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The Maze

Summary:

Hater’s eyes are bulging, boiling fury surging up his chest leaving scorching burns in its trace.

“Peepers we’re loosing him!!” Hater screeches, wrenched vowels raking down Peepers spine. He jolts, blurting out the first direction that pops in his mind, “Left!”

Hater huffs, heading left. Peepers rolls his eye, sighing as he repeats left in his mind several times so someone remembers where they came from.

Far ahead Hater cries out, “Peepers you were wrong! It’s a dead end!” He sharply turns around, pitch whining, “Now we have to go all the way back!” 



Peepers deadpans, retracing the five steps they just walked. As he backs up he makes his steps wide and dramatic, annunciating how ridiculous Hater’s complaint was. “Well I’m sorry I don't know this maze, sir.” Salt seasons his bitter words, eluding sarcasm.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Oh no!” The commander halts, the heels of his boots digging into the ground. Dust erupts around his ankles, coating his crimson boots in a thin layer of tortilla. “I am not going to just follow you blindly like I always do, and definitely not all for some wandering weirdo!” Peepers crosses his arms, pointedly looking away from Hater’s diminishing form.

Screeching silence flutters into the frigid atmosphere, rubbing itself along the thick decaying corn stalks. Akin to a cat it rubs along the stalks, shedding pieces of burnt leaves that dwindle in the biting breeze.

Fog swarms around Hater, concealing him from Peepers view.

Of course Lord Hater swears he saw Wander go into the corn maze, and just had to run in after him. How he could have seen Wander from all the way up in the skull ship Peepers doesn't know, and he doubts Wander is even in here. But like usual Hater dashed in after him, and now… now… oh grop.

“Oh who am I kidding?” His chest sags, rigid stubbornness plummeting out of his harsh long exhale. He jogs in after him, knowing the cycle far too well by now. Wherever Hater goes he will always end up following. Besides, Hater’s probably already lost. Peepers lids tilt into a smirk.

He keeps heading straight, given it’s the only option. Through the haze his surroundings begin to grow vivider as he focuses on the hunched ebony figure. His feet slam into the bouncy terrain as he mutely settles his limbs into a quickly paced strut. Several inches away from Hater now he catches up swiftly, slowing to a brisk walk as he stares up at Hater’s tight jaw. His ivory bones mold into the moonlight, belonging there so well in Peepers opinion. The porpoise smoke dancing around him make his pale shade pop out even more, and his chartreuse eyes are simmering brilliantly in contrast to the drab atmosphere. Dark has always complimented him well.

Besides him Peepers drowns in his large grease shadow. His most luminous attribute is his iris, which has even dimmed considerably from the silky pedals of a rose to deep mahogany.

Hater’s eyes snap to him, glowering as the question pounces across his pupils. It strikes Peepers heart still momentarily, before it rapidly thrashes in the question’s piercing torrid claws.

Peepers swears he’s wondering why he was just gaping at him. Humiliation yells at him, sending his head spiraling as incriminated inquiries send his self-confidence crashing to his boots.

He adverts his eye, not giving Hater the chance to voice his pondering.

But then he notices that Hater has stopped. Fear plummets his heart down, and while his pulse sharpens he splints himself, pausing as well. Hater doesn't seem angry or accusing though, he looks like he’s considering something. The options spin around in his pupils, and he looks from Peepers to straight ahead. 

He looks uncomfortable, pupils dashing from the right to the left to Peepers. “Well?”

Peepers blinks, anticipation flowing in his veins. “Yes?” The query courageously breeches out his contracting esophagus. Hope flits in between his compact ribs, languidly settling his palpitating heart.

“Which way?” Lack of patience saturates his tone, his humid animosity bleeding into the environment.

Peepers looks ahead, pulse plummeting to its regular tempo once more. “Oh.”

The path. Right.

It’s split two ways, right and left.

