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Max shredded the mattress with his claws until the yellow cotton came out.
He hasn't slept.
Since the incident.
It was so hard to sleep.
Especially with all the paperwork stacked on the desk, his bed and including the floor.
Yeah… yikes.
But it's just not fair.
It should've been him instead.
He stopped shredding the mattress, panting heavily.
He'd been doing this for about an hour and a half, and the mattress barely looks like a mattress anymore.
Now it looks like a pile of cotton.
Why couldn't it be him instead?
Why couldn't it be anybody else!?
Other than Sam…
Sam didn't deserve this.
He didn't deserve any of this.
If only that stupid fucking space ape hadn't came.
If only Paperwaite would've died sooner.
Everything would've turned out so much better.
Everything would've been right again.
But it didn't happen. None of that did.
If only…
Sam would've been here.
Sam.
Samuel Wolfhound.
His husband and lover for 25+ years.
His best friend for longer.
His… everything.
Samuel.
Max gripped at his chest, struggling to breathe.
He's been holding in his tears and feelings for so long that it started bubbling up in his chest.
Now that's something that hurts.
But it doesn't hurt as much as Sam dying.
Max stumbled off the bed and rushed to Sam's desk, scratching the surface and tried desperately to regulate his breathing.
God, has he gone insane?
…
Don't answer that. Of course he has.
Oh, Sammy. If only everything can go back to normal.
If only he had a time machine.
But he doesn't have one on him at the moment.
Max eventually gave up from holding it in as he started ugly sobbing.
He face-planted onto the larger desk and pulled at his ears.
Everything.
Just.
Hurts.
*-*
Max sat outside the office.
He accidentally locked himself out.
Again.
His ears drooped down forward.
What's the point anymore?
Nothing's the same without Sam.
Hell, not even being locked out of the office is fun anymore.
Max looked down at the grimy floorboards.
Stained with coffee, blood, and even other unexplainable fluids.
God, remember they used to always make a mess in the hallway?
And yes, we're using a flashback sequence.
—————————
Sam and Max came outside their office, holding artificial cola and a pack of mentos.
"What are we doing again?"
"We're conducting a scientific experiment with cola that has been made from scratch and mentos that are completely expired!"
"Ooh! Is it gonna be that time where we were in science class and we used some kind of liquid and another thing and made our entire table explode??" Max beamed.
"Exactly like that! Except we're blowing up our neighbor's respect for us!" Sam uncapped the Coke bottle, causing it to sizzle and fizz.
"Not Flint Paper's, right?"
"Nah, he just lost patience with us."
Sam placed the uncapped bottle on the floor and handed Max the expired mentos.
"When I say go, you go ahead and dunk the mentos in the coke."
Max went over and hovered the mentos over the coke.
"Ready? G-!!"
"GO!!!"
Max yelled before dropping the mentos, immediately causing an explosion that splashed on the floorboard and on himself.
Sam laughed hysterically, gripping onto the doorway.
Max shook off the coke vigorously, "Sam!! I'm all wet now!"
"That's!.. That's because..!" Sam heaved, still laughing his ass off.
It took Sam another minute or so to calm down.
Sam wiped at his eyes, laughing a bit still. "That's because you were standing so close to it! You should've backed away after you dropped the mentos!"
"Ugh, now I'm all sticky." Max ran his paws through his fur, catching some tangled fur and pulls on it until it splits apart. "ow."
"Oh, Max." Sam sighed dreamily, picking up his unhygienic partner by his waist and hugs him, not caring if the soda wets his coat or suit.
"I love you, you blockhead."
Max smiled and rested his head on Sam's shoulder, hugging back.
"I love you too, ya big lug."
—————————
Max had lied down on the floor, scratching at the floorboards.
…
Now he's hungry.
He avoided eating for the past month or so because…
well…
it doesn't feel the same anymore.
But his small tummy can only go so many days without eating.
And right now, is the end of his "fasting".
Whatever that means.
So, the rabbitty-thing got up and held onto his stomach before walking down the hallway.
He looked at Flint Paper's door.
Flint Paper had moved away from town after Sam died.
Why couldn't he stick around and help Max instead?
Frankly, Max doesn't know.
And he doesn't bring himself to care.
If he was Flint Paper, he wouldn't have hung around him either.
Max sighed, coughing dryly a bit due to a lack of hydration.
He continued his walk and went down the stairs.
Opening the office building door, he walked out to face the world again.
God, has it always been this depressing?
Yes. Yes it has.
