoon.

Shifty took a seat at his desk with a tight sigh, removing his fedora to agitatedly rake his fingers through his sleek black hair. When he placed his hat on again and raised his eyes to find Splendid still there, his brow twitched.

“...What is it?” Shifty mumbled.

Splendid carefully lined his tone with concern instead of curiosity as he replied, “I’ve never seen you so stressed out before. Is, uh, business going well?”

Shifty’s eyes narrowed, “It’s nothing to do with business,” then he hesitated before quietly muttering, “...It’s a personal matter.”

“I see... Anything I can help with at all?” Splendid offered.

“That depends...” Shifty started, his fingers drumming on the wooden desk, “...My lady is missing. But, as I said...” he leaned back in his chair with arms folded, flashing Splendid a warning scowl from under the rim of his hat, “This is a personal matter that doesn’t need your concern, or aid. Don’t poke your nose where it shouldn’t be, then I won’t feel so inclined to cut our ties.”

Splendid heard the defensive undertone in the raccoon’s words. Even though his instincts tingled with an urge to help – spurred by the thought of a woman potentially in danger – Splendid stifled his growing concern to remain on good terms with his employer.

Unfazed by Shifty’s warning, Splendid offered a sincere smile and nodded once, “Understood. I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Before you go,” Shifty called out to the squirrel’s retreating form, standing to approach him.

Splendid halted, just as he reached the door, and turned to face Shifty. The raccoon seemed to force a tight-lipped smile and planted a firm hand on Splendid’s shoulder.

“...Apologies for my behaviour,” Shifty hesitantly started, “I do appreciate all that you’ve done for my organization so far.”

“It’s no big deal,” Splendid said, watching as Shifty unlocked the basement door. Then he spoke with a low and serious tone on his way out, “I hope you find your lady, safe and sound.”

Shifty paused, as if pondering over his next words.

His cold brown eyes veered off to the side, avoiding Splendid’s as he uttered under his breath, “Oh, don’t worry about it,” an impish smile curled his lips, “I’ll find her.”

~ ~ ~

“...Pick up the gun, Flaky.”

Beads of sweat rolled down Flaky’s face. Her trembling hand flinched against cold metal when she grasped the pistol on the table.

With bloodshot eyes lined with tears, she turned away from the heartless man by her side, knowing any further attempts to resist his demands would exacerbate his temper, and send him into an unpredictable frenzy.

But then she forced her eyes to meet the pleading ones of the severely beaten man at her feet, broken and bleeding into the plush carpet. The face she once recognized as a friend, now disfigured by gashes and dark swelling.

Her soul shattered.

“Shoot him.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, refusal begging to slip from her mouth again. But the man beside her harshly invaded the small space Flaky had tried to put between them, leaning far too close to steal a grip on her hand with the pistol–

“SHOOT HIM, NOW!”

Gunfire ricocheted from the depths of her mind, ripping her from a restless sleep. Flaky shot up from the bed, lungs tight and heart racing. Startled yet again by the same nightmare that’s plagued her dreams for weeks.

Through her trembling and blurred vision, she saw sunlight filtering through the curtains, brightening the soft colours of Lammy’s spare bedroom. Flaky glanced down at her new silk pyjamas, dampened by another night of cold sweats.

The shaken porcupine kicked her legs out of the sheets to sit upright on the edge of the bed, blinking away the rogue tears lining her eyes.

Flaky tried blocking out the haunting image of the gruesome aftermath – the tragic result of her failure to prevent the pull of the trigger. No matter how hard she tried, Flaky struggled to avoid reliving the tragic moment whenever it invaded her dreams.

She massaged her temples in an attempt to banish that awful memory. Then she checked the bedside clock. She’d slept in again. Flaky wondered if Lammy had already left for work.

She listened idly for a moment, unable to hear sounds of life in the apartment. Then she rubbed at her eyes and willed her sleep-numbed body to stand.

Very soon, Flaky found the motivation she needed to leave the bedroom – if she is alone in Lammy’s apartment, Flaky felt compelled to check the door is securely locked.

She hurried across the length of the apartment, moving as though all fatigue had left her body in an instant. Relief chipped away Flaky’s panic when she made it to the front door and found it locked with both key and chain.

Then she pressed both hands against the door, standing on her toes when she felt an urge to peer through the spyhole. But she stopped, frowning while mentally scolding herself for almost letting fear take control of her day so soon. Flaky moved away from the door, determined to embrace another day with hopes of finding a sense of normality again.

Tiredly, Flaky ventured into the living room. Lammy had left everything spotless before she’d left, and had opened every curtain to welcome the day into her apartment. An inviting patch of sunlight beamed through the glass door to the balcony, tempting Flaky towards it.

As she basked in the warmth of the midday sun, Flaky stared below at the apartment complex. Between the three neighbouring tower blocks, she saw its large outdoor communal area, teaming with residents enjoying the sun. The greenery surrounding the complex looked healthy and vibrant, a refreshing change from the concrete hell she used to see everyday.

When the sun disappeared behind a passing cloud, Flaky turned away from the balcony door. Her stomach began to rumble, so she wandered into the kitchen. Then she spotted a note on the island countertop. Flaky easily recognised Lammy’s tidy cursive handwriting,

‘Good morning, Flaky!

There’s a bowl of blueberry porridge for you in the microwave. Add a small dash of milk before you reheat though, the texture will be too thick by the time you’re awake.

See you later! x’

Touched by Lammy’s thoughtfulness, a grateful smile tugged at Flaky’s lips. This time, she wouldn’t allow herself to waste her friend’s food – she still felt awful about abandoning Lammy’s pancakes the other day.

But as Flaky reached to pop open the microwave door, she froze when she caught a waft of her pyjamas, still slightly damp after sweating during the night.

Revolted by her body odour, Flaky hurriedly left for her bedroom, thinking to herself, ‘I can’t believe I didn’t shower yesterday... Or the day before!’

Flaky quickly gathered all the toiletries she needed and darted for bathroom. One look in the mirror above the sink and she gasped with horror – small flakes of dandruff had formed at the roots of her quills.

She stared at her reflection, grimacing with shame. Flaky already knew this would happen if her quills went unwashed for more than two days. But she at least felt some relief having bought the right quill lotion at the mall recently.

Hastily, the porcupine undressed, then waited for the running water to heat up to her desired temperature. With the water just below scorching, Flaky stepped in, relishing in the soothing heat as she let her quills soak through.

With each passing minute, standing idly under the pleasant stream, Flaky felt her worries melt away under the heat, if only for the moment. But realising she might become the sole reason for a hike in Lammy’s water bill, Flaky snapped out of a blissful trance and reached for her shampoo.