Brainstorms of tangents start to barricade in between the vessels of his brain. He attempts to boil down the best method to getting out efficiently. His lids move, cartwheeling over flexible mute consonants. Pupil moving, he ponders fragments of plans. He’s heard the left path is always shorter, but beyond that he doesn't know a wink about mazes. He’s never been in one, until now that is.

Hater’s eyes are bulging, boiling fury surging up his chest leaving scorching burns in its trace.

“Peepers we’re loosing him!!” Hater screeches, wrenched vowels raking down Peepers spine. He jolts, blurting out the first direction that pops in his mind, “Left!”

Hater huffs, heading left. Peepers rolls his eye, sighing as he repeats left in his mind several times so someone remembers where they came from.

Far ahead Hater cries out, “Peepers you were wrong! It’s a dead end!” He sharply turns around, pitch whining, “Now we have to go all the way back!” 



Peepers deadpans, retracing the five steps they just walked. As he backs up he makes his steps wide and dramatic, annunciating how ridiculous Hater’s complaint was. “Well I’m sorry I don't know this maze, sir.” Salt seasons his bitter words, eluding sarcasm.

Lord Hater ignores him, racing past him as he starts to frantically take turns.

For a generous amount of time Peepers stubbornness allows this to occur, wanting to watch Hater suffer a tad. But all too soon a headache barges into Peeper’s head, and he realizes that he’s stuck in this situation too. His legs start to trudge and stumble over the hay straw scattered mud. Directions tumble through his brain, making the headache coiling around his brain tighten. It throbs at the overload of information, and with each turn he’s more and more disoriented.

Once they reach the umpteenth dead end Hater hollers, throwing his head back as his fists glow shamrock. “Stupid corn!!” 

Peepers stops, sighing as he massages his head. “Sir we need to,” He glances up when he hears rustling, and Hater limbs whoosh past him in a chiffon blur. “Sir!” Peepers sprints to catch up with him, fearing that he’ll loose him in the dark atmosphere. The sun hovers low in the horizon, the last streaks of tangerine ebbing away into the star sprinkled sky. Both their eyes have adjusted to the changing light, but the smoke has grown thicker. Peepers still hasn't figured out if it’s natural or coming from a smoke machine.

But that’s besides the point.

“Sir we need to be smarter about this! We need to strategize!”

Hater scoffs, continuing to march. “What more is there to it? Keep picking directions until your out, duhhh, haven’t you ever been in a maze Peepers?”

Peepers narrows his eye, pushing his legs to take larger strides. “Actually no sir I haven’t, but I know enough to understand that mindlessly wandering is a waste of time.”

“No one that goes in a maze makes a strategy, that’s nerdy!” Hater’s last words waver in octaves, crying in Peepers ears.

The commander arms intertwine in front of his chest, his right hand clenching into the thin obsidian fabric of his left arm as he glances off into the ink dripped corn. “Well then, have fun not catching up to Wander.”

Hater growls, tossing his skull back. “Fine!” He searches around, mind raking across the ambience for some sort of escape.

Peepers nods, pleased Hater is being accommodating for once. “I think we should-“ 

“No Peepers! I’m getting us out of here!” Hater stomps, pitch shredding Peepers eardrums.

Peepers sighs, not even bothering to muster the strength to argue. “Okay sir.”

Hater is motionless, hunched as he takes in the setting.

Peepers supposes he should be honored, yet at the same time knows Hater is only fighting to be the one to get them out because of his stubbornness.

“Oh!” His jaw hangs open, eyes enlarging and twinkling. He descends towards his commander rapidly, shooting his arms out and gripping Peepers sides.

“Sir?!” Puzzlement weakens his senses, and all he can think to do is flail as his world shifts around him.

He looks down and Hater is wrapping his legs around his neck, his limbs somehow bending and obeying without thought. His vision tumbles and makes his head light. His hands tremble as he steadies himself. His palms rest on his hood, lying lightly over the smooth cherry fabric.

