Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chop chop chop chop- chop chop- chop-

It was a sleepy Wednesday afternoon. Capochin had worked, came home, and still decided he felt kinda up to cooking. So there he was, chopping onions to add to a pot of quick chili he was working on.

It was already bubbling, he just liked to add a few more when it was almost done and save the rest as garnish. 

He passively looked down at the onion, chewing on some of his mints to keep himself from crying, but the act of fine chopping still took a bit of focus.

And he tended to have several things wander into his way to try and break that focus.

One was…

“Okay, play…Wii Music Theme Song Whatever it Was Called for Ten hours-” The voice was tired, with a small smirk hiding underneath it. A phone chimed, and repeated back to him. “Playing…Mii Channel Music Ten Hours.”

He tensed up, and tried to ignore it in favor of making sure the knife was stable. He heard from the doorway, music began to play. The clunk of a phone being placed down and the volume being turned up. 

He didn't need to turn around to know what was happening. He heard the stomps of Hector’s feet smacking their way into the kitchen, even through compression socks.

Hector was dancing around behind him, he could just tell by the sound of his feet.

He tried so hard to not smile, or laugh, or even look at him. He kept chopping, the onions perfectly thin and mostly even.

As the knife grazed closer to his fingers, he felt Hector approach closer. He was peering over him, trying to see what he was doing. 

Capochin turned the knife to chop them a little finer, and knew Hector’s fingers were wiggling.

"Not a good time to mess with me, Hector.” He huffed, knowing it wouldn’t be heeded. Hector walked two digits on Capochin’s arm, making little doot noises alongside the funky song.

He was giving him such a cheesy grin, and Capochin wasn’t even looking. Just kept chopping the onions. 

He grabbed most of them and tossed them into the pot, giving it a small mix. Hector followed him, shimmying around and trying to get his attention further with the silly dance moves.

Which was just him tapping his feet and swaying his arms like he was DJ-ing for nobody. Moving his hips a bit, flicking his tail happily. Making kissie faces.

Capochin grabbed a second onion, and started chopping it too. Silently admitting to himself that Hector was distracting him.

That didn’t mean he’d give him the satisfaction of getting in the way of dinner to be cute.

Would not stop him from trying. 

The music looped, and Hector poked him again. He didn’t even need to say a word, setting one hand onto Capochin’s side, tickling just a bit by his ribs, squeezing him in an attempt to get him to crack and laugh.

“This is sharp, quit it-” Capochin simply elbowed backwards, bonking Hector’s hand away. Hector giggled at him, and he loved that noise but not when he was trying to quarter the onion, knife too close to his fingers. 

Chop chop chop chop-

Capochin focused down, chopping louder as if to try and deter Hector from being handsy.

He moved from trying to cusp his torso, running a finger along his back, still walking the fingers alongside the tune. Capochin had to swiftly repress the shiver it gave him. 

They walked further up his body before pausing on his head, there, Hector used both hands to tap on his head, on beat. He kept doing a specific little pattern. It was familiar to Capochin.

Two taps, one tap-flick of the hair- tap tap, tap tap flick of the hair…

It was code. Old code they hadn’t used with each other since flashlights in the drain. Shining so bright, telling each other they were safe in the midst of a stressful rescue.

Something that was always so beloved to him…

Seeing his light from across the canals…

Capochin blushed a bit at what he said, but did not want to let him win. He was tired, and just wanted to eat. It was hard not to smile a bit.

He did it again, switching to doing it with one finger, shifting to lean next to him as if he was about to kiss his cheek.

Fingers spelled “I…L…U…” but his mouth whispered, “Issit ready yet-” right into his ear, before giving the side of his head a big ole raspberry.

Capochin shrugged him off, so fast at the spit on his face. Oh, that was it-

“EUGH, NO-” He turned and pointed the knife at him, a VERY empty threat, but it was a comedic image to even him, “It won’t be if you don’t stop bein’ a cute dumb little bug!!” 

The music looped again, “And shut dat off!!” He pointed the knife at his phone too, and Hector simply gave a smirk, still moving his hips to the music.

Capochin realized it was likely because he won and got his eyes on him. 

“But first! Watch this-” Hector pointed down to his socks, and Capochin was so confused. Hector held up his hands, waiting for the optimal part of the song to do what he wanted to do.

He watched Hector in those compression socks stick out his arms and do a swift little ballerina spin. He nearly slipped backwards, making Capochin put the knife down to catch his sleeve. 

Hector giggled to himself, and Capochin merely steadied him with a small scolding. “Ya a mess, Heckity. Ya can’t go around goobering with slick socks or poking me when I’m holdin’ a sharp ass knife! You’ll get your dumb face hurt, and then I’ll HAVE to laugh about it.”

He gave Hector a little shove, and that was a major bluff and Hector knew it. “Soooo if I did another funky slide and fell on my face, it’d make ya happy? Cheer you up a bit?” Hector goaded him, putting his arms on the counter as Capochin finished tending to their garnishes.

That little smirk on Hector’s face combined with the ongoing annoying music made him sigh. “I think it’d make ya throw out your back and I’d explode about it.” 

A thought popped into Capochin’s mind, leaning immediately into it with a smirk of his own.

“But yes, at first, I’d laugh at your ass and your dumbassery, then take you to da hospital and see if they can’t get it removed after they fix ya spine.” Capochin spoke sharply while getting out two bowls.

Hector burst out laughing, getting Capochin’s smirk to turn into a smile. He reached over and turned off the music, “Whwwhwh-wait, okay so, are you havin’ them remove my ass or my dumbass?” 

Capochin dished up the chili, and Hector moved in tandem with him, opening their fridge to grab the container of sour cream.

“Well hm…I like one, and the other annoys the drain out of me. But removing one without the other may be hard. Hmmmm…” He tapped the ladle’s handle on the side of his cheek, as if actually contemplating it.

“Capo…Capo…Shoe, beloved, please pick wisely…” Hector’s giggles were strong, putting his hands together as if actually begging.

“It’s a tough choice!!! Lot of complications happen in ass surgery you know!” Capochin was straight smiling at this point, taking the sour cream from Hector and opening it. Grabbing a spoon he gave it a stir, getting rid of that gross seperation.

“They could mix em up and make you a smart ass! Or a Jackass!” 

Capochin paused, a second thought occurring to him, “But wait…wait I just got word from the Doctah, as you’re waiting in dat hospital room.” Capochin put the cream down, putting a hand to his cheek as if alarmed by something.

They both made their bowls up, Hector asked, “What’d the doctah say?” Barely holding onto his laughter. Capochin took two spoons, put one into his own bowl and smacked Hector’s nose with the other.

“You’re all three and they ALL gotta go!!” He punctuated it by tossing the spoon into Hector’s food, splatting onto his little mountain of toppings.

Hector raised his fists, dramatically going “Nooooo!!” 

Capochin’s smile got bigger as Hector laughed, and he decided it was his turn to be handsy. “Yep! And you know, they told me that as the bestest Capo in the universe, I, of course, get first pick-”

Capochin reached over, and gave Hector’s butt a quick grab and squeeze. 

Hector squealed, grabbing his bowl and backing up from him. “Don’t take it!! I’m still usin’ it!” He walked backwards away from Capochin, snorting and giggling as his tail coiled into a heart.

“Nope nope, git back here! They told me all of ‘em have to go and if anyone’s taking it it's me!!” Capochin lovingly chased Hector as he rapidly stepped away, feet almost slipping one more time from the socks for his health. 

Capochin pinched his fingers at him, making Hector laugh more. “If ya wanna dish it ya should take it, cherie!!” He called, as Hector rushed to the table, sitting in his chair with a slide.

“HA! Good luck taking it now, mister man!”

That taunt was immediately taken as a challenge. Capochin still approached, and merely tossed himself into Hector’s lap, making himself comfortable with his own bowl on the table. 

“Oof-!” Hector wheezed when Capochin adjusted himself, barely fitting with the way the chair was shaped. Capochin was unbothered, one hand sliding behind the chair and into Hector’s back pocket.

As he held it there, he took a bite of his chili. “Mmmm, dat hits the spot.” He leaned further into Hector with a smile, and snuggled his head into the crook of Hector’s neck.

“I think you’ll like it.” He smirked, squeezing the hand in the pocket. He breathed into Hector’s neck, making him blush and smile, before pressing his lips into his chin. 

There, Capochin too let out a large raspberry, making Hector squeal once more. They both burst into giggles, and made no moves to get the other off of each other. 

They simply sat close, as comfortable as can be despite Capochin being quite heavy on his poor legs, and ate their chili together.

“If I tell you you’re the best at cooking and I love you, can I keep 'em?”

“Only if you start now and do it a hundred times.”

“Eh? Oh! Alright-I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU-”

Capochin closed his eyes, and took another bite, not even counting as Hector held him close. Replacing a few "I love you"'s with peppers of kisses on his head.

The flavor was immaculate and the mood was still zapping with silliness.

His hand remained where it was. He stayed right there.

This was where he wanted to be.

Chapter Text

Another storm. Another flood. Another set of homes torn asunder. 

Rubble and fragments of pipes flowed down the street.

They were lucky to see there were only injured, not a single fatality. 

Hector paced through the scene, moving debris out of the way as that thought passed his mind. As he continued scanning through the ruins of a neighborhood.

None reported. None yet.

Deep breath, keep going. Keep going.

He called out to two of his boys from across the lot. “Circle around and meet at the van! Get more tape and section off the site, let’s go before the rain picks up again-!” Orders left and right as he checked on each one he brought along for this clean-up.

It was just two boys and Capochin, but it was still good to make sure they were all doing well.

Working through the rain on his trek to clear paths, Hector saw Capochin walking and talking with a small family they rescued from the wreckage. 

What seemed to be a mother, father, and little girl with messy braids who couldn't have been older than five.

Capochin hovered his arm around the mother, guiding them with care, “-And from there we're gonna getcha a ride to the shelter, alright? Keepcha safe n’ sound until everything's fixed on up for you guys.” 

The mother nodded, and with a small voice, she thanked him.

“It’s nothing, ma’am! It’s what we Bizzyboys do.”

The four of them stepped into the street, into the water that easily covered their feet, rising just to the top of Capochin’s ankle.

The young girl squeaked at it, hugging a stuffed bunny close to her chest.

“Careful, watch your steps.” Capochin warned, moving so all three of them were ahead of him. 

The van was just across the street, parked next to an overflowed ditch. The water rapidly flowed southbound, as rain kept sprinkling around them. 

Capochin moved ahead to hold open the sliding door, extending his hand for them to get in. The mother climbed in first, and the father approached, and they all glanced back at the little girl.

She was near, but in the rushing water mixed with the blowing wind, she shifted awkwardly and stumbled forward. Her father and Capochin startled, rushing forward to make sure she didn’t fall.

She caught herself, but not without extending both arms and dropping her stuffed toy. It plopped straight in the water, and was swiftly carried away by the current. 

The little girl, once quiet in the rubble of her home, immediately wailed at the sight. 

The scream and her large tears could’ve moved the world. 

She tried to toddle to grab it but was grabbed by her father, despite his own heavily bandaged arms.

He held her close, picking her up out of the water to console against his chest, hushing her softly. Little fists banged into him.

She kept screaming, and Capochin watched the soft rabbit float away. “Awh, I’m sorry, kiddo…” He said, reaching over to pat her on the head. “It’s gone now…”

Capochin startled when a hand pushed past him, smacking him on the shoulder and rattled him. 

Hector scared him with how fast he dashed down, shoving past as he chased the toy down the ditch’s bend. 

“BOSS!” Capochin called out to him, but he was still running. Right down the street as fast as he could.

Capochin looked between him and the family, and pointed two finger guns at them. “I’m just gonna, he uh- He has the keys to actually, drive the van, so uh- get comfortable, close the door and I’ll be-” 

He didn’t finish the sentence as he rushed to chase after Hector.

His boots splashed as he ran down, vision tunneled on the rabbit's black buttons twirling around in the ditch’s reservoir. 

The storm, in the echo of the severe one that brought them there, still flashed lightning over their heads. Hector didn't even look up as the doll was carried down a dip.

The flood was flowing down the ditch, and rushing down into large culvert that bumped the road up with a hill.

The culvert was thankfully doing its job, the water flowing effectively after the heavier of the rains. It was steadily evening itself out.

Hector slid to a stop when he saw the rabbit plop down, being swiftly engulfed by the water entering. 

He looked ahead and saw the culvert was very long beside the road, so his best option was…

Capochin wasn’t a slow fella. He could rush through floodwater like nobody’s business, but it still took him longer than he liked to try to catch up to Hector. Hector was somehow faster, likely with the height advantage.

This whole chase felt ridiculous to him: they were mid-rescue and both could be needed by their men and they’re way down the road!

He looked back and saw they were both far enough away he couldn’t even see the van or shattered homes anymore.

His heart pounded as he tried to catch up, barely able to see Hector’s expression. 

Hector barely paused in his view before he saw him leap into the ditch and run into the damn culvert-

“Hector!!!” Capochin called, as if scolding one of his associates. With no obvious answer, Capochin knew what he had to do. 

He hopped in right after, because if someone jumps off a cliff-

Capochin groaned at the wet smack of his feet, the sound of wet pavement under their boots was replaced with the thunk of the poorly concrete-sealed pipes that made up the culvert’s interior. 

Cracks ran down the entire sogged floor of the culvert, barely hidden by the height of the water still actively flowing.

He could see Hector, still running forward. He followed as quickly as he could, just to see Hector stumble forward. It was like he almost slipped, hand splashing in the water. 

“Auh!” Capochin yelled for him, as he watched Hector continue forward. He couldn’t see what he was doing, except trying to steady himself.

It wasn’t like this culvert was very well lit, damp darkness hiding all but the motions of their bright red coats. The lightning of the storm barely made it to them.

Hector stumbled again, arms close to himself. Capochin had enough.

“Hector STOP!” He called ahead, voice echoing around them. Hector shifted, stopping with a skid and Capochin could hear his attempt at catching his breath finally.

Capochin was a little surprised his call worked. He was expecting to have to call a couple more times.

Hector turned, a hand on his chest, and all Capochin could really see were his big ole glasses. It was almost as if his eyes were glowing, but they were shrouded in the same darkness he was.

“It’s gone, Hector! We have to go back!” 

It’s gone, it’s gone, its gone-

Hector didn’t even reply to that, continuing to try to catch his breath as he simply turned around and started to walk back to Capochin. Empty handed.

It broke Capochin’s heart a bit to see.

Capochin gave him a sad little look, moving to meet him in the middle. The flowing water was the only sound that surrounded them, as Capochin extended his hand to take Hector’s.

Ready to give it a squeeze and apologize.

Hector reached to accept, feet smacking against the crackled concrete. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but nature cut him off.

Thunder rolled, sending an explosion of loudness through the entire concrete cave. Both men’s tails puffed as it sounded on without end, shaking the floor beneath them.

All they could do was cover their ears. 

It froze them.

The noise mixed with one much more subtle. Almost silent, but still heart-dropping. They both looked down.

Crrrrrrrcrcrcr-

Both of their eyes widened, and they had to think very fast.

With that one fast thought, Hector’s decision was to push Capochin as hard as he could back towards the culvert's exit. Capochin’s fast thought was blown away by the shove.

He landed roughly on his rear and quickly gathered himself to look up. 

The floor fell beneath Hector’s feet. Shattered, it gave way. It gave way-

Capochin cried out when Hector’s own shriek sounded, which was a choked “AW HECK-”

The world sped up as it fell from underneath them.

It was as if he was swooped out of sight, falling straight down the gaping hole in the pipes.

The concrete's erosion revealed uneven and sporadic layers of pipe underneath, no attempt was made to make it stable.

The fall to the natural pocket in the culvert’s patchy design was about six or seven feet. There was nothing but more concrete and pipes beneath. No dirt, no water, nothing but hard cold cement. 

Hector landed straight, legs buckling as he rolled forward with a resounded THUNK-

As fast as the world sped up, sending him to the floor, it slowed down. 

Water that had splashed over him slowly flowed down the large hole, but his current state left him unable to mind.

His cheek was pressed to the floor, head spinning just a bit.

It made his vision sway…and blur just a touch.

He groaned, putting a hand to his head. Ache spread through him. He ran his fingers over his face- Oh…his glasses fell off- That's where the blurriness came from.

He peeled his cheek off the concrete and gave himself a mental check.

First things first, still alive! Good sign!

Tongue over teeth…No taste of blood in his mouth. That meant he likely had all of his remaining teeth.

A deep breath, in and out, no pain in his chest other than the pain of contusion. Good, he didn’t have insurance that’d cover it if he had internal bleeding.

He pressed his hands onto the hard ground, patting it to check it for further stability. 

He found his glasses within arms reach, grabbing them to put them on. That was a good step, he figured, as his heart beat made his head hurt.

He had to get up, get out of here, take a Tylenol and go to bed-

All he had to do was stand.

He lifted himself, just enough to try and shift his feet.

Only for a shooting pain to snake up his leg, startling him into a harsh gasp. 

Oh, that was not good-

He pushed himself to sit on his butt, pulling up his left leg as much as he could. Using a single finger to pull it back, he peered into his soggy boot.

He groaned at the ugly sight.

His ankle was immediately swelling, bruises growing up its side. He shifted his head, wishing he could smack it against the pipes but he couldn't scoot far enough to do so.

“HECTOR!!! HECKTA- ARE YOU ALRIGHT-?!” He heard Capochin shout down to him. He looked up and saw his right-hand peering down the hole.

His eyes were full of tears of utter terror, likely from the worry of looking down and seeing him dead.

Hector shook his head, it started to pound a bit. He couldn’t do that. Not to them.

“You ain’t okay?! What can I do, what do you need?!” Capochin kept screaming, and Hector waved his hands up to him.

“No no no, Cappy, it’s okay! I’m alright!” 

Hector tried to demonstrate this by shifting onto his knees and attempting to stand, “Jusss Gotta...climb on out!” Ain't that tall a climb-

He tried to bear weight onto the ankle but even the stubbornest of brave faces couldn’t fight the pain. He gasped a whine, falling back forward with a hiss.

“Auh!!” Hector yelped at himself, shifting and trying again to the same painful result.

Capochin merely called down, “Boss, boss, stop that, quit it! Here-” Capochin looked behind him, wondering if this was a stupid idea.

He should go get help, but the thought of leaving Hector alone when this culvert could see another flood of water any moment…

The thunder rolled again, the rain outside of it picked up. Water kept trickling into the hole.

This wasn't about to be the last time he sees him. He had to act now.

He used a tight closed fist to smack around the hole. A few more chunks of concrete fell into it, making Hector scream. 

“Sorry!” He called down to him, fear and worry of messing this up making his heart race and that fist shake.

He found a pipe jutting out of the side of the hole that didn’t crack on first tap. He grabbed it and tugged it, and it didn't budge. 

Just his luck, it was… semi- close to where Hector was curled up. “I can’t come to you, Heckity!” 

Capochin coiled his tail tightly around the pipe and despite his shaking he bravely lowered himself a few feet into the hole. Enough to where Hector could grab his arms.

“But I can pull you up!” He kept his feet firm on the wall, and put too much trust into the busted culvert. He held open arms out to Hector, who gave him a shiny-eyed look.

He didn't really have a choice in this one, he had to trust his precious second. 

He took a deep breath, and moved to crawl to the edge of the hole. Each small movement shot burning pain through his ankle, and he knows damn well he needs to take his boot off but he’d rather have it stuck to him than dip his foot straight in floodwater.

It hurt Capochin to not leap down there and help him off the floor, but he had to think at least a little rationally. 

Hector hissed a sharp breath, grabbing onto a pipe that cracked through and using it to yank himself onto at least one foot.

He leaned onto the wall, and looked up at Capochin. 

His eyes were as tired as Capochin’s were scared.

But those scared eyes told him.

“Let me take you from this place.”  

Hector, despite the pain, reached up and grabbed Capochin’s hands. “Good!” He swayed a bit, dangling the left foot off the ground.

“Just…I need you to climb up just a bit so I can keep a hold of you-”

That made Hector glare up at him a little bit, and all Capochin could do was sweat “I'M SORRY-” 

Hector merely hissed, and tapped his left foot down for a moment to climb up a single divot in the wall.

“AH-” He gasped to himself when it touched down, but the small leap let Capochin scramble a bit higher.

He gripped as hard as he could to Hector’s upper sleeve, trying to pull him up. It was a difficult task, even if Capochin sold himself as strong!

He was able to sit on the top of the hole but wasn't able to tug Hector without Hector’s help. His clothes were wet and his rain jacket was slick. He needed more force. “One more!”

“AUHHH- Cappy I can’t-!” Hector couldn’t help but blurt, left foot dangling down. Capochin gripped his arms tighter, and yelled down at him, “Yes- you- can!!”

He spoke, fragmented in the strain, “You're Hector! You can- do anything!”

Hector whined, small tears falling down his face. He didn’t want to do anything but he needed to do everything so he could be something.

So he buckled up his courage, and took one more leap. Capochin used the extra height to get himself out of the hole, and pulled Hector the rest of the way up. 

Hector cried out, flopping forward into Capochin’s arms. He held him dearly, wanting to sit there and let him rest. To tend to him fully and properly.

To pause the world around them and heal it all.

The thunder rolled again. Water started flowing slowly around them. Hector was breathing hard, but he knew.

They had to move.

“So what’s hurting, what do you need-” Capochin asked, quickly as if Hector was one of their rescue patients.

Hector, unable to fight or deny it, answered breathlessly, “Left ankle-” 

Capochin moved to grab his boot, and Hector hissed just as fast, “Please don’t touch it-”  

Capochin lifted his hands, and let it be. Instead, he grabbed Hector’s arms and moved to his left side.

He wrapped one of Hector’s arms around his shoulders, and held that hand tight. He used his other hand to support Hector’s back as he stood him up.

Hector groaned, but was willing to try taking a step forward. He kept almost pressing the left down, but Capochin encouraged him to lean on him.

As he limped out of the culvert, he took him up on it. He leaned in as much as he could.

He let him be his other shoe.

The walk back took much longer than the run. For obvious reasons. 

Capochin tried to not stumble, walking slowly as Hector tried to hop through the still flooded street.

He could feel Hector’s trembling as he squeezed his hand. He could feel his hitched breath as he cupped his side. 

He kept glancing up at Hector’s face. Seeing it twist in pain broke his heart in two. The rain pelted both of them, making them both worry about a new surge of flooding. 

What mattered most to Capochin was getting him to the van. Safe and dry and given medical treatment.

Hector would stumble forward, Capochin would grip him tighter. It kept up like that for a good fifteen minutes until they finally passed the caution tape their boys had strung up.

It made both of them so happy to see, before remembering what it meant. Why it was there.

Why they were there.

The homes all around them. Toppled by the storm. Being laughed at by the current rain trying to tear more hinges off of doors long blown away.

Hector let out a shudder of a breath, and Capochin led him away from the scene. 