She scrubbed and scrubbed, until her arms ached and fingers felt sore, until the dandruff disappeared again. With her scalp flake-free and fresh once more after a rinse, she took her time in massaging the quill-softening lotion through the length of her locks. Then after rinsing her quills again, she thoroughly cleansed her fur with a vanilla soap bar.

Now finished with freshening up in the bathroom, Flaky returned to the bedroom wrapped in a clean towel. Feeling slightly lightheaded from the hot shower, she dropped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling until the dizziness faded.

Having decided to pass the time by purchasing a replacement phone, she glanced over at the bedside table. Below the small lamp is where she’d stashed Flippy’s note. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She’d arrived back last night feeling so exhausted, Flaky never looked at what he’d written, assuming he’d only penned his number. So she slipped it from underneath the lamp and gingerly opened the small folded paper. Below the digits, she saw his perfectly written note,

‘If you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me anytime.’

The little smiley face he’d drawn at the end of his note almost made her giggle. But the longer Flaky dwelled on the idea of venturing to the mall alone, a thousand thoughts began to spin, colliding together into one fear-induced assumption.

‘...He will have eyes everywhere by now...’ Flaky thought, staring blankly at the wall ahead.

The small flare of warmth after reading Flippy’s note dissipated from inside her chest, flushed away by horrifying visions of being dragged off the street and stuffed into a van.

He had done such things to others before. His favourite sick and twisted method for hauling back traitorous individuals within his gang, or members that dared to leave the organization.

What happens after... Flaky guessed she’d be in for the same horrific treatment... Or something far worse.

Her vivid imagination began to taunt her relentlessly, until all she could think about were those cruel hands barrelling down on her. Beating. Clawing. Dragging.

Frowning, Flaky drew a strained breath and quickly slipped the note back underneath the bedside lamp again. Before she became hopelessly stuck in her head, Flaky wrapped her arms around herself and held her form tightly.

Staying inside the safety of Lammy’s apartment started to sound like the more appealing way to spend her day. But Flaky couldn’t handle waiting idly for Lammy’s return, alone with treacherous thoughts that pushed her to the edge of insanity. So she hastily stood from the bed, stormed over to the wardrobe, and picked out an outfit.

Flaky dressed in dark denim shorts and a tank top, then threw on her new sneakers. She felt amazing to finally be in her clothes of comfort.

Then she sat before the vintage white vanity unit, and a mirthful smile wiped the frown from her face – in her apparel, Flaky couldn’t help but notice that she looked completely out of place within the elegance of Lammy’s spare bedroom.

Before she could feel optimistic about stepping out of the apartment, Flaky had to ensure her mass of crimson quills were discreetly hidden – any watchful eyes in public would certainly notice them first.

So with a metal wide-tooth comb in hand, Flaky brushed the length of her quills. As they still held some moisture from the shower, she smoothed them out with ease. With her locks now tamed and sleek, Flaky twisted her quills into a low bun with the help of several hair ties and clips.

Despite another sweltering summer day, Flaky threw on a dark jumper and pulled the hood over her head. Then with Lammy’s spare key and her ex’s cash card stuffed in the pockets of her shorts, Flaky hurried to leave the apartment, before she had a chance to change her mind.

~ ~ ~

With the warm summer air breezing past his face, Splendid leisurely cycled towards the twin bears’ home. After last night’s scuffle, the squirrel was left guessing the sort of mood Fletcher would be in today. Considering the scarred bear’s outrage after learning Splendid had known all about Giggles residing in his home, he didn’t expect Fletcher to greet him with hospitable behaviour.

As Splendid peddled through the quiet affluent neighbourhood where the twins’ home resided, he admired the many other large and expensive homes dotted across the street. Their widespread private gardens, lush green and adorned with seasonal flower beds in full bloom.

The idea of living in a wealthy residence had peaked Splendid’s interest once, but when he thought about the loneliness he’d feel inside a large empty house  – and the sheer amount of cleaning involved – Splendid learned to appreciate his tiny, two-bedroom home.

With a squeeze of the brake levers, his bicycle halted outside the white picket fencing of the twin’s home. Relief flushed away all his prior concern when he saw that Fletcher hadn’t burned the house down. That’d been the only scenario playing in his mind ever since the bear had raced off with a vengeance the night before. Inside the house, however... Splendid tried not to assume pure chaos waited within those walls.

While slowly approaching the home, Splendid pushed back his sunglasses to rest them over his short blue hair, curiously eyeing the closed blinds of each window. Lingering in the air around the home, a faint smell of ash and residual smoke tickled his sensitive nostrils. But it didn’t smell anything like cigarette or marijuana smoke...

He gave the door a subtle knock, hoping to avoid raising alarm in the quick-tempered man. But a minute passed with no response. So Splendid sucked in a breath and rapped his knuckles a little harder the second time. Still nothing.

Growing impatient with every minute, Splendid tapped his foot against the ground and sighed. He pressed an ear against the door, trying to listen for any traces of movement. Hearing nothing but silence, he soon gave up on standing around and reached to try the handle.

But just as he failed to open the locked door, his burner phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. Surprised and confused to hear from Shifty again so soon, Splendid turned away from the door and checked the message,

‘I have an important business meeting this evening that I’d like for you to attend. With your identity hidden, of course. Be at the liquor store 6pm sharp and wait for your escort. Formal attire only. You can expect payment of your choice for your attendance.’

Splendid rolled his eyes and scoffed, left with no choice but to show up by the sound of it. So much for another night of blazing to the high heavens while catching up on his favourite crime reality show.

Despite the bubbling irritation at the forced change in his plans, Splendid quickly sent a response,

‘Got it. I’ll be there.’

Splendid tried to recall if he even had  any formal wear for this meeting. Rather than waiting around to guess, he turned his attention to the house again. For all Splendid knew, Fletcher could be out somewhere. He had no patience left in him to learn the source of the smoky aroma lingering around the house. But Splendid also didn’t want to leave without delivering the bear’s half of the money, as promised.

So he shrugged his rucksack off his shoulders, unzipped it, then reached in to retrieve a sealed brown envelope. Splendid pushed it through the metal flap of the door’s letterbox, returned to his bicycle, then hurried home.

He would’ve preferred to hand over the money in person to ensure Fletcher received it without any misunderstanding, but if Splendid’s wardrobe lacked any formal clothes for tonight’s spontaneous invitation, he’d have no choice but to spend the rest of his afternoon on a shopping trip.

~ ~ ~

Empty and crushed beer cans lay scattered across a stained kitchen table. Face-down in a slump, Fletcher slowly began to stir awake from a heavy sleep, only to be greeted by a crushing hangover. The skull-splitting headache that followed threatened him with a wave a nausea.

