Mulberry Pie

by Wyvern_of_Four_Legs

Summary:

Slimecicle and Badboyhalo having relationship issues, also it's the apocalypse.
They will still bake.
. . .
Purgatory was the main source for Slimehalo shippers, so I now must now write them in their natural habitat.

Chapter 1

His hands gripped the steering wheel. Deep breaths. He could do this. Slime took a glance at the online application he had printed out that was now seated in the passenger seat beside him. It looked back with its aura of menace and doom. He sighed, shut his eyes, and rested his head on the rim of the wheel. No… No, it didn't.

He thought back to his conversation with Flippa those weeks ago. He had sat down at the table after serving them both dinner, letting her at least eat some food before bringing up the question. He waited with his hands folded together before starting. “Hey, Flippa?” She looked up and he took a deep breath.

“Do you… think that I should get a job?” She put her fork down to think. He continued, “I know that I haven't had one for as long as you could remember, which is, um, probably why we live here.” The recent leak and bucket in the corner let itself be known with almost comedic timing. “And I'm going to be honest with you, I've been scared of not being there for you. But you're a big girl. And you're in school now, where you can call me whenever you need me. And I'll make sure to be there for you always, I will drop anything.”

Slime looked at his daughter, trying to read her. She was shocked, eyes widened. But beyond that, unreadable. Angry, joyful, scared? Nope, nothing. Then, he looked down as he fidgeted with his hands. “And maybe with me finally picking up some of the slack around here, your mama could be home more often instead of working so much overtime.” Her eyes shone at that.

But then she frowned. “Does this have to do with why we haven't gone back to Mr. Halo's?” He flinched at that. Shit, he was hoping she wouldn't have asked that. Thankfully, he had prepared just in case it came up. Still, it was hard to tell her. “You- you were- I had….” He paused, resetting himself. “I realized that you were right. I… I had been trying to replace your mother with- with him.” Ah, there. That he could read. Now, she was angry. “Which is why I've cut him off. I missed you, both of you, I've been at home by myself for too long. And with this job, I think we can finally start to be a family again. No more PTA meetings or spur of the moment house visits, it'll be just the three of us. Me, you, and your mom.”

Juanaflippa looked at him quietly, then got up from the table to walk over to him. Slime knelt down to meet her at eye level. She socked him in the arm with all the might that an angry second grader could muster, and then she hugged him with the very same ferocity. He exhaled a sigh of relief at the silent answer, he'd let her get away with the violence just this once. He deserved it. Slime hugged her back and stroked her hair, feeling his shirt soaken under her face. Once he felt her breathing even back out, he pulled away to clean off her face. “Ok, now let's go finish dinner. I've got an application and I think I'm gonna need your help.”

Slimecicle solemnly smiled at the memory, the paper no longer appearing so threatening. It was practically a little ‘do this for her’ for him, he chuckled at that. She was currently at home with Mariana. If he did this, he could be there, too. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Do this for her. He could do this. He stepped out of the car and into the entrance, passing by the red decorative balls.

The next ten to thirty minutes were a blur. He was friends with the manager's son, which was how he even got the job. He was introduced to a series of faces, some familiar and others not so much. Next thing he knew, he was shaking hands with Philza, who was welcoming him to the team.

Before Slimecicle could thank him, his radio clicked on. Kssh. “Hey, Phil. Yeah, looks like we got a spill on aisle 6. It's bad. Someone's got a serious stomach bug, by the looks of it. Must've completely emptied their- JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE FUCK!” A loud cacophony of swears, crashes, and screams pitched the microphone coming in through the other end of the transceiver. Up until it suddenly cut off and all that could be heard was the quiet static buzzing from the device.

Phil and Slime looked at each other in horror.

What.

The fuck.

Was that.

Chapter 2

Kshhh. Khoo.

Kshhh. Khoo.

Kshhh. Khoo.

The air hissed out of his mask as he breathed. He didn't need it or anything, the air quality was pretty much the same as it was before things went to shit and it was just a paint respirator, so it could only do so much if he did need it. But it made them all look cool, so the group voted on wearing them anyways. That and a red safety vest. To match their base camp.

Turns out those future team members were now the people Slime was going to fight the frickin’ zombie apocalypse with. Who woulda thunk it, huh?

That first month had been a nightmare, half of the staff was taken by that first wave of zombies, then by the ensuing mob of survivors that decided to ransack the place and kill anyone in their way. Or at least they tried to. Slime himself had gotten sprayed in the eyes and temporarily blinded by some kid with a can of air freshener before someone managed to rescue him. There was a reason half the team was still kicking. And not to say that he had any favorites… but he definitely had his favorites among them. One of which being Baghera, who he was currently paired up with on this mission.