The van wasn't too far from that, the two Bizzyboys standing in front of it. One was holding their phone up trying to get bars. The other was actively on the phone.

Capochin’s phone was inside the van, ringing incessantly.

“Oi!! Open da slide door!!” Capochin hollered, startling both boys. Phones were swiftly put away and orders were heeded.

One pulled open the sliding door, the other approached them as they continued hobbling closer. “What happened, Inspector?” They addressed Hector, who gave a weary grunt in response.

“What happened-” they tried to ask Capochin instead. They moved to take Hector's other arm to support him too, but Capochin kept on without letting them.

Capochin didn't even answer, helping Hector into the van. He opted to give them another order instead, “I need you to get me some gauze wrap and a bottle of water-”

The boy listened, going to the front of the van to look in their very used-up first aid kit.

Hector huffed, as Capochin held him close. Capochin rubbed his hand side to side, comforting on the small of his back.

Hector's eyes wandered from the floor, to Capochin, to further into the van.

There, that family sat. The daughter, in those frayed braids, had fallen into silent crying. Her back was being rubbed by her mother, hushing her softly. 

He looked at her with a shaky breath.

“...I know, Specs. I know-” Capochin spoke, moving to get him seated in the back too. Had to get him taken care of as well.

Hector pulled away from him, limping on his own. He gasped at how quickly he lost balance.

“Hector, ah!” Capochin called and reached out to him, but Hector kept going.

He barely caught himself on one of the sides of the seat, claws gripping into them like his life depended on it. 

Hector used the seat as support, bouncing and grabbing each seat until he made it to the little girl. The whole family looked up at him in concern as he kept hopping. 

He paused in front of the little girl. She looked up at him with big wet eyes, a little intimidated by his height. A look into his eyes, soft and wanting, eased her a bit.

He tried to hop closer, stumbling and hiding his hiss in front of her the best he could. He began attempting to balance in front of her, hovering his hand on the van’s window.

He wavered, swaying a bit until the girl blinked her tears away and stood. 

She took Hector’s hand, and gave him her seat. “Hah- How- how sweet-” Hector was a little shocked, being practically forced to take it with how unsteady he was.

He kept that foot off the ground, leg tense in the effort, and held up his finger. A small “one moment” as he unzipped his coat a bit.

He reached inside, shuffling around as if searching for something.

Out did he pull…The stuffed rabbit. That beloved bunny, sopping wet, was rescued. 

He wrung the water out of it, squeezing as much from it as he could before offering it to her. 

Joy lit up the van in an instant.

She squealed as she grabbed it quickly and hugged it tight like she had been without it an age. 

Hector smiled, a strained one, but a smile nonetheless. “Such a s-strong little thing. A survivor, I see.” The little girl's tears changed from unbridled despair to pure happiness as she leapt into Hector’s arms.

Hector gave her a hug, not daring to show how badly it rattled his injuries. “It’ll be okay-”

Capochin merely stared at the display. He watched as the girl clung to Hector, immediately launching into babbling about the bunny. “He got a boo-boo from the storm being mean, it pushed him over-”

She made it waddle around Hector’s lap, and he put on a baby voice right back “Awh did he?” 

It was kinda mesmerizing to him. The way Hector just shelved the pain for the sake of this girl. His foot still hovered and shook like he was a wounded dog, but his eyes were bright on her. 

He merely reached back into his coat, produced a bandage and pressed it onto the bunny’s forehead.

It made her smile, and she held it up to him one more time. He gave the bandage a kiss.

Capochin’s mind was wandering, watching this display made him realize how well that pose suited Hector. 

He wore that nurturing image so well-

It made a different life flash into his imagination. 

A child with hair as special and curly as his, running up to him. Hector would pick them up and spin them around, asking them how school was as he held them on his hip.

The child would beam and not once talk about flood-drills, evacuation-drills or even worry about a drop of rain getting in their lunch.

Just kindergarten fun, all day, each day.

They’d be so safe, in a house that always smelled like fresh baked goods, with a strong guiding hand behind them.

Never a worry, never a care.

Capochin shook his head at those thoughts, as Hector kept tiredly entertaining the little girl. 

Ha, the thought of settling down with kids was a way far off deal. Way, way out in the future.

Capochin’s thoughts wandered once more, “Plus, we’re barely twenty-four, there’s plenty of time to figure-” 

His face burned at the “we” his brain didn’t correct. Such a bold assumption, he’d have a chance of a future like that.

Picket fence. Stability. Little ones.

A safe domestic kind of life?

With Hector? He has to keep it real. For his own sake.

A life as such could not exist the way his imagination tried to crave. Too many risks, too much potential loss.

Capochin saw it all. 

Hector’s leg stiffening further in his attempt to not let it touch the floor, ignoring the pain for everyone’s sake.

The child without a home, given a small glimpse of beloved distraction.

The parents with ever breaking hearts wondering how they’ll get by until they can finish their work, tearfully enjoying the sight of their little one happy.

It’d be cruel to imagine such a life in this place, with how unsafe their world is now. It’d be unfair to everyone involved…

Capochin sliced through it and tucked it into the back of his heart to look back on in private. 

The future could wait, he needed to focus on the present. 

The people who existed in the now, the mother, father, and the child.

The one who rescued joy.

He focused back on Hector himself, who was clapping for the little girl and her rabbit.

It made his heart soar that he’d risk so much just so she’d have a lick of comfort in this maelstrom of a life the Drain could lead.

The way he sat, smile remaining firm despite the fact he still doesn’t know if that ankle is broken or not-

Moments like this made Capochin’s knees weak, inspired and in awe at how bright he tries to make everything.

Sticking out his neck so a child could still have happiness in this forsaken place.

Selfless. Loving. Powerful. 

His leg lost energy, and he tried to straighten it and place his heel down. Hector then had to try and make that gasp of pain sound like it wasn't that bad and he failed immediately. 

It threw Capochin out of his fantasies and pipe-dreams.

He approached Hector and held out his hands, making a little gimme motion. “Keys?”

Hector had one eye closed, and obeyed without complaint. Capochin spun the keys.

“We're gonna drop them off at the southside flood-loss shelter and then get you to the E.R.” He pointed at him, which made him straighten with raised eyebrows.

He fixed his posture, and instinctively argued a touch, “Ohhh no, they're probably packed- I'll just wrap and ice it-” The pressure inside his boot was slowly getting greater and greater but he still didn't want to go. 

He had work to do! Had to get emails written to the district about home reconstruction! 

Then he has to write their own damage report, report that damn culvert even though he knows it won't get touched, touch base with the rest of the boys and make sure the flood didn't affect them or make them lose power, power on power forward!

Capochin shook his head, “We're not takin’ no risks with you! None!” He waved for the Bizzyboys they brought to sit, and Hector merely groaned, melting back into his seat more.

Capochin didn't let him argue further by starting the van. 

Hector was mad at himself now, going and getting hurt and wasting precious time that could've been spent getting more things done-

They're gonna be there all night he knows it!

He wore that frustration expression until softness touched his cheek. The little girl squished the wet doll onto his face. 

“Mister Clickers is the bravest ‘n coolest…” she said to him, getting more comfortable into Hector’s lap. “If he can do that ‘n still gets hurts sometimes then so can you!”

She made the bunny dance again, making him flex like he's so strong. “Gotta get you a bandage like him and me and Daddy and Mommy and Mister Wilson cross da street and-” The little girl prattled and Hector just gave her a droopy-eyed smile.

He gave her a big nod, saying down in his precious little baby voice “Mhm!! You're so right! I guess I do need a small band aid! That's my job affta all! Making sure everyone gots a bandaid!” 

His stomach was in knots with how much pain his boot was sending his ankle into but he refused to show it or make any attempts to yank it off.

“You're such- a smart little sweetie!” Hector gave her hair a ruffle, and she beamed and hugged onto him more. He grabbed the seatbelt, giving it so much slack and buckled both of them into the same seat.

The girl didn't mind, she wanted to ride with him anyways.

“Okay Cappy, we're- we're ready-” He called, shifting his foot so it hopefully wouldn't smack the floor. The rabbit was put in front of his face again, as if distracting him from the woes of the Drain.

It made him softly chuckle. 

Capochin looked around at the road ahead. It was getting dark out, which meant there wasn't a street light or headlight in sight. He knew where this shelter was but it was hard to drive in pitch dark.

He turned on the brights of the van, and started the drive as rain kept beating on the Van's roof.

They hit a pipe in the road almost immediately, it knocked Hector’s foot into the ground and he gasped so hard.

Capochin looked back and saw his trembling…but also saw that little girl shushing him right back and waving the toy further into his face. 

The toy he saved, rescued. The feeling he got, the reason and the reward for it all. 

It made them both smile, even if Hector’s was queasy and pained. 

There was never any true light in the Drain. LEDS and headlights, but none that didn’t come from the hands of man.

The only thing remotely close was lightning, and that was a sign of dread.

Capochin focused on the darkened road, but that doesn't mean he didn't hear Hector try to laugh with that little girl.

How they played imagination games with that bunny the entire drive, and how she'd let him give the bunny’s paw a squeeze if a pothole sent him breathless.

How he’d give her the brightest of smiles and the softest of thank you’s.

Capochin knew. He's known for years now, but this just made it illuminate in neon signs.

The drain had the best ray of sunshine inside it that it definitely did not deserve. 

He hoped he could earn it too. Even standing in that light will be enough. 

If that light doesn't believe in itself? If the rain clouds pour over it and try to snuff it out?

Too bad. He’ll do it for him. He'll clear the skies.

It's better than any sun Capochin's seen yet anyways.

Chapter Text

Capochin never knew how Hector always knew what to say.

Whenever something was going wrong, he would always come up and take his hands and help him figure it out.

When they first moved in together, he watched Hector gather the rent. He hadn’t gotten a job yet, and guilt poured down his soul as Hector just quietly sorted his bills.

Too many bills for such a shitty little apartment. Capochin was appalled to find out they hadn’t looked at Hector’s broken oven for five months. He hasn’t even been living there more than two, and even he’s shocked.

All Hector would do was shrug, and be happy the stovetop still worked.

He placed the rent in full into the envelope, and licked it to seal it. Capochin approached, sitting down on their ratty couch next to him. “You know I’ll get half next month, I promise.”

Hector grabbed a pen, writing the details on it. “Uh-huh, don’t worry about it. Take your time.”

Capochin didn’t listen, and punched his fist into his palm, “Half, and I’ll make sure that includes water since I’ve been trying to clean up extra around here and water’s been high- I just- I got a few more interviews coming up-”

He played with his hair, looking down at the pile of bills still on the table.

Hector’s van payment, utilities, rent, internet, cable, all of them. 

And he was here, making those higher and eating his food, using his shower, turning on his heater, taking his van for these interviews that have been wastes so far. 

He held his hair tighter, “If I get this job at the casino, it’ll be perfect-” He twisted it hard around his fingers, holding it taught as he pulled.

“I’ll be getting at least fifteen an hour, and I don’t do anything so it’ll go straight into saving and the rest will go to bills-” Some will, some will go to cigarettes. 

Hector knows this. He’s bought him two packs already. No judgement. 

He hated it, but he needed it. He already felt like a burden, he didn’t want to be a burden in withdrawal.

He went through it once, and he couldn’t imagine forcing Hector to care for him during it.

He had to be useful, had to earn his keep, had to make life a little easier for Hector somehow-

Hector paused his rambling with a small smack on the shoulder, “Cappy, hey-” Capochin let go of his hair and focused on him.

He was handing the envelope to him, closing it around his fingers. He gave his hand a squeeze, and looked at him with soft, tired eyes as he spoke frankly “I gotta get ready for work.”

Gods, that second shift, Capochin hated seeing him go to it. He wouldn’t get home until past midnight and he’d fall asleep so fast, in his uniform. Then he’d often be gone to his day job, before Capochin wakes up in the morning.

“I need you to walk this down to the landlady, in the main office where we pick up the mail.” Hector stood up, entrusting it to him wholly.

He gave his shoulder another pat. “We’ll work it out, okay?” 

Capochin looked up at him with sparkling eyes, and gave him a nod as they parted ways. That he could do.

It was the least he could do.

He delivered the rent. He got the job.

It worked out.

He didn’t know how Hector always knew what to do. Hector always surprised him, sometimes. There were many points where he showed that. 

Like when they got a better apartment, and barely a year later a child fell into their lives. Rescued from a collapsed building, no family to be found. 

All he had was a name, little Gruja. So Hector took him in, which made Capochin take him in as well, begrudgingly.

They referred to him mostly to as “our charge” to avoid confusion. 

Capochin paced when the child came down with a nasty flu bug. Typical for a child but lasting longer than two busy men knew how to handle.

Which was approximately a day and a half.

And all Capochin could do was stare at their thermometer, a worried look on his expression as Hector was rummaging through their medicine cabinet.

“This is bad, Heckity.” He cleared the temperature. 100.6 it read, and Capochin wasn't even positive he got a good read from how the child squirmed in discomfort from his touch.

Either way it was very high for a drainfolk youth who was forty pounds soaking wet. 

Hector had already gotten poor little Gruja set up with an old salad bowl, a warm blanket on the couch with the TV on a low volume…but cartoons and puking it out wouldn't heal him as fast as medicine.

“We can't take him to the doctor- that's another arm and a leg with this insurance switch- and we didn't exactly take proper custody of him, they'd check that-” Capochin paced in the bathroom, grabbing his hair again.

He wanted to go have a cigarette but he didn’t want to wave smoke Gruja’s way coming back inside. 

Hector didn't even look at him, reading the back of a bottle of thick dark-green liquid medicine. He peeled the drug facts to the side.

Gruja started coughing again, only then did he read harder. Hector read the age range, and smiled. He popped it open, and filled the measuring cup half way.

“Give him this for now. I’ll give him more after he tries ta eat something.” He gave the cap to Capochin, who raised his eyebrows at it.

Capochin looked it over, “This isn’t too much, is it-?”

Hector waved his hand down, “My pops gave me the full cap when I was his size. Whens I was sick, or if we had somewhere long ta go in the car- Made me sleep it off like nobody’s business, but I’d always wake up groggy with a weird dream…half should be better!”

Capochin blinked, absolutely hating the sound of that sentence that came out of Hector’s mouth, but he said nothing about it. He did not think Hector would elaborate.

“You sure this’ll do the trick?” His voice wavered in worry, not wanting anything to go wrong for any of them.

Hector put his arm around Capochin’s shoulder, and walked him to the poor child, “Hey, we’ll work it out either way, okay?”

Capochin could only nod, trusting in Hector’s judgement. The way he squeezed his shoulder made him feel confident. He was doing the right thing by him, and in turn for others. 

He gave the child the medicine. His fever broke by morning.

It kept working out.

He didn’t know how Hector always knew what to say, do, or command. Even when the Gods accepted him as his own, and he shed each old moniker for new ones.

When Inspekta took the helm, there was never any doubt that his word was key.

Each report he forwarded to him, each problem the grove commanded. 

It was like his fingers had a hummingbird heartbeat with how fast he conjured his divine whims.

“Boss! The Cove’s flooded and the locals are struggling to feed the tourists and their own!”

“Already talking to Mitternacht. Hot Dogs are near and sustainable for the people and tourists. We’ll work it out, okay?”

“Spekta, sir! Milldread’s roads are so bumpy, it’s causing issues for those in grove-approved vehicles and disabled folks!”

“Let’s send boys further into town and get supplies from the local farm to fill those pesky holes! Make sure each is filled and the roadways are clean! We’ll work it out, okay?”

Like clockwork a problem would arise and Inspekta would stretch himself to observe it. His body would coil and contort and move in ways that awed Capochin as he prattled these ideas to him.

As if a list was in the corner of his vision, crossing and accepting them in the blink of his bright embroidered eyes.

Instantly past his painted face.

Working quickly, effectively, efficiently, without a break, without a pause, without a single breath.

Capochin was enamored, and left him snacks between projects. Anything to make his life a little easier. A little better. A little sweeter.

“Boss! A terrible heat wave is snaking through Hobbyhoo. Its people are clambering to the sunset strip to cool off but Clicky Towers are closed off!”

“Ahhh…Writer’s block it sounds like! Frustrating! Ah, let’s get the van up there and try to pass out waters, cool packs and cool snacks and make some shady spots! We’ll work it out, okay?”

Something twitched in his words, as he watched his boys care for the people of the entire grove. As he had them all in his mind while the other gods were so focused on other things. 

His hands moved, as he waited for his kiss on the head, or his thank-you.

It never came, not directly, because this became his duty and obligation.

It was no longer special.

It was just the things he does.

Capochin didn’t even notice the twitches as he smiled so dear at him. Setting another meal down by him.

It was the one offering he got on the regular. It made his eyes light up. It was the closest thing he could get.

He could touch...he could hold...

Capochin adored it. He didn’t know how Inspekta always knew what to do, or say, or command, or put into action, but there was one thing he knew.

He loved seeing him smile. He loved knowing it was because of him and him alone.

That he was his one and only.

“Boss, sir! An earthquake caused a rock to block Bauhauzzo’s domain, cracking its outer wall! It’s causing the people of Buzzhuzz unrest, and they can tell Huzzle is upset as well.”

“Why is that- Can they not ask their own- ohhhkay okay, send a squad of boys to investigate and see if they can't bust that nasty thing up without damaging Bau’s domain. We’ll work it out, okay?”

Fragile. It was getting to be so fragile. A distant spark of electrical exhaustion. When his hands started to get tired he’d just use a new pair. Each task, each project, each year after year after year.

It whizzed by, it ticked so slow, it stagnated and felt endless. 

Fingers would trace the rising numbers. The squeak of rubber gloves against the five in Capochin’s age, as it rose once more. The same with Vibiano’s. Fifty. Fifty-One, Fifty-Two, Fifty-Three-

Another tab showed this cycle’s Godpoke’s face, King. The mail-carrier. Getting offered this position, handed the flier in public years in advance when his finally made it to his doorstep with barely six months notice.

She was crying while holding it to her chest, thanking everyone profusely. She had won the vote easily.

That honor…for delivering the mail-

He almost died trying to get this role-

Cracks formed underneath Inspekta’s eyes. A shock tore through his mind. If his tail could move it would be violently lashing.

Capochin approached him with a plate. 

He always knew what to say, as he took the plate from Capochin. He put it behind him and completely forgot about it.

“Cappy, I’ve been thinking…” He held his face with a single hand. It made his face burn, as Inspekta leaned in and whispered to him. “I think we deserve a little more, don’t we?”

Capochin blinked, and looked up into those eyes. Those eyes he’d give everything for.

They were stressed. That broke his heart. He agreed with everything that fell out of Inspekta’s mouth. 

He sat down and helped him write the most heartbreaking letters they could think of. He helped him get a stamp that looked exactly like King’s signature. He licked the envelope for him. 

Anything, anything to make his life easier. Never for a burden to graze his path. 

He couldn’t help but smile as Inspekta dictated exactly what he wanted him to do. Because it ended with him by his side as the biggest thing in the universe. In all of creation.

Ruling the people while he ruled the skies? Take him now. That was heaven.

Inspekta was his heaven. He was everything.

He read the last letter over, and it was addressed to Bauhauzzo. He watched as Inspekta prepped the email to enact the operation to exile Huzzle Mug.

It made Capochin blink a bit. “...This isn’t gonna be too much, is it boss?”

Inspekta could only laugh, grab his shoulder to give him a rattle, and say, “Awh nah, Cappy! It’s okay! Gots it under control, me and you together. You get that envelope delivered to Baubau, and we’ll work it out!! Oh-kay!”

Capochin held the letter to his chest. His heart beat wildly for him.

It was the least he could do.

He never knew how Inspekta always knew what to say, or do, or act, or think, or command, or anything.

He never did and didn't think he would.

As the world began to crack apart, as those walls broke down…he heard his everything's scream of the damned at the top of that Spire.

SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!

He's never run faster to the front of a crowd of people in his life. As everything sped up, as the wind blew so violently around them all...

He watched Hector fall from the skies, tangled in the recesses of Inspekta’s coat. Tumbling to the floor like he let the rope go himself.

Those words crumbled into meaningless nothings, as he almost laid to rot. 

Capochin didn’t know how he knew what to say, even with his own words building him back up. His mouth moved faster than his mind, as he lifted Hector from the ground with them.

As everything changed around him once more in an instance…

How Inspekta always knew....how Hector always knew...

Capochin supposed he never really asked.

Maybe if he did...it would've meant everything to him.

Now the two of them were in a small exile of their own. One they decreed for themselves. After almost destroying the world together, they figured it was appropriate to distance themselves from everyone for a minute.

They couldn’t live in the van, as much as they thought about it.

It was too small. Still burning hot outside of the seats from the God Complex crumbling.

Plus, Hector grew sick and pained from time catching up to him. It was not a safe thing for them to do.

So they found a hotel that would keep them for as long as they needed. It was relatively cheap in the deepest part of Hobbyhoo, and Capochin had savings.

There did they process. There did they allow themselves to fester. Just for a few months.

Capochin, still in his robe and tank top, stepped over fast food wrappers, cups and bags of chips that they had both left on the floor.

He was hunting for his pack of cigarettes after grabbing their mail, even if it was the dead of night.

It wasn’t much, but it had some things he wanted to share with Hector. He wanted to have a smoke before he did, so he could gather his thoughts.

He looked around, and didn’t even see Hector. He knew he didn’t leave the hotel, he didn’t go much of anywhere without him.

He didn't see him in their bed, or in the bathroom. This wasn’t a very big hotel room so there weren't a lot of spots to look! He was surprised it had a little sofa! 

Capochin hunted for a few minutes, thinking of driving off and buying himself a new pack, when he heard a small metal twang come from outside the nearby sliding door.

The fire escape. 

He opened the door and looked to his right, seeing Hector sitting on the metal stairs, facing away from him. He didn’t even notice him.

What Capochin saw surprised him just a touch.

Hector was smoking one of his cigarettes, the pack by his side. He took a drag with one hand, the other hand holding his new phone.

The glow of the drug was the brightest light, next to the glow of his phone's brightness. Hector's own light was burning low, he could tell.

His phone caught Capochin's eyes, as Hector's thumb shakily kept scrolling down.

Capochin could vaguely see what he was looking at.

Articles. From news websites and blogs alike.

“God of Leadership Cast Down After Frenzy in The Heavens! What You Need To Know About What This Means For the Earth As a Whole!”

“What Inspekta meant to me and why I now reject his insignia and scriptures.”

“Hector Page; Where is He Now?”

“Pictured: Bizzyboy Symbols tossed into a bag and promptly sealed.”

“A memorial for Inspekta, god of Leadership. Gone, but not forgotten.”

“What was the God of Leadership thinking?”

"Was there Justice within The Pantheon?"

“What would Inspekta have to say for himself now?"

Another long drag, a deep exhale sending the smoke around him. His fingers were all bandaged, a few of them were new as far as Capochin could tell. The bandage on his tail was newly wrapped.

His hair had gray spirals dancing around the light wind, and the smell of smoke didn't distract Capochin from the way his shoulders were shaking.