Groaning, the scarred bear clutched his head as he slowly pulled himself upright. The smoked ends of cigarettes that he’d been lay on dropped from his cheek. When his vision refocused, he spotted the ash tray he’d accidentally fallen asleep on. Fletcher grumbled with disgust and used his sleeves to wipe away the drool and ash from his face.

‘What the fuck...?’  he thought, heavy-lidded eyes scanning around the kitchen.

Seeing the mess around him, Fletcher soon remembered what he’d done before getting blackout drunk last night. He felt like bashing his face against the table.

After he’d stole the keys to the house from Flippy, Fletcher had raced to the local gas station, then hurried home with a half-rack of beer and a full canister of gasoline.

Then he’d stopped at nothing. He’d ransacked every room, every cupboard, every draw, until every item that belonged to Giggles had been collected, ready to be disposed of.

He’d grinned like a madman and stuffed all of her things into the garden’s incinerator bin, emptied the gas canister into it, then triumphantly knocked back beer after beer as he watched the chipmunk’s belongings burn to ashes, never to defile his parents’ home again.

But what a mistake it had been to fuel his rampant hunt with alcohol – the state of disarray he’d inflicted in every room began to fill him with regret.

To have let his bitter rage get the better of him once again... Fletcher struggled to grasp Splendid’s reasons for helping him out of prison. A small part of him started to believe that he belonged in that wretched place.

In an attempt to push past his debilitating headache, Fletcher stood from his chair to slowly and carefully stretch away the stiffness in his back and limbs. He trudged to the kitchen sink, ignoring the angry jackhammer pounding behind his eyes, and ran the cold tap to splash water on his face. One thing Fletcher knew for certain is that he’ll be avoiding another copious intake of beer for a long  time.

Now slightly more alert, he felt the need to freshen up and wash away the stench of sweat, smoke and beer clinging to his fur. But he knew it’d be pointless to bathe before dealing with the chaotic mess within the house.

Fletcher retrieved a glass to fill it with water and quickly knocked it back, desperate to kill off his crippling hangover before he lost the motivation to tidy up. To further assess just how much tidying he’s in for, the scarred bear begrudgingly exited the kitchen.

He shuffled past the upturned furniture of the living room, despising the sudden shame that clawed its way forward to mock him for taking out his anger on his home. Fletcher tried not to imagine how his parents would feel if they were alive to witness the destruction for themselves...

When he made it to the hallway to venture upstairs, a brown envelope by the front door caught his attention. He raised a brow, but assumed it to be mail for Flippy. Until he picked it up and found his name written on the front.

Confused, Fletcher carefully tore one end of the envelope open. Inside it he found a generous amount of money tucked inside a folded piece of paper. He soon learned that Splendid had posted this when he read the written note on the paper,

‘I didn’t bail you out of prison just so you can be an asshole to Flippy. What’s done is done. Make things right or our deal is off. Enjoy your money.’

With gritted teeth, Fletcher snarled at the note, bottling the urge to scrunch the paper in his fist. But still... he couldn’t deny that Splendid’s words held a bitter truth.

It pained him to agree with Splendid on such things. But after lashing out multiple times, overreacting, and stirring up nothing but trouble since his return, Fletcher struggled to paint himself as anything but an ‘asshole’.

Now, Fletcher’s gut brimmed with even more regret, left to face the inescapable and messy result of his turbulent behaviour. What he’d done to his own home. Not just his home, but rightfully Flippy’s too. He desperately wanted – no, needed to gain self control over his temper. He just didn’t know how yet...

As he shuffled through the messes in each room, Fletcher rummaged under misplaced furniture and scattered household items until he finally came across his phone. Flippy would have every right to refuse after what happened last night, but Fletcher wanted to offer an apology to him in person.

So after typing out a message for Flippy, sincerely as could be with his words, Fletcher started the gruelling task of cleaning up his devastating mess.

~ ~ ~

It was unusual for Flippy to wake up dreading the silence of his motel room. For almost a year now, he’d learned to find comfort in solitude. Time alone was all he’d sought after suffering a painful heartbreak, and it’d turned out to be something he enjoyed more than the company of others.

So Flippy resented the hollowness he’d felt that morning when the sunlight had stirred him to life. But what had fuelled this feeling even more was the frequent urge to check his phone.

He’d splashed his face with cold water until the dull ache in his chest had dispersed, then he’d spent the late hours of the morning doing nothing but read. But he’d failed to concentrate. The bear became irritated by the numerous times he had to reread simple sentences when his mind trailed off on its own accord – all thoughts drifting back to Flaky and her injuries.

He’d slammed his book shut, regarding it as a pointless waste of his time if he could barely register any of it coherently. Then, after a morning’s worth of effort to avoid checking his phone, his willpower had crumbled like the old drywalls around him.

Flippy had snatched it from his bedside table... and saw nothing. He’d thought it’d feel like the norm to see an empty phone screen – having succeeded in distancing himself from almost everyone in his life – so he didn’t understand why disappointment had hit him like a ton of bricks.

With very little to occupy his restless mind in the motel room, Flippy had hurriedly dressed in sport attire that would keep him cool enough in the heat, then ventured out by noon for his daily jog.

Now, under the dappled shade of the forest’s trees, Flippy kept a brisk pace as he jogged along the main road, only ever disturbed by an occasional passing car. When he came towards the off-road trail he frequented that cut through the dense woodland, the bear slowed to a light jog to maintain good footing on the uneven terrain.

The freshness of the air rewarded him with the calmness he’d hoped for. When the runner’s high began to flush away his worries, Flippy stopped for a short break to catch his breath, fanning his vest over the layer of sweat clinging to his abs.

He could tell his years of smoking were slowly creeping on him by the slight burn in his lungs after stopping. Despite his efforts to throw away that habit for good, it always boomeranged its way back to him. Relying on smoking as a source of stress relief had unfortunately sealed his doom from the start.

After re-tying his unkempt locks, Flippy took off jogging again. He only got so far along the trail when he felt his phone vibrate once.

A jolt of excitement spiked through his veins. He couldn’t tell if the natural endorphins currently flooding his system were the culprit, but his mind could only wishfully think that Flaky had reached out to him already.

But reality snatched away his delusions when he saw Fletcher’s name on the screen. Flippy ran a hand over his damp forehead, hating how foolish he’d become to have believed the porcupine would contact him so soon.

‘Get a hold of yourself, dammit,’  Flippy mentally scolded himself, ‘she doesn’t even have a phone...’

He tried not to ponder over Flaky for the moment. Not now that Fletcher is likely about to dampen his mood again. With a sigh of contempt, Flippy begrudgingly tapped open the text to read what he had to say.

‘Hey Flip. You have every right to ignore me after I tried to hurl a chair your way last night. I’m a huge fuckin asshole. But I’m sorry. I wanna apologize in person to show you that I mean it, but if you don’t wanna see me again, I won’t hold it against you.’