“Ah!” Speaking of, he turned towards her as she removed her mask to wipe off the perspiration and condensation from her breath that was clouding up the lens. Now seemed like a good enough time to take a break, being in a pretty secluded alleyway and close enough to their destination anyway, so he followed in suit. Slimecicle blinked as he placed his now clear glasses back on. Oh right, that’s what the world looks like. Well, a little more ashy than it used to, but a lot clearer without the mask on.

“How, uh, much farther do you think, Slime? Before we get there?” He looked up at the buildings, mentally calculating the rest of their route. “Uh, I’d say a couple more minutes, we have to reach the street first to get to it. But it is that building right over there, so we’re close.” He pointed towards the faded reddish apartment complex. Baghera nodded, pulling her mask back up and trotting forward. Slime followed.

Upon reaching the street, the pair slowed down to a sneak, wary of any hostiles, living or otherwise. But, like the rest of their trip so far, everything was eerily quiet as far as one could see or hear. Playing it safe, they sprinted towards the building of interest, taking a sharp turn towards the alley instead of the main entrance. Slime let out a muffled “Shit.” The fire escape ladder was fully detached, now laying down on the ground and off to the side. They stood there for a bit, masks hanging loosely around their necks as they stared at it, contemplating their options.

Before he knew it, Slime found himself steadying the ladder as Baghera climbed up. It seemed like a bright idea at the time, but the further they got along, the very clear flaws in their plan began to show more and more. “Alright, Slime, your turn!” she called out, steadying the ladder for him from the top. He chuckled nervously, “Haha, yep, okay!” He took a deep breath, there was no other way, and began to climb.

Okay, this isn’t so bad. His pace quickened. Yeah, Baghera’s got a steady hold on this thing, she’s got him. He heard a quiet grating sound from below. That angle change is probably just his imagination from being up so high. “Slime!” He looked up, she looked worried, and looked back, the ladder was sliding across the asphalt from the angle. SHIT! SHIT FUCK SHIT! He sped up even more, his heart dropping as he saw Baghera struggling to pull the ladder back up as it instead pulled her down with it. When Slime got close enough, he jumped.

In a second, Baghera dropped the ladder to catch him. He dangled there for a moment as it landed with a loud, metallic clank. She pulled him up with a grunt, the both of them falling onto the grate to breathe once he was safe. They laid there, panting but otherwise quiet, until Baghera suddenly asked, “So, why didn’t we use the front door?” He gave an exhausted smile. “I’m gonna be honest with you, Baghera.” He paused to breathe. “I don’t know.”

They laughed and laid there for a little bit longer, before eventually helping each other up to continue their mission. They climbed up the stairs, slowing down and putting their masks back on when they reached their floor. The lock on the window has been broken for god knows how long, so they were easily able to sneak in. Slime went first, knowing the area better for potential hiding places and what they needed to get from where. It was darker than he was used to, but after living there for over a decade, you tend to memorize the layout.

He was helping Baghera in when he heard something shuffle down the hall. They paused and looked at each other. Slime motioned for her to wait and arm herself, then he grabbed the largest knife from the rack and stalked forward.

He almost walked past the intruder, thinking they were in his and Mariana’s room, when he heard a creak from Juanaflippa’s closet. His chest filled with dread and anger at the thought of someone ransacking his little girl’s room. Slime slowly pulled the door farther open from its previous crack, trying to identify the shadowy, slouched figure. He was having trouble figuring out where one limb ended and another one started as he watched them stuffing toys and blankets into their pack, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting.

They seemed formless, melting back into shadow with each movement taken. Or they could be wearing a cloak…

Slime gasped as he realized, alerting them to his presence. They turned, flicked out their all too familiar, excessively large pocket knife. He knew who this was, well not really but they had run into each other time and time again. They were a blight to his entire team, earning themselves many names: O Necromante, La Muerte, The Grim Reaper. One of the most dangerous forces to rise out of this apocalypse, to both the living and undead. A killing machine. They were there during the day of the ransacking, the day that he swore his revenge. He now raised his own blade towards them, silently declaring battle towards his sworn nemesis.

They glared back, he felt it, before dropping the hostility to tilt their head in confusion. Now confused himself, Slime looked down at his own weapon.

…He was holding a bread knife. Not the chef’s knife he was aiming for. He hissed out an exasperated sigh and muttered, “Goddamn it,” before the shadowy figure pounced. They rolled in a mess of limbs and fury, stopping when they hit the wall and knocked down a picture frame. The crash of glass on the floor did not stop their fight, however, as the dull end of Slime’s knife against their throat held them far away enough to not slash his. They stayed there, locked in position, until Slime kneed them in the gut.