“Can you see the exit?” Hater straightens his spine, traveling closer to the towering cornstalks. With each step Peepers shifts on his shoulders. He’s so taken aback he starts to slip backwards, back inclining as his hands lurch around Hater’s neck. Hater chokes, stumbling a little. “Peepers.” He grinds out between his clenched teeth, and Peepers hands jump back lightening in pressure. He loosens his grip, stuttering, “S-sorry sir!”

The tips of the cornstalks are still in view, but beyond that graphite fog depletes the sooty air. It’s foreign being so high, and the air feels thinner. But maybe it’s more from the elated buzz of looming over the plants that once cast broad shadows on him.

Then Peepers recalls the reason why he’s tall. “No there’s too much fog.” Peepers stiffens, bracing himself to be thrown on the ground.

Hater growls, but with a surprising amount of delicacy lets Peepers down. Peepers grips his arm, ignoring the sorrow that naw’s his bones when he lets go once he’s on the ground. He steps aside, and Hater mumbles, “I’ll think of another way.”

Still dazed Peepers opts for not commenting.

More time passes, eaten up by more twists and turns all leading to disappointment. Hater doesn't even care about taking Wander anymore, he just wants to find the exit now.

One of the wilted corn stalks hanging lowly to the path waves to Peepers. Puzzlement clouds his eye as he looks at it, realizing that he’s seen it before. Then he really opens his eye, looking clearly at his surroundings. They've been here before!

Desperation consumes his hope, and all the air leaves him. His lungs ache, dragging his spine down. “Sir we’re going in circles!” 

Hater blinks, defensiveness eating his reasoning. “What? No we aren’t!”

He takes a gander around, hesitation lowering his tone, “Besides how would you know? Everything looks the same; it’s all corn!”

Peepers groans. He doesn't want to explain it all to Hater honestly he’s too tired and frustrated. Gathering strength he whines, “Because that corn stalk,” His hand flails, extended pointer finger waggling lazily at the dead cornstalk, “has fallen and no where else we’ve been has that happened in that exact position. It’s low, almost touching the path that’s how I remember we’ve passed it before!”

Hater is unimpressed, face slack and lids not blinking. “It’s a plant, plants die.” His calm tone is the last of the coals fueling Peepers fury. 

“Sir we’re going in circles!! It doesn't even matter if you don't want to admit it! The point is we are still lost!” 

“AUGH LIKE I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PEEPERS!” The howl echoes through the cornstalks, tumbling through the empty maze. It shatters the mood, adding heat and tension between the pair. And not the good kind.

“Well we can’t just keep guessing! It’s getting us no where but coming back the way we just were!” Peepers chases after Hater, pounding his feet harsher than necessary into the ground. The strength of the action sends pain spiking up the back go his calves, but his anger numbs the sensation. Hater carries on, walking quicker with hunched shoulders.

“Thats it!” Hater turns, literally exploding. His pupils are buried by lime that expands down his veins, electrifying them as they flood his fists. “I’m blasting us out!”

Peepers hops back, narrowly missing the waves of crackling lightning that hiss past his ear.

Lord Hater sharply turns, tearing through the corn field. He shoots at the corn, illuminating the chaos in shades of green. Peepers lids gape in shock, before tilting in a wide grin. “Yes! Go sir go!” He cheers, hurrying to catch up with him.

Hater shoots at the impending crusty corn, making them even deader as he plummets through them. They fall around him, bowing as their spines break and disintegrate. Leaves and corn soar in the sable air, collapsing to the ground at their feet.

Rough panting bounces through the air, and the parakeet glow fades to charcoal as Hater’s taunt arms fall to his sides. Hater’s jaw dangles, tongue drooping out desperate for chilly serenity.

Both of their eyes meet the wilted waving cornstalk at the same time. They stare at each other, both of their identical questions immediately answered.