Flippy read the text twice. Then a third time with growing suspicion. He tried to decide if Fletcher’s words held sincerity, or simply a trap masked behind an apology to lure him back for another grilling.

Throughout their shared years, Flippy learned to take Fletcher’s multitude of apologies after behaving cruelly towards him with a pinch of salt. Because his yellow-eyed brother never seemed to understand how much meaning the word ‘sorry’ can lose over time when used too often.

Flippy’s lifelong experience with Fletcher made him want to ignore the text, just like his twin had assumed he would. So with a hard frown, Flippy left Fletcher’s message on read and stuffed his phone in the pocket of his shorts.

Then he continued his jog at an unhurried pace, pretending he never received Fletcher’s text. But the relentless familial bond that stretched between them started to tug at Flippy the longer he avoided Fletcher’s efforts to apologize.

With a huff of defeat, Flippy jogged a little faster on the trail towards the motel. He knew he’d fail to ignore Fletcher no matter how hard he tried. But rather than respond to him over a text, Flippy decided to make an appearance in person, as per his brother’s request, to catch him by surprise. But first, Flippy wanted to freshen up after a sweaty jog under the sun.

~ ~ ~

After a daunting hour of cleaning, Fletcher still had a few things left to do before the house looked presentable again. For the most part, all the furniture was returned to its rightful place, bar the broken dresser and its smashed mirror that he’d destroyed during his furious scavenge – seeing that it contained nothing but Giggles’s abundance of makeup and other beauty products, Fletcher considered it as nothing but a defiled lost cause, ripped out its draws and smashed the whole thing to pieces.

Fletcher headed for the utility closet to fetch a sweeping broom, broken debris and glass crunching under his boots. But he went still at the sound of quiet knocking on the front door.

He didn’t count on Flippy acknowledging his text so soon. Not while their house still looked like the aftermath of a reckless robbery...

Fletcher’s eyes widened, a sudden panic setting in as he frantically racked his brain for what to do next, ‘...Shit...’

Fletcher couldn't possibly work a miracle and make the mess disappear with the click of his fingers. So, in case it truly is  Flippy at the door, Fletcher hurried his way there, conjuring up a solid excuse to deter his twin from entering.

A quick check through the spyhole confirmed his assumption. There stood Flippy, arms folded, waiting to hear a response.

Fletcher unlocked the door, but only opened it a few inches to sheepishly greet his brother with a crooked smile.

At Fletcher’s silence, Flippy raised a brow in confusion, “I got your message.” Then he gestured to the door, “...Are you going to let me in?”

“Uhh...” Fletcher turned his head away, briefly scanning the half-tidied hallway behind him, then quietly mumbled, “...No.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” Fletcher avoided eye contact, ruminating his well-thought excuse.

But Flippy could see the cogs turning behind his twin’s frantic eyes, so he lowered his voice and repeated Fletcher’s response to encourage an answer from him, “...Because?”

“I, uh... I brought a girl back here last night. She... She’s butt-naked on the sofa so you’ll have to come back later-” Fletcher finally spat out, right as he went to slam the door in Flippy’s face.

But a simple observation of Fletcher’s rushed tone and uncharacteristic display of nerves, Flippy knew his twin lied through his teeth.

Sparing no warning, Flippy barged into the door before Fletcher could shut it and pushed past him. He went still, stunned by the messy sight. It became evident that he’d interrupted Fletcher while he was in the middle of tidying up the whole house. He didn’t need to guess Fletcher’s chosen method to blow off the rest of his steam after their heated exchange at Splendid’s.

Even though he’d previously jested to himself that Fletcher could burn down their house for all he cared, Flippy didn’t actually  believe his brother would do something like this. To their family home of all things...

Slowly, Flippy turned to quizzically stare at Fletcher in disbelief, “...What the hell, Fletcher?”

Rushing to his own defence before his shame became unbearable, Fletcher raised both hands and quickly spoke, “Alright, alright! Look, I’m real sorry, Flip. This is... one of the dumbest things I’ve done for a while, I’ll admit.”

Flippy’s brows furrowed together as he walked further into their home, assessing the remnants of damage that Fletcher had tried to hide. But beneath it all, it was clear to see the care and effort he’d put into reversing his impulsive actions. That alone made it hard for Flippy to face his brother with more resentment.

Fletcher silently watched as Flippy assessed the room, dumbfounded at his lack of anger towards him, “...You’re taking this a lot better than I’d imagined.”

“Where’s her stuff?” Flippy plainly asked, despite already knowing what Fletcher might have done with Giggles’s things. Regardless, he’d feel better hearing that he’d never have to see them again.

“Well... I tore this place upside down to find everything she left behind and... I incinerated all her shi-”

Flippy abruptly patted Fletcher’s shoulder, cutting his words short, then let out a hearty laugh, “Thanks, Fletch. Truly. For getting the rest of her crap out of here. I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with that.”

Still in a state of confusion from seeing Flippy’s calm reaction, Fletcher slowly nodded, “Um... Sure...”

“You look pretty rough today.” Flippy remarked, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he moved for the utility room. Then he returned with the broom that Fletcher initially went in for and asked, “Are you hungover or something?”

“I drank way too much,” Fletcher admitted, rubbing at his neck awkwardly, “I thought I’d make up for the five years of forced sobriety, but now I feel like pure shit...”

A half smile played on Flippy’s lips, seeing how his brother hasn’t changed his ways after all this time. Despite all the turbulence Fletcher had brought with him in such a short span of time, Flippy still felt grateful to have his chaotic twin back by his side again.

Seeing his blue-eyed twin do nothing but smile while silently offering aid in tidying their home, Fletcher felt guilt stab through his chest, so he reached out to take the sweeping brush from Flippy, “I did all this to our house, you don’t have to-“

“Nonsense,” Flippy said, keeping a firm hold on the broom’s handle, “It’ll get done faster if we both work together.”

Fletcher chewed the inside of his cheek to stifle his irritation and released the handle, “Fine... I keep forgetting that you’re just as stubborn as I am.”

Flippy only chuckled at Fletcher’s comment and proceeded to sweep the living room’s hardwood floor. Fletcher ventured off to find the vacuum cleaner, then headed upstairs to finish cleaning the bedrooms.

It took less than an hour with the help of an extra pair of hands, and very soon their shared efforts in cleaning resulted in their house being back in its – somewhat – original state. The bear’s dusted themselves off, returned to the kitchen, then each lit up a cigarette to enjoy their well-earned rest.

In the smoke-filled silence between them, Fletcher slowly drummed his fingers against the table, recalling the sole reason he’d asked Flippy to be here in the first place.