Hector swiped down away from the articles and tabbed to his emails. He stepped a little closer, seeing what they read. 

“Thank you for applying, Hector Joyce Page, but we’re going to have to deny you this position and move forward with another candidate!”

“Your request for financial aid has been denied.”

“Due to your current credit and standing record we cannot recommend you for this lease.”

Anger furrowed Hector’s brow, as his breathing grew shaky too. He held the cigarette back to his lips, and didn't even breathe into it, merely hitching quiet sobs.

Capochin watched his tail lash from between the metal steps, and knew he had to say something. He tentatively approached, and tried to casually ask, “Hey…can I steal-”

His words made Hector gasp and jump, nearly dropping his phone down to its untimely demise. Hector squeaked, holding it firm into his lap.

“CAPPY-” He coughed, as if not expecting to be found there.

He blinked his tears away with a sniff, turning his head as he held out the cigarette to him, “Sorry sorry- here-” 

Capochin took it, noted it was almost finished and gave it a single puff. “Eh, I’ll just-” He handed it back to Hector, an indirect kiss on its end, and sat down next to him. 

He grabbed the pack, and opened it. Hector had already finished a few out of this, he could tell. He didn’t care.

Hector so rarely smoked, if he wanted this whole pack Capochin wouldn’t stop him, but he would quietly worry.

He didn't even think they were allowed to smoke here…

He lit himself a fresh one, and sat there quietly with him. Hector finished the one he was working on, and snuffed its end on the metal, the butt falling down through the holes.

He looked away from Capochin, but he could still see the tears in his eyes.

The urge to busy his hands filled him. He fiddled with his phone, not wanting to turn it back on. Hector just set it in his lap.

“Sorry I shoulda asked- I just…” Hector kept his eyes towards the sprawling ground, so far above it. His heart pounded as his fingers twitched, shame lining each word that came out of his mouth.

“I’m…trying…to get stuff set up for us. So you don’t have to worry about it- and I’m sorry it's going so slow-” 

Hector wheezed a bit, coughing a bit more into his hand. He played it off by running his fingers over his face and tucking his hair behind his ear.

He curled up his legs a bit, “I want to figure things out, but places don’t want-” He was trying to not cry, especially as Capochin looked forward while he smoked his own cigarette very slowly.

It was almost like he was still trying to get it started. Hector vaguely gestured to his own body, “A… liability-”

The way Hector’s breath hitched hurt Capochin’s soul. He hated that that was the way he was seeing himself-

He stayed quiet, until Hector’s fists suddenly clenched. He growled at himself, smacking both onto his forehead as he put his head in his hands.

The noise of his palms smacking himself made Capochin's eyebrows raise in concern.

“And I wanna get you outta here- and I want a better place for you- and the only reason this place takes us is cause it takes ANYBODY who doesn’t report the rats-”

His fingers gripped his hair, as he curled up tighter at his back’s expense. He was trembling at this point, so angry with himself. 

This was stupid, he was being stupid, he should just go pray to Mitternacht or Thespius and they’d definitely make something divinely line up for him! But he felt he didn’t deserve to do what he did and get treated for it! 

He had to earn it, but trying to earn it hurt when he was bringing Capochin into the crossfire!

It hurt…so badly to feel like he was stifling or even ruining Capochin’s life by being a part of it.

“-and I dragged you into this mess, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” Hector quietly babbled to himself, gripping his hair so tight, nails starting to dig into his scalp.

Capochin should be somewhere far better.

Somewhere stable, and safe, and clean-

Hector felt a hand pet the back of his head, so softly. It made his grip loosen as he looked up. Capochin took the cigarette from his mouth, once more, and let some smoke flow from the sides of his lips.

He offered it to Hector, who had to let his hair go to accept it. 

Capochin didn’t always have the words to make things better, he knew that much. What he did have was two hands and care in his patchwork heart still burning.

Hector took another puff, letting the nicotine encourage and guide his breathing. Not something he wanted to get into the habit of needing, but helpful in that moment.

Capochin put his arm around Hector’s back, and said to him with a rasp of a tired voice. “Hey, if this is you dragging me, you shoulda seen me run to ya.” He held up his hand and rolled his eyes, as if gesturing to the vague "this" that represented their life.

His feet never moved faster that day. He knew his feet would move just as fast today. 

Hector was his life once, and now he was a good part of it. Even if he smells bad and steals his chips.

He’d always run to him.

He rubbed Hector’s back, letting him nurse the cigarette a little longer. “It’s gonna be okay, Hector. This ain’t about ta be the rest of our lives…”

The articles would still be published. The earth would still ponder. The heavens would still mourn.

But this would not be the rest of their lives.

“This is just…a bumpy time. We’ve survived being broke and stupid before, now we have just a little more money and a little more know-how.” That made Hector sigh a bit, as the smoke played with his hair.

He still wanted to cry, Capochin could tell.

So Capochin kept rubbing his back, and grabbed the mail. He handed one important looking letter to Hector, already opened.

“We, ah…we got this, I figured you’d want to see it. Might help.”

Hector held the cigarette on the side of his mouth, taking the object out of the envelope. Probably a letter from Patty or Godpoke trying in vain to get one of them out of this little slump of theirs with some kind of nonsense that’d give him a sad laugh. 

What he pulled out was an advertisement for a realtor. “Cove-side Fix ‘Em Ups! Cheap Homes into Sweet Homes!” 

Hector’s few tears left blinked down as he read the inside, details about credit score and histories were irrelevant.

This was someone who would set them up with a home…no questions asked. No judgement. All they had to do was practically build it.

“...Cappy- are…are you sure? Do you want to do that with me?” Hector spoke around the cigarette, taking it out and holding it loosely between two of his sore fingers.

Capochin smiled, and snatched it to take another hit. Another indirect kiss filling him with ambition. “It’s a big project, but nothing we can’t handle. Anythin’ with you is betta than anywhere else.”

Hector felt more tears try to brim, and couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his arms around Capochin so he wouldn’t see. He could still feel Hector’s shakiness, his fears and his worries.

All dripping over him like oil.

He flicked the cigarette down, little flashes of embers falling down the fire escape grates. “Ouhhh sweetie…I’m happy to have ya…” He used his free hand to pet Hector’s hair as that sentence made him squeeze him harder.

His shoulders shook as he tried to hide the volume of his sobs, not even knowing his body could give him away. That sharp breathing that the cigarettes made sting.

Capochin put the cigarette back onto the crook of his lip to hug him back and kept brushing down Hector's hair, playing with it softly.

All Capochin could say was something that he always took such wisdom from. Something that meant the world in times of uncertainty. When he was surprised to know what to say.

“...We’ll work it out, okay?”

Chapter Text

Hector and Capochin knew it was time. They counted out their budget, made a list, and shook hands on it.

It was time to go to the grocery store, and they wanted to try and get in and out of the large supermarket before dark so they could cozy up with a quick, easy meal.

They were happy to be able to stream their shows, but both knew they’d fall asleep in the middle of it if this grocery trip ran long.

That’s one of the fun parts of being older, they figured.

“Now, let’s try and keep it real. I had just put in half of our bills, and then I’ll pay up the rest after seeing how much this is.” Capochin grabbed a shopping cart, playfully poking Hector on the side.

“As long as we stick to da list!” He punctuated that with a wave of their small piece of paper. 

“Iiiii make no promises.” Hector giggled, walking ahead as Capochin rolled his eyes at him. A few things on the list were Doctor-Recommended Items for Hector’s health.

Things like icy-hot patches, a different type of anti-inflammatory, stuff like that. They even recommended him compression socks!

He did poorly on his last visit, much to his chagrin, and even walked out of it with a brand new cane. 

He was still getting used to it, and at least he liked the color. He chose a bright red number, and even if it took both his and Capochin’s minds to get it to the right height, it was comfortable enough.

He just had to get used to actually using it.

He figured the best place to give it the test was the store!

Capochin leaned on the cart, and watched him practice with it. “Switch legs, Cherie.”

“RIGHT-” Hector paused, adjusted himself, and made sure his cane was alternating with his farther foot. It did help take pressure off his legs, he had to admit that much.

Capochin unfolded the list. “Okay…let’s see here…”

Capochin read what they wrote, and pointed to Hector to give him a direction. “Go grab us a bag of spinach, I’m making lasagna this week.” 

Hector put on a puzzled look, “You put spinach in the lasagna??” Capochin smacked him on the back, not wanting to hear it, “And you eat three pieces each time I do! Hop to it!”

Hector stuck his tongue out in playful disgust, rolling his eyes as Capochin gathered a few heads of garlic. 

“Here’s your devil lettuce.” Hector joked as he plopped the bag of spinach into the cart, making Capochin roll his eyes as well,

“I’ll need some for real if you keep this up.” He said frankly, pushing the cart forward.

Hector snorted and laughed as he followed, making sure he was walking correctly with his cane.

Capochin smiled as they walked further into the store, watching Hector run his fingers over the preserved roses as they made their way to the dry goods. They both sighed lovingly, making small mental notes.

Several boxes of pasta went into the cart, a mini-rant about store bought sauce fell out of Capochin’s mouth as he selected his favorite brand of tomato paste.

“I like making my own sauce ‘cause I can control the spices so much betta, and you can tell, can’tcha, honey? It’s like night 'n day and I can’t go back to it, I tell ya-” 

Hector nodded along, only half-listening to him as he leaned a little forward on his cane as he bent to look at the different flavors of barbecue sauce. He grabbed one that looked not too spicy and tossed it in the cart, clinking next to their giant bottle of ketchup that was made to last them three months. 

At least it would if Hector didn't grab giant bowls of it when he sat down to eat so “I won't havta get up to get more!”

Capochin tells him each time he does that kinda thing, “I’d get up ta get ya more!” but he keeps doing it just to have so much of it end up in the sink. What a waste of ketchup!

Capochin looked at the sauce, and looked up at him “Dat wasn’t on the list.” Hector shrugged and said, “I’m pretty sure we ran out a few days ago.”

Capochin rolled his eyes at him, and wiggled the list, “That's why this thing’s on the fridge all week! Write that shit on it when you’re out! So we can stick ta it!”

Hector giggled, walking ahead without agreeing to that statement. The two of them made their way further into the store, gathering more and more groceries. 

As Hector smacked a pack of pork chops into the cart, Capochin groaned, “Ah, forgot tomatoes. Cherie, can you go grab five beefsteak tomatoes? The Big Ones.” 

Hector gave him a smile, and nodded with a thumbs up. “One sec!” 

Hector made his way back to the produce, looking towards the floor to make sure he was using his cane correctly. 

He grabbed a produce bag, and approached the giant box of tomatoes. If there was one thing he did dislike about having the cane was that it busied his hand up.

He leaned it against the side of the tomato crate and tried to open the bag. 

It was all flat and he turned it over three times when the arrow was unclear which end was the top.

His fingers twitched with pain at the attempt to get it open, and he sighed, not wanting to deal with it. He draped it over his arm and grabbed seven good looking tomatoes into his arms.

They didn't fit in two hands so he held them firm with his arms crossed over his chest, walking back to the cart slowly to make sure he didn't drop them.

“Cappyyyyy!!” Hector approached, gesturing for him to take the bag, “Help, please-” Capochin rolled his eyes, taking the bag.

“Only needed five, goober.” He used both hands to rub the bag like he was warming his hands, and fluffed it open for Hector to drop them in.

“I got the best lookin’ ones! And I can bet the tip of my tail that if I didn't get extra, you’d need the extra and gripe about it like a nastypants.” Hector argued, pointing up to make his case.

Capochin shook his head at him, as he spun the bag and tied it. “Would not.”

“Would too.”

Capochin gave him a pout, placed the tomatoes into the baby seat and kept walking, Hector following with a giggle.

The two of them continued their shopping with a relative mundanity. Grabbing what they needed. Feet moving across the expanse of the store, definitely getting their steps in for the day as they moved from aisle to aisle.

Building their cart up more and more with the things they needed. Coffee. Bread. Oatmeal. Pancake Mix. Breadcrumbs. A lot of little things.

Capochin loved Hector dearly, he really did, he was the light of his life. That didn’t stop his eye from twitching each time an impulsive thing smacked into the cart.

He tried to be open about it, since Hector did earn plenty of money from his remote job, a few extra snacks wouldn’t hurt. It was just a little obnoxious.

It was okay to be a little obnoxious.

A bag of mini-donuts, sure. “I like snacking on those too, but get the plain chocolate, the double chocolates too much- YEAH IT IS-”

A box of chocolate-caramel rice snack cakes, alright, “I can’t take ya shopping when ya hungry, can I?” The answer was a cheery “Nope!”

Two bags of unique flavors of potato chips. “You ain’t gonna like those, but I dunno, what do I know, we usedta dip chips in peanut butter to get our protein for da day.”

The one thing that got him to speak up once more was when they were grabbing their dairy products.

Capochin was selecting the least pulpy looking bottle of “no pulp, my ass” orange juice while Hector was tasked with grabbing “Calcium butter, not the plain one.” 

In one hand was the requested butter. The other, a package of cookie dough.

“Put. Dat. Back.” He practically ordered Hector, who put his hands on his hips, “Why?? It’s only three dollars!” 

Capochin took it out of the cart, and held it like it was rotten. “What do ya need shitty store-bought cookie dough for when I am perfectly capable of making you homemade cookies?!”

Hector grabbed it, crossing his arms and shifting his legs, “These are peanut butter though!!” 

“Do we have flour at home? Eggs? Peanut butter?” Capochin listed with ticks of his fingers, and Hector hummed, “We do still need to grab the eggs-”

Capochin cut him off, “Then ya don’t need that, I make a better damn peanut butter cookie than Chef Doughfaceboy over there and you know that's a fact-”

Hector huffed dramatically, moving to put it back, “Fine, was just tryna save ya the effort-” 

“You can put it back if you like crusty, over-crunchy yucky store bought shit more than my baking, that’s an option too. I don’t have to make you them-” 

Hector shook his head with a blush, “No no no-” He waved both hands in an X formation, making it clear which choice he wanted to make.

Capochin smirked, knowing Hector would choose a soft baked-with-love cookie over anything any day, “Good boy, now get the eggs while I find the orange juice that doesn't make our teeth cringe and die. Chop to it!”

Hector rolled his eyes, smiling softly at him, “Yes sir.” to get Capochin to blush back as he kept looking.

Hector grabbed the eggs, a small thing of milk and they finally moved away from the food. 

They went to the health and beauty side of the store to collect things like medicine and shampoo.

There they grabbed Hector’s new compression socks, a box of a higher dose of anti-inflammatory medication, a box of icy hot patches, and-

“This pillow is so, cute-” Hector said, voice wavering just a touch as he grabbed a throw pillow off a display endcap.

Capochin was about to gripe, saying it's not on the list, but he watched Hector squeeze it to his chest like it was a teddy. “It’d go- good- on that porch swing you wanna get-” 

He looked at Capochin with pleading eyes, and he saw it said “Bless this Mess.” in a cute embroidered cursive font. 

Cob fucking dammit this man was too cute for him, it ate away at the patches of his heart.

“...Fine, toss it in.” 

Hector laughed a little breathy thing as he did as told, before settling into taking a deep one. He walked with Capochin, holding onto the side of the cart as they kept walking forward to stay out of people’s way.

“Are…are we about done?” Hector asked with a short deep breath, and Capochin read the list. “Close, just want to stop by the clearance aisle and gotta grab some WD-40 for the bathroom door.”

Hector gave another sigh, making Capochin realize his posture had been changing for the past couple minutes. He was tilting his body as if trying to avoid bending his back a certain way.

“Why, you alright?”

Hector let go of the cart and waved his hand down, “Oh yeah yeah! Just-” He rubbed his back, grabbing at his spine, “Just squeezy, a bit. Feelin’ stiff 'n knotted-” 

Capochin hummed, a little worried, “We’re almost there and you can head to the van while we check out, just don't forget to give me the card.”

Hector went ahead and pulled out his wallet and handed the specific card to Capochin, who placed it in his own wallet.

“Can…can I lean on the cart for a bit?” Hector asked a little timidly, and Capochin was surprised with himself for not offering it in the first place.

“Oh sure, sure, here Cherie-” He stepped aside and let Hector place his arms on the handle. He huffed a big sigh as he pushed it ahead, using it to stretch and arch his back.

He walked ahead with Capochin, putting his head down with a sigh of relief from it taking a bit of pressure off his legs.

Capochin looked at him, a bit concerned with how heavy that sigh was, and truly processed him. The way he slowly walked, and the way he crossed his arms over the cart and huffed once more as they made their way to the clearance section.

It wasn’t until Hector reached over to grab a box of likely expired reduced-price chocolate-covered cherries that Capochin realized what was missing.

“...Heckity, where’d ya cane go??” 

Hector’s eyes widened and he looked down like it had fallen out of his back pocket or something.

He groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ughhhhh of course, I have no idea where it could be-!” Hector admitted, not recalling where in the store it could've possibly wound up.

Capochin waved his hands down, “There has to be a lost ‘n found in this store, let me go ask-” 

He left Hector to lean on the cart, and went back into the health and beauty department. He saw a worker actively checking out a customer at their little stand, giving them the total for a box of press on nails.

He approached and interrupted, “Hey, do you guys have a lost and found?” 

He startled the worker, feeling a minor guilt for it. They took some cash from the customer and popped open their till, thinking as they collected the change.

“Well there's the customer service desk by the automotive section. You can try there.” 

Capochin grumbled a bit, since that was a ways away, but figured it was worth a shot. “Alrighty thanks.” He spoke curtly as he made his way back to Hector, who looked lost in thought.

Or solely focusing on his growing pain. Either or.

Capochin grabbed the cart by the front and gave it a tug, snapping him out of it with a little “Eep!” as he was jerked ahead. 

Capochin let go, giving him a little “Sorry, sorry-” He pointed towards the other end of the store, “Our best bet is by where the tire stuff is, so we’re headin’ that way.”

Hector nodded, and the two of them walked so slowly to the customer service window. 

Hector recalled what his doctor told him, as he shuffled his feet, about how his body acted like thirty years of strain (combined with strain before said thirty years) had slammed into him all at once.

He was keen to believe it as his leg twitched in pain just from the barely aided act of “walking to the other side of the store.”

When he used to kick down doors, wade through intense flood water, and thanks to that adrenaline, run marathon level miles in a day to vacate flooded buildings.

It explained it.

Things change with time, and bodies can change in an instant if life decrees it, and Hector was working on making sure with himself that he knew it was okay.

So he needed that cane at the very least. So he could make sure he was okay.

He and Capochin approached the desk together, seeing another customer service rep counting lighters from behind their area.

“Hello, sorry this register is only for returns I cannot check you out here-” They spoke automatically as if having to say that multiple times a day. 

“Ah no no, sweetheart we ain’t here to check out-” Hector waved his hand down, properly getting the worker’s attention.

He put his hands together and asked them directly. “Do you have a lost ‘n found here? Lookin’ for a red cane.”

The worker hummed, and held up a finger. “Let me see-” They turned around, going through a flappy door and Capochin could’ve sworn he heard the tap of texting as they waited for a few minutes.

Then silence, and they came right back. 

“It doesn’t look like we have it here. You’re free to check at the desk in the front, they might be more likely to have lost items.”

Capochin blinked, and went to gripe, “Did ya even-” Hector put his hand on his shoulder, “Ah, alrighty we’ll give there a look-see too, thank you!” The two of them took their cart and made their way out.

“Cherie, they didn’t even pretend to look-”

“It’s fine, I didn’t wanna cause a fuss with a teenager, Shoe-”

“They looked like twenty-four-”

“It’s fine, I don't want to make a fuss-”

The two of them went to the front of the store, and by that point Hector was truly feeling the exhaustion in his back.

An uncomfortable warmth was waving over him and he was so ready to be done with this shopping trip. But that cane cost forty dollars, he needed to get it back.

He puffed a deep breath when he realized the customer service at the front was past the point of sale, so Capochin went up to the supervisor of self-checkout and had to leave their merchandise with them.

Which meant Hector didn’t have anything to lean on.

Hector tried to make it look like walking wasn’t causing him a growing intensity of pain by keeping one hand firm on his hip. He was too aware of how he may look, despite looking completely fine on the outside, trying to stand very straight.

He didn’t want to look like a cartoonishly old man clutching his back as he wobbled forward, he was barely sixty. It didn't stop him from feeling like it, though.

Capochin, seeing this stiff walk of his, merely grabbed and held his other hand, giving it a squeeze as they got in line. There were several people in line getting through their own customer service problems. 

Capochin kept glancing at Hector, worried for him as he observed the little uncomfortable dance he did. From shifting his feet to using his tail to press onto different spots of his back as if it would redirect the pain.

He huffed a sigh, moving to cross his arms as they listened to a man try really hard to convince this worker who definitely didn’t get paid enough that “this TV was definitely the one originally in this box!” until eventually being turned away.

Hector rolled his eyes hearing that, tail swiftly swishing down when the pressure only worsened it.

Then it was a woman complaining about “My chips didn’t ring up for two dollars!” and the answer was, “Did you buy two? It’s buy two get them for two dollars-” and they watched her grumble off and leave.

Hector took a deep breath, now putting both hands on his hips. Tapping his foot, growing a touch pale. Capochin mumbled to him, “Do you- Do you wanna go to the van, pie?”

Hector shook his head, through gritted teeth “It’s good, It’s all good, they’ll have it, we’ll check out, and I’ll be fine-” He muttered back, waiting for the last customer to be tended to.

He rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots trying to keep his mind off of it as it all started to burn. 

The two of them sighed to themselves when the customer right in front of them took a whole twenty-five minutes hunting for their receipt to return a box of cereal.

They didn't even find the receipt. The worker could scan the box and find it on their computer to process the return.

Capochin blinked, almost offended, thinking to himself “Couldn't you have done that fifteen minutes ago-”

Hector took a sharp breath when the two of them finally got their turn with the worker's time. He leaned on the counter, giving the worker a little smile as Capochin put a hand gingerly on his back to indicate they were together.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” The worker, another young-adult with many facial piercings and a tired look in his eye, looked right through them just trying to get through the day.

Hector felt that energy, that was his life too when he was a sprig in the workforce. 

All he had to do was be patient!

“Hi there, young man! We're- ah- seeing if we can hunt through the lost and found?” Hector shifted feet again, as Capochin ran his hand up his back.

He reached over and took Capochin’s hand off of him, since he was starting to feel even more warm and didn’t want him to feel him grow sweaty. 

The worker hummed, “They don't allow us people behind the desk to physically go through it. What are you huntin' for?”

Hector gave them a strained smile, “A red cane? With a black handle.” He added, hoping it'd help. 

“Oh, I hadn’t seen one of those turn up today.” The man told them straight up, and it made Hector blink in worry, tail twitching.

Capochin’s brow twitched, as he asked, “Can ya check anyways?” 

The man looked down at Capochin, and back up to Hector, giving a little shrug, “I don’t think it’ll be there but sure, gimme a sec.” He turned into a room behind them.

