Chapter Text
"I see you there, rejecting all your earthly power
Protecting and dissecting 'til you've emptied every hour"
Why did all the bad things have to happen to him? Why did it have to keep going like this for him?... After everything he had to endure?
The semi-anthropomorphic porcupine wondered overwhelmed, while lying in bed. He felt it consuming him all over his body, like he was trapped in quicksand that was swallowing up his body slowly. It's not like he had enough strength if the bed could swallow him... He was 5'7", skinny without much muscle and fat, although baseball helped him with his physical health, he had to quit due to anemia and lack of money. But he could watch it on his cell phone or television! He was grateful for that.
Light came through the half-open window, iilluminating his messy room as well as his freckled body and dandruff-filled crimson hair.. It looked like the room of a rebellious teenager… I mean, he had just turned 18, so technically, he was one.
Despite everything, he had managed to accomplish a few things. He got himself a small studio apartment and a job at a grocery store. They paid him the bare minimum, but it was still an achievement! It was nearly a year since he’d arrived in town—since his mother had kicked him out for his “different” way of thinking... Deep down, he wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt. Ughhh! Whatever! He had to get up already; he had to go to work… If he was lucky, the sheriff would visit him. Oh… the sheriff… The man who had helped him so much since he arrived. He was so kind, yet so serious at the same time… He couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.
He got out of bed and started getting dressed, picking up the clothes that were scattered all over the floor. Ugh, he promised himself he’d fold and put them away properly one day… though, he had to admit, some of them were clean. Some… His mind kept drifting back to the image of the sheriff. An older man (maybe in his 20s or 30s?), much more masculine than him, serious but warm… He had lived so well thanks to his help. Though he knew that, in truth, it wasn’t the sheriff who had saved him so much. It was more like his idol. His favorite superhero. The town and city real protector…
Splendont
he sighed… He had started his shift at 6:30 in the morning, and it was already six in the evening. he was hiding in the back of the store. Was he being exploited at work? Well, yes. But he needed the money.
Ugh. he had only brought a cheese sandwich and had to ration it throughout the day. It’s not like he could afford anything else—he had to pay rent with the pittance they paid him. It was that… or prostitution, but Splendont would never allow it.
God, he looked skinny, depressed, and completely worn out. Dark circles covered much of his face. He looked like a kitten caught in the rain, searching for shelter. So… pathetic…
He heard footsteps behind him but tried not to pay too much attention. Probably one of his coworkers. God… his body tensed immediately. No, it wasn’t like he’d been abused or anything… but his social anxiety made him spiral into paranoia easily. He always felt like anyone could hurt him at any moment. Or worse: try to talk to him.
What if he looked like a weirdo to everyone? He probably already did, but he preferred not to confirm it. God, he wanted to go home. Things were always like this for him—he probably deserved it. But still didn’t know why. Was it something he did in his childhood? Was he a bully to other kids or-
A dry, firm cough pulled him out of his little world of guilt in his head
… “Splendont… I-I mean! Sheriff!” Flaky whispered foolishly, lovestruck by his idol, then quickly corrected himself, praying no one had heard him. He was surprised to see him there, standing in front of him with that imposing presence—so full of power and confidence. As always… like his savior, like the hero who had rescued him from his own world and a cruel past.
He was carrying a bag full of snacks—a couple of sandwiches, some candy, and a few sodas… all for her. Just for her.
“Don’t tell me that was the only thing you brought to eat all day,,” he said, with a slight tone of disapproval in his voice. “Again, Flaky? What did we talk about?”
His tone was firm, like an adult scolding a child. Which, to be honest, was exactly what was happening.
“I-I’m s-sorry! That’s all I had at home, a-and I don’t have much money on hand. I-i had to pay for a few things and—” “Then call me,” he interrupted with the same firmness, as he sat beside her. He handed her the bag of food without another word, so she could eat in peace.
“…Thank you.”
“How’s your week been?”
he asked as he watched her enjoy the food.
“Better than others, I guess… Nutty’s been helping me out financially now that he’s working here too,” she replied, taking small, shy bites—though it was obvious she was starving. “
And he’s here, right? Because I didn’t see him…”
There was a brief silence before Flaky answered.
“No…” She looked ashamed, like a liar, after having promised him weeks ago that Nutty was a good guy. That he was just misunderstood. That she could help him, like he had helped her when she arrived in Happy Tree Town.
“Flaky…” he sighed in frustration, running a hand over his face.
“N-no, wait… I-I know what you’re going to say. But he is a good person, okay? He just has his issues with addiction. You can’t judge a book by its cover… You told me that.”
“It’s different when we’re talking about someone who can’t go a single minute without something in his system. I’ve seen him more than once with those two criminals. What do you think of them? Are they just two poor souls stealing out of need, too?”
His words were cold, harsh. A truth that hurt more because of how he said it than because of what he said.
Flaky said nothing. She just lowered her head, shoulders tense, sandwich forgotten in her hands.