His beady little shark eyes looked up at the sky.
It shouldn't be this blue.
It really SHOULDN'T.
Max pulled out his Lunger gun and shot at the sky, yelling in frustration.
He shot until he ran out of bullets.
But he continued to click it, fully aware that it's empty.
Max stopped yelling, as he teared up quickly before throwing his gun swiftly to the right, hearing the crashing of trash cans and a yowl from a stray cat.
He'll get it later when he gets home.
Right now, he needs something in his stomach before he dies of starvation.
Which he should, let's be honest.
But after another emotional breakdown, Max went to walk down the street with his arms crossed.
God, without Sam's adorable yappin', the streets are quiet.
Like dead quiet.
…
Pun unintended.
As Max walks past Stinky's Diner, he wonders how Grandpa Stinky is holding up.
Considering he presumably lost his granddaughter in an explosion.
Maybe he'd care? Maybe he wouldn't.
Who knows.
But that isn't even the strangest thing he picked up.
He didn't even smell that "hazardous restaurant" smell.
And he didn't feel a need to puke.
Oh god, everything really has changed, hasn't it?
Hopefully Sybil…
oh what's the point.
Of course she's going to be different.
Max takes in a deep breath before looking around and sees a lonely corn dog stand.
Least those are still relevant.
The lagomorph went towards it and picked off a corn dog from its holder, inspecting it.
No weird green spots on it?
Damn.
Max shrugged before grabbing the "special sauce" bottle and squirted some on the corndog, taking in a bite.
Ya know…
Everything may have changed over the course of months, but the food hasn't.
By the way, what the hell even is the special sauce?
Him and Sam never figured that out.
Remember when they took it to Stinky's, and both Girl Stinky and Grandpa Stinky almost literally openly vomited?
Woah, double flashback?
—————————
Sam ordered two deep fried corn dogs at the vendor stand.
"Want any sauces, Max?" The dog-detective turned around to see his husband hand-fishing from the deck.
"One second, Sam! Almost got it!" Max swam his hand through the sewage infested water before grabbing something.
"Ah-ha!" He pulled his hand up to see a mackerel. Surprisingly, it didn't die in that water.
"Look, Sam!! I got one!" Max squealed, showing his husband the floppy fish.
"Aw!" Sam smiled.
"Can we keep him! I wanna name him Trout!" Max looked down at the fish, smiling widely.
"Maybe after you tell me what sauce you want on your corn dog."
Max threw the fish back in the river, getting up from his knees before going over to the vendor next to Sam.
He glanced over the sauces before pointing at the "special sauce".
"What's that, Sam?"
The dog squinted at it, "Maybe it's filled with unseen foretold liquids and blended inedible thingamajigs to make something look as green as that!"
"I want it, I want it, I want it!!!" Max bounced on his feet excitedly and his hands stimmed uncontrollably.
"Oh, alright. Both corndogs with the special sauce, please!"
The corn dog vendor person lazily put the sauce on both corndogs and handed them to Sam. "That'll be $2."
"Hey, Sam, maybe later you want to swing by at the Zombie Factory?! I learned some new moves that'll definitely make you want to rip your eyes out!"
Sam took out cash, exchanged it with the food and handed one to Max before responding, "I don't know, Max. Is the Zombie Factory still around?"
"Don't know! That's why we gotta go later!" Max said, taking a bite out of the 'warm on the outside, cold on the inside' corn dog.
He glanced down at the corndog and back up at Sam, "That's good."
Sam took a bite too, his eyes lighting up. "Hell yeah, that is! Let's go show Girl Stinky and Grandpa Stinky! Maybe they'll add it to their menu!"
"Of non-nutritional foods that are definitely not cooked right and should be destroyed in a dumpster fire?"
"Yup!" The dog nodded, smiling widely before starting the walk back to Stinky's.
Girl Stinky was bent over the counter, texting rapidly to somebody.
While Grandpa Stinky was reading a cookbook.
Just kidding, he's growling at his granddaughter after telling her to clean the kitchen.
As in, to add more roaches in the "customer's" plates.
Sam and Max walked through the doorway, with Sam blurting out, "Hey, Stinky's!"
Girl Stinky immediately slammed her phone down and Grandpa Stinky gave them a dirty look.
Max ran up to the counter and waved his sauce-covered corn dog in front of the Stinky's, "Look! You have something new to sell now!"
Girl Stinky was immediately repulsed by it as she held her mouth and pinched her nose together, "Micks, what the hell even is that?!"