“WHAT HOW’S THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?! THIS STUPID MAZE IS BROKEN!” Hater arms stretch up at he jumps, shrieking.

Peepers stands dumbfounded. How could they have possibly ended up back where they just were? 

Sharp rustling punctures their ears, provoking stiff consternation that raids their senses.

Peepers leaps, plunging into Hater’s leg and wounding his arms around it. “Sir!” He squeaks out, paranoia and his lack of his ray gun filling him with fear. “I’m scared.” He clutches Hater harder, fingers digging into his coat.

Peepers low confession is the last straw for Hater, all his faith in getting out abandoning him.

Hater shoves Peepers off him, who flounders backwards and almost falls. He clutches the sides of his skull, pupils shrinking, “GAH WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!” 

The rustling ceases. The air stenches of fear, thinning out the cleanliness and making both of them feel like choking.

Peepers walks backwards, trembling. The quivering of their hearts is all they can hear.

“Boo.” The whispered heat skips past his ear, and Peepers lets loose a high pitched scream. Hater jumps a foot in the air in front of him, gasping. Horror blocks his throat, the stumble of words Hater wants to let out being trapped.

Sylvia’s cackles plummet through the stiff air, cutting through the terror. Tears gather in the corners of her eye, escaping as her lids squeeze shut. “Oh my oh my,” She laughs, struggling to get the words out, “my grop that was hilarious!” She doubles over, clutching her abdomen.

Peepers chest heaves, dilated pupil staring at her. The exclaim mounts up his diaphragm, “Zbornak?!”

To Wander and Sylvia they sure are a sight to see. They are covered in corn, leaves, and dirt.

Once the shock registers through, suspicion replaces it. Peepers squints, “Wait you two are still in here?” He looks to Wander whose just come from down the path, standing behind Hater .

“Well we’re not lost if that’s what you’re implying. Wander wanted to come back through here to get back to the entrance instead of going around. You know, more fun that way,” She shrugs, “But first we had a snack on the other side, since we got out of here so fast.” She smirks, looking to Peepers who grumbles incoherently.

“Well the first step to gettin out of a maze is stayin’ on the path.” Wander mumbles through stretched humorous lips loudly.

Lord Hater’s shoulders slouch even more, eyes bulging, “WANDER AUGH!”

Wander waltz around him. Hater glares at him, “How did you- augh! Never mind why am I even surprised?!”

Hater starts to leave, heading on his destroyed path. “Come on Peepers this time I know we won’t end up back here!”

Wander gasps, throwing his hand out to block Peepers from following him. Peepers thuds into his arm, hard. “Hater!” Wander gasps. “Strayin' off the path is dangerous! And you are ruinin' the corn.”

Hater swings around, stopping momentarily. “Corn is stupid!! We don't need a dumb path to lead us out of here anyways, we can find our own way out. Paths are too easy.” Hater smirks, continuing to walk away.

Sylvia roughly exhales through her nostrils, “Wander-“

He thrusts his arm up, and Peepers takes the opportunity to duck under it and walk off after Hater. “NO! They need our help-“

Hater, without turning, shouts- “No we don’t!” 

Wander rushes on the path of destruction, racing on the fallen corn stalks. Peepers feet ache in protest besides Hater, and he sighs. Wander will end up helping them anyways. “Sir-“ He tries to voice this, but then they're stumbling out onto the main path somehow again.

Hater shouts at the sight of it, the cocoa dust mocking him.

Wander shoots out besides him, pointing at it, “Oh look the path!”

Lord Hater drags on, attempting to ignore Wander whose bouncing besides him. Haters lips are stained in a downwards U, and his red veins bulge in his shamrock eyes again. A fork in the road is up ahead, and Hater on the whim decides to go left.

“Actually it’s right.” Wander stage mumbles, halting in the middle and bouncing on the tips of his toes. “Well I’m going left!” Hater swerves, continuing down the left path.