“If you came just to scold me, you shouldn’t have even bothered… and definitely not to judge my friends,” she said quietly, without looking at him. She stared at the floor, her shoes, anything… anything but his face. Anything but what he might say next.
He just sighed and looked at her gently, as if he regretted letting his emotions take over.
“Hey… I didn’t come here to scold you or judge your friends. I just want to help you. To make you see that they… they’re not the best influence. Flaky, I care about you. I want to see you doing well. That’s why I scold you. That’s why I correct you.”
“You scold everyone. Why would I be any different? What makes me more important than any other citizen in this town that you help every day?” Flaky said, her mind twisting into a knot of doubt, fear, guilt, and sadness.
She wondered if there was really something in her that made him stay. She feared his answer. She felt guilty for even asking. What if he left? What if he gave up on her too, just like everyone else?
He let out a soft, warm laugh and gently rested his hand on her head.
“You’re special because you’re the only one who really wants my help—and lets me help. You know my brother is the star of this town and the city, the hero everyone looks up to. Everyone wants his attention, his empathy. In cases like yours, they’re supposed to talk to me for legal or social matters, but in the end… they all end up asking for him.”
He looked at her sincerely.
“You’re the first one who came to me. So with you, I plan to put in double the effort.”
He gave her a light pat on the back, trying to cheer her up. Flaky hesitated for a moment, but then let out a tiny smile.
“I didn’t want to bother your brother,”
she said sarcastically, still not looking at him, but clearly more at ease.
“Hey!” the superhero exclaimed, pretending to be offended. But they both knew he was joking.
They walked in silence toward Flaky’s apartment. The sun had almost fully set, and the streetlights were gradually turning on, bathing the city in warm hues. The air was crisp—too crisp for her—so Splendont offered his jacket without saying much. She accepted it, shivering slightly as she held a warm cup in her hands. After all, they had stopped by a small coffee shop on the way back, just to spend a bit more time together.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, tenderly studying his masculine features—his tired eyes, his straight nose, his strong jawline. His hair was crimson, just like hers, though slightly darker. Even their eye color matched. They were meant to be together! she thought, a silly smile curling on her lips. Meanwhile, Splendont suspected she might just be hallucinating from the mold growing on her bathroom wall…
“I’ll be busy this week, but if you need anything—money, supplements, whatever—call me, okay?”
She nodded gently.
God, this was going to be stupid… but she did it anyway. She leaned slightly toward him, brushing up against his side, just to wrap her arms around his. She pretended nothing was happening, said nothing. She looked so shy, so hopelessly in love… it was obvious.
Splendont suddenly stopped walking and looked at her, serious—but his voice was warm.
“Flaky. Do you have something to tell me?”
She froze, embarrassed.
“E-excuse me…?”
“You can tell me anything, don’t be scared,” he said, gently taking her hands and caressing them. “Do you like me?”
“Wh-what? I-I… I mean…” she stammered, completely caught off guard. Was this really how it was supposed to happen? Like this?!
He just chuckled softly and stroked the top of her head, careful not to prick his palm on her quills—not that they really hurt.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say it out loud. Just give me a sign, alright? Flaky, do you have a crush on me?”
She hesitated. Her face burned, her eyes trembled. But in the end, she gave the slightest nod.
Splendont smiled gently and resumed walking, as if nothing had changed. She followed him in silence.
“Flaky, you’re eighteen. And let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father… or even your grandfather.”
She stayed quiet. She knew exactly where this was going.
“My purpose is to help you, not to ruin you or take advantage of you like life already has. Maybe it sounds cruel, maybe harsh, but it’s the truth. You don’t yet have the emotional maturity to understand what being with someone like me would really mean. And I don’t just mean me. I mean in general. You’re young, you’re free… but also naïve enough to make poor choices.”
She didn’t respond, but her eyes began to fill with tears. She wasn’t crying—not yet—but there was a knot in her chest that made it hard to breathe. Splendont pulled her into a warm, firm hug.
“I know this hurts. It always does when something like this happens. It hurts me too. But remember something, alright? These feelings are like storms. They come fast, they hit hard… but they don’t last forever. And do you know why this is just a storm and not a disaster?”
She looked up, with some effort.
“Because you still have me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to disappear. I’m still here, and I’ll keep being here. To help you. To support you. Because you’re strong, Flaky. You’ve been through things no one should ever go through. And yet you’re still here, surviving. This... this is just passing rain.”
And that smile of his—serene, genuine, without a trace of mockery—was what finally allowed her to breathe a little easier.
“…Thank you,” she murmured softly, still unable to meet his gaze, as she took another sip of her warm drink. They continued walking, until he suddenly stopped again in the middle of the sidewalk.
She looked at him, confused. He just smiled calmly, as if waiting for her to realize something on her own.
“What…?” she asked quietly, hesitantly.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“Excuse me…?” she blinked, looking around. He simply gestured with his head.
Oh. They were already in front of her building. She hadn’t even noticed. She felt a little ridiculous for not realizing it sooner.