So after swallowing his pride, Fletcher cleared his throat before quietly speaking, “...I’m sorry for throwing a chair at you, Flippy… and for the things I said...”

Flippy lazily blew smoke to one side, hesitant to meet his twin’s yellow stare. His younger self would’ve accepted Fletcher’s apology instantly, over and over again after each altercation he’d started.

An angry voice in the back of his mind screamed at him, demanding his show of defiance to let Fletcher know that he’s far beyond submissively accepting his apologies so easily anymore.

But when he finally gave in and met the scarred bear’s waiting gaze, Flippy saw honesty glittering in his acid orbs, and his unguarded demeanour – an unusual show of vulnerability from his otherwise brash twin.

Feeling as though he may not see this side of Fletcher again when this conversation is over, Flippy furrowed his brows and spoke in a serious tone, “We’ll just forget it happened, okay? But you need to promise  me that you’ll get your temper under control. Stick to your methods for de-stressing, whether it’s your little spontaneous hook-ups, Splendid’s punching bag, I don’t care... Just don’t hurt anyone.”

Fletcher fought the dishonesty that threatened to spill over his features. He couldn’t admit that he’s done more than just hurt someone, for both his and Splendid’s sake. Even if it pained him to lie to his brother’s face. Seeing Flippy eye him with concern after his subtle show of discomfort, Fletcher quickly steered their conversation with an honest statement.

Frowning with distaste, Fletcher sat back in his chair as he admitted, “Nah, I’m done with women. I haven’t seen the appeal in fucking them for a long time. They’re nothing but headaches,” he pressed the embers of his cigarette in the ashtray and folded his arms on the table, “Seeing what she put you through is enough. Take my advice, Flippy. Focus on yourself. You don’t need a woman in your life.”

Flippy could only stare at Fletcher indifferently after his odd confession. But he tried to quietly disregard his advice by offering another alternative, “Well, how about going to the gym? I’d say it’s the perfect way to burn that energy you always have.”

Fletcher let out a mirthful chuckle, “Heh, if you’re looking for a gym buddy, just ask.”

“Deal, then. We’ll meet up a few times a week at the local gym. You can be a plus one on my membership, until you get your own, of course.” Flippy affirmed, pleased to know he’d have some success in keeping Fletcher in check. If his scarred twin agreed to, that is.

But Fletcher showed no signs of refusing as he grinned, “Sounds good to me. Perfect opportunity to keep up my physique. The prison gym fuckin’ sucked, lost a lot of my gains from the military.”

“Pair the gym with plenty of good meals and you’ll be back to your old self in no time, Fletch.” Flippy reassured. Then a thought occurred, “Speaking of which, why don’t we have dinner at the diner? You haven’t had a chance to check the place out yet.”

With a half smirk, Fletcher patted his stomach, “Now you’re speakin’ my language.”

That said, both bears left to freshen up in separate bathrooms, mulling over the outcome to their conversation.

Flippy discovered a new side to Fletcher. One that he couldn’t recall ever seeing before. The blue-eyed twin can only hope Fletcher will follow through on their agreement, and remain consistent in his efforts to do better for himself.

On the other hand, Fletcher felt an urgency to avoid his deal with Splendid from crossing his mind in Flippy’s presence. He’s honed the ability to expertly lie when necessary, but Flippy has always been the one to see through his fabricated tales with ease. The scarred bear prayed that Splendid wouldn't be a major topic in their discussions over dinner.

~ ~ ~

“...Will that be everything, sir?” Lammy kindly asked, scribbling down the customer’s order on her notepad.

When the man gave a simple nod, Lammy skated over to the bar to hand in the written order. During a lively Saturday evening in the diner, with almost every table occupied, the sheep couldn’t help but count down the minutes until her shift ended.

Behind the bar, working effortlessly during the dinnertime rush, DB danced to the disco music playing from the speakers, expertly filling up drinks for the customers. Accompanying him, an orange beaver, with fur of a shade darker than his, kept himself busy by taking orders at the till.

When Lammy stopped at the bar, visibly exhausted, DB finished shaking up a cocktail, poured it into a flute glass, then quickly handed it to the waiting customer.

“You’re doing great tonight, Lams, how are you holdin’ up?” The orange bear asked as he started preparing the drink she’d written on her notepad.

Lammy sighed, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the diner this  busy before, I expected a quiet night.”

DB let out a short laugh, then flashed a reassuring grin, “I can’t complain, the profits are coming in nicely. We’ll have the extra funds to have a dancefloor built in here very soon, then our groovy diner will be complete!”

Lammy forced a smile to match DB’s enthusiasm, then took the customer’s drink from him. But before she could skate off, the pale orange bear mentioned, “Nutty will be off his break in ten minutes, you can clock out when he’s back on the floor.”

Lammy tried to contain her relief at his statement, and smiled gratefully at DB, “Thanks, Dee, I appreciate that.”

She enjoyed her job at the diner, but the concerning lack of staff members made the busier nights almost unbearable. Despite only being open for business for a few months now, the growing traction meant that the quiet evenings in the diner will soon be a thing of the past.

As she skated towards the lone man waiting for his drink, Lammy kept a presentable smile on her face for the other customers she passed by. Then she placed the drink down on his table and kindly confirmed that his meal will be brought to him promptly.

So far, the regular customers that frequented the diner have been friendly and respectful, much to Lammy’s relief. She’s yet to encounter a troublesome customer. But when she scanned around the seating area for her next task, a glimpse of two tall males entering the diner made her blood freeze. The green-furred twin bears.

A wave of dread washed over Lammy at the sight of them. Of all the nights to come here, it had  to be during her shift. Lammy swallowed her panic, desperate to maintain her calm demeanour. But she struggled to keep up the welcoming smile, knowing she’d have no other choice but to take their order.

Slowly, Lammy continued to manoeuvre around the seating area, pretending she didn’t notice them while simultaneously searching for her fellow co-worker waiting the tables. When she finally spotted him, Lammy skated briskly towards him.

“Chuck,” Lammy called out, snatching the young bear’s attention before he could disappear into the kitchen. When he turned to face Lammy, she pressed her hands together with pleading eyes, “Can you do me a huge  favour?”

The pale brown bear pointedly glanced at the stack of plates in his arms, then raised a brow at the sheep, “But I’m on plate duty. Is it urgent?”

Her smile faltered, “Um, well...” Lammy nervously turned, then spotted the twins taking a seat in one of the booths. She hurriedly came up with an excuse, anything to avoid approaching them, “I have to use the restroom... Can you serve those two gentlemen that just arrived over there while I’m gone?”

Chuck didn’t hesitate to shake his head as he replied, “No can do. My dad needs more plates pronto, he’ll be super pissed if I’m not back in the next minute... Sorry, Lammy.”