Their flinch of pain gave him the chance to push them off and scoot away. He stood to run and grab a better weapon, but they recovered in enough time to grab him by the ankle and bring him back down onto the floor with them. He landed with one arm in the glass, crying out a hiss in pain and dropping his knife. They darted past him, back to the closet. He returned the favor by grabbing onto their ankle. They fell, too.

Before they could react, Slime jumped onto them to pin their arms onto the floor. He panted, grateful that it was his good arm securing his opposer’s blade away. Their stalemate was quick once again, as his enemy rammed the hard part of their skull into his mask, and therefore his nose. His hands instinctively reached up towards the wounded area and his eyes watered. The cloaked figure took this as an opportunity to elbow him off and away, crawling back to the closet and grabbing their pack.

There was too much blood and fog in his mask to see. Slime tore it off and threw it away, jumping up to face his opponent once again, who was also up and running out of the hall. He tackled them, though in his declining shape, they quickly got the upperhand. He found himself pinned under their straddle, one arm holding themselves up and the other hovering a knife over his heart.

They seemed to pause, panting as their eyes looked over his face. Their own was covered in a dark cloth, matching with their cloak. “Sl-” The knife flew out of their hand and their arms folded in towards their body. Both Slime and his foe turned to look towards the source of the projectile.

There stood Baghera, now standing tall, mask on, and wielding the chef’s knife. Almost in a singular swoosh, the cloaked figure picked up their spoils and ran out the door. Slime let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and rested his eyes. They’ll meet again, he’ll make sure of it.

Baghera inhaled a sympathetic hiss as she surveyed his wounds. “Sorry, Slime, my eyes needed to adjust. I didn’t want to hit you.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “Hey, it’s fine. I just wish that I was the one who grabbed the chef’s knife.” She noticeably relaxed at that, knowing that her friend was, for the most part, alright.

“Hey.” She hummed, waiting for his question. “What did you throw at them, anyways?”

“Oh,” she chuckled. “I was, um, too scared to throw the knife so instead, I threw this old brick that was on the fire escape.” Slime turned to his side to look. There, laying right beside his nemesis’ blade, was a dark, solid brick, with a clearly defined and familiar bite mark taken out of it.

Slimecicle cackled. “Holy shit! I thought I threw that out!”

Notes:

So... I haven't caught up on any lore since the prison arc cause I follow only one pov to be easy on myself, but apparently tubbo AND badboyhalo are canonically dead?! (at least for now) No, my story won't reflect that, but man, I feel like I'm falling behind.

Chapter 3

Notes:

tw for descriptive injury (blood & glass lacerations) in this chapter

Slime laid there for a bit, regaining himself, until Baghera managed to coax him into getting up before he could choke on his own blood. Now that the fight was over, the adrenaline was starting to wear off on him and the pain from rolling around in a pile of glass shards was starting to actually take effect. She pulled her friend up by his uninjured left arm and helped him shuffle his way over to the kitchen sink. Slime, fighting back the groans, said his thanks. He stood leaning over the basin, applying pressure to his nose and letting all the excess blood flow down the drain, as Baghera checked utilities.

He blinked in surprise adjustment when the lights flickered on, though they were noticeably dimmer than what they used to be. Huh, he'd probably have to ask Cellbit about that later.

After a moment of silence in his thoughts, a sharp inhale to his right side caught his attention. Slime removed his hand to check if the bleeding in his nose stopped, then turned towards Baghera. She placed both of their masks on the counter and ducked down to inspect his arm. He finally decided to take a look himself and had to bite back his own response of shock from the state of his forearm. The way he had initially landed had embedded the glass like teeth into his flesh, while the ensuing grapple clearly dragged them out and into the lacerations he now had. While the blood was concealing the worst of it, the bits of remaining glass that poked through as well as the gashes deep enough to show through their viscous cover were enough to make his face pale.

Baghera looked back up to him, concerned. “Do you have first aid? Or, em, tweezers?” He nodded. “First aid’s under the sink and there’s tweezers in the bathroom. In a nail kit.” She nodded back and crouched down to open the cupboard. He listened to the sound of bottles shuffling before getting startled by her swearing, “Nique sa mère!” Pinching it by the corner, she rose back up to a stand while holding out a soaked, questionably smelling, and stained red pouch that used to be the first aid kit. “Shit.”

There must have been a leak. She tossed it into the sink with disdain and stared in thought for a moment. “We need to hurry back to base.” Slime looked back to the closet. “But what about-”

“Slime.” They made eye contact. “We have to clean your arm. Then, we’ll come back, okay?” She put her hand on his shoulder, he sighed and nodded. She stared at him, seeing his remorse, before sighing herself. “We’ll take what we can. After we clean your arm.” Slime gave his friend a small smile and placed his hand atop hers. “Thanks, Baghera.”