“I’m heading off, Flaky. You know, if you need anything… anything at all, call me. Got it?”
She nodded, small, like she didn’t want the moment to end. She let him turn and walk away with his usual calm pace. He could fly, of course, but he always chose to walk. Why?
She watched him until he disappeared down the street, raising a hand in farewell. Then she sighed, climbed the stairs to the second floor of the building, and slowly pulled out her keys.
But as soon as she opened the door…
A thick cloud of white smoke hit her straight in the face, forcing her to step back.
“W-what…?” she coughed a few times. Was the apartment on fire!?
She rushed inside, waving the smoke away from her eyes as best she could, her heart pounding from the panic—until she saw him.
Nutty.
Lying on the floor, surrounded by smoke, completely gone from the cannabis. Like he was drowning in his own haze.
“HHEEEEY, LOOK WHO’S HOME!” he shouted, barely conscious, trying to get up—and failing miserably. He collapsed back onto the floor and didn’t move again. Probably not until the next morning.
“Nutty!? What happened to you!? Are you okay!? Wake up!” she dropped to her knees beside him, shaking him desperately.
He didn’t respond.
He had no idea how he pulled it off, but somehow he managed to convince his boss to give both him and Nutty the day off.
God... they were both idiots, but Nutty... sometimes he even surprised himself. I mean, they figured it was just how he was. Most of the time, he wasn’t even fully conscious.
They were leaving the hospital, Flaky pushing Nutty in a wheelchair that he'd somehow "borrowed" from inside. Would he return it? Probably not. At this point, Flaky couldn't care less.
He felt wrecked. He hadn't slept well, and the medical bills had fucked him over hard: the ambulance, the ER, the blood tests, the monitoring, the hospitalization... He didn’t even wanna think about how Splendont was gonna yell at him later. His mind was everywhere but here. He just walked, pushing Nutty in silence, eyes empty, shoulders sagging under the exhaustion.
It was so obvious even Nutty — relatively sober now — managed to notice. And that said a lot.
Flaky snapped out of it when Nutty shoved a heart-shaped lollipop at him — one he had clearly stolen from the hospital (probably stole a bunch more, honestly).
Flaky just glared at him, said nothing, and pushed the wheelchair harder, scowling.
Nutty whined dramatically:
"Aww c’mooon, dude! I said I'm sorry! I'll... I'll pay ya back, man! Swear t’god!" he yelled, trying way too hard to sound convincing.
"Oh yeah? And how you gonna do that if you don't even show up to work?" Flaky shot back, pushing the chair even faster, his anger growing along with the tight grip on the handles.
"I'll gooo, dude! Jus’ tell me how much it was, man, I’ll pay ya! I’ll work! We’ll be, like, best buds again, brooo!" Nutty rambled, that dumb half-joking, half-desperate tone in his voice, trying anything to get even a tiny smile outta him, or at least keep from getting kicked outta the apartment. Even if it was under Nutty’s name, Flaky paid almost all the rent.
"Two grand."
Nutty blew a breath out real loud — "Pffft" — then fell dead silent.
When he actually had to think, Nutty got real quiet.
He awkwardly twisted around in the wheelchair, kneeling on it so he could look Flaky dead in the eye.
"Dude... swear to freakin’ god, I’ll sell it all, man! All the stash, all the plants, everything! I’ll clear it out, man, I’ll pay ya, swear, swear on my mom’s grave or somethin’!"
Flaky stopped cold.
He looked at him with this heartbreaking mix of disbelief and hope.
He wanted to believe him.
Really, he did.
Nutty, feelin' the weight of that look, whistled low under his breath and glanced anywhere but at him.
"Hissss... I’ll try, man... I’ll... I’ll try..." he muttered, playing dumb.
Flaky just sighed and started walking again, pushing the wheelchair with a heavy, disappointed look.
Nutty huffed, rolled his eyes, and clumsily climbed off the wheelchair to stumble alongside him.
"Heeeey, bro..." he whined, "I ain’t promisin’ how I'm gonna get it, alright? Might not be, uh... legal... or moral... or whatever, but, like, I’ll get it, man. Pinky promise, swear."
He added like it was the best plan ever:
"Been talkin’ to those raccoon dudes, y'know, the brothers? They cool, man, got connections an’ shit..."
Flaky's eyes widened.
"Them?" he whispered nervously. "They... they robbed me once... they scare me a little..."
Nutty let out a snorting laugh, then shoved Flaky toward the wheelchair, forcing him to sit while Nutty grabbed the handles like a madman.
"Pfffft, brooo, who doesn’t scare you?" Nutty teased with a sloppy giggle. "But for real, I'll be careful... 'n if I gotta, like, suck dick or whatever... then hey, man, whatever pays, right?" he added with a wide, crooked grin while sprinting full-speed with the wheelchair.
Flaky let out a small yelp of fear, clutching the armrests tight — but on his face, blooming, was a real, genuine smile.
One he only ever had... when it was Nutty and his bullshit.