Eyes wide with horror, Lammy watched Chuck wheel his way through the kitchen doors. Left with no hope of evading the bears, the lilac girl drew in a steadying breath to regain some composure, then hesitantly skated towards them, notepad and pen in her tense grip.

Both Flippy and Fletcher paused their idle chatter when Lammy stopped at their table. Recognising the sheep as Flaky’s friend that works here, Flippy flashed her a friendly smile. But Fletcher slowly narrowed his eyes at Lammy, recalling their initial encounter at the mall.

Using all her might to ignore the acid-yellow scowl on the scarred bear’s face, Lammy clicked her retractable pen and cleared her throat, “Good evening, are you ready to order?”

Flippy grabbed the menu from the stand, briefly scanning through the meals before responding, “I’ll have a macaroni cheese and a side of onion rings, please.”

With a nod, Lammy jotted down Flippy’s order, then reluctantly turned her attention to Fletcher, “And you?”

Fletcher’s glare never faltered as he sat back in his seat with folded arms, mumbling his response, “I’ll just have the same. Don’t spit in my food, yeah?”

Appalled by his comment, Lammy leered at the scarred man, “How rude. I would never do such a thing.”

Flippy interjected with an apologetic smile, “Uh, sorry about him,” then shot a sharp warning glare at his twin as he spoke through his teeth, “He’s full of jokes today.”

Lammy managed to withhold her contempt to keep up the professionalism, “Okay then... What drinks can I get for you?”

“Well, I’m driving so... Just a cola, please.” Flippy said.

“I’ll have–” Fletcher paused right as he went to ask for a bourbon, but the remnants of his hangover made his stomach churn at the thought of more alcohol, “...The same.”

With a hardened expression, Lammy quickly scribbled their drinks on the notepad, then left for the bar, desperate to be done with the interaction.

When Lammy hastily skated away, Flippy narrowed his eyes at Fletcher, “Can you cut the wit already? That girl is just doing her job.”

Fletcher lowered his voice and leaned closer as he glared at Flippy, “Listen, I don’t like that girl, or her little porcupine friend for that matter,” then he rolled up his sleeve, presenting the marks from the claw punctures on his forearm to further enunciate his statement, “That red bitch got real  fuckin’ lucky when she ran off that day...”

His cruel words wriggled their way under Flippy’s flesh, striking his nerves. He sat firmly, squaring his shoulders as he seethed, “Don’t call her that. You have no one to blame but yourself for what happened at the mall. Those girls already told me everything, right down the insult you spewed at Flaky.”

Fletcher clicked his tongue, then slowly sat back in his seat again, “Did they, now?” he mumbled. With a deep frown, he glanced sidelong and spotted Lammy returning with their drinks, then he shot his piercing glare at Flippy again, “That doesn’t matter to me. Those girls make my blood boil. Especially that porcupine. There’s something about her that doesn’t sit right with me...”

Curiously, Flippy tilted his head and squinted, “Care to elaborate?”

In the back of Fletcher’s mind, he visualised what he could recall of the porcupine’s wrist injuries in the mall that day. When he compared them to the bruises he’d found on the wrists of the bound canine, the uncanny similarities made it impossible for Fletcher to think of anything else but rope being the culprit for hers.

But the scarred bear knew that admitting such a telling detail would risk exposure about his and Splendid’s illegal activities, he couldn’t allow that...

So Fletcher dismissed his twin’s curiosity as he mumbled, “I’m not explaining myself to you.”

Before Flippy could object, Lammy arrived at their table with two cold drinks of cola, the ice cubes clinked against the glass cups as she hastily placed them down. Fletcher didn’t hesitate to snatch his glass from the table, refusing to acknowledge the sheep’s presence as he took long sips.

Flippy awkwardly glanced at Lammy, who visibly couldn’t wait to leave, and tried to form his words carefully, “Thank you, uh– Lammy, right?”

Lammy folded her arms, withholding her urge to scowl at the blue-eyed bear, “...Your food will be with you shortly.” Then she went to leave.

But Flippy quickly halted her by asking, “How is Flaky? Is she okay?”

The efforts Lammy had made to mask her bitterness towards the bears crumbled when Flaky’s name left Flippy’s mouth, and when she snapped her head in his direction, it became obvious that he’d struck a nerve.

Lammy’s expression twisted with anger as she looked down her nose at Flippy, “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again,” she snarled, “Mind. Your. Business.”

A glass slammed down against the table, and Lammy instinctively recoiled when Fletcher stood from his seat, scowling as he growled a warning through clenched teeth, “Watch your fucking tone.”

Sensing the rage bubbling inside his brother, Flippy hurriedly interjected, “Fletcher, sit down–!”

“Hey, lamb chop!” A baritone voice suddenly chimed.

Having spotted the makings of their unpleasant interaction from behind the bar, DB had apologised to the few customers waiting for drinks and swiftly skated over to the twin’s booth.

The orange bear placed a hand on Lammy’s shoulder, hastily leading her away from their table, “Nutty’s break is over, why don’t you get yourself home now?” he offered with a wide grin.

Lammy wordlessly agreed and didn’t look back once as she left to clock out. DB watched her hasty retreating form with a tight sigh, then turned to face the twins.

“Fletcher,” he started, arms folded, “while it’s great to see you again, please don’t upset my staff. It’d be a damn shame if I kicked you out of my diner on your first visit.”

Fletcher rolled his eyes, but then flashed a half smile at the orange male, “Sure... Nice to see ya, Dee.”

DB veered around to check the bar, noticing the orange beaver struggling to pour drinks fast enough for the crowd of customers, “I can’t stay and chat fellas, Handy’s about to lose it over there.” Then DB skated back to the bar, leaving the twins to sit in an uncomfortable silence.

Flippy never shifted his scrutinizing glare away from Fletcher, but the yellow-eyed twin avoided his stare, stubbornly looking out the window beside them. But after a short while, Fletcher felt his irritation flare the longer he felt Flippy’s eyes burning holes into him.

With brows furrowed, Fletcher snapped his attention on Flippy and seethed, “If you’ve got something to say then say it.”

“Fine. Get a hold of yourself, Fletcher. Stop with this pointless hostility. I thought you were trying to manage your temper.” Flippy scolded.

Fletcher vigorously rubbed at his face, then raked both hands through his hair, “I’m trying  to, dammit! Get off my fuckin’ case!”

Flippy just sighed, disappointment etching over his features as he turned to look around the diner instead of his twin’s grumpy face. Lammy’s defensive behaviour crossed his mind for a moment, and he couldn’t help but wonder what causes her to act so heavily guarded at the mention of Flaky. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fletcher impatiently drumming his fingers against the table.

“If this food doesn’t show up in the next minute, I’m leaving.” Fletcher grumbled.