His tone made Capochin huff as Hector shifted again, putting both hands on the counter and lashing his tail more. He tapped the top of his foot hard on the floor, sighing.

This kid better be quick, because seeing his dear grow more and more uncomfortable was starting to piss Capochin off.

The boy disappeared for another five minutes and returned empty handed.

“No dice?” Hector asked, and the man shook his head, “You may need to go check the desk by the automotive section, or we have one more spot where lost things tend to wind up near electronics. That’s really all I can do for ya-”

Hector straightened, asking with a strained voice, “We just came from dere- and dats so far-" He hissed a short breath, trying so hard to stay patient.

"Is-is there a way we can- check? The camera or something? That’d be- perfect-”

The young man thought for a moment, “I don’t think they’d let us take up time like that, they’re always busy on those cameras. It’s either at the other desks or still on the floor. You could try retracing your steps? Have you tried that, sir? Looking back where you shopped today?”

Capochin could almost laugh at the tone, talking to Hector like he was an old man who didn’t know what he was doing. It rubbed him the wrong way. 

Hector, ever trying to be pleasant, gripped the counter with such a thin-lipped smile. “Look, no, I…can’t, do that. Is there anythin…else…”

He paused, awkwardly mid-syllable when the young man suddenly became shakily double, and his brain halted, an odd cold feeling waving up his face and through his eyes.

Oh, that was not good-

“Mmm-” His vision swam at the peak of the pain, and Capochin only noticed when his shaking legs went to buckle, overtaken by weakness.

“Oh, Hector!!” Capochin wrapped his arm around his side, immediately supporting Hector as his head spun, dizziness shaking him about. 

Hector stumbled backwards, trying so hard to maintain posture despite the sudden lightheadedness.

“Oooohhh…” he groaned, not doing a very good job of it as he slumped forward a bit.

“C’mere c’mere, c'mon-” Capochin turned and walked him out of line, trying to look around for a chair. There were no benches or seats anywhere close to the front of the store.

“Uhhh…uhmmm…ah-” Capochin worriedly looked around as Hector shook in his arms, groaning further as gravity was trying hard to send him to the ground.

Capochin hated this store so much right now. He saw a cash register not in use with an empty slot where bags were likely supposed to go. There weren't any pokey bits, so it was perfect for a makeshift chair.

He walked Hector to it and sat him down. Hector’s head lolled back, and he winced in pain from the uncomfortable seat.

“You feelin’ okay, Heckity?” Capochin asked, putting a hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze.

“Dere’ssss so many- spots here-” Hector stared off into space, as if his eyes were following something only he could see.

He put his fingers to his face, mumbling over his words and breathing shallowly, “All bright like…like Mm-Mama’s junebugs…”

Capochin ran his hand across the small of his back and pushed him forward a little too quickly. “Okay that settles that, head between your knees-” He spoke while getting him there.

That motion made Hector hiccup and cover his mouth with his hand, a small “erp!” squeaking out of him. Capochin rubbed up and down his back, with eyebrows raised.

He was absolutely terrified at the thought of Hector puking in public thanks to this pain. It’s made him throw up before, but he knew Hector would never let himself live it down if he did it in front of families exiting with their baskets full of groceries.

He looked back to that desk, and saw the man take another customer and sparing them a few concerned glances, but otherwise not doing anything.

It made Capochin’s blood boil as he slipped back into a mindset he thought he’d leave behind. 

“...hang tight, Cherie Pie.” He gave him a pat on the head, as he turned and stormed back.

The young man watched him approach, fists down at his side.

“Did ah…did you need anything else? We have some water in the back-” He tried to offer, but Capochin smacked his hands on the counter and gave the worker the evilest eye he could muster.

"What I’m gonna need you to do is get the drain to work and help me find my partner’s cane!”  He hollered, rageful barking boss coming back like a beast.

He banged his fist on the counter, puffing his chest and his tail as he spoke, “I know youse guys have this PA intercom bullshit whatever, and I need you to grab that fuckin’ phone and start calling around for it!” He pointed to the white phone behind them, anger lacing each word.

“-because I am not forcing my darling to take another step in the state your store’s uncaring attitude left him in!”

He gestured over to poor hunched-over Hector, who was busy taking deep breaths and trying to not pass out. He was holding the side of his stomach with one hand and his chest with the other, heart fluttering not helping his growing nausea.

“If I do it’s going to be right out that door and Squaremart is not going to see another cent of our money ever again!! And if you don’t want to find it, I sure as drain will be happy to talk to your supervisor and find someone who will, because this is ridiculous!” Capochin waved his hand down, before smacking his fist back down thinking about this worker’s attitude. 

“We spent almost fifty fucking minutes standing in dat line just for you to treat him like he’s some dumb old coot who doesn’t know what retracing his steps is? When he's in pain?" Capochin pinched his fingers and tapped them against his temple, because it was so baffling to him.

"Well, Piercings, I’ll give this store AND you old coot if I have to take him to the emergency room for his heart because of this, so help me Mitternacht I will raise Drain like I ain’t ever left it!! That ain’t no bluff, not one bit!!” His fingers pointed back at him, waving his hands animatedly for the health of his beloved.

As Capochin continued his rant, another person got in line, watching the conversation awkwardly. 

“I don’t know what’s so complicated about it! It’s a red cane! A simple red cane, it shouldn’t be hard to find! Like seriously, parading us all around this damn store just to find-”

The person behind him chirped, “Oh you’re lookin’ for a red cane?” Capochin paused, turning his head with rage still in his eyes.

There was a woman holding a bag of groceries in one hand, and the other…was Hector’s cane. 

“OH!” Capochin gasped as she handed it to him. “Where was it?” He had to ask, eyes softening at the kind woman.

The lady held up her bag, which was full of just tomatoes. “Oh, slotted right on the tomato crate, got caught in the grooves.”

Capochin thought about it, and the bag he opened himself. “OHHHHH-” He held it to his chest and gave the lady a smile, attitude changing in a flash.

“Well, thank you, ma’am, that’s very good to know! I’ll get this back to him-” He looked at the worker, who was still holding the intercom, having not yet made the announcement that he needed a supervisor immediately.

“Ah- well, go ahead 'n cancel all that. This was still ridiculous, but I'd rather get him home than stay here and try and get some sort of compensation for our troubles. Sooooo…” 

Capochin turned and scampered off, leaving the worker and woman a little confused. The worker didn’t get paid enough, and continued on. 

Capochin ran back to Hector, and put a hand on his shoulder. “How’s it goin’, cherie?” He gave it a little rub, talking gently.

Hector squeaked, not wanting to straighten as he sucked a harsh breath through his teeth “...bad…” He ran his hands through his hair, still so hot and sweaty. 

“I know, sweetie, I know…” Capochin rubbed his back again, and moved the cane into his blurred vision.

“Ohhh?” Hector hummed, grabbing the cane and straightening a bit. He gave him a puzzled look.

“Ya left it in the produce section, goober. I'm gonna get you one of them straps to make it stay around your wrist so dis don't happen again.”

Hector blinked, vision still a little altered, and just went “....oohhhh…” as if it made all the sense in the world.

“Wanna go to the van, hun?” He asked, his tone a stark contrast to the shouting of before, so soft and patient. Hector gave a little nod, pressing the cane into the floor.

“I’ll get our stuff paid for and meet you there, okay?” Capochin reached into his pocket and handed Hector the keys. “You alright to get in there and get the air on yourself?”

“...should be-” Hector tried to stand and take a step with the cane, but immediately threw up in his mouth again and stumbled. He squeaked, holding his hand firm over his mouth.

Capochin yelped, and hovered his arms around him, so ready to catch him. He gently grabbed Hector’s elbow on the opposite side he had the cane at, “Ohhhkay, I trust in you but I’ll walk with ya, alright? And I’ll come back in to get our stuffs-” 

Hector swallowed and nodded, a burning still squeezing all around him. Thirty years of strain definitely left its mark, but Capochin walking with him to their close parking space made him think about how those thirty years had been made easier thanks to him. 

He appreciated it, so much, to be held so dear. He couldn't ask for better support.

One step at a time, in rhythm with the cane, they crossed to the second disabled slot in the parking lot.

Hector unlocked the van and swiftly took a seat. He gave Capochin the keys, so he could start it and put the AC on full blast.

Hector sighed in relief, reclining the soft seat and closing his eyes. He felt something press onto his cheek, and opened one eye to see Capochin planting a firm kiss onto him. “Mmmmwah!” 

Hector smiled a little, holding the cane to his chest and closing them right back, “...Thanks for stickin’ up for me, Cappy.” He spoke softly, smile still twitching with pain.

Capochin thought back to his yelling, and how it didn’t really go much of anywhere, but shrugged regardless. He’d always fight so ferociously for Hector, he knew that much.

He was happy to forever be the curt “oh my gods why are you so mean” voice to Hector’s soft “I’m trying so hard to keep everything under control” voice. 

“...Always, Hector.” He gave him a second kiss, and a pat on the chest. “I’ll be right back, you stay cool, okay?”

“Okie, birdie, I on it...” Hector gave him a shaky, tired, weak thumbs up, as Capochin closed the door to rush back to their cart before their cold stuff got warm.

Hector heavily sighed, the pain still twinging around his back and growing and pressing all around his tailbone and legs. He wondered if it’d be possible to take a dose of that medicine when Capochin came out with it…

...ah he shouldn't on an empty stomach with nothin’ to drink…

He should’ve asked Capochin for a sports drink-

Inside, Capochin was grabbing him one anyways, unbeknownst to him. His favorite flavor, and it was ice cold too. A candy bar as well, one of those caramel nutty ones he likes that Capochin can't stand the texture of.

He grabbed himself a diet root beer while the cashier scanned their items, bagging them slow and poorly. He didn’t say anything about it.

All of Hector’s impulse buys were making the bill much higher than they anticipated, but Capochin didn’t comment on it.

There were several things actually on the list that went forgotten, he’d find that out when they got home.

“Leave dat green apple drink out, if ya could. Candy too. Bag the root beer.”

“There you go!” The obvious teenager did as told as they pressed a button on the machine they manned, and tapped the card reader, forgetting to tell him the total.

Capochin didn’t care, he could see it. “That’s all for ya?” They asked as Capochin placed Hector's snack next to their softer goods.

Capochin blinked at the total, and shook his head. Seeing Hector safe and happy was worth every cent and every embarrassing scenario.

He wanted each little extra thing to bring him joy, and hoped these new items would aid his health.

He hoped Hector would like the drink and treat he chose for him. He wanted him to feel better immediately but knew that would likely only happen once they’re home and he can lay on the couch.

He shook his head, and answered the child’s question. “Ah yeah, yeah kiddo that’s all.”

With a flick of the wrist, he swiped their credit card to end another week’s shopping trip. 

Until the next one, at least.

Chapter Text

It was almost ten o’clock at night when Capochin finally got home after a long day of scrubbing hotel rooms in one of the cruddiest casinos in the Drain.

He had a coworker drop him off on the opposite side of the apartment complex saying he had a thing to take care of at the main office. Mail to grab, things like that.

He likes his coworkers but he’s still wary enough to not want them to know where he lives.

That sense of hypervigilance had yet to fully leave him.

He didn't know if they’d try to follow him inside for some reason, so he’d rather walk a bit to get home, even if it was dark. Just to feel a little safer.

All he wanted to do was get home to eat, anyways.

He held a bag of greasy fast food with a single large drink, and smiled as he walked to the door. 

Capochin grabbed his key from his pocket, and unlocked the door with just a bit of difficulty thanks to the crusty old lock. 

The door of the crusty little first story apartment he lived in squeaked as he opened it. He hissed as he tried to step in slower.

He had to be quiet. He was always wary of coming home, but now he enjoys coming home. There were more things there that brought him joy, after all. 

Frankly, that was the reason he was being silent.

He did see that Hector’s van was there, so he knew one of those reasons to smile was home! 

Ah, but it was late. He must be in bed…

He knew when Hector had to work these eight am to near seven pm shifts he tended to get home and conk straight out.

Though, the lights were on. He could see a few tufts of hair sticking out from the side of the couch. He wondered if he fell asleep there, he'd have to get him up to kick him off, so he could sleep in his comfortable bed.

Capochin locked the door behind him, and hummed.

He approached the couch and saw Hector was laying on it. Eyes glazed over a bit as he was watching TV. A cartoon movie was playing, but it seemed like he wasn’t getting any of the details. 

That was mainly because Capochin looked down at the floor and saw three tall cans that all read “Raspberry Lemonade Malt Beverage, 8% ABV!”

It made him place his tall soda on the table in order to investigate.

He reached down and lifted all three of them, giving them a little wiggle shake.

They were all empty. Hector had likely only been home for about three hours since today was his own late shift, so…

Capochin gave him a little smile, and grabbed one of the cans. “Started without me?” He joked, tapping Hector’s forehead with the still cold can.

“hhAUH!” Hector startled, turning his head and trying to twist to sit up a bit. He failed and plopped heavily over. His vision focused and he saw Capochin almost giggling at him.

“Ohhhh Hi there!!! Hi there Capochin hi you’re home!!” Hector’s energy completely flipped seeing Capochin’s face.

“Capochin…capochin…cappy…” Hector grinned at him, shifting his legs to and fro, rubbing his feet on the couch as if they were numb. “Did you know… ” 

Hector trailed off for a moment, grabbing onto the couch to get more comfortable and settling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling.

“Did did ya know that Tami is a fucking bitch??” Hector blurted all with the same smile, making Capochin grip his takeout bag in alarm, eyebrows raised.

The amount of restraint it took for him to not burst out laughing was immense. 

He did not know Hector had that in him-

So all Capochin could do was smile ear to ear and ask, “Oh no, what’d Tami do?”

Hector took a deep, harsh breath as he sighed, “SO-” 

Capochin crossed his legs, leaned on the couch and listened. “SO SO-You know I do all of da inventory, and you know sometimes I stock n face- n sometimes I check-” So Tami is one of his coworkers at the auto-supply store, he’s following that much.

“WELL- they decided I do- such a good job- that I could also handle the cashier’s moneys and get them money and all that-” Hector waved his hand up, before grabbing his hair and using both hands to run his fingers through it.

He tried, anyways, his hair was very tangled, 

“I was TRYIN’ to Face up da bolts- and- Tami- well uh-well- she’s never on her register, she's a cashier, but she always runs off and talks to the mechanics and flirts with em or whatever-” 

Capochin’s attempt to keep a straight face as he listened to his dear friend’s slurred stammered tone was failing him just a bit, but he just kept nodding along.

Hector tugged at his hair, moving to press onto his numbed face, “Girl comes up behind me and poked me!! Poked me on da side of my TUMMY like we’re FRIENDS!!” He ran his hand down his cheek, the tingly sensation barely keeping him together.

“And she scared me soooo bad I almost fell- and den I just go, “HI THERE-” and she’s just like, she asks me for ones on her register- and then i get them for her and she don't even use em all so i'm like HI-?? Hi there?? You got a thought in your head???" He blinked, shaking his head just a bit,

"Gah- fuckin- hhhi there- hi there ‘ fuckin poking me-like, like ya ain’t got some cobdamn clackin’ work tado- Hiiii- ” He huffed, covering his eyes and trying to take a few deep breaths,

“Shhhhnot like Daniel or Shanna’d do anything about her- just- goin around-bein a bother pokin’ people…just like hi…hi there, fuckin…hi…hhh…” He groaned, rubbing his tired eyes as he stretched and cussed, all still to Capochin’s surprise.

He couldn’t believe people would up and disregard Hector’s boundaries like that…

Capochin, not at all knowing how to unpack Hector’s frustration, chose to try and distract him from it. If he could make him a little happy, maybe the frustration wouldn’t be so bad…

“...so is “Hi There” like, your favorite phrase now?” 

That made Hector blink a few times. “Ah…ahhh hi? I'm saying hi too much-” He pressed on his cheek, rubbing his eye a bit more, “It’s just- it's all silly, I don't- it's a thing I say whens I don't know what else to say- Yous got things like that- cause you’re a good Capo-”

Capochin nodded, and opened his fast food bag. “Well, I don't know about all that, but I did think about what you may want if you happened to be up.” 

Hector’s eyes lit up and he hefted himself onto his knees when Capochin produced a double cheeseburger from the bag.

Hector immediately took it in his hands. “I got the feeling you hadn’t eaten before you started, hm?”

Hector’s little blinks at the burger said it all as he processed what he was holding.

“Oh Thamk you - such a good Cappy you’re such a good- better than- that fuckin’...girl-” Hector held it up, and immediately fell back to laying down the other direction on the couch, with little giggles.

Capochin merely sat down and took out his own box of chicken nuggets. 

He huffed, and saw they had forgotten his tangy BBQ sauce. Measly ketchup packets would have to do.

He pulled out a large fry, intending to split it with Hector as he gave him another glance. He had placed the burger on his chest and was breathing a few short breaths right through his mouth as he stared at their splotchy ceiling.

The tiredness in his eyes was almost palpable. Capochin knew he needed to act just a bit more for him.

Capochin grabbed his soda and shook it in Hector’s direction. The sound of sloshing ice got Hector’s attention with a small startle.

“Drink something, Hec.” He spoke firmly, holding the drink out to him.

Hector looked up, took the soda even though Capochin would not let him grab the whole cup and took a few big gulps from the straw. 

“I’ll get you some water-” Capochin offered as he made Hector come up for air, taking his soda back. He gave his knee a pat, putting all his food on the coffee table.

Capochin stood and asked, “Do you want anythin’ else?”

Hector looked at him with eyes half open, and put his hand on his cheek. He hiccuped, a small burp coming out before any words, “We should…we should make s’mores-” 

Capochin wasn't sure if he should laugh, or be concerned a frustrating day at work has Hector this tipsy.

He chose to just raise an eyebrow and ask him with a small smile. “You want a s’more?”

Hector closed his eyes and leaned his head back, waving his hand lazily as he shifted his feet against the couch again. “S’mores for us…or… or grapes…grapes 'n smores- orrrr one more lemonade?” 

He definitely wasn’t getting that last one, but Capochin could humor him.

“So you’re hungry?” Capochin asked, and Hector gave a slow tired nod. “Look down, bud. Just look down.” 

Hector hummed, opened his eyes and looked down, focusing once more. “OH RIGHT- BURGIE-” Hector plucked the warm burger off his chest and smiled at it, holding it up like he had collected an item in a video game.

Capochin rolled his eyes, getting Hector the glass of water while he tore into the paper, taking a big bite.

Capochin smiled watching him eat, and it was clear Hector was enjoying it with the happy squeaks he let out.

He placed the glass of water next to him on the table. He reached into the bag and pulled out a few greasy napkins to give to Hector, who was currently getting condiments all over his work shirt.

“Thank you- thank you- you’re too nice you’re so nice-so good so good…” Hector smiled at him as he used it to hazily clean up, and Capochin merely gave a smile and a shrug about it. 

On the inside? It made him absolutely glow. He could tell this was helping him feel just a little bit better. 

The two of them ate and drank in relative quiet as the TV played old re-runs, with the only noise being Hector occasionally hiccuping and giggling as he pressed on his nose.

He would just give himself little boops, before putting his hand down like it was made of lead.

The food definitely helped settle his energy, but once wrappers were collected and healthier drinks were drunk, Capochin could tell his friend’s night was done.

He went back to staring at the TV, dozing with little sniffles. 

As a sitcom laugh-tracked played its course, Hector kept falling asleep into his hand just to keep pushing himself up as if he was trying to fight the sleep for some unknown reason.

Capochin stuffed his chicken nugget box deeper into the bag, and gave Hector a nudge. “C’mon buddy, get up and go get in bed.” 

“Mmmbbb-” Hector mumbled tiredly, but did as told. He shifted and stood way too quickly. Like he hadn't stood at all in between drinks. He immediately stumbled and flopped back down.

Capochin startled as Hector held his knees, “Whoa, you need some help gettin’ there, Hec?”

Hector shook his head, and gave him a dopey little smile, “I gots it, I gots it-” He got up again, and held the wall as he stumbled off to his room. 

Capochin heard his door open and shut, giving a sigh. He opted to tidy up, since Hector made a tiny mess of his living area.

He grabbed Hector’s cans, and read the label again. It did look like a pretty tasty drink…

Capochin gathered all of the trash into the fast food bag, and brought it to the kitchen. He shoved it all into the trash can, then turned to open the fridge in curiosity.

If they had barbecue sauce in here and he sat there squirting hot ketchup on each nugget, he'd be miffed.

Instead, he saw three more malt lemonades still in the grocery bag, one had fallen over like a hand hurriedly bumped into it.

He wasn’t about to judge Hector’s habits.

Hector wasn’t the one who could have a bad day and stand outside as he burned through an entire pack of cigarettes. Hector didn't cry guilty tears about it when he had to ask for money for more.

Hector had his habits, and he kept them managed. He just didn't want to see them go too far.

He could only hope that Hector would pace himself. He didn't want to see his health spiral, he cared about Hector too much for that.

Capochin thought about his work schedule, and reached out to grab one of the cans. He could join Hector in the feeling of floaty numbness, he figured it could be a fun way to end his own night. 

It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

As his finger pressed on the can’s tab, trying to get the stubborn thing under his nail, he heard a smack of a THUD-

Immediately the can was put back in the fridge, smacking it shut with his tail as he sped off in concern.

He opened Hector’s door, not even thinking about knocking.

“Hector? Are you-?” He looked down, and saw Hector had managed to get himself into a nightshirt with sweatpants…but was dozing on the floor, head against his pile of laundry he had yet to do.

“Hec…” Capochin sighed, as he bent over and shook his shoulder. “C’mon, you wanna be in bed? Comfy bed?”

Hector groaned, and opened his eyes, “Mmm up m up…up for work- be...be dere in a sec...” Capochin grabbed his hand and helped him sit up.

His head kept dozing forward, in a way Capochin did find adorable.

“I don’t need ya to go to work, Hec, I need ya to go to bed-” Capochin gestured to the bed Hector had missed by a mere foot. It was like he bumped into the frame and fell right over. 

Hector raised a finger, tilting his head. “Is that causeeee you’re the best Cappy ever?” Hector asked, as Capochin helped him stand just for him to flop into bed. 

“I still don’t know about that-” He went to call him Hec again, but wondered if that sounded odd. He kept calling him Cappy…

He got Hector under the covers, and tucked him in to the best of his ability. Hector freed his hand and grabbed Capochin by the sleeve of his flannel.

“Cappyyy cappy-” Hector blinked, green eyes watery just a bit from the long day he clearly had. 

With this hold, Capochin sat down on Hector’s bed to be more comfortable.

“Yeah?” Capochin asked, as he plucked Hector’s glasses from his face and folded them with his bed as leverage.

“Since...since youse my friend...I’d let you poke me in the tummy if I was on a steppy stool…you could 'n I wouldn't even be mad...Only you, though...” 

Capochin couldn't help but finally let out a snort, freeing his hand to pet Hector on the head. “Sure, sure Heckity, sure. I’ll ah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said with a blush and little smile.