"Who's Micks?" Max craned his neck in confusion.
As Girl Stinky held her nose together, Grandpa Stinky almost vomited but swallowed it back down.
"What da hell is that!? Tryna give ol' Stinky an aneurysm, eh??" He gestured his hand angrily at Max.
"Well, we wanted to ask if you could try it, but trying to throw up from the sight of it is just plain rude." Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Get the hell out of my restaurant, ye sea-sick eating retches!"
And so they did.
They later ambushed the vendor person and demanded all the special sauce then used it to write on one of the empty rental buildings.
It said…
————————————
"S + M togetha 4eva"
With a doodle of each other holding guns at the world.
Max stared at it after noticing it from eating his corn dog.
It was his idea, since he openly admits to Sam that he makes his guts feel squishy.
Which resulted in, "You crack me up, little buddy!"
… fuck.
He hasn't heard that in so long.
And he's too scared to admit how much he wants to hear it again.
Max stared at the doodles before letting out a heavy breath, unaware that he's been holding in his breath.
He then walks back home.
There's no point facing reality when it already slapped you around silly like a pair of freelance police officers slapping around their criminal.
He keeps his head down during the rest of his walk with his hands behind his back, holding them together.
Once he went back inside the office building, he went up the stairs and faced their office door.
"SAM & MAX:
FREELANCE POLICE"
Max grumbled before grabbing the knob, twisting it open before realizing that he locked himself out.
"Fuck.." He whispered.
He looked around the building. Is there anybody else who will help him get inside?
…
No.
There isn't.
And there never will-
Oh, wait, there's a spare key under the mat.
When did they get an extra mat?
Doesn't matter. What matters is that he's going back inside the office.
So, then he took the key and unlocked the door, then closed it afterwards with a soft click.
Max slammed the key on his own desk, tapping the wooden surface with his paws.
He needs someone to talk to.
Someone to provide company.
He went to the closet, opening it to see all of the souvenirs from their prior cases.
So. Many. Good. Memories.
He sees the rotary phone sitting next to Leonard.
"Hey, Leonard…" Max says, quietly.
Leonard responded with a questionable muffle.
"Nothing's wrong, just.." Max shifted his eyes from the young teen to the phone.
"Can I get the phone, please?"
Leonard used his feet and kicked the phone off the shelf as Max catched it in his arms.
"Thanks." He closed the closet door and sat down on the floor, using the phone to call up Sybil.
After a minute or two of the line dialing, Sybil surprisingly picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Sybil!" Max laughed in relief.
It's actually her voice!
"Max! How have you been? It's been months and we haven't heard from you or Sam!"
The lagomorph felt his heart drop.
How will he tell Sybil that.. Sam isn't around anymore?
"W… Well… It's just that me and Sam have been busy with… with cases! Yeah!"
"Max."
"We just haven't had time to call you up and let you know that we're fine! Actually, lemme tell you about this recent one!"
"Max."
"Me and Sam went out to try to fight this oversized gorilla and let me tell you, he wanted to take over the world, funniest shit I've ever seen!"
"MAX."
"WHAT?!" He screeched, rudely interrupted.
"Sam didn't make it, did he? No matter how hard we all tried?"
…
Max heard himself breathe hard.
"Max… Listen… I'm sorry that this all happened. It wasn't supposed to go this way. I thought Sam would be safe if we removed that tumor, but…"
"But he wasn't, Max. And I wish I can return home to comfort you considering how I was a therapist."
Max remained silent as Sybil continued to reassure him.
Now he knows why he doesn't talk to anyone besides Sam.
Because nobody knows how awful this shit tears you up inside.
And only Sam understands that Max doesn't like to talk about his feelings.
"Max, are you listening?"
"Huh?" He returned from his thoughts, "What?"
Sybil sighed through the phone, "I said, maybe you can go ask Mrs. Bosco if she has a time machine. That's something you guys do, right?"
A… time machine?
"What will I do? Go back to an alternate dimension and see if Sam is alive then and return to my life like nothing has happened? Like my worries were just nothing?"
"Not exactly how I would put the last part, but yes. Maybe then you'll feel right at home."
Wait. That's actually a good idea.
Max feels a rush of excitement go through him, "Sybil, you're a genius!!"
"I know I am. I have a PhD in-"
"Yeah, gotta go now, bye!" The rabbit thing rushed through his words and hung up, getting up from the floor.
So, here's the plan. Go to an alternate dimension and find Sam!
How hard can it be?