“Have patience, look how busy it is in here.” Flippy said, gesturing to the lively seating area around them.

Just as a minute went by, a vibrant green squirrel in the diner’s trademark orange waiter uniform hurried over to their table, two steaming meals in hand, “Awfully sorry for the wait!” Then he placed them down, and bowed to them in an almost theatrical manner, “Enjoy!”

With an amused sneer, Fletcher assessed the jittery waiter as he scurried off, “First that schizo sheep, and now a twitchy squirrel... Is Dee hiring his workers straight out the looney bin or what?”

Flippy would’ve called Fletcher out on his snide remark, but he feared losing his appetite if it lead to another argument. So he reached for his fork and started eating, silently relieved when Fletcher stopped talking and followed after him – Flippy couldn't stomach listening to his brother’s bitterness any longer.

~ ~ ~

Flaky’s brief trip to the mall went without a hitch, much to her surprise. On high alert, she’d moved briskly to purchase a phone, blending in perfectly amongst the bustling shoppers, and didn’t encounter anything or anyone suspicious.

Flaky wanted to believe that her paranoia regarding the potential henchmen had been all for nothing, that nobody is out there looking for. But deep down, she knew it’d be too good to be true, and felt far from ready to let her guard down so soon.

After hungrily downing the reheated blueberry porridge, then throwing on some comfortable lounge clothes, Flaky grabbed her cigarettes and new phone before heading for the balcony of Lammy’s apartment. She closed the glass door behind her, hoping to prevent the smoke from seeping its way into the sheep’s home.

Then as she sat on one of the outdoor chairs, the sunset-kissed sky almost stole her breath away. Catching such a beautiful sight with perfect timing bloomed warmth in Flaky’s worrisome heart. To further relish in the moment, the porcupine slipped a cigarette from its box, lit the end and took a slow first drag.

Instantly, the hit of nicotine flushed away the lingering stress of the day, temporarily blurring her fears into nothingness. It pained her to rely on such an awful habit to feel calm, but she’d struggled to find alternatives to help her relax, falling into the unfortunate trap of addiction.

When Flaky finished setting up her new phone she tapped into the empty contact list and added Lammy’s number, having memorised it for years. But when she soon realised that she had no numbers of other friends and loved ones to add, a hollow pit formed in her chest. Flaky had no one else.

But then she remembered the slip of paper stashed underneath the lamp. Flippy’s number. That hollow pit started to shrink again, if only slightly.

Flaky quickly finished her last drags, tossed the end over the balcony rail, then went to hurry back inside.

But as she turned enter, a jolt of shock made her body freeze. Lammy stood behind the glass door, regarding her with a thunderous expression. Flaky internally cursed at herself, ‘Oh fuck...’

Lammy pried open the door, failing to contain her anger as she spoke with utter disbelief, “Are you... Smoking... In my apartment?!”

At her furious tone, Flaky tensed her shoulders, guilt pulling her features as she meekly responded, “...Yes, Lammy... I-I’m really sorry...”

Lammy folded her arms and stepped aside for Flaky to enter, “Pff. Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to your poor health! Are you trying to die young? You told me you’d stopped that disgusting habit years ago!”

Flaky tried not to let her friend’s judgemental tone get under her fur as she walked back into the apartment. But the moment she stepped through, Lammy sprayed an aerosol canister in her direction, engulfing Flaky in a fragrant cloud.

Flaky coughed and sputtered as she wafted away the overly sweet particles, “What the hell, Lammy! Are you trying to suffocate me?!”

“No,” Lammy plainly said, “I’m trying to eliminate that awful smell before it spoils my furniture. The woollen fabrics will soak up the stench like a sponge.”

Despite her annoyance, Flaky understood Lammy’s frustrations, and soon felt an awful sting of shame and guilt for smoking in her apartment without permission, even if she did so on the balcony.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll take a shower...” Flaky mumbled, “...I promise not to smoke here again.”

Then as Flaky left for the bathroom, she heard Lammy scoff and mutter to herself, thinking the porcupine couldn’t hear her, “...She should be promising not to smoke at all...”

After a quick shower with her quills up and away from the water, Flaky dried herself off and slipped into fresh pyjamas. On her way to the living room, she dumped her previous lounge wear in the laundry basket.

Now that she’s currently living in Lammy’s apartment, without having to pay a penny yet, Flaky wanted to contribute to all the chores, and she decided to start by doing their laundry first thing in the morning.

Flaky scanned across the integrated kitchen and living room space, then found Lammy by the kitchen’s centre island. Dressed in long silky nightwear with her white curls secured in several hair rollers, Lammy prepped a pot of tea for them.

Still ridden with lingering guilt, Flaky silently approached then quietly asked, “...How was work today?”

Keeping her focus on pouring tea into two porcelain cups, Lammy tiredly sighed, “Oh, it was dreadful, Flaky. The busiest I’ve ever seen that place since I started there.”

“Maybe it’s starting to gain popularity,” Flaky thoughtfully replied, “It’s quite close to the mall, and it has the old rink as a bonus feature. I suppose it was only a matter of time before people noticed it.”

Lammy placed the teapot, cups and a small plate of biscuits onto an intricate tray then carefully carried them to the round coffee table in her living room. Flaky followed, sitting across from Lammy in the opposite loveseat.

As Flaky picked up her teacup and took a small sip, Lammy stole a wary glance at her. An urge to admit encountering the twin bears froze on the tip of her tongue. Lammy chose to avoid bringing them up, knowing the topic would spoil her own mood for the night.

“Well, I’ll be happy to work in a popular diner. But Dee needs to hire more floor staff, there’s only three of us!” Lammy ranted on, “That’s just not enough to reasonably alternate our shifts during the week.”

Flaky picked a sugar-dusted biscuit from the plate and took a small bite, silently pondering over Lammy’s words. The idea of getting a job at the diner crossed her mind for a brief moment. Flaky studied Lammy, wondering if her friend would agree if she were to make that suggestion.

“I could really do with getting a job myself...” Flaky stated, “I’d be a good waitress, I think...”

While stirring her tea, Lammy tilted her head in thought. But then concern crept over her features, “You seriously want to go into work so soon? After the things you’ve been through?”

Flaky immediately thought about the damning cash card that doesn’t belong to her, desperate to be rid of it before it became a liability. Applying for a new account, then getting a job to build a source of income, is amongst her main priorities moving forward. Second to that is getting a place of her own.

“I need to work, Lammy. I don’t have money.”

Puzzled, Lammy stared at Flaky for a moment, trying to understand her statement, “But you’ve been buying things at the mall this whole time. Did you spend everything you had?”

Flaky’s head dropped slightly, bitter shame weighing heavily on her words, “...That wasn’t my money,”

Lammy stayed silent, raising her brows to urge Flaky’s hesitant confession.