Hector’s eyes lit up one more time. “HECKITY? Ohhh ohhh that's cute, that's so cute- I like that I like it- I like it a lot- ” Hector pressed his head into his pillow, beaming and giggling.

Capochin’s eyebrows raised as he blushed more, “Oh- you do?”

“I dooo I dooo that's why you’re the cutest Cappy ever, so cute, such cute my friendddd my friend Cappy!! Oh, I am soooo bl-ehessed- ” Hector waved his hands out, before rubbing them together and giving a few little claps.

Capochin absolutely hated that a frustrating day at work got Hector this tipsy, but somewhere in the deepest part of his soul he was a little twistedly glad to be with him in this state.

He was the blessed one to be so trusted in this scenario, especially by someone like Hector.

“Well then, Heckity, I’ll use it more.” Hector groggily cheered at that, both hands up and then immediately pressed onto his face as he stretched and yawned. “As long as you get some sleep, shake this off, okay?”

Hector let out a groan at the end of his yawn, and hummed as he smacked his lips. “Mmmm already eepin, den…will da eepin...wills make ya happy?”

Capochin patted his head again, as he put his glasses on his nightstand. “Seeing you rested will make me happy, yes.”

“Den I’mmm on it Cappy. On it likeeee meee…onnn da bedd…” Hector mumbled as he dozed back off, and Capochin smiled as he sighed. 

He slid off of Hector’s bed, and made his way to the door. He opened it, but before he could leave he heard Hector’s tired voice one more time.

“Cappyyyy?” he breathed in another yawn.

“Yeah?”

Hector mumbled, squeaking one more little hiccup. “Mmmhm...love you, friend…”

Capochin’s face burned hotter, smile not faltering one bit as it widened. He scratched the back of his head as he replied far too quickly, “Love ya too, pal! Sleep tight, don’t let them bed bugs bite! Night!” 

He left the room and shut Hector’s door before he could get a reply. There he pressed his back to the door and slid to the floor, covering his face as he squealed in joy. 

How his hands shook at the idea of being loved, and the love his friend could give him was more love than he's had in his whole life…

To Capochin…it was damn near intoxicating.

He’d fight each and everything that made Hector’s life worthy of getting that tipsy, but he’d hope to grow into a friendship where they could get drunk on nights like this together.

And babble inanities late into the night over board games and junk food.

Forever in the wobbly blanket of friendship.

Chapter Text

It was a sleepy, frigid winter afternoon.

For Hector and Capochin both, Winter was probably their least favorite season. It had some GREAT holidays, but everything else sucked.

Sure, they were built to weather the cold, but their brains weren’t one bit.

They could handle freezing rain and knew how to safely traverse ice but the days growing shorter and weather shifting so rapidly only brought them physical pain and emotional unsteadiness.

It was like something was in the air. It made little things incredibly difficult at times. 

Hector's legs would ache. Capochin’s fingers would lock.

Hector would forget his head if it wasn't thankfully reattached to his shoulders.

Capochin would huff and groan and snap at the most minor inconvenience.

Life continues to truck along: and Capochin decided now, in the throes of winter, was the perfect time to try and quit cigarettes.

It wasn’t the first time he tried. Far from it. He’d make the mental note, try for a week, and go right back to it.

The motivation to even try was usually fueled by a nasty cough, which loved to grip him in the winter time via evil colds. 

Because as he’s been told multiple times by his doctors: smoking will literally make any illness messing with his airway ten thousand times worse. 

Smoking will just make it worse no matter what. There was a time in his life where he’d shrug and think he deserved the pain for being stupid.

But now he has Hector.

He absolutely hated seeing Hector fuss over him as he’d clutch his aching ribs, making sure all of them were in place after getting wracked by a tidal wave of a fit.

Making sure he was comfortable in bed, keeping their bedroom so very warm when he’d shiver. Helping him drink hot tea with a generous amount of honey.

It was a dreadful week for him, it always took him so long to heal… because of the smoking-

He recently pulled through it, but the image of his love's face contorted in worry that a cough would up and pop his lungs left an afterimage in his mind. 

It hurt so badly to see Hector worry over his decisions.

So he tried to make better ones.

Like clockwork, it always started when he’d toss his cigarettes into a random old desk drawer, and decided to try cold turkey once more.

He'd try so hard.

Even if it hurts. Even if it made things difficult. Even if-

He’d burn his hand trying to make himself some tea to warm up, on day three without one. 

All because he went and grabbed under the handle of the kettle instead of over, in an autopilot haze.

Curses hissed from between his teeth as he ran his hand under cold water, falling into shaky deep breaths filled with barely repressed anger.

He held the edge of the sink once the burning ebbed away, but the damage was done. 

The fire was stoked and he had nothing to regulate and put it out.

He paced around the kitchen, stomping. He shoved the kettle off the heat with a slam and forcefully turned off the heat. The dial was turned so quick he almost snapped it off the old oven.

He kept pacing, breathing way too hard for such a small burn. It just made the fire hotter.

He’s literally had worse. He has been through worse! He didn’t know why his heart was racing so bad and why anger gripped his brain in a vice. 

It was no help that sleep could hardly find him the previous night.

In the height of a deep breath, a pang of dizziness tried to trip him. It nearly sent him to the tile floor over a small burn from tea.

Despite everything screaming at him, he decided he wasn’t about to sit through this. The anger was too hot, it was like a cattle prod was lodged in his skull. 

He needed to get away. He needed something-

Don’t-

He shook his head and with lightning in his eyes he stormed out of the kitchen. Each stomp sent a spike of pain down his heart and soul.

It hurt so badly in parts of his brain he couldn’t even describe. Each muscle ached and he didn’t know what in drain to do about it.

Except slam his feet down to show how deep the frustration went.

Don’t-

Capochin didn’t even see Hector’s head pipe up from the couch when he passed by him, not even giving him a passing glance. 

He rushed to Hector’s little home office like he was on a mission. He pulled his desk apart as if hunting for a thing to do. Work that needs to be done.

Something that needed to be taken care of.

However, he knew what he was after.

Don’t-

Capochin left the workspace, stuffing something in his pocket.

He crossed his way through the living room, passing the couch where Hector sat comfortably watching TV.

He saw Capochin’s posture and tilted his head, but all Capochin said was; “I’m getting some air-” as he made for the exit despite not wearing a jacket.

He practically ran out, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the entire frame.

It was snowing outside.

Don’t-

Capochin plopped himself on the first stair of their porch, and didn’t even process the snow falling down around him. Made him see his breath.

Little flurries coating their van in a way that’d annoy him in the morning. It was slated to freeze their doors, surely.

He couldn’t possibly care.

All he could vaguely barely focus on was his hands shaking as he put his head into them.

Don’t-

When he felt the cold of the air settle over him, his body began to shake in tandem, and he needed to warm up. Pain bloomed in his head like a thundercloud was above it.

Anger made him groan as he rapidly bounced his leg. 

He didn't want to sit through this. He needed relief.

Even temporary. Even for a single minute.

Would it be worth it? Is this worth it?

Don't-

So he fished in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. 

He opened them, plucked one out and twiddled it around his fingers. A practiced motion he tended to do while breathing through the last of another.

His lighter was still settled inside the pack, waiting.

Waiting for him.

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

He didn’t listen to himself, wanting the trembling to stop more than anything. He needed to calm down, to be warm, to get that short little buzz that always helped him think a little clearly.

That was why he burned his hand, after all. Just because of a twinge of blurred vision moving too quickly.

It could’ve been from the cigarettes or just his contacts not liking him, but either way it burned.

Either way it was so hard to focus. It drove him absolutely batty.

He needed to fix it and he needed to fix it now-

Don’t you do it you impulsive idiot, go back inside and scream into a pillow- don’t- don't don't DON'T-

Capochin put it in his mouth, falling into the comfortable familiar.

He grabbed the lighter, and with that same practiced method he struck it in one go. It had a very small flame from the weather around.

He cupped the flame so the cold air wouldn't make the flame go out as he lit the cigarette.

It didn't take long for the smoke to rise, and his mind screamed at him for it.

Three days.

This attempt lasted barely three whole days.

The disappointment poured over him as he breathed in the smoke. It filled his aching lungs and slowly his shaking improved.

He blew it out, watching as the smoke flew around and mixed with the snow. It was oddly beautiful, at least the snow was, but all Capochin could think of was how bad this cigarette was making him feel. 

It was helping him physically but emotionally the thundercloud still struck him with violent lightning.

All he could do was look down, glowering at the tip of the cigarette like it would put it out as he actively smoked it.

He made no moves to put it out, and just kept going. 

He hated it. He hated that it was making his pain feel a little better.

Not even by much, which made him even more angry with it.

Even more angry…with himself.

His promises are all out of the window. He was such a damn hypocrite and liar, how could he come out here and just: fail again like this-

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and deeply exhaled, “Oh…Capochin…” He mumbled to himself, putting his head in his hand as he studied the way the embers glew despite the cold.

“What a sham you set up for yourself-”

He did not want to cry about it. He knew he didn't deserve to.

So he just huffed in anger, bouncing his leg anxiously as he slowly worked through the cigarette. “Can’t believe you…fucking stupid… stupid- ” he scolded himself-

As he mumbled, he heard the front door open. He quieted immediately.

He didn’t need to turn around to see Hector was stepping outside with his blanket around his shoulders.

Capochin didn’t even startle as he took a spot next to him, he just curled up deeper into his shame.

Hector looked out towards the snow, and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. 

Silence draped over the two of them like the pause waiting for the snow to start barreling down the mountain. 

Until Hector looked between him and the cigarette, and decided to test his approach.

“Brr! Nose-biter tonight, it looks like! And you’re out here in Cappy-ris!” Hector joked, but Capochin merely took a long drag of the cigarette. He didn't want to look Hector in the eye.

He hated it each time he broke this promise, but the hhhssssss- of his inhale still remained.

Hector watched him not even crack a little smile at him, and scooted a little closer. Giving him quiet candid permission to snag some blanket if he so wished.

Capochin didn’t. 

He didn’t want to get ash on it.

“...Everything ah…okay? You alright?” Hector asked, voice mumbly as if he worried the question was redundant. 

Capochin took the cigarette out of his mouth and held it in between two fingers, looking at his hand where he had touched the kettle. It hardly left any mark, just an invisible sensation of lingering discomfort.

Like everything that’s wrong with him. Invisible.

It infuriated him, to have his will and focus toppled by such a little thing. To be bound and connected so heavily to little sticks that made him smell like a fire hazard-

He didn’t know how to answer Hector’s question, heart racing with the fury of burning guilt.

So he gripped his palm, and squished the cigarette a bit as he seethed out a sob.

He smacked his wrist onto his forehead, it turning into a growl as he refused to let real tears come out. 

“Oh Cappy!” Hector braved the cold to put a hand on his shoulder, but Capochin tensing more made him remove it patiently.

“Talk about it, Capo. That’s what we agreed on with this-”

Capochin could only throw his head back a little, groaning angrily about it as he choked out, “Well OBVIOUSLY I’m not very- good at this!” He held out the cigarette before taking another drag to his own hatred of the situation.

Hector merely blinked in shock, and it was an invitation for Capochin to go straight to ranting.

“I feel like shit, today, alright?! Everything fucking hurts, and I hardly slept last night-” He shook his head, pulling up his legs to rock a bit back and forth, tail rapidly thumping against the wood of the porch.

“-and I forgot my meds and figured waiting until tomorrow to take my next dose would be a good idea but it makes it all hurt fucking worse- I got a headache the size of Bauhauzzo’s stupidass forehead-” He accented that by harshly smacking his forehead, not noticing the flinch it elicited,

“-and I’m pissed off because I couldn’t even make us some fucking tea properly and-and I...” He glanced back and saw Hector simply listening patiently.

Looking at him with eyes so soft and worried…exactly what made him feel such a way in the first place.

Capochin’s gaze immediately went back to the floor, the snow slowly gathering on the bottom of the porch.

“...and…I broke the promise again. That’d I’d be better…that’d I’d be...good, and that I’d try for you…” His breathing wavered, and he cleared his aching throat before taking one more puff.

“...I can’t even do that right. Terrible of me, eh? Each time I try I crack in a week…Not even a week, like some kind of stupid impulsive slug-” He sighed, shaking his head.

“I…I’m sorry, Heckity…you must think I’m being such a loser about it…Nothing but…weak…”

Capochin startled when he was met with a faint slug to the arm. He gave Hector a bewildered look, as he was holding up two fists and making small punch motions like he was playing a video game.

He tapped his arm again, like he was punching a punching bag.

He looked up and down at his dear, who simply said, “Ya talkin trash?” He threw an air punch again, tapping Capochin’s arm once more.

“How would ya put it? Ya talkin shit ? About my husband??” 

Hector scooted closer, punching softly all over his arm, making Capochin scoot back with a hesitant smile.

“Hey-” He put up his hands, and before he could react any further Hector pounced on him, taking him into his arms to lightly punch all over him.

He took his wrists and yanked him into his lap to continue his barrage. “No talking crap about my husband!! My hardworking lovely husband deserves NOTHING but kind words to him at ALL TIMES!!” 

Capochin squealed in surprise, dropping the cigarette to be extinguished into the snow as Hector bapped him all over, even in his tickle spots. He made sure he was secure in the blanket, smacking him all over and hugging him.

“Gotta love him! And speak so sweetly about him! Because he’s so gutsy and brave and doing something incredibly hard and taxing on his body!!” 

Capochin snorted, even though the embrace did little to help all the aches that patterned down his body.

“And he’s doing it even if it sucks! Because eventually it may make him feel better, and healthier! You don’t get to go around callin’ my husband weak when he’s being soooo incredibly strong!” Hector planted a kiss on the top of his head, warming him up in the blanket by rubbing it against his arms. 

Hector smiled down at him, eyes sparkling in determined joy.

“...that’s still so fun to say. Husband. You are my strong-ass husband and I couldn’t be more proud of you for trying, you know?”

Capochin chuckled, shaking his head, “I could try harder-” His voice was hoarse, and Hector simply rubbed his shoulder. “I think how hard you’re trying is perfect as long as you keep going. That’s all ya can really do, y’know? It’s all that matters-”

Capochin sniffed, hugging Hector back and letting him rub down his back. “Withdrawl kicks my ass too hard. It’s hard to not give to my cravings, could you beat those up too?”

Hector kept planting little smooches on his head lightly, hugging him tighter. “I could try but it might hurt you more than you’re already hurtin’, birdie…” 

Capochin groaned at the answer, but smiled just a little at the kisses.

Hector kept giving him the comforting touch, and told him gently, “I can’t beat ‘em up but you know I’ll be here for ya through each ugly little symptom you face. That’ll always be the case. I’ll beat those up for ya.”

Capochin looked up at him, raising an eyebrow as he cuddled closer, letting Hector tuck him closer into the blanket. “All of em?” 

Hector closed his eyes and nodded deeply, “Each and every one.” Capochin grabbed the end of his hair, and thought about it.

“Even when I get so angry I slam shit and have to take five extra years to calm myself down?”

“I’ll do what I can to help ya chill! We can go into the bedroom and wrestle pillows!”

“...Even when the jitters make me toss and turn at night? Leaving me with like: no sleep?”

“Already picturing ya resting on the couch while I get ya a blanket and something to snack on!”

“Even if it gives me the shakes so hard I throw up? The shaking is one of my worst ones to get-”

“Ohhh, I’ll get you plenty of water and sit with you the whole time until it steadies!”

“Even if the irritation leaves me wheezing on the kitchen floor?”

“Even when I stress out and binge all of your oreos?”

“Even if my body aches take over my brain and ruin any plans we have?”

“Even if I bitch at you for like a half hour if you startle me?”

“Even if sitting through a single movie is impossible because of my pacing?”

“Even if I can’t focus and burn dinner? Multiple fuckin’ times?”

“Even if I smoke again and don’t even end up actually fully quitting for good?”

Hector grabbed his cheek, and rubbed away the small tear that formed at the side of his eye in the rant. “Capochin, there’s nothing that’ll keep me from seeing you through each and every one of those things. Until the very end.”

Capochin took a short breath, and muttered, “You’re too good to me-” 

Hector smiled at him, so softly it hurt. He wanted to be clean to see him not have to worry about him each time he got sick.

In general, he wanted it to be so Hector wouldn’t have to hunker at his side and help him make sure each rib was okay with how harsh the coughs could be on him.

He was getting older. He needed to look out for his health.

So his husband… didn’t have to drop it all to do it for him.

Even if he would. Because that priest told them and they were sure to both say “I do” to his humble words: “In sickness and wellness, in joy and in sorrow; do you promise to hold one another dear through drought or flood? Through every trial and tribulation and struggle of change?”

And because Hector loved him, so very much.

He didn’t want him to have to: but he’d take all the support he could get. 

Hector simply kept rubbing his cheek, as the flame of the cigarette dwindled away with the falling snow all around them. “You’re too good for me, Cappy. I’m just tryin’ to do my best for you-”

“It’s way more than I could ask for…” Capochin sighed, and Hector leaned in to give him a long kiss on the lips.

The kiss didn't last long, thanks to Capochin immediately choking trying to breathe through the smooch.

He pulled away, coughing down so he wouldn’t spit in Hector’s face. He covered his mouth, wheezing and coughing with pained productivity. 

Hector, good on his word, sat with him and briskly patted his back. Cold air flowed as the blanket shifted, making both of them start shivering.

Capochin shook his head, and spoke with such a harsh voice, “Gah- damn in the drain that smarts-”

Hector merely took his hands, “C’mon, honey. Up we go-” Hector carefully stood on the stairs, blanket coming with him.

Capochin coughed more as Hector helped him up, giving him the entire blanket. He draped it over his shoulders, patting them as he guided him back to the front door.

“Let’s get you inside and I’ll make us some hot cocoa for that throat, hm?”

Capochin’s hand hovered above his mouth as he nodded, “The kettles- being a bitch-” He tried to speak, voice failing him as he coughed more.

Hector shrugged, taking him into the warmth. “I’ll use a pot.”

Capochin looked up at Hector as he led him to the couch to rest. He sat him down and oh so kindly encouraged him to lay down.

He did as gently encouraged, the hacking reminding him of what caused this quit attempt in the first place.

Wintertime was always hard on the two of them, but as Capochin laid on the couch with half-lidded eyes…watching Hector’s favorite game show, the one with the wheel and trying to guess the prices of things…

He could hear Hector hiss and groan in his own winter aches as he made his ass some hot chocolate to make him feel better.

For being strong…for being weak…

He felt nothing but pure love there, on that couch. He’d feel it in the hot chocolate with a generous helping of adoration in its rich goodness.

He’d feel it all the rest of the time as well.

Capochin knew he would. He knew it deep down. He’d keep trying. 

All for the one struggling to open cocoa packets in the other room for him. To see him happy, to see him proud, to see him able to see him healthy…

Well, as healthy as he could be. His lungs were already hurt from the damn near fifty years of smoking.

There’s no better time to try and quit than that moment, he’d keep trying.

He’d keep trying…

Hector handed him the chocolate, them both sporting large holiday themed mugs with a giant mountain of whipped cream on both. Capochin smiled, as Hector sat with him and let him keep the blanket.

They watched the TV together, as Capochin laid and rested. 

Capochin took a ginger sip of the chocolate when he was certain a cough wouldn't send the cream flying.

It was poorly mixed, but he could tell Hector added a small splash of cold milk so it wouldn’t be too hot for him.

It was delicious. He loved him so much. He loved his husband so much…

He’d keep trying, he’d always keep trying…to be better.

For him.

Forever.

Chapter Text

It was around ten o’clock in the afternoon.

Hector was on his left, already curled up asleep. Capochin smiled at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead before going back to his book.

There were a lot of things he and Hector had to agree to disagree on. It was a simple part of having a better relationship. Disagreements and compromises.

Especially in such cases of routine and health as they grew older. 

Hector thought reading before bed was boring as sin, Capochin didn’t mind a few chapters at night to try and keep his old mind sharp.

Capochin would tease him about reading but Hector would merely roll his eyes. “I love to read, but if I read I wanna do it outside on a nice day when I’m alert, not when I’m nodding off over the pages.”

Capochin turned the page, thinking of that and thinking of how he simply teased him further, getting himself whapped on the head. “You know my meds conk me out anyways!” 

Capochin knew that very well, given how Hector slept breathing through his mouth, arm tucked under his pillow. He was genuinely surprised Hector wasn't snoring, just a touch of drool running from his mouth.

It made him think about everything else they had opposite opinions on.

A big one was diet soda, but that one was mostly for Capochin’s health. A change he made when he was still Inspekta.

Capochin still can’t get him to switch for convenience, which annoyed him. They’d constantly debate on which version of sweetener tasted the best and neither could agree.

Pickles was a big one too. For a good long while they both hated them, but when Hector descended his taste buds went through a major change.

Now there’s a jar in their fridge and Capochin teases him each time he opens it.

Sitcoms were another thing that sparked debate. Capochin enjoyed them ironically while Hector found himself enthralled in their plots.

While Capochin would snort and laugh at the canned laughter at the lamest of jokes and Hector would curl up on the couch with a blanket and genuinely enjoy. 

Capochin found it adorable.

That went together with game-shows but Capochin did have a lot of fun watching game shows with him. Trying to race each other to the wrong answer.

He had more fun doing that than actually watching the show.

Capochin struggled to think of more, before very deeply remembering caramel- He can’t stand the flavor or texture of it. It was just clumpy burnt sugar at its core, but he takes Hector to the grocery store and lo and behold there’s a caramel candy bar in his hand.

Even in their freezer they have caramel drumstick ice cream cones.

Oh, and cheesecake! Capochin loves every kind of cheesecake under the sun but Hector can’t stand the mouthfeel of it in any form it takes. Occasionally he can get him to eat it in ice cream, but he knows better than to buy any large tub of it.

Capochin hummed to himself, realizing a lot of their opposite opinions had to do with food. 

He figured they agreed on a lot of concepts. Which made since, they've known each other a long time, they were pretty synced in those regards.

He smiled as he closed his book, setting it on their nightstand. Next to Hector’s charging phone, which was playing white noise that sounded like a fan.

There were things they disagreed on like that but Capochin understood them, at least. Capochin used to enjoy hiking, but Hector sighed at the idea simply because of his legs.

Now neither of them liked it. That happens when you start getting older, things change.

Preferences and opinions change.

Capochin took off his glasses, hiding them in the drawer where the book should’ve gone. An odd force of habit.

(That was another thing, contacts versus glasses, but Capochin hates touching his eyes too. He’d just rather do it than admit to his friends his vision is going as well.)

He turned off the lamp, and snuggled into the blanket with a content sigh. 

He tried to begin to drift off, breathing gentle as he turned towards the sleeping Hector. He loved him so much, he couldn’t think of anything they disagreed on that went beyond silly little squabbles about matters of taste.

What else could get him riled…?

Then, without missing a beat, Hector grabbed him to snuggle him, wrapping his legs around his.