They split ways momentarily, Slime made his way to the bathroom to locate the nail kit while Baghera remained in the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle. The pipes were probably still running in this area, but they weren’t going to be taking any chances on its quality. He had the tools and lighting all set up by the time Baghera arrived with the water. As she did the first rinse, he bit his tongue with a hiss. It stung, but the real pain came from actually seeing what lay under all the blood. The sickly pink and all too fleshy gashes glittered menacingly, as well as spurting once again as the older blood that had been starting to clot had been washed away.

Baghera began to pluck out the biggest shards of glass, dropping them into the sink basin with a clatter. The streams of blood practically doubled in size and speed as the obstructions were removed, which were then immediately absorbed into a towel to keep her working area clear. They repeated the process until they were sure that all the glass had been removed, then wrapped his arm in a second, cleaner towel as a makeshift bandage.

Slime thanked his friend once again for her help and they set off to make a quick sweep for anything they could carry. Baghera grabbed a trash bag to load as much as possible from Flippa’s room while Slime took the rest of the apartment. Other than his nemesis’ knife that he immediately went to pick up, he couldn’t really think of anything else of importance off the top of his head, but he decided to check anyways. That was until he made it into his own bedroom. Upon the nightstand, where he and his wife would place their rings each night, was one sole piece of silver. He picked it up.

Somewhere, out there, Mariana was wearing hers. With that, he pocketed his and made his way to meet up with Baghera in the hallway. She had the bag slung over her shoulder. “Ready?” He nodded, taking one last glance at the now empty room that was once his daughter’s. All that remained was her twin sized mattress.

“We take the stairs this time, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, we’ll take the actual stairs this time.”

Notes:

Woo boy, watch me struggle with writing accents :D
Also, a new chapter will be coming up soon as they were originally supposed to be one.

Chapter 4

The trip back to their base was much quicker than the one of their leaving, even with the added injury and luggage. The path now felt familiar.

Even so, the sun was beginning to set by the time they made it to the empty lot around their base. It was dangerous to be stuck out in the dark. Zombies, other people, or even just not being able to see their surroundings was a hazard. A small trip in this world could mean the difference between life and death. They sprinted towards the building with the large balls guarding the front of the now boarded up entrance and the red LED sign overhead, which had lost enough letters to only spell out the word “TA T”. It was the place they now called home.

The duo ran along the side of the building and towards the back entrance in the warehouse. They slowed down as they reached the door, preparing to give their secret knock. Slime, mask already down due to its current state, reached into his pocket and nodded to Baghera when he had what he needed. She knocked to the first measure of ‘Shave and a Haircut’ while he followed with the ‘two bits’ on the kazoo. The kazoo part was democratically voted along with the paint respirators and vests, the idea being thrown around after finding several packs in the party section, untouched. ‘Cause hey, who in their right mind would go walking around in the apocalypse with a kazoo?

Them. They would.

The lock clicked as the door was open, Foolish apparently being on guard duty today as he greeted them. “I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that,” he said as he grinned. “Hey Foolish, it's good to see you-” “Where's Phil?”

He chuckled, “It's good to see you guys, too.” He turned over his shoulder for a second to think, pointing in a vague direction behind himself. “Um, last I saw, I think I saw Phil with Jaiden in the cafe area talking about- Wow, you look like shit.” He cut himself off after turning back and finally taking in Slimecicle's state. Though the full condition of his arm was concealed enough by the towel, there was a good enough amount of blood caked to his skin and staining his clothes to lead him to agree that, yeah, he looked like shit. Hell, the blood was even beginning to soak through the towel, staining it a matching dark red.

He dryly laughed, “Ha ha, thanks man! Really making me feel good about myself! Can you please let us in before I pass out at the door and bleed to death?” Foolish nervously chuckled, sidestepped, and opened the door further. “Whoops, sorry about that, dude.” They walked in, Slimecicle beelining it straight for Phil while Baghera stayed back to chat. “So, what happened out there?” “Well, we made it to the apartment, but we got there and Slime got into a fight with…” Their conversation was too far away to listen in on from there, so he officially tuned it out and kept going. He knew the story anyway.

As he got closer to the front of the once store, he saw Philza and Jaiden conversing over drinks at one of the tiny setup tables in the miniature coffeeshop. Their voices were soft and somber, almost making him rethink on his decision of walking right up to them to announce his return.

“Hey guys.” Jaiden finished a sip from her coffee before responding, cup still raised to her mouth as she spoke. “Hey, Slime.” “Hey Sli- Jesus Christ! What did you do?!” Their democratically elected leader got up from his seat to inspect his wounded team member. “Oh, just ran into you-know-who, got into a you-know-what. You know, the usual,” Slime grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Philza made his way to his arm, making him flinch at the touch.