Flaky forced her eyes to meet Lammy’s, a grating sensation clawing up her throat as she failed to mention her ex’s name, “...It was... His.”

Lammy abruptly placed her mug down on the table, the porcelain clattering against the smooth wood. No more secrets. She wanted answers.

“What’s going on with you, Flaky? Why do you have his card?” Lammy demanded.

Flaky looked away, panic seeding in her gut. Fear strangled the truth again, “I-I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

Baffled, Lammy went to object, but Flaky pleadingly clasped her hands together and spoke first, “Please. Help me get a job at the diner, Lammy.”

Lammy picked up her teacup again. She stared into the liquid as she slowly stirred it, battling an insistent urge to force the truth from Flaky. She sighed and took a small sip from her lukewarm tea.

“I’ll speak with Dee when I go back to work, okay?” Lammy said.

A grateful smile tugged the corners of Flaky’s lips, but Lammy honed in on the relief flitting behind her eyes.

So she firmly added, “But if I help you get this job, you better start being honest with me, Flaky. You’ve been downplaying the severity of your relationship with that man for years,”  Lammy narrowed her violet eyes, “You’re hiding too much from me.”

The tone of suspicion laced through Lammy’s tone made Flaky’s heart sink. Bottling the truth has caused nothing but agony for almost a decade. But confiding in Lammy about her life of entrapment, down to every horrific detail, would endanger the sheep more than she could fathom.

Flaky forced sincerity in her words, “I will tell you everything when the time is right,” then she smiled weakly, “I just want to focus on rebuilding my life a little more first...”

“I understand, Flaky, I do,” Lammy said, her hardened expression melting into concern, “but I can’t help but feel worried for you.”

“Everything will be fine, Lammy.” Flaky said, reaffirming her words with a facade of confidence.

Silence took over as they finished the last of their teas. The tension from their discussion lingered between them, and exhaustion seemed to zap their desire for further conversations.

Flaky slowly gathered the plate, their empty teacups and placed them on the tray. Then she moved for the kitchen to carefully wash the porcelain set before setting it aside to drain.

On her way to freshen up before bed, Lammy halted at the doorway to the hall, and leaned into it the frame as she spoke softly, “Thanks for washing up.”

Flaky smiled warmly and nodded as she dried her hands, then turned to face her, “It’s the least I can do.”

In hopes to further alleviate the tension stringing between them, Lammy kindly mentioned, “The diner is closed on Sundays, so it’s my day off tomorrow. I’ll be sleeping in for a few hours in the morning.” Then she swayed on her heels with a grin, “But if you’re up for it, we can go somewhere fun! It’s been a while since we had our girly days together.”

Her friend’s grin stirred that familiar warmth in Flaky’s chest, and she couldn’t contain a smile of her own as she replied, “Sounds great. We can decide our plans tomorrow,” then she left for her room after a tired wave, “Goodnight.”

Lammy quietly returned her ‘goodnight’ as she watched Flaky disappear behind the door. In the heavy silence that followed, Lammy’s thoughts raced over their recent discussion. A sense of foreboding forced an unpleasant chill down her spine. But she shrugged it off and hugged her arms as she padded towards bathroom.

~ ~ ~

While waiting to freshen up in the shared bathroom, Flaky perched on her bed. She fidgeted with the ends of her softened quills, aimlessly weaving her fingers through them. Her bored gaze scoped around the room before landing on her phone on the bedside table.

Without thinking, Flaky leaned over to grab the device, and lifted the lamp to grasp the small note. Then she sat upright, eyes tracing over Flippy’s handwriting in thought.

Seeing the time on her phone’s screen as she added his number, Flaky hesitated to open her empty texts. Part of her felt it’d be rude to message someone so late.

But after staring at her knees for a contemplative minute, a strange excitement overwhelmed her worries. Warmth spread from her fingertips as she gave into the compulsion to type. It took several attempts, but after constantly backspacing her words for the right sentence, Flaky soon hit send.

~ ~ ~

The familiarity of his old bedroom brought Flippy a sense of comfort. Dressed only in shorts, the heat of the night clung to his fur, keeping sleep far from his reach.

He’d tossed and turned for less than a minute before getting out of bed. Then after partially opening the window to circulate the heat trapped in his room, Flippy moved quietly through the hall until he reached the bathroom.

He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to cool down before trying to sleep again. Curiously, he opened the cabinet behind the mirror, eyes scanning the untouched contents. Much to his relief, Flippy found more of his prescribed sleeping pills. He popped one in his mouth and washed it down with a quick sip from the cold tap.

On the way back to his room, he paused outside Fletcher’s bedroom. Loud snores emitted from behind the closed door. Flippy envied his brother for how effortlessly he falls into a deep sleep, wishing he’d found his sleeping pills sooner. It could take another hour before he felt the effects.

Wide awake, Flippy couldn’t bring himself to lie in bed yet. Nothing for him to do but stare at the ceiling until the inevitable drowsiness hits. With a deflated sigh, he retrieved his cigarettes, overstepping his personal limit of five smokes in a day.

He pushed open the window a little wider, just enough to comfortably lean out, welcoming more of the night’s cool air. Lighter in hand, Flippy went to spark the end of his cigarette. But he paused when he heard the single buzz of his phone on the bedside table.

Flippy skeptically stared at his phone, trying to guess who would contact him so late. He left his unlit cigarette by the window and moved towards the bed. Then after reaching over to grab his phone, Flippy sprawled across the messy sheets as he checked the screen.

After squinting at the sudden brightness to read the message, his confusion quickly melted into something that fluttered in his stomach,

‘Hey, it’s Flaky. This is my new number.’

A stunned smile played on his lips as he read it a second time, utterly surprised to see her first text so soon, and so late.

After a minute of dwelling over his reply, Flippy considered the time and decided to keep his response simple,

‘I’ll add it. I hope you’re doing well, Flaky.’

Flippy hit send, then watched his screen for a while, curious to see how soon she’d reply. But the longer he waited, the more he recognised the anxiousness brewing in the back of his mind. So he blinked out of his unmoving stare and placed the phone down again.

Flippy cringed, pinching the space between his eyes as he squeezed them shut. For staring and waiting on a reply from a woman like an infatuated puppy, he mentally scolded himself. He dreaded the thought of his clingy behaviour resurfacing.

Flippy desired nothing more than the clarity he felt only in solitude, so he failed to understand why loneliness began to feel like a burden on his soul.

After laying motionless on his back, watching the ceiling fan silently spinning above him, Flippy’s thoughts began to fade behind a cloud of black fog. His eyelids drooped. The medication hit his system, suffusing a strong wave of fatigue that he couldn’t resist. Then he fell deep into a heavy slumber.