Capochin’s sleepiness was immediately shaken awake by how cold he was- and that was the big difference. The big opposite-

He gasped, as his dear’s cold hands and feet touched around his hot torso, seeping warmth all around him. It was like hopping into a pool at the start of summer.

“Sssss- Hector-” Capochin groaned at him, trying to push him off but once he had him he had him-

Hector was already pulling him to his chest, settling his head on his and sighing contently.

Capochin wiggled a bit, but tensed more when Hector’s hands wandered under his tank top, grabbing around his back to snuggle him deeper.

“Auhhh-” Capochin groaned, resigning to fate until his body readjusted to the change of temperature.

He hugged Hector back, and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He tried to breathe through each twinge of cold and cramp it gave him. 

He felt Hector’s head nuzzle the top of his own, and it gave him a little smile as he got so very comfortable.

“Glad you’re cozy at least-” he mumbled, as he ran a finger across Hector’s shoulder blade. It made Hector snort, and hold him even tighter.

Capochin closed his eyes again, as Hector’s cold hands and feet mixed with his hot body and face.

Hot and cold, strawberry and chocolate, cheesecake or no cheesecake, cool ranch vs nacho cheese...

Capochin knew they had many differences.

Even if mixing the warmth and the chill can brew a major storm, trying to cause arguments between the two of them.

They know now that it's petty, and petty can be fun. If it’s a harmless little squabble, they can weather it until they shrug, enjoy what they love and see the rainbow on the other side.

Capochin tugged their blanket over Hector a little more, making sure he was warm. 

Hector rubbed Capochin’s back, eventually evenly cooling his sweaty body.

It became temperate.

It was perfect.

Chapter Text

Hector and Capochin knew they couldn't live in this van.

The seats just barely protected them from the odd cosmic heat that waved from the inner seats that once housed the God Complex. 

Capochin scrolled on his phone, hunting and price matching. Trying to figure SOMETHING out…

Hector was turned away from him, seat slightly reclined. He was clutching his stomach, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to keep resting after the first day trying to sleep like that.

Capochin could see in the window's reflection his face was scrunched in a nauseous pain. 

He had several new wrinkles and a lot more grey hairs than the previous night. Time was waving over him so fast, and shaping him accordingly.

It worried Capochin, so greatly.

He looked back down at his phone, searching a little harder for his sake.

“Ah!” He sighed a small noise of glee, tapped another part of the screen and held his phone to his ear as he made a call.

“...Hi there! Just ah…do you have walk-in availability?...Wonderful, okay we'll be there in thirty.”

Capochin tossed his phone on the dash, and started the van, getting some air blowing on Hector.

Hector groaned, curling up tighter. Capochin wanted to reach over and pet the back of his head, or do anything to soothe him but he didn't want to startle him. 

So he whispered to himself, “...Hang tight, Heckity…”

He shifted the vans gears, and drove deeper into Hobbyhoo, trying to make it quick.

The deeper parts of Hobbyhoo weren’t as bright as Thespius’s festival area. A small show into show business the grove had cooking, letting just a bit of shadow flow into its holy reserves. 

It felt like proper Earth, in a way. Capochin pulled them into a shady spot, stopping the van and taking a deep breath. This parking space was thankfully semi close to the front door.

He finally reached over and shook Hector’s shoulder, waking him with a start. 

“HCK-” Hector blinked his eyes open, moving to sit up in alarm but fatigue pulled him back into his seat. Capochin was already getting out of the van, coming around and opening Hector’s side. 

“Cappy-?” Hector spoke soft, still sounding beat. “Where…where are we…?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand, and Capochin merely took the other to help him out of the van.

“Hopefully, a better spot ta rest-” was all the explanation he gave him.

He held his hand so gently as he walked him into the tall building. Hector was a little spaced out, his focus pulled to a painful tightness in his lower back.

He felt Capochin squeeze his hand and rub his thumb over his fingers as he slowly dragged him to a desk. 

A woman was typing away on a computer as he waved her over. She smiled at them, a perfect customer service smile Hector recognized before his gaze settled on some random papers as the pain warped around.

Capochin took the lead, “We’re here about the walk-in, I called?” 

Hector remained zoned out as Capochin and the woman talked about logistics. As he handed her two cards.

As he kept giving and giving for him.

Hector didn’t need to hear it, he just wanted to sit. He didn’t want to wander away from Capochin though.

So he waited, and all he focused on was the ache of his back.

“Euh…third floor-” Capochin read the key he was handed, as he started walking Hector towards a nearby elevator. Hector mindlessly pressed the button, and it did nothing.

The lady at the desk called over. “Oh! So sorry, the elevator’s busted! The stairs are through that door-” She pointed, and it made Hector shoot back to reality.

Oh gods help them, stairs-

Capochin was making a livid face, shaking his head, “I am not making you climb three flights of stairs, Hector- Should we go somewhere else?”

Hector blinked, and looked at Capochin. He had already paid in advance for like, a week. He couldn’t make him fight for a refund and then find him another place to rest-

Capochin also needed a rest, he wanted to give him one-

So Hector swallowed his pain, and shook his head, “Awh no, it’s alright, Cappy. Let’s just get settled-”

He made his way towards the stairs, and Capochin merely watched with a concerned expression. “Oh- okay- but if you need to pause on the way up, let me know!”

Hector gave a shaky smile as they both started ascending the stairs. It was going well at first, Hector holding onto the rail and Capochin trying to stay on the same level as him. Hector did have longer legs so he ascended just a little faster. 

The pain gripped his sides, and his legs yelled at him as the first flight whizzed by.

“What’s…our room…number?” Hector asked, a bit out of breath as he and Capochin both paused on the first floor, leaning against the door of the next set of stairs.

Capochin sighed a deep breath, and read the card. “304-3E.” 

Hector looked at one of the room numbers, and saw it said “102-1E” in big bold numbering. He huffed at that, shaking his head.

He was already so exhausted, it was bewildering to him.

Everything was trying to catch up to him, everything hurt. He’s trying to tune it out, but it was so hard when he already felt like he ran a marathon.

Capochin tapped his fingers together, and tried to lighten the mood by saying, “At least we don’t have any bags to carry?”

Hector took that in, hated it, then proceeded to open the door to the next set of stairs and started climbing. 

“Ah, okay okay-” Capochin scrambled to follow, not wanting to get left behind.

They kept climbing and climbing, both of them falling deeper into exhaustion. Hector took the lead, stomping up the stairs without passing another glance to Capochin just to try to get up faster.

Capochin caught up to him, passing him to hold open the door to the second floor. Hector didn't even pause to breathe as he made for the third door.

“Hector, slow down-” Capochin tried to call, but Hector had already entered the stairwell.

He got pretty far up the stairwell before having to grab the rail and heave a breath. Capochin caught up to him, breathing heavy too.

He couldn’t help himself, he put his hand on the small of Hector’s back, “Take your time-”

That small gentle touch sent both a pulse of guilt and a heavy twinge of pain up Hector’s spine. He pulled away, feeling unworthy of Capochin's touch.

“I think- I just need- to sit- somewhere soft-” Hector took a deep breath, and Capochin wanted to sit on the stairs but couldn’t argue with Hector on that front.

If they sat on the stairs it’d take forever for them to get up.

In some way, they both wanted to hide, and the best place was their room.

So Capochin took Hector’s hand, and the two of them took the last few steps one at a time until they made it to the third floor.

304-3E was swiftly found, and Capochin fumbled with the key trying to unlock the door.

After a bit of jiggling that brought him back to their first apartment they had shared together, he shoved the door open. 

Hector torpidly shuffled in, and they both took in their new temporary living arrangements. A TV on one end, a couch…Hector’s eyes shot towards the bed. 

He’s not seen or been in a bed in thirty years he realized and he wanted it now- 

He started to walk towards it, but Capochin stopped him with a full protective arm swipe, “Wait- wait Hec, I’m sorry I gotta check for bugs-” Capochin put his palms together as he made his way towards the neatly made bed.

Hector looked left and right, and seethed a bit, “BUGS?”

Hector stood there and watched with angry eyes as Capochin unmade the bed and started checking all around each crease for bedbugs.

It was in his best interest but Hector was holding his hips to try to hide how intense his pain was getting. His tail was lashing and he tried so hard to quell that.

If he grabbed his tail, though, nothing would stop him from sinking his teeth into it in a bid to ease the pain.

“I’ll just- sit on- the couch-” Hector breathed, and Capochin merely called, “I have to check that too! Just hold on one second- This won’t take long-” Capochin stated, as he kept looking around the entire mattress.

Hector took a sharp breath, taking a few steps back. It was starting to overwhelm him, the entirety of his body aching.

His entire spine felt like a cracked glowstick that was leaking all over the place. Spreading the agonizing heat of pain all throughout his system, making him stand there and tremble.

Minutes passed like hours, and eventually the heat flashed across his face. So swiftly, so intensely. 

It took Hector’s breath right out his lungs, and he said in a voice so quiet yet so annoyed at the situation.

“Capochin-” He hissed through the breathlessness.

“Just one second, one more second.” Capochin tried to ease him, speaking behind him without even giving him a glance.

All Hector could say was, “If I don’t-sit down-right now- I’m gonna throw up-”

Capochin looked up and saw Hector glowering at the floor while holding his knees. A pose that spoke to him that he was not bluffing one bit-

“Almost done Hector- Almost done-” Capochin spoke fretfully as he tossed the sheets back on, adjusting the pillows and checking them as well.

Once it was a safe semblance of comfort, he went to tell Hector he could come rest. He gestured with his hand, moving to wave him over.

This time, when he looked up, Hector was already scrambling away with a gag.

He watched Hector slam into the only room that could be the bathroom, and rushed to his side. 

Hector almost tripped over his feet as he caught himself on the sides of the sink and immediately threw up into it.

He couldn't make it any closer to any other spot. 

Capochin winced as Hector coughed and hacked, bringing up the single fast food meal he barely nibbled in the van the previous night. The first night of the rest of his mortal life. 

Capochin rubbed the back of his own head, only remembering himself when Hector gasped and hung his head further. 

“Ghhh…hhh…” Hector seethed through his teeth, trying to straighten as Capochin wrapped his arms around him and turned the water on.

Bile and spit ran down the drain, and Hector kept trying to breathe. In and out, barely taking a full inhale as snot ran down his nose.

“There you go, is that it-?” Capochin tried to ask, just for Hector to heave sick again. The flowing water made it all go straight down as he got it all out.

“Oh Hector…” Capochin couldn't help but worriedly coo.

Hector merely continued to cough, until eventually nothing came back up. All he did was spit, and groan as Capochin coached him to breathe. 

Hector’s head was spinning, heart racing as he could barely make the deep breaths. 

“Take a sip of the water-” Capochin encouraged, grabbing Hector’s hand off of the death grip he had on the side and putting it under the faucet.

Hector opened his eyes, and looked at his hand and the sensation…Another one he hadn’t felt in decades. Water pouring over his warm hand…

He hadn’t had a drink of water in ages, merely small sips of Capochin’s soda that had also sent him hacking from the unfamiliarity. 

So Hector spooned the water into his mouth like he was about to wither away that moment, spooning it into his mouth with both hands as a bowl.

He drank so fast, making himself choke on it and gag once more.

He stumbled backwards, Capochin catching him and worriedly groaning in his stead.

Hector coughed into his hand, and cried a bit, “This sucks- thisss sucksss-!!” Without much eloquence in his words, ironically. Pain held no grounds for it.

Capochin guided him out of the bathroom, “C’mon, C’mon just lay down-” He walked him to the bed, and sat him down.

Hector didn't even kick off his shoes, small tears dripping from his eyes as Capochin encouraged him with a gentle shoulder push to lay down. 

“This sucks-” He coughed again with a whimper, already closing his eyes in pain.

“Is dis punishment- for King-?” He curled up, clutching his abdomen and tightly coiling his tail against his back in some attempt at self-soothing.

“Descendin'…wasn’t…but this pain…is- It has- to be-Do I- Deserve This-?”

Capochin didn’t know what to think, frankly he was trying NOT to think, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Oh shut up with that, just- just rest okay, don’t talk like that. You’ll feel betta with some sleep but I don’t- I can’t hear that from ya-” Capochin looked away from him, avoiding seeing the blink of tears welling up further into Hector’s eyes. 

Hector huffed a sob, and curled up tighter as he resigned to quiet resting. 

Capochin felt the air of tension grow thicker, and groaned. He kicked off his shoes, and reached over to tug Hector’s off for him. 

Once that was done, all he could do was take the far opposite side of the bed and lay down too. Capochin was more exhausted than he thought he’d be, as it crashed on him at once.

He laid there, sleep not even trying to find him as he thought about everything, much to his chagrin. 

That rush to the spire was still aching in his legs. The roll of his heart as the cracks of the sky tried to blind him.

The only thing his eyes snapped to was Inspekta…

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away his thoughts until he heard harsh breathing behind him. Little squeaks and shifts on the sheets. 

Capochin turned in the bed, making sure not to fall off and just looked at Hector’s back. Hector shifted, in an unsteady sleep, to laying on his back, tail wrapped around his stomach. 

Hector…who he hadn’t seen in thirty years…frantically falling from the sky as he untangled himself from his own godly skin.

The way he had to bite his tongue when he saw Hector crash into the floor of the spire and lay there.

Barely able to get himself onto his knees to mourn his actions...

No wonder he was hurting so bad…

His body was aging as if he had physically worked through the thirty years he strained as a God, without a break, without a pause, without a single breath. It was not one bit graceful.

Neither of them were sure what to do.

Capochin wondered what’d come next for them, but he’d figure it out in the morning.

They both had a lot of work to do, despite all the pain swirling around their bones and joints. He turned away from Hector, to stop looking at his dear friend in such a state.

One thing at a time…count down from a hundred and sleep…one thing at a time…

Ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-seven…

---

“Okay, I’ll be back with this in a few hours. You’re gonna be fine here by yourself?” The first thing on a long list of things to work on was self-care.

Capochin held a trashbag with their scant amounts of clothes inside. His uniform, which he switched for an old tank-top and pair of pajama pants he kept in the van. 

Hector was sitting on the couch in a robe the hotel provided. “I’m not…doing those stairs again, so yeah I have to be. I’m gonna try to…uh…” He looked down, eyes dark with exhaustion. He spent the whole night in and out of sleep due to the pain.

He still felt ill, as well, not even wanting to begin to speak about it...

Capochin supplied for him, “Make a grocery list. Start with that.” He pointed at him, having faith he could do at least that.

Hector groaned a bit, and nodded. Another thing he hadn’t really thought about in thirty years but he’d give it a crack.

“Do that, and try to get a shower. I’ll be back with clean clothes.”

Hector hummed in agreement, and Capochin left him be at he left the hotel.

He made his way to the nearest laundromat, holding his clothes tight and cash tighter. Like somebody was going to come behind him and swipe both of them.

It was a hyper-vigilance he hadn’t felt since he lived in the Drain was hovering over him. 

He took a deep breath, and lugged everything inside to get it over with.

The smell of laundry soap was so strong, he tried to ignore all the other people around him as he stood in line to turn his dollars into quarters and get a pack of detergent.

He wondered if others were talking about him, if they recognized him, they were so deep in Hobbyhoo and the story was so fresh, maybe it’d be fine.

Just tune it out…one thing at a time…

Press the button, grab your coins. 

Just tune it out…one thing at a time…

Box of soap, toss it all in the machine and turn it on. 

Wait…

Just tune it out…think about what to do…what to do…

The entire Bizzyboy name was tarnished now. Something he and Hector worked tirelessly to build, he wondered what would come of that. 

Sense cycle.

His phone had already been pinging non-stop with texts from boys quitting en-masse, probably from the Plan Group speaking about it.

Not like he could do much about it. He just muted his phone and left it on the couch before coming here. 

He just wanted to focus on one important thing at a time. First being himself and Hector.

He couldn’t let Hector spiral into a health decline. 

He couldn’t let himself spiral into uncertainty-

Both seemed to be happening.

The machine filled up with water, starting to hum and spin. 

Capochin leaned his back against it, letting it massage it and bring him some relief. He crossed his arms, closing his eyes and sighing.

Would this entail a few doctors appointments? He hasn’t been in years-

Hector hasn't been in longer-

What about home? How long could he afford that hotel room?

Or Food? Where would they keep their cold items? No cold items, he has to remember that. 

Capochin grabbed his sleeve tighter…what to do…what to do with the boys or the food or the money or their health or housing or van, what if someone recognizes it and defaces it-

Oh gods, should he go check if he still has wheels-

This isn't the Drain nobody would do that on Thespius’s watch…but the anxiety lingered.

What’s his life now? Is this is life now? Is he back to being confused and scared and always in a tizzy about something?

He always had Inspekta to look to in times like this and-

Capochin straightened his back and shoved it all to the back of his mind when the washing machine buzzed. 

The wash cycle was done. It was time to dry. It was time to keep moving. 

One thing at a time.

“Pick one thing. One thing to focus on, and hold on to what you have currently, Capochin…” He thought to himself, as they dried and spun and warmed the air around him.

He thought and thought and thought and thought…until his stomach growled.

He felt the warmth of the dryer, and decided…dinner would be the one thing he’d focus on after the laundry was done.

Then he’d figure it out as they went along. He needed to try to keep it together.

Can’t let this crack more than it has…

---

Hobbyhoo had so many takeout restaurants.

“Can I just get two orders of chicken lo mein?” 

Styrofoam containers packed tight and full.

“I can take as many forks as I want? You really don’t mind? Thank you- Thank you-”

About thirty forks tossed into the bag.

“Thank you so much, have a great day, this smells fantastic.”

Capochin got the laundry and food settled in the van, and sighed deeply.

“I hope Hector’s hungry.”

---

When Capochin ascended the stairs with the bag of laundry and bag of food, he actually found himself smiling a bit with how good the food made it smell.

It almost made the three flights bearable, but boy did he need to sit-

He tried the doorknob and it was locked. Good, just like he wanted him to do. He knocked three times, an old habit from when he’d enter the god complex without pinging first.

The door swiftly opened, and Hector immediately asked- “Did it work out?” Capochin shook his head, and started to hold out the bag.

Hector snatched it, “Oh thank the gods-” 

Capochin shook his head, following behind him. Hector’s hair was wet, flat against the back of his bathrobe. “I feel so awkward wearing this thing all day, I need these-” 

He was digging for his clothes, grabbing his pants and pulling them on under the robe. Capochin made sure to turn his head as Hector grabbed his shirt, already hearing the robe smack onto the floor in favor of it. 

Hector huffed, pulling his sweater down and adjusting it around his stomach, holding his hips. It was like he was trying to silently catch his breath over such a simple act.

It infuriated him, and reignited Capochin’s concern. 

Capochin asked as he set the food down on their complimentary coffee table, plopping himself down on the couch.

“Well, I hope you’re feeling better. I got food, you got that little grocery list made?”

Hector clapped his hands together, moving the laundry basket aside to point his hands at Capochin. “Well…no. But-!” That little but made Capochin sigh and mentally facepalm.

Hector moved to sit next to him grasping his palms. “I got a hold of your phone and found Vibiano’s number and started setting things up…” 

Capochin hummed, handing Hector some soy sauce and a fork. “What’d you guys talk about?” Capochin forgot all about how his password on his phone hadn’t changed a bit.

He didn’t mind if Hector used his phone in emergencies before, he didn’t see why he wouldn’t get to use it now until they could get him a burner.

Hector twiddled his fork between his fingers. “I asked her if in a day or two me, you and her wanted to get together and clean up Buzzhuzz Plaza. She told me it’s completely tarped up like…it’s waiting for us.”

Capochin looked down, a pulse of anxiety snaking down his core. He and Hector had to make that right, yeah, but to go back so soon…

He sighed, and told Hector, “If you’re up for it, then sure, but you still don’t look well. You’re a little pale.” He waggled his fork his way, and Hector just waved his hand down. 

“Just a little, I’ll be fine once I get going. I made promises I intend to keep. Gonna help, and gonna try to make things better.”

Capochin didn’t need to know how long it took him to take a shower, exiting it multiple times to quell dizziness and nausea from the pain. The beating of the water added to the ache. 

They were both aching, Hector could tell. He just didn’t know what to say, so they continued in silence. 

“Let’s just…get some food in us and finish resting and get on that tomorrow, yea?” Hector gave Capochin a small smile, and Capochin couldn’t help but return it.

They had to take it in stride and keep up appearances, letting themselves feel crushed in private.

“Let’s-” Hector agreed, leaning just a bit to pop the styrofoam open to dig into his food.

He looked down, and what he saw made him hold his breath. Instead of chicken smothered in sauce on a bed of noodles…there was a whole mountain of shrimp.

Hector looked at Capochin, and merely asked, “Is this one- yours?”

Capochin held his breath, knowing that to be very untrue. “No- Let’s just- You can have this one-” 

Capochin popped it open too, and saw another healthy portion of shrimp.

He hissed, and immediately tried to talk his way out of the upset, “Oh my gods those idiots gave me the wrong order or didn’t hear me- Hector, I can go back-” 

Hector closed the foam, taking care to not touch the meal. He was highly allergic, and very tired. He knew Capochin was too. 

“Y'know, it’s fine, I’m not that hungry actually-” Hector stood up, waving his hands down trying to play it off like it was no big deal.

Capochin couldn’t help but retort, “Hector, I know that ain’t true- It’s okay I can go get us somethin’ different-”

Hector ran his hands over his face, slicking back his hair and holding it at the back of his scalp. He held it just like that as he walked away.

“It’s fine, Capo. It’s fine, actually. I’m just gonna go lay back down, I’ll eat later-” 

Capochin took in those words like knives to his patchwork heart, the holes barely scabbed.

Hector stomped to bed, and got in it. Throwing the covers over himself to hide the way he curled up. 

Capochin knew he hadn’t eaten anything, there was nothing here to eat.

He had to fix this, fix something!! 

He hunted around, listening to Hector sigh softly from across the room wouldn’t break him. As much as it hurt his heart.

Hector was sick and needed to eat! It spoke to every ounce of habitual care remaining in Capochin’s soul. 

So Capochin poked around the hotel room, and found something tucked in the corner out of sight, having to tug it out so he could access it. It looked like it hadn't been touched in ages.

They DID have a mini-fridge! 

He wondered if he could ask for it to be cleared without charging his card so they could use it for personal use…he'd deal with that later.

He popped it open, seeing bottled water, bottles of juice, beer, and on the side, a couple packs of chocolate chip cookies. 

Despite knowing it was gonna cost him way too much, he grabbed the cookies and opened them. Two full size cookies, laid on top of the wrapper.

He approached Hector, and placed them on the bedside table. Hector didn’t even take off his glasses, he probably wasn’t even asleep.

He looked like he was, with his eyes shut softly, but he was likely just…thinking.

“I’m sorry, Hector. Try to eat these at the very least-” Capochin said, crinkling the plastic so Hector would hear it. 

He left him be, not much more he could do aside from sit in guilt.

Capochin sat down…and ate the shrimp lo mein by himself, making a mental note to wash up well afterwards. 