Phil sympathetically flinched with him. “Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” As gently as possible, he kept his hold and unwrapped the towel, which was beginning to stick to itself from coagulation. All three let out a hiss at the sight of the wounds, Jaiden getting up at this point to join them in a closer look. “These look pretty bad. What did you do, roll around in a pile of glass?” His joke was met with silence. “You didn’t… Slime, please tell me you didn’t-”

“In my defense,” he interrupted. “I was in the middle of battling my archnemesis when it happened.” Phil refuted, “Buddy. A nemesis is someone you’re on equal fighting grounds with. A bully is someone who routinely kicks your ass for the fun of it. Your ‘you-know-who’ is one hundred percent a fucking bully.” “Well, maybe to you they are, but I am going to defeat them one day. You'll see.”

Philza rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, and I’m sure you’ll tell me when that day comes.” He went back to inspecting the damage. “Seriously though, I don't know how we're going to fix this. Unless anyone's willing to make the trip to the hospital to pick up stitches, if they even still have them, we have no way-”

Jaiden took Slimecicle's wrist to inspect it herself. “These are shallow enough.” She looked over at Phil. “If we clean them properly, we can superglue the wound back together.” Slime’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Prior to when shit hit the fan, she had only been working here as a barista, so this knowledge seemingly came out of nowhere to him.

Philza, however, nodded along to her instructions and followed them up with a course of action, wrapping the towel back around the wound as he spoke. “Okay, I'll go get everything you'll need so you can clean it in the meantime.” She nodded back, “I'll see if we still have any hydrogen peroxide in the back,” and walked away, gently leading Slime to go with her down the aisles.

During the days of the ransacking, the toilet paper and canned goods were the first areas to be cleared out, surprisingly. Everyone was likely planning to take shelter and hide the worst of it out. When that didn't work out, apparently the next to go were the medication and first aid supplies.

Slimecicle warily eyed what was left of the pharmacy as they walked past. The aisles were all toppled over, multiple products spilled or trampled beneath them, now useless to anyone. A dried puddle of what he hoped to be old cherry cough syrup stained the floor. There was no hope in finding anything of use in there.

However, there was one place that was left basically untouched by the mobs.

The back.

Sure, people tried, but none succeeded. The members who defended it did so well that it ended up becoming a security bunker to hide in when the group lost enough numbers to no longer be able to defend themselves or the store.

Slime remembered being blindly led there, eyes squeezed shut and watering as they tried to clear out the chemical spray. He remembered rough, calloused hands guiding his through the audible chaos, only dropping them momentarily yet immediately being brought back when whatever issue was solved. He remembered blindly crouching low in a dark, muffled room with him, feeling puffs of his warm breaths blow against his skin. The crashing and yelling in the outside world was quickly becoming an afterthought to whomever he was sharing this moment with. “Thank you.”

“It's no problem,” he panted. “Would’ve done it for anyone.”

That part was true, he really would have done it for just about anyone. But despite that, Slime had never really gotten over that moment in those following weeks. No matter how many times his advances would get turned down. The same moment played through his head as he walked into the very room with Jaiden, seeing him there, searching amongst the boxes. She split off to search for medical supplies as he made his way over for small talk. “Hey, Cellbit.”

He pulled out a pack of nails and tossed it behind him. “Hey, Slime.”The plastic box landed into a cart with a pile of other tools and utensils, which was being maneuvered around by Leonarda and Richarlyson. “Hey, guys.” They nodded a friendly greeting back, despite the visible cringe at the sight of him that they were clearly trying to hide.

He always felt awkward around the resident kids of the base. Since most of the people here were at work when it happened, very few had their kids along with them. However, these two had managed to survive the waves or be found and brought back to the base when it was safe. Slime was glad for their well-being, don't get him wrong, but they seemed to only serve as a reminder to his own daughter who was still out there somewhere. He always made sure to be nice, they were kids after all, but still avoided them whenever possible.

“Soo…” He rocked back on his heels. “What've you guys been up to today?”

“Cleaning.” “Fixing.” “Sorting.” He nodded along to them, before turning as Cellbit walked over. “Carre went out to get more supplies. When he gets back, we'll be reinforcing the barrier.” He stopped in his tracks to look Slimecicle up and down, noticeably shocked. “So… what happened to you?”

“Oh, this?” He pointed to his right arm, pressed against his chest. “You should see the other guy.” Cellbit raised his eyebrow knowingly. “Unscathed?” Slime smiled and breathlessly huffed, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Can you two stop flirting and help me with this box over here?” Jaiden called from a step ladder on the other side of the room, balancing a large box precariously along the shelf ledge. Cellbit rushed forward to take the other side and help her bring it down as Slimecicle watched with the kids on the side. When it was secure on the ground, he brushed a white strand of hair out of his face and said, “Surprisingly, no flirting today.”