Wander places both his hands around his mouth, “But it’s a dead end!” He shouts down after him, shaking his head.

“AUGH!” Hater turns, stomping back and going down the right path.

Sylvia and Peepers follow a ways behind them, knowing it is wiser to avoid zigzagging through the maze like Hater is.

“So, how long have you two been in here? Sylvia turns to Peepers, walking leisurely down the path. 

Peepers exhales, rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingers. “Honestly, I don't know. He wanted to follow you two in here.” The words are acerbic on his lids, leaving the air with a tang of saltiness.

“Yet, here you are.” Sylvia cooly states, yet glances at him with interest in her eyes.

“Well,” Peepers stutters, “I’m his commander and right hand man, and I have to hold up to those titles! Part of my job is to make sure he doesn't get himself killed.” 

She nods, casualness leaking out of her words, “So in other words, you care about him.” It’s not at all a question, certainly not the way she says it.

It’s said with such an air of comfortableness Peepers doesn't think at first. “Yes.” He nods, and besides him Sylvia’s lips stretch into a coy grin.

Peepers can hear the grin splitting in the silence that ensues, causing him to backtrack. “Wait what?! Well I-“

“I’m kidding! Sheesh.” She shoves him in the arm, meaning for it to be playful but the strength of it causes Peepers to falter backwards.

She smirks, continuing to look ahead. “But of course I’m right. It’s plain as day so don’t even bother arguing.”

Peepers rolls his eye, humiliation begging him to keep fighting her on it. “I-“

“Left!” Wander’s holler interrupts him, and Hater groans as he quickly turns on his heels to the left. “I WAS GOING THAT WAY!” He screeches, while he had clearly not been.

“You?” Sylvia’s voice brings him back to their one-sided argument, and Peepers huffs, “Shut up zbornak.”

“Aaand right!” Wander waves his finger, taking the lead now with a huge swing in his steps. “Here we are back at the entrance!”

Peepers blinks, “Huh, that didn't take that long.” 

Sylvia snickers, “Yeah since you were only ten feet from it.” Not being able to hold back her laughter anymore, she lets it barrel out. It strikes the atmosphere, and makes Peepers deadpan.

Regardless, crossing over the entrance of the maze once more cause Hater and Peepers to take consecutive sighs of relief.

Hater crosses his arms, mumbling, “Whatever, we would've totally found our way out.”

Wander’s arms wave by his sides, an ecstatic grin pulling his cheeks up. “That was fun! Don’t you think so?”

Hater gags as Sylvia’s laughter slips into a smirk. “NO! That was awful I hated every second of it!” At the same time Sylvia nods, “Yeah.”

Wander turns to Hater, “Well next time you get lost, it helps to-“ 

“There won’t be a next time! And we weren't lost!” Hater tosses his arms out, physically rejecting the statement.

“Sure, you just wanted to take the harder way out of the maze.” Sarcasm leaks out of her tone, but of course it escapes Hater’s notice.

“Yeah!” He enthusiastically nods once, turning to head in the opposite direction from Wander. “Come on Peepers.” He dully mumbles, and despite his back being turned Wander waves. His hand is a blur of bright orange. 

“Bye Hatey! Bye Mr. Peepers!”

Peepers hurries to get away from Sylvia’s smirk, and resumes his place besides Hater.

Lord Hater grouses, “We never speak of this again.” His hood is drawn down, covering half of his eyes. Besides him Peepers helmet is akin to this. Both of their faces are dimmer, features pulled down from irksomeness and exhaustion. Peepers nods in agreement, “Agreed.”

It took them each a week to stop finding remains of cornstalk or hay on their bodies. And neither of them managed to erase this memory from their brains, no matter how hard they tried.

Notes:

I hope the conversation between Sylvia and Peepers at the end didn't sound too forced.. It was my first time writing her it was a lot of fun!

Feedback fuels me :)

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