Scrubbing his hands in the sink, guilt having laced each bite. He washed up, drank water from the sink as well, and tossed the other meal away.

It was a huge waste of food he hated doing but he wasn’t about to eat it off the counter tomorrow before he could figure out the mini-fridge thing.

He had to figure out this Buzzhuzz Cleanup thing first, and then how to help with Hector’s pain- and-

One thing at a time, one thing at a time. He also had to focus on himself, and what he wanted to do going forward.

It was hard, trying to detach himself when he’s so used to being the boss and worrying about so many other things…

He sat on the couch to rest, and looked back at Hector. He saw him place the cookie down, only taking a single bite.

He knew he was hungry, but the stress oftentimes made it hard for Hector to eat. It was something that apparently had never changed. 

Capochin pinched the bridge of his nose, worried and fretful, but he couldn’t meddle. 

One thing at a time. They’ll figure it all out eventually.

One day at a time. He’d make it up to him in the morning.

He had to rest for tomorrow, so he and Hector could keep working to make the next tomorrow a smidge better. 

A one step forward, two steps back, kind of arrangement, they presumed.

It was all they could do.

Chapter Text

Hector tried to plan to meet with Vibiano to have him and Capochin help her clean-up BuzzHuzz the very next day after getting fully settled into their hotel life.

He wanted nothing more than to rush to atone for it.

He took two little nibbles of those cookies, and woke up feeling exhausted and sick as a dog. He could hardly move out of bed. Each try sent lightning bolts across his spine and he whined to himself about it.

So Capochin called, and postponed it to the next day.

The next day rolled around…Hector felt the exact same.

He managed to barely move from their bed to their couch, only shuffling over to try and eat some chips and watch free cable on their hotels' shitty television.

He ate two, and let the bag fall to the floor because of how bad the pain swirled about him.

Capochin would try to get him to eat something more substantial, he’d get cagey and then shuffle to their bathroom while clutching at his back.

Capochin could hear him, despite the water he turned on to try and hide it. He was sick. 

Every time he ate, it was like that. 

Every time Capochin tried to check on him, he’d say he just needed a rest. He refused lighter food, he refused water. 

At a point, Capochin was too tired to fuss further, despite being worried.

It was about a week until Hector told him he was tired of blowing Vibiano off. He told Capochin no matter what, or how he was feeling that morning, they were going to Buzzhuzz, and they were cleaning that statue. 

Capochin watched Hector that morning, taking ages in the bathroom. He saw the tiredness in his eyes when he exited it and wobbled to their mini-fridge to drink some ice-cold water.

Capochin didn’t say a word, if anything he was quietly dreading getting in the van and heading up there.

Both of them were stained onto that statue, mementos of their worst moments.

He had to keep trying to tell himself that their worst moments didn’t define them, but it was very hard when also watching Hector tremble and take deep breaths as he leaned against the wall and destroyed the water bottle. 

The physical consequence of half a life lived beyond.

He was already dressed, still in those yellow jeans and sweater that had only gotten a single wash since the spire. 

He huffed a haggard breath before wiping his nose on his sleeve, adjusting his glasses and asking Capochin softly,

“...You ready?”

Capochin looked through him, before grabbing the van keys. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

---

Capochin made sure to hold Hector’s hand on the stairs. The three flights made him worry a jolt of pain would send Hector falling down them all. 

Hector tried to protest but despite how hazy both of them felt, Capochin wasn’t about to lose him to overconfidence in his condition.

They took small pauses on each floor, but Hector’s grunting and persistence to keep moving was palpable. He had to move like a shark, lest he truly fall. 

So three became two: Hector pictured himself standing on the statue’s base, leaving Capochin and Vibiano behind as he elevated higher and higher above the shaking rock’s pedestal. Past all points of recognition. Past everything that mattered.

The light and stars absolutely blinding.

Two became one: Capochin latched onto the base, prayer on his lips as he begged his friend to take him with him to those galaxies beyond. To do anything to not be forgotten. To do anything for love.

As he tried to dig his hands into the stone so he wouldn’t be shaken off but it only hurt his nails with the grit beneath them.

One became zero: As Vibiano stood across from the statue waiting for them with a bucket of soapy water safe for the historical site that was tarnished to get through to their boys.

To make the point, the piece, the foot through the door to make the plan all crumble. 

An out.

The out.

The door to the lobby opened and Hector hiccuped and covered his mouth. He hunched a bit and shook, but merely swallowed. 

Capochin firmly squeezed his wrist, but didn’t even look at him. Hector straightened and took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“We’re good, we got this-” Hector choked, coughing to himself. Capochin hummed, and merely guided him out of the hotel then. 

He sure hoped so, as he led Hector to the van and let him in the passenger seat. He sat and immediately stretched, huffing and pausing mid-way through as if something jabbed his side. 

Capochin gave him a thin-lipped glance, not even a proper frown. Hector didn’t say a word, and neither did he. 

He started the car, getting a small surprised gasp straight from Hector’s body and they both willingly ignored it as they drove.

They had to work beyond themselves to fix what they wrought, this was the first step. 

Capochin drove, trying not to let any thoughts into his head except the road.

---

Buzzhuzz plaza was relatively quiet, as Capochin pulled in and parked the van at its gates. 

Hector unbuckled immediately, taking a sharp breath as he exited the van without even looking at Capochin. Capochin watched Hector brace himself and start trudging to the square. 

Capochin waited a moment, leaning against the wheel and taking a peek at the statue.

It was still tarped, but he could see the smaller statue. The statue that was meant to be the small people looking on high to their god for wisdom and love.

He could vaguely see his uniform’s sleeve poking itself out from beneath the cover.

Still looking up, when he couldn't even look at his own calloused hands to see what he was doing.

He had to smack his head against the wheel and take a deep breath. His head felt hot, as he peered up and saw Hector stumble. 

As tired as he was, he still needed him. Hector needed him. He needed Hector. 

The least he could do was make sure he doesn’t get himself hurt, so he was content to float through this and get the thing clean. Even if he had to set himself aside...

Unbuckle the seatbelt, reach into the console to grab a cigarette and light it before even stepping out, and smoke it on the way over. That was going to be his game plan.

The smoke helped ease him as he walked over to them.

Hector had already found Vibiano and Capochin clicked his tongue seeing him go from grimacing to beaming in an instant.

He was hugging onto her and swaying her to and fro, stiffening only when she briskly patted his back.

Vibiano opened her eyes from the Hector Hug and saw Capochin, waving him over. “Capo! There you are!” Vibiano let go of Hector, letting him breathe as Vibiano approached the other with a bag on her arm.

“I got two buckets filled with soapy water, I got rags, a few mops, and step-stools to make it as easy as possible for us.” 

She handed Capochin the bag, and he zipped it open to see several rags of several different sizes, vinyl gloves, and extra bottles of soap. Capochin took a big inhale of his cigarette and just went “Mmhm, looks good. Thanks, Vibiano.”

She smiled, leaving Capochin to sort that. “Hector, angel, c’mere, help me untie the tarp.” 

Hector’s lips went tight as he nodded. The two of them disappeared behind the statue, as Capochin put down the bag and started sorting the rags out.

Placing them onto the dried paint his men spilled all over the place in their moments of freedom.

Immortalized, and not to be touched by the soap and resolution.

Nothing was to be erased…except…

The tarp swished down, and Capochin looked up at it. The paint a garish hue against the statue’s poor age.

Nobody in this statue was happy. Not even the soul atop painted blue and blushy blush red as he peers over the people he was trying to take down with him.

Nobody, except the little statue clinging to the bottom. Smiling up at the sickly one atop the chaos and hoping to be taken into the ill-ridden arms that didn’t exist.

That wouldn’t exist.

That could not see him over the clouds in his eyes.

Capochin steeled a deep breath, and put the bag down to grab the first rag.

Hector and Vib folded the tarp to move it aside as they all took in the statue. Hector stared at the top, determined to grab the mop first.

He and Capochin plunged their equipment into the same bucket, bonking into each other. 

“Oops-” Hector pulled back, and Capochin simply went “Y’uck-” as he moved the wet cloth to the other hand and shook his flannel’s sleeve. 

He couldn't get mad, his sleeves were going to get wet no matter what. When he ignored the gloves.

What made him shut his brain off was Hector’s thin-lipped silence as he turned from him and smacked the mop onto the higher part of the statue, gently scrubbing.

Capochin didn’t say a word either, slowly running the cloth across the words. His words. Painted in a blue so deep it’s practically black.

The three of them circled around the statue, taking turns cleaning different parts of it. Stepping on the step stools, making the paint loosen and flow down, draining at the statue’s base. 

Vibiano moved a rag across the statue that was painted almost akin to the Milldread baker, and told Hector who was on one of the stools running his mop over his old face.

“Splash the dirty water out so it can start draining towards the pools! That’s how they like it, so it keeps flowing-” 

Hector nodded, lowering the mop and using one foot to step down before the other. A sharp pain shot up his back, and it made his eyes widen with its sudden pressure.

“Oh!” He gasped, scrambling to save face by stumbling forward and grabbing the bucket.

Vibiano paused her own cleaning and went, “You alright, big guy?” Hector merely cleared his throat and went “Oh yeah- oh yeah yeah yeah-” 

He steeled a deep breath, and tried to ignore everything swimming forward.

Capochin didn’t even look up, using a dry rag to get all of his words off. The words that he used to try and win himself eternal affection.

All just pouring down the drain they came from.

Hector tilted the bucket forward, bending a bit with it and it made his pain flare with growing intensity.

His eyes wavered as the pain snaked around him and grabbed hard onto his sides. As if someone took a hairclip the size of him and clamped it above his hips.

He felt something rise, and an odd hot and cold mix waved over him. He shook his head as he tried to over-control his breathing, not able to deal with this in front of the people closest to him.

“Y-y’knows what!” He stuttered into fast speaking, grabbing the bucket and picking it up. “I’m gonna go get us fresh soapy water instead! Will make this so much easier, I’ll be right back!”

Vibiano watched Hector scurry off, past the main road towards Pua’s old paintstand. She hummed, and said, “Okay! Hurry back, sweetie!” She waved, and Capochin just sighed.

Not a word said.

Minutes passed, in chunks and ribbons until half-hours to hour approached.

Vibiano and Capochin continued to clean around the statue with what they had until their second bucket ran completely dirty as well. Vibiano put a hand on his hip, tossing her rag onto the side of it.

She looked up at their progress so far.

Fairly decent, the old god was nearly gone and Bauhauzzo could be seen again. There were still remnants of paint around a few of the heads…and there was still the smaller statue.

Capochin dunked his rag into the dirty water, hand soaked and smacked it by the little statue. The little follower.

The one who knew it all but couldn’t say a damn thing about it anymore because they had to know it was wrong.

Vibiano hummed, looking around with a raised brow. “Hector’s sure taking his time…wonder what’s taking him so long to fill a mop bucket?”

Capochin groaned as his legs crackled while he knelt to sit on his knees. He gently removed the statue’s hat, and golden sash.

A smug smile was painted onto this lost soul, a mask perhaps, or an imitation of who they want to be. 

He quietly looked into the painted eyes, and placed the wet cloth over its face as if telling it to give it a rest.

They didn’t have to be that anymore, but what will it be when it returns back to what it once was? Did it mean anything before that or was it just a piece of stone so old and forgotten folks didn’t even know who it was sculpted to be?

Was that all it was? Shaped to sit at the foot of god no matter who it is?

Maybe that's where it belongs…maybe that’s all it ever knows…

Capochin decided to let it get back to it, slowly unbuttoning the uniform to remove it. 

Vibiano asked again, “Capo? Do you know what could be taking Hector this long?”

Capochin removed the uniform and set it aside to start scrubbing all the streaks of blue off of the little statue.

“Hm? He’s probably throwin’ up again.” He spoke so nonchalantly about it, not even looking up from his task.

Vibiano took that in before sputtering a bit, wavering her hands. “Wh-what?? Then should we go check on him???”

Capochin blinked twice, before sucking in a hard breath as he realized what he said. “Ohhhh maybe-” He looked behind him, and saw Vibiano giving him a look. 

“And whaddya mean again? Why didn’tcha say he wasn’t feelin’ well sooner?” She asked, helping him up with his musical knees.

Vibiano's tone made him raise a hand with an angry look in his eye, “In my defense! He’s been sick like that for a week! I kinda thought it was stress-” His anger fell off into a slightly unsure worried look.

All Vibiano could say was, “He’s been sick like that for a week!?” before tugging Capochin’s hand and briskly walking in the direction Hector rushed off in.

They approached the old paint filling area and heard harsh breathing mixed with the air of soft groans. Small coughs turning into retches.

Hector was sitting on the ground, glasses tossed aside as he gripped a fist, pounding it on the hard tile. He stopped coughing and hung his head, rocking forward and resting his arms against the water bucket. 

Vibiano gasped at him, and let go of Capochin to rush to him. She knelt next to him and put her hand on his back, startling him hard enough to make him yell. 

“Oh Angel, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” She asked, but her hand was quickly shrugged off.

“Auh! Ah- ah-” Hector seethed, before blinking and putting on a strained smile. “Aaauhhhh no no yeah!” He hissed, trying to put his elbow on the bucket and support his head.

“Back’s aching a little but-” He paused to focus on his tension, gripping his hair to try and achieve counter-pressure, “-taking five will fix me up and I’ll get that statue lookin’ like new-”

He nodded his head, the motion aggravating his back more, and sending more pins and aches down his lower body. “And I- I-” He tried to speak through it but his words were lost in his pain as he gagged again and turned away.

Capochin didn’t dare step forward, watching Vibiano softly place her hand back on Hector’s back, gently rubbing up and down to try and give him some relief. He looked left and right, unsure what to do.

Something rose in him too, watching her hand go from the small of his back all the way up to his shoulders.

It just made his pain ebb around but Hector had always loved Vibiano’s touch.

“Iiiii need- an oil change ‘er somethin’- I need- to- stop- and- make up for what- I did-” Hector’s voice wavered, and Vibiano shook her head, “Nuh-uh, not like dis. You just breathe, love, just breathe. You ain’t giving me that robot talk. Youse ain’t no robot.”

Hector kept breathing, coughing and allowing Vibiano to carefully massage the knots in his back. 

“You’re human, and in my eyes you’ve never stopped being human, just experienced it in a different way.” She coiled her tail around his, applying slight pulling pressure to help. 

“So we’re gonna sit here until you’re ready to get back to it and not a second sooner! Have ya been eating? Thought about a primary docta?” She fretted, and Hector looked away quite nervously.

“Aaaaahahaha-” was all he did, sweating about it.

Vibiano merely sighed at him, worse than thirty years ago with him, she felt. She turned to look at Capochin to ask him, and saw he had stepped away. Quietly disappearing, just like he had been all day. 

Silent.

She shook her head, and kept rubbing Hector’s back, “You gotta be takin’ care of yourself, Hector. What we’re doing here is great, and what all youse wanna do to make up for your final acts of godhood is very sweet, but you got to remember...We’re all fifty and being fifty is the pits. Everythin’ hurts, and-”

Hector hissed when she pressed harder on his back, coughing and trying to breathe away more nausea. He interrupted her- “But- I allllways push through- I can push through and get it done-”

Vibiano shook her head, letting him hang his head and hack, “You got away with that in our twenties, baby, but youse can’t no more. Not allowed, actually, I decree it.” 

Hector sucked in a harsh breath, not wanting to stay down for long. He needed to get back up, he needed to set all this aside!

He needed-

His heart- to stop- racing-

It kept racing so very fast-

Vibiano cringed to herself when Hector hitched and threw up once more into the slightly sudsy paint water. 

“It’s not good for you, and I can tell you’re feelin’ a lot worse than you did in the Drain. I won’t let you do that.” She rubbed circles along his back, as he kept trying to get it all out. 

Something dropped into Vibiano’s lap. It was an ice cold water bottle. She squeaked at its temperature as Capochin circled around her, tail running across the back of their head.

“Yous can say all that again. Everythin' sucks. Everythin' hurts-” Capochin knelt next to Hector and held out another water, already opened for him.

Hector coughed and peeled his eyes open with a sniff to look at him. He delicately took it, and stared at it like it was a gift from above. Like Capochin didn't run into the little convenience store and buy it really fast.

“You…can’t bullrush. That’s all.” Capochin had so much more to say, but that hazy look in Hector’s eyes made him blush and plop down next to him with a gruff sigh. “...i learned dat the hard way too-”

Hector looked puzzled, inching away from the bucket to slowly sip the water. He grabbed his glasses and slid them on. 

Vibiano hummed, hugging onto Hector a bit. “You talkin’ about your sugar crash when ya tried to do a double?”

Capochin looked confused back at Vibiano, and said, “You remember?” to which he got a blank look in response.

“It was your forty-ninth birthday, Capo. I came ta pull you out of the double to get a drink and you passed out before ya even ordered. Wasn’t dat long ago.”

Hector blinked at him, and asked, “Whys…wasn’t I told about dat?” He took a small sip of the water, as Capochin rubbed the back of his head. 

“Aaahhh, well, it’s…I…I don’t know- Didja notice I was gone that weekend?” Capochin asked back, and Hector shook his head, “I…don’t think I remember- Everything blurred together for me then.”

Capochin hummed, looking away, trying to shove down the jealous feeling in his gut that Inspekta couldn’t rewire his brain for him. 

Inspekta was gone.

Capochin knew he needed to think in the present.

“It’s…that’s fine. We’re human.” It wasn’t his fault. Capochin didn’t tell him so he shouldn’t expect him to know, it just hurt in a way he had to deal with on his own.

The statue didn’t peer down at the little follower, because so many were scrambling at them.

Climbing...expecting...weighing on them...until the crack in the sky formed and shattered their heart with the jealousy of the next in line for the limelight.

Maybe the little follower could try to climb, but does it risk its weary bones to try and meet in the middle? Maybe-

Maybe it could be worth it.

Since the statue stepped down to his level, even if it's having trouble bending.

Hector’s back pulsed once more with pain, reaching up and snagging his neck. He squeezed his water bottle as he lurched forward because of it, water squirting out of it onto the tile as he gasped.

Capochin immediately shoved the thought aside and joined Vibiano with placing a gentle hand on his back.

Maybe he needed to stop thinking in metaphor and try to be here in the present. Nothing was going to move backwards, and he was not good at addressing his problems. 

So maybe he can help, and they’ll come up naturally. 

“Breathe, Hector. Don’t hold your breath.” Capochin told him, adjusting the water bottle in his hand. Poured over and soaking the sleeve of his sweater.

Capochin opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but nothing could come to his mind, except-

“Gettin’ old sucks.”

Vibiano nodded, and said in reply, “Should getcha into the doctor though, Hector. Pain this bad shouldn’t be chalked up to bein’ old. At least all the way.”

She looked at Capochin, and asked, “Do ya still go to the clinic at Coveside?”

Capochin itched the back of his head, “Issat place still…open?” He got a very knowing look from Vibiano. “You haven’t been to the doctor since that birthday, have you?” 

Capochin raised his arms, “I went to da follow up!”

Vibiano sighed, shaking her head. “What am I gonna do with the both of ya? Gonna drag you both to a doctor’s appointment, I swear to Huzz-”

Hector chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down remorsefully. Vibiano held him closer, rubbing the side of his arm. “We’ll getcha there, angel. We’re all gonna be okay. You just take your time. Can’t much make up for anything if you’re on the floor from it.”

Capochin nodded in quiet agreement. He held Hector too, and felt Hector’s tail reach from Vibiano’s hold of it to try and hold his too.

They formed a three tail hold, and sat with each other until Hector’s pain somewhat eased. When he said he was ready to stand, Vibiano and Capochin both stood slow and took his arms.

He was shakily helped from the ground, and spoke with such determination in his tired voice.

“...I think we can do this.”

---

After washing that bucket out a couple times, the three of them returned to cleaning the statue. Vibiano wiped her brow as the statue dripped clean from their efforts. It was done…

It took all day, the setting sun making the sky shine a lovely orange, but it was done!

Hector held up his mop, scrubbing once more, touching up little details. Making sure each nook and cranny was clean. 

Capochin and Vibiano started cleaning up their supplies, and Capochin kept sparing glances at the little follower.

Cleaned of all smugness, raw, and still looking.

He looked straight at Hector and crossed his arms. He looked at all of Hector's little details. The wrinkles on his face, the bags under his eyes, the smudges of his glasses and the frizz of his hair from a hard day's work.

If there was one thing he knew…

He had to stop looking up.

So he approached Hector and rubbed the back of his head. “Hey…Hec?”

Hector looked over, slightly lowering the mop. “Oh! Hey Cappy! You doing okay?” 

Capochin was a little shocked he asked, losing his train of thought. “Oh uh…Thinkin’ ‘bout having another smoke but otherwise- m'fine- I uh…wanted to tell ya-”

Before Capochin could even begin to try to express something to Hector they were all startled by a loud BEEP-BEEP!

Hector stumbled backwards, and Capochin’s arms shot out protectively to make sure he didn’t fall. Hector hissed in ebbed pain as they looked to see what made the offending noise.

They saw a beat up food truck roll through the square, and park nearby.

The large window opened to reveal Alexei, sporty sunglasses and all!

“Alexei? That you?” Capochin let Hector lean on him a bit while the former-bizzy beamed at them and waved rapidly. “We’ve been unofficially disbanded for a week. How have you had time to get a food truck?”

Alexei hopped out and knocked on the outside. “Oh, I found this thing completely broken down on the Coveside road! Torn apart and abandoned, started fixin’ it up!” 

Hector’s eyes widened at that, “Youse fixin’ it alone- Is it safe-?” He went to go investigate but Capochin held him back. Both of them knew he was too tired to get lost pointing out flaws in Alexei's goals AND engine.

Alexei stuck out his tongue, “Gonna give back to the Cove, start my new journey there! Came here for supplies! What are y’all doin’?” Alexei approached them, and Hector huffed a sigh.

“Just finishing cleaning the Buzzhuzz Statue. Bauhauzzo’s never looked better, I don’t think!” Hector pointed his thumb to it.

Alexei smiled, and nodded, “You guys did good! It don’t look like us no more!” Hector’s eye twitched a bit, but he simply went “Mhm! Say…y’know what…” 

Hector, still being held by Capochin, reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. It made Capochin blush a bit.

“Alexei…we did a mighty fine job, mind taking our picture?” 

Alexei smiled, as Hector unlocked the phone with his memorized password. He took it and gave him a salute.

“Yessiree!”

The three of them gathered, Hector waving over Vibiano. They stood in front of the statue, grabbing supplies for the photo to show what they did. 

Hector held up his dripping mop, Vibiano stood at his side and hugged him with a sponge in hand, and Capochin held his other side with the bucket he still had to dump out.

As Alexei slowly tried to figure out where Capochin’s phone camera was, Capochin stared off as he gave Hector’s side a comforting little rub.

“...This is the first step in makin’ it all betta, huh?”

“Mhm…” Hector agreed, nodding a bit.