Slime and Jaiden were equally shocked at that announcement, his good hand immediately falling towards his pocket as it registered to him. Jaiden leaned on her elbow against the box. “Wow, never thought I'd hear that before. What happened, Slime? Did La Muerte finally knock some sense into you this time?” Three heads popped up at the namedrop, not knowing that detail yet.

Slime felt the heat rise into his face with all their eyes falling onto him. He folded his arms over his chest, or at least the closest he could do without hurting himself, and retorted, “I don't like how low you think of me, Jaiden. I can take a hint.” He was met with shared looks of skepticism. “It may also have to do with blood loss, so don't get your hopes up,” he joked, hoping they wouldn't ask any further and leave it at that.

Thankfully, they pretty much just rolled their eyes in amusement, otherwise seemingly content with his answer, and continued to rummage through the box. He let out the quiet breath he was holding and watched their search from over their shoulders.

“Here we go!” Jaiden loudly announced, her hand shooting up with the dark brown plastic bottle and spooking Slimecicle into a step back. As she got up, she said, “Thanks, guys, I'll come back to help once we're done with this.” Cellbit stood and brushed his pants off. “No problem, see you then.” “Bye, Slime, good luck with your arm!”

He nodded down, “Thanks, kids,” before turning and whispering to Cellbit, “Hey, can I ask you something?” He glanced down at the kids before nodding and walking over to the corner, ready to discuss whatever it was in private. Slime motioned to Jaiden that this will just take a minute and followed.

“Alright, so you're the most tech savvy person we got here, right?” Cellbit thought it over for a second, finger under his nose, then replied, “I guess you could say that.”

Slime pointed up. “The lights. I noticed they were dimmer out there today. Is that an area issue or, like, something serious we're gonna have to deal with pretty soon?” Cellbit's hand went back up to his face as he thought it over. “My best guess would be the power plants. With nobody there, they've gotta wear down eventually. I'll see what I can do here. Thank you for telling me, Slime.”

“Nah, man, thank you,” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. It sat there awkwardly for a second, as he was unsure on what movement to make next. He settled for a stiff but friendly pat before quickly turning with an “Alright, cya,” and followed Jaiden out the door.

Notes:

Sorry, I accidentally lied. I thought I would have finished this before going on my trip to see the eclipse. Two weeks later, I'm back home with 1½ more chapters written. I'd finish and post the next one too, but I have a midterm later today and really do need to study. Wish me luck, guys!

Chapter 5

The genders on the bathroom signs didn't matter anymore, everyone here all knew each other and the majority of them had already been stolen anyway, for whatever reason. And hey, better people's time spent on the useless shapes nailed to the doors than taking anything actually important, right?

Jaiden and Slimecicle made their way back to the front, entering the first door available down the restroom hallway. She immediately set to work, setting the bottle down on the sink counter and going over to collect the paper towel roll that was previously set up on top of the dispenser. Slime unwrapped his arm and positioned it over the sink, beginning to regret not bringing a stool or something. It was too low to stand and too high to sit, so he would be stuck kneeling for however long this took.

Jaiden crouched down alongside him at eye level, almost in an even more uncomfortable looking position to account for her height. She passed the roll for him to hold as she washed her hands, gently maneuvering his arm to the side and out of the way to test the water. Once deemed clean, she plunged her hands under the stream and scrubbed, soap lathering in the motion.

“Ready?” She asked, one hand now cupped to collect water. Slime nodded, giving her his wrist to take. She eased him to the temperature by splashing him before fully pulling him under. “Ah-” he hissed and flinched, the water was cold. Jaiden softly scrubbed at the excess blood surrounding the wounds.

“Baghera helped you, right?” He nodded and she nodded back. “She did a good job of cleaning the glass. I'm guessing you guys couldn't find a first aid kit, though.” He shook his head. She grinned sympathetically at that and continued. They stayed in silence for a brief period of time before he decided to try and make conversation. “Hey, uh- Jaiden?” She hummed, waiting for him to finish his question. “If you don't mind me asking, how'd you know all this stuff?”

She froze.

Shit, sore point. Slime immediately started backtracking, “I'm sorry, you don't have to if you don't want to! You just seemed to know a lot about this and I-” Jaiden cut him off by putting her hand on his upper arm. “Hey, it’s fine. I just wasn't expecting it.” She went back to rinsing off his arm as she explained, “My son was quite the adventurous kid. Always getting into things he shouldn't and sometimes hurting himself because of it.” She softly chuckled at the memory. “Couldn't afford to take him to the doctor every time he cut his knee on something, so I learned to take care of it myself.”

She turned off the water and looked away, her gaze going distant and watery. “I was talking to Phil about him earlier. I haven't seen him since… everything. He's got his other parent with him but-” She cut herself off to quickly rub at her eyes, then sighed, “I just hope they're alright.”