“You walked it well, Heckity.”

Hector smiled at him, and spoke back plainly but with a smile that both warmed Capochin’s heart and made it shake with want and coldness. 

“You too, Cappy.”

Alexei held up the camera and shouted, “SAY CHEESE!!!”

---

Time passed in flashes, and eventually life got better.

Hector walked along the uneven wooden floorboards of their rickety fixer-upper home with his cane as he was practicing using it.

He flopped onto their thrifted couch, which was “new” and still smelled of Capochin’s “preventative” spray of roach gunk and bedbug solution no matter how much Hector tried to get it off. 

Hector pulled out his new phone, with its lovely bright red phone case and turned it on. He looked at the default lockscreen he still had on, and hummed.

The swirl of colors was so boring...about time he fixed that!

He went into his settings, and poked around until he found where he could set it.

He thought…and thought…and thought…

Until he thought of the one he loved most, and went into his text messages. He grabbed a photo of them and their bestest friend on the first steps of their recoveries…

He put it in place, like a permanent frame in the palm of his hands…

Hector smiled at it, rubbing his thumb alongside Capochin’s tired face in the photo. All that pain and worry swirling behind those eyes he kept quiet until he couldn't no longer...

Holding onto eachother, even when it was bad, even when it hurt, even when they had to rely on others other than themselves...

He swiped up…punched in Capochin’s birthday as his password…and hopped straight onto his candy crushing puzzle game until his dear called him for dinner.

It was all worth it.

Life went on.

Chapter Text

Capochin hadn’t smoked a cigarette in a week.

He should know how quitting feels considering this is one of dozens upon dozens of attempts he’s tried to get himself off of them.

It didn’t make it easier. It didn’t help him get past the first week.

If anything, the first week was the hardest and when he often found himself back at the start.

Fighting the craving, and trying to funnel his feelings when it felt like his brain was a drain full of bacon grease. 

It left him…staring at the ceiling in bed.

Tossing and turning, trying to close his eyes and take deep breaths but impatience grabbing him because of how long it was taking him to relax-

Sheets flung off him because he’s incredibly hot despite the room being very cold. Their ceiling fan above waved slightly and it did nothing to cool him off. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

If the blanket touched him, he kicked it aside like it was acid to his skin.

Hector beside him didn’t mind one bit, sighing contently as he gathered all the blankets into his arms.

It almost made Capochin smile if he didn’t feel incredibly jealous that his partner could sleep so soundly when he couldn’t even dream of a wink.

He was so tired, yet so awake, and so mad.

There was nothing to even be mad about. It wasn’t like he had work in the morning-

But if he didn’t sleep now, he’ll be tired in the morning and then the next day when he does have work it’s going to suck for him and he’ll mess up and if he messes up there’s a chance he’ll get fired and if he gets fired then Hector will hate him and might leave him and maybe just then-

Capochin blinked, shaking his head to interrupt the small spiral. He scooted aside and looked at Hector, curling his legs up.

He squinted at him, wishing to steal his peaceful sleep.

He thought about just grabbing his pillow behind him and smacking him, hand hovering over it.

Could just grab it and make him feel just as miserable as he did…or press it onto his face until he had to push him off and he could be as mad as him-

Or until he stopped that slight congested snoring-

Capochin’s eyes widened at that thought, that highly intrusive one made his hand shake. He scooted off the bed and stood as quietly as possible. 

He looked back and forth, putting his fingernails to his mouth as he watched Hector turn over like that thought's hand didn't graze the hot oven of his mind.

So he backed away from him.

He had to go calm down on his own. He had to do something to push these thoughts away so he wouldn’t hurt Hector.

Waking him would be hurting him anyways. Hector needed his sleep too!

So Capochin left their room and made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As he filled a tumbler with ice, his eyes glanced at the oven clock while their fridge poured his water.

Ice cold filtered water-

He stared at it, with unblinking eyes as it taunted him by being two in the morning. If he had to work in the morning he’d need to be up in three hours.

He didn’t. He didn’t have work. It was okay.

But it didn’t feel okay, it felt stiff. It felt hot. It felt like he was breathing but no breath was coming out.

The water overflowed onto his hands, scaring him into dropping the cup.

He stifled a cry out, falling to a kneel to catch the tumbler before more could spill. He swiped the ice into the cup as quickly as he could.

“Gggghhhh!!” He groaned while flicking water off of his hands, standing the cup up so he could swiftly grab some paper towels.

He dropped the roll, the entire thing wetting up with the spill, awkwardly sogging the bottom of the entire roll.

Capochin’s breathing turned to seething, and he covered his face with his hands as he grabbed onto his hair with tail lashing to and fro.

He yanked down, the feeling of his hair getting pulled and pulsing on his head sent him back into motion.

With rageful overly-controlled movements he grabbed both the dripping paper towel and cup, tossing them both in the sink.

He needed to busy his hands, his fingers were curling and he kept gripping and ungripping a fist. 

He began to pace, moving his arms however he could. 

His stomach hurt. His head hurt. His eyes and body and soul and psyche all hurt!

Something, something in his hands, something that wouldn’t hurt. He needed to stop hurting-

The keys to the van called at him.

He could tell from his pace they said “Drive to the nearest gas station and start over. You aren’t strong enough to stay on the wagon. Your head is so busy, you have so many bills coming up you can’t lose your job because you can’t sleep. Go start over.”

He paused and tapped his foot rapidly, crossing his arms. He groaned, tapping harder as he bent forward in pain. 

He should just go grab those keys and make the pain stop, his bones hurt and he needed something in his hands! 

Something! Anything in his hands!

That wouldn’t hurt!

His gaze went to their pantry. Capochin rushed to open it, leaning on its doorway.

He tightened his crossed arms after as he looked around and saw a lot of packs of noodles.

Boxes of rice. 

Wine…(look away from that Capochin, you aren’t about to chug it, you aren’t about to chug it-)

Snacks- 

And there, on the middle shelf, was so very easy for him to reach…two boxes of red velvet cake.

Capochin uncrossed his arms, and grabbed them both eagerly. This…this would work.

He whipped around and brought them to the counter, not even reading the back of the box as he turned the oven onto a healthy four-hundred degrees.

Opening cabinets, grabbing mixing bowls and spoons. He wiggled the spoon in his hand, and rapidly smacked it against the palm of his hand like an terrible teacher teaching rancid lessons with the violence of a ruler.

What else did he need, he couldn't just make a box cake, he had to dress it up a little! Milk instead of water. He opened the fridge and smacked the gallon onto the counter.

Melted butter instead of oil, he set aside a few sticks.

Eggs, one extra. 

He smiled tensely at his ingredients, even if he felt like shit, his cake wouldn’t be.

It would be the best cake. It would earn him all he wanted. It will calm him down-

He opened both mixes and tussled with the plastic of them both.

He pulled them out of their cardboard prisons and grabbed a small steak knife from their holder to slice it open. He held them both up, and with one swift cut both of them flopped onto the counter. 

He sucked in a breath as he peeled them up so the cocoa enriched flour wouldn't get everywhere. They were both dumped into the bowl, and he hummed as he wadded up the plastic and tossed it aside. 

He grabbed the eggs and another tiny bowl to crack them into. Using one hand, quick as can be, he cracked them against the counter.

He didn't care if the shells pinched or poked his hands, flicking down as each one went in with broken yolks. He tossed the eggshells aside, wiping his hands on his pajama shirt.

He grasped his fists again, the feeling of yolk on his fingers bothering him more than anything, adding more discomfort to him.

More ickiness under his skin. 

More sensations to make his tail whip and lash.

More pain swirling and spitting at him.

He ran his hand under some water, wiping them on his shirt more and more, the fabric a desperate grab to ground him that was not working.

So he had to keep moving forward.

“Okay okay okay-” He grabbed the milk and opened it, trying to think how much he needed. Measuring cups would help. 

He held the carton in one hand and grabbed the entire set that was still held together by its hard clasp.

He grabbed the single cup and added in two heaping full doses of milk into the mix. He smiled and looked at the butter and gritted his teeth when he realized it didn't melt itself.

“Oh- oh oh okay one second-” He put the cups down, and the milk aside to grab the sticks and try to open it. He hissed when the paper didn't want to come off the ice cold butter.

He growled, and decided he didn’t much feel like dealing with it. 

He smacked the butter back down and grabbed the vegetable oil from the pantry.

Two-thirds cup…two one third cups, he had that. It went in thickly before he remembered the eggs. He tentatively grabbed the bowl of near scrambled looking eggs and sighed at their busted yolks.

He tossed them in, and it went to be rapidly mixed together until the batter was thinner and deeper in color. 

Capochin thought of reaching his hand in and squeezing, but instead his shaking hand dipped in a finger and tasted it. 

It was good.

He…was being good. Even if he tapped his foot, flicked his tail, and blinked tiredly as he thought of the next step. 

Batter needed somewhere to go…he stared off at the bowl before what should be simple clicked in his mind.

Baking pan…CAKE pan, the way the words had to slowly flick to his brain made him feel stupid.

He opened his low cabinets and hunted around for his cake pans. He found a stack of them and pulled out two circle pans…or…two cupcake pans-

Cupcakes…Hector LOVES cupcakes…and chocolate…and cake…and hopefully still him despite everything he’s said to him this week alone.

He did recall yelling at Hector to quote unquote “shut the fuck up” and crying in apology just because Hector committed the sin of singing too loud in the shower.

Hector seemingly didn’t mind the yell, and held him and rocked him with hushes on his breath.

He wasn’t mad…he wasn’t mad…but what if he was teetering and was about to be mad with him anyways-

…cupcake pans.

If he made Hector cupcakes then maybe he wouldn't be mad so maybe he’ll calm down enough to get some sleep so maybe when it's time for him to go back to work he won’t be sleep deprived so maybe he wont get fired so maybe Hector won’t leave his sorry ass-

Capochin’s eyes hurt, he grabbed the pan and didn’t even bother with wrappers. Just a spritz of cooking spray would do.

He fumbled with it, hands shaking just a bit as he dropped the cap of it.

A generous amount on the pan, tremors in his hands despite him not being cold in the slightest. All that was needed was for batter to meet pan and it to find him salvation.

…was it that deep?

Deep as the divots of the pan, longing, wishing, hoping. To be full.

Capochin blinked slowly, head aching as he grabbed the bowl of batter. He just had to pour it into each little itty bitty crevice.

One at a time.

He tipped the bowl and watched the batter pour like little ribbons. It overflowed immediately, making Capochin wince as he went from slot to slot, but it was messy.

Messy, messy, messy! Oh how he couldn't STAND it!

Screw it!

He dumped the entire bowl over the pan, letting it evenly flow into all it could. He picked up the cupcake pan and used the spoon he mixed the batter with to try and get all of the excess off. 

It was messy, it was already ugly, almost just like him.

Well, no, it’s cake, cake is inherently more pretty than him because he knew he didn't taste good.

He probably tasted like sweat and lingering notes of nicotine, which made his hands continue to shake.

Once as much of the excess as he could get off was off, he smacked it into the oven. For about thirty minutes it would bake.

He crouched and looked at the shining light that barely illuminated the cake's form as if they’d bake in an instant.

He held his legs and rocked a bit back and forth, drumming his fingers.

He had to keep moving. He had to do something.

Clean. Clean, make yourself useful. Cover every flaw in sugar and smooth it out.

Boxes swept into the trash. Batter wiped into a washcloth, sticking to his hands. 

He groaned and properly washed them. Pumped extra soap into his hands and washed, used the same cloth to rinse the dishes.

Just to wash his hands again after, scrubbing his hands hard.

His hands smelled like nicotine, so he kept washing until they smelled like soap and cake batter.

Smells good. Smells nice.

Will be worth it. Will keep him up. Will lull him to sleep.

Will make all the bad thoughts go away.

Will make it like it never happened.

As waters poured down his slightly cracking hands, the subtle smell of red velvet started snaking around the kitchen.

It made him take a deep breath.

He needed to make frosting.

Cream Cheese, butter, powdered sugar, vanilla. Super easy. Even he could do it as the clock ticked closer and closer to three in the morning.

The cupcakes were nearly done. How long did he try to clean himself?

He had to move quickly, get this frosting done, and have these cupcakes iced before it got too late for him to try to sleep. 

The cream cheese was still hard as a brick from the fridge, but the butter had softened nicely since he forgot to put it away.

He opened them both into a bowl, both sticks smearing against each other. 

He should pull out his hand-mixer…but it’d be so loud and Hector’s still sleeping…he could mix this by hand-

He took a whisk and mashed it into the butter and cream cheese, rapidly whisking it to and fro until his wrist quickly tired.

It started to slowly come together, getting stuck in the whisk so he’d have to smack it against the bowl to get it out.

He huffed, and tossed the whisk down to hold and gently massage his wrist. 

His hands kept shaking. Shaking, shaking, SHAKING, it annoyed him so greatly the way he’d just shake.

It hurt, everything hurt, he was becoming a useless old man with nothing to give his darling but aches and pain so he had to give him cupcakes!

Pull the damn cakes out the oven now!

Capochin grabbed a hand towel and pulled the oven open. He grabbed the cupcakes without much thought and tried to toss them onto the stovetop.

The immense heat of the pan proved the hand towels thickness ineffective in keeping him safe. 

“Uuu hot hot HOT!” He dropped both the pan and the towel, making a small clattering noise as he looked at his trembling hand with a growl in his throat.

Screw this, screw it, screw it all!

Hector’s going to hate these but he had to get them done! He had to!

Can't let Hector make the choice to leave him on an empty stomach! Smoke filled his patchwork heart as he threw the whole bag of sugar into the frosting despite the butter and cream cheese not being incorporated. 

He went to continue whisking and flicked it everywhere. Powdered sugar coated the counter and part of the stovetop, a white snow layer of regret and ache. 

A massive mess he couldn't even comprehend with his aching eyes.

Capochin kept shaking and started breathing heavily as he kept mixing anyway. He grabbed the bowl and hugged it to his chest as he whisked, imprinting the sugar onto his pajamas.

Even if it was just boxers and one of Hector’s old button tops that no longer fit him.

He wheezed, and pushed through the pain, whisking whisking whisking. Hector’s gonna hate these, these are your worst yet, nothing you make is good enough and you should give up now.

What will be good enough may never be found, never be made, never by you. 

Never never never by you!

He choked, not even noticing tears salting the buttercream. 

Or the gentle paff of slippers against their hardwood floors.

“...Cappy?”

Capochin looked at Hector but Hector, standing there with kitty slippers and his nightgown, could tell he was looking straight through him. 

With eyes full of anger not for him and tears full of pain.

A simple “...Oh Cappy…” at his darling’s mess was all it took. 

More tears overflowed through an angry expression as Capochin crumbled to the floor on his knees, pushing the frosting away like it scorned him personally.

The shaking fully took him over.

Hector gasped his name, knee crackling as he knelt in front of his dear and placed a hand near the back of his neck. 

Trembling. The trembling was all over.

Capochin felt the slight chill of his hand, the small iota of comfort, the sweetness of his heart not meant for him at this moment. 

And in all his pent-up rage, he pushed away and growled out “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

He scrambled back, pressing his back to the cupboards and curling up with his tail blocking Hector from touching his shoulder.

He seethed as he balled himself up, regret sinking in immediately. His eyebrows tensely knitted into an expression of rageful melancholy.

Hector simply backed off, raising his hands and giving Capochin space.

He didn’t say a word. Just a gentle breath that could’ve been a little “Oh…” as he slowly stood while holding his back.

Hector watched Capochin’s eyes as he squeezed them shut, and his breathing sped up. Until it was coughing, until it was wheezes, until it was ugly little sobs.

So Hector looked at what Capochin was trying to do, despite the clock striking three in the morning. He gently sighed. 

He stepped past Capochin, who was grabbing his hair with one hand and chest with another as the tears just flowed and flowed. 

How much he wanted to rock him, to hug, to hold, to kiss his forehead, but he knew Capochin needed something else right now.

Something he was trying to give him, he presumed. To make up for existing how he is.

Hector didn’t care, he was tired and this smelled nice.

So he wanted to make it nice for the person who made his life far more than nice.

To the person who made his life everything.

For he was his everything.

Hector stepped past him, making his breathing quicken. In Capochin’s eyes that was it. He pushed him away. He should beg and grovel for him to stay but he couldn’t move.

He couldn’t breathe. 

If he had a cigarette, maybe he could breathe. He needed something to breathe through-

He coughed a sob again, and it hurt Hector’s heart to hear as he simply approached their upper cupboards.

He opened them and pulled out two bowls. He grabbed a fork and didn't even bother trying to get the cupcakes out of the pan.

They broke apart under the gentle pressure of the fork anyway.

Hector portioned three crumbly cakes into the bowls, trying to make it nice and even. 

He regarded the half mixed frosting and grabbed the whisk, and gave it a few more mixes until the powdered sugar absorbed fully.

It wasn’t the best looking cream cheese, buttercream, whatever it was supposed to be, frosting but he took a lick of it and it was a pound of powdered sugar. 

So it tasted good. 

Hector used the whisk to flick it into the bowls, and then grabbed a spoon to stick in each one. 

He grabbed one of the bowls and gingerly crouched by Capochin. He was still wheezing and tears were still streaming down his cheeks. 

“Cappy? Baby?”

Capochin shook his head, coughing still. That name was far too sweet, and made his heart roll. He didn’t want to look Hector in the eye.

He didn’t want to hurt him.

“Oh sweetie, come on now- Let me help you to bed-” He stacked the bowls on top of each other, and held out his hand to Capochin.

Capochin didn’t even look up, he just spoke hoarsely, “You’re gonna- you gotta go to sleep- you can’t- you can’t not sleep because of me- I’m sorry-” 

Hector shook his head, “You know what’ll help me get back to sleep? What you can do to make it alllll better for me?” He knew what Capochin was feeling, he knew how hard his body was working and fighting itself. 

Capochin looked up a bit, sniffing and swallowing snot. “What?”

“You can be nice to my husband’s poor, tired soul and come back to bed. Sit with me and try to eat? I noticed you didn’t even clear your plate at dinna you know.”

Capochin hummed, taking that in. “Iii-” He coughed again, into his hand. “I don’t think- I can-”

Hector held out the bowl to him, and their eyes finally met. “Try for me? One little baby step?” Capochin looked at those big beautiful green eyes and felt all the love peering through them as they blinked kisses at him.

Dressing him up and down when he was a mess on the floor, smooches all over.

It made him feel loved and gross at the same time. 

However, he'd do anything through any anguish for his Hector.

With his hand shaking still so badly he took the bowl, and held it to his torso as tight as he could.

He took Hector’s hand, and Hector immediately gave it a squeeze. Capochin groaned as he tried to get himself to his knees with his love’s gentle tugging. 

Bones hurt. Muscles hurt. Organs hurt.

Breathing hurt.

And all Capochin could worry about was his hand being a connector of pain, like a frayed wire trying to intertwine into another and shocking it to death.

He was worried Hector would feel his pain and hate him for it.

Hector merely gently helped his shaking red-hot burning body stand, supporting him the best he could with a gentle hug against his body. Capochin put his arm around him too, leaning on him more than anything else.

Capochin blinked his aching eyes as Hector calmly spoke to him. “Take it slow, shoe. One step at a time, let's go…”

He felt a few more tears fall as he sniffed and swallowed thickly.

Their steps were soft against their fixer-upper floors, all the way back to the same stuffy bedroom.

Hector supported him until he crawled onto his side of the bed, shuffling stiffly to the baseboard and laying slightly against his pillows.

Hector tossed aside the fussed up sheets and comforter, the bed squeaking underneath him as he joined him.

He sat close to Capochin, but not quite snuggling him. He didn’t know if Capochin wanted to be spooned at this moment of time, he’d let him come to him on that. 

Silence fell over them, and Hector took the first bite of cake. 

All Capochin heard was a small hum of contentedness which made him take a deep breath and grip his spoon tighter.

His shaking hands made the glass of the bowl tink and wobble. He looked down at it with his aching eyes and curled his legs up a bit to hold the bowl better.

“...Is…is it good- Is it gonna help you sleep-?” He asked, and Hector just took another little bite, nodding his head down in both confirmation and for Capochin to take a bite himself.

Capochin groaned a bit, and got a bit of cake and frosting onto his utensil before taking a bite. It was sweetness overload, the cake crumbly and the frosting dreadfully under-mixed. 

But it was nice.

Capochin couldn’t stomach it, but he smacked his lips on it for a minute. 

“I take it it's not hitting the spot?” Hector asked softly, scooting just a little closer. Capochin shook his head, making Hector go “Awh…my poor shoe…” before giving him a small squeeze.

They both nibbled on the cakey concoction little bitty bites at a time until Capochin’s tears were dry and he wiped his sleeve because his nose burned too.

He leaned more onto Hector with half-lidded eyes. “Hhhheckity…?” He said, exhaustion peeling off his voice.

“Yeah?” Hector blinked tiredly at him, the clock now reading closer to four in the morning.

Capochin closed his eyes, still shaking slightly. “Iiii don’t think- I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow…” 

Hector stacked their bowls and put them on Capochin’s side table, gathering him into his arms further.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, sweetie. Neither do I. We can just sleep on in, m’kay?” Hector lied straight through his teeth, before planting a big kiss onto Capochin’s forehead. 

Capochin closed his eyes, groaning a bit. “That's…that’s nice…” He mumbled, as Hector slowly laid down with him in his hold.

Capochin let him card his fingers through his hair a bit, as Hector was trying his damnedest to be as soothing as possible.

He didn’t hug back, opting to curl up in his embrace and hold his stomach. The pain still gripped him all over but he could not stand to have his eyes open any longer.

He heard a little clatter, likely Hector tossing his glasses next to the bowl so he could snuggle onto him better. 

Capochin tried to breathe, and get to sleep. So Hector could get back to sleep. It was hard. 

He simply laid there, the ache filling each of his thoughts despite his husband’s gentle breathing trying to guide him. Tomorrow could be better as much as it couldn’t be. 

It could ease his craving, it could be even worse.

It could involve him and Hector going to their nearest gas station for a warm lunch and him buying a fresh pack of cigarettes to get this feign out of his heart. 

Hector would come out with their croissant sandwiches and see him smoking it, and say not a damn word.

He’d give him a tired look, but still a bright smile as he made sure they made his sandwich just right for him.

That's what Capochin loved the most about Hector. He didn’t know if he could take that tired look so full of worry for him. 

So he kept his eyes closed, trying to match that gentle breathing.

Sleep may not have found him, but love? Love sure has. Love will keep him steady, whether the smoke flows through the patchwork heart or not.

Love will slowly beat out the pain, until the pain would no longer be. 

Until the light didn't need to be at the end of his fingers.

Until the scent of nicotine left from beneath his fingernails.

Until the shakiness stopped.

It held him, pinned him in the bed, left him to sit there and tremble and wait until that lunch time…

But Hector’s breath smelled just a little bit like the cupcakes, as Capochin snuggled closer with a big inhale through his nose.

…he smelled nice.