“Hey.” Slime rubbed her arm, trying to comfort his friend. “I'm sure they are.” He paused, before sharing, “You know, I have a little girl out there, too. And I just know we'll find them.” He raised up his pinky. “I promise.” She sadly smiled at the notion, it almost seemed silly, then raised her own hand to meet his. “Promise.” They shook on it.

Jaiden blew out a breath of air and got up to stretch. “Alright, emotional moment's over, now it's time for the hard part.” Slimecicle got up as well, ripping off a sheet of the paper to dry himself off with. “The hard part?” She held up the hydrogen peroxide bottle. “Ah, right. The hard part.”

By the time Phil made it to the bathroom with a supplies filled red basket, Slime was keeled over the sink in pain and white-knuckling the basin. His voice was high and strained as he raised his head to greet, “Ohheyphil, howzit going?”

“Better than you, it seems, mate,” he joked. Slime responded with a weak thumbs up as he dropped his head. “‘Zall part a the healin’ process, man.”

“Oh, good.” He continued to Jaiden, “Thankfully, I found the glue and the towels. However, I didn't really know what we're supposed to wrap it with, since we don't have bandages anymore. I found these in the sanitary products.” Jaiden stopped him from even pulling out the box with her hand. “Phil, no.” He continued, “We could just turn the sticky side out and wrap-”

“Philza. No.”

He shrugged and dropped the subject. “Alright. Only other things I could find were these socks we could trim the feet off of and this scarf.” Jaiden nodded as she inspected the bubbling on the wound. “Scarf will do.” Deeming it clean, she turned the faucet back on to rinse the chemical out. Slime relaxed as the stinging, burning sensation on his arm washed away in the cool water.

Phil passed her a towel, Jaiden dabbed at the wound with it. Slime watched as it came back up stained red with each compression, before getting it passed to him as she and Phil prepared the superglue. He avoided looking into the lacerations too intently as he brushed his arm hair out of the way, it definitely looked worse than it felt at this point.

Jaiden walked back over and Slime gave his arm back to her. “Okay, buddy, we're almost done.” She pinched the skin on the first cut together as Phil walked over with the glue. Both of their hands were firm and steady, the cut glued over with near surgical precision. It was still painful, but he made sure to stand as still as possible for them to work. She held it in position long enough for the wound to properly dry, then moved onto the next one. Once all the cuts were sealed, the arm was wrapped in a green scarf to prevent the glue from being rubbed off. “Oh yay, my favorite color,” he somewhat deliriously beamed. “Thanks, guys.” They nodded back. “Just make sure to get some rest, alright?” He nodded back. All three exited to restroom to go their separate ways at that.

While Philza and Jaiden went back to the front to continue where they left off, Slimecicle retired to the group’s designated rest area. Good news, the apocalypse does not appear to have any shortages on beanbags, after all the pillows, sleeping bags, and mats were ransacked. Bad news…

Christ, he would kill for any form of spinal support, his back was killing him.

Next to his beanbag, left there for him by Baghera, was the bag of Juanaflippa’s things. The sight of his so-called ‘bed’, though uncomfortable, made him feel tired enough to push inventory check off until the morning. As he fell into the squishy plastic, he decided to add clothing change right next to it on that list. He blindly took off his glasses, kicked off his shoes, and reached into the bag for the closest blanket to the top. It was small, barely covering his knees, but it was home. He fell asleep to a well-worn loop of memories. The apartment. Birthdays. Playdates. Homework. Those nights of the fire escape. His mind began to fade to black after he hit baking.

. . .

Slimecicle wasn’t exactly startled awake, but it didn’t really feel peaceful either. The room was dark and silent, meaning just about everyone else was asleep by now as well. He looked to his side to see Baghera sleeping as comfortably as one could on a beanbag armchair, which consists of laying at an angle while your neck bends in a way that will definitely hurt by the morning. Surrounding them were the rest of their friends, all quiet, shadowy lumps as they slept. Everything looked peaceful.

Slime, on the other hand, did not feel like going back to sleep. He decided to get a headstart on the day and tiptoed around his teammates. FIrst objective on the list consisted of new clothes, a towel, soap, and the hose in the outdoor garden section. The sun still hadn’t risen by the time he finished, even with him having to figure out how to not wash off the glue on his arm, so he moved on to Juanaflippa inventory.

He dragged the plastic bag away as silently as he could, the blanket draped over his shoulders, until he reached one of the bathrooms. The lights were automatic in here, so he didn’t need to go searching for the flashlights. As he emptied the bag, he folded and sorted the objects into different categories. The main four were bedding, clothes, books, and toys. While his cloaked rival had taken a noticeable amount of things, Slime felt proud of what he and Baghera had managed to rescue from them.

He was wadding up the bag to throw away, surveying what he did have, when a realization stopped him in his tracks. It’s not here. He felt for it in the bag, then began to tear through it as he panicked. He rummaged through the piles in case it was misplaced. Shit! It wasn’t here!

That could only mean one thing. He dropped everything and ran out of the bathroom to the beanbags, stopping at Baghera to shake her awake and hissed, “Baghera! Baghera, they took the gun!”

Notes:

Midterm finished. Cs get degrees, am I right? Haha- oh man, I needed a break after that.
Anyway, guess who went to class to learn about EMT blood & trauma treatment RIGHT AFTER they finished writing literally all the parts about it: this guy right here.
I do advise seeking trained medical attention before doing what was done in this story, this is a last resort kind of situation. These characters DID NOT go to medical school (or an EMT college course).

Chapter 6

Baghera was startled awake, almost yelling before Slimecicle covered her mouth with his hand. Her muffled yelling quieted down as her eyes indicated fear transforming into confusion and maybe even a hint of tired resentment at his method of choice. She pushed his hand aside to whisper, “What?”

Slime led her back to the bathroom where they were able to talk at a normal volume. “I checked, double and triple, but it’s not here! That no good, cloaked, stealing son of a bitch must have taken it!” He was rummaging around the piles in one last desperate attempt to find the missing item. Baghera stood over him, still confused and trying to process what was going on. “I’m sorry… You said gun? In your daughter’s room??”

He paused, then realizing the misunderstanding, stood immediately to defend himself. “Not a real gun! It’s, um, kinda hard to explain.” Baghera signaled ‘go ahead’ with her palm up and Slime tried to put his words together. “My wife, Mariana, used to smoke back when I first met him. Not a whole lot, but enough to carry a lighter around. And I don’t know if it was from a carnival or a gas station or something, but it was one of those pistol-shaped ones where you pull the trigger and the flame comes out.” He mimed out the motion for Baghera before continuing.

“But when we had Juanaflippa, we both agreed that he shouldn’t be smoking around her. He was able to quit over time, but that lighter still stuck around. Kids’ll be kids, it was shiny and dangerous, so Flippa was just obsessed with it. And when her mom stopped coming home as often…” He trailed off seeing Baghera’s sympathetic nodding, as strained as it was. She repeated back what she understood. “So, you gave your child a lighter?”

“Only after I emptied it out! I mean, at least until her fifteenth birthday, I promised her that much. It seemed fair at the time.” Baghera huffed a small sigh of relief. “Whew, okay, that is not so bad.” He nodded, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m glad you understand. Which is why we are going to go and get it back.”

Slime let go to drop down and gather up what he did have of his daughter’s things before she could respond. “What?” He seemed to be half-heartedly mourning the torn-up trash bag that he was currently stacking the books and toys onto when Baghera dropped down to reach his eye level. “Slime, we cannot do that. Your arm-” He scooped up the load in his arms, holding back from flinching to prove his point, and pushed open the door with his back. He loudly whispered, “Baghera, look at me, I’m fine. But I need that gun. And I didn’t want to say this, but I will be going. With or without you.”

He walked out, leaving Baghera to contemplate her options. Sure, he felt bad, he was really putting his friend into a tight spot here, but Slimecicle was desperate to get that lighter back. The rest of the base was still dormant by the time he made it back to the sleeping area to drop everything off. He arranged everything as out of the way as possible to avoid a tripping hazard, then got up and turned around to get the rest of his stuff. He nearly bumped into Baghera, who was carrying it. “I’ll do it.”

Slime’s entire body relaxed at that, hugging her the moment the clothing and blankets were dropped onto his bean bag. “Thank you.” She hugged him back before pulling away with a smirk. “You will owe me for this.” He grinned back. “Oh, I know.”

Notes:

Woo, big chapter coming up next! It was originally going to be one, but there's a mini time skip so I thought I'd might as well just split them up.
Now, I'm not going to be saying any dates here, but I'm hoping that I'll be uploading it soon. *fingers crossed*

Chapter 7

Packing up and sneaking out weas easier than either of them had expected, almost everything that could've been useful was already taken, after all. Getting past Cellbit, who was wrapping up on his turn for guard duty that night, was also relatively simple. Sure, it was a bit hard to come up with a reasonable explanation for the tiki torch, but his job was more focused on preventing anyone from getting in, so he couldn’t really stop them if he tried. And thus, they were allowed out on their ‘walk’.

The moment they actually got out of the base was when the issues began to come up. The sun had yet to show any signs of actually rising, so they were faced with going out into the pitch black night. As terrifying as the dark was, taking out any kind of light to see was basically a death sentence. Not only are you blinding yourself from anything outside the light’s range, anyone or thing else that can see you will also know it. Instead, they had to rely on the rods of their eyes and just pray that whatever’s out there, they’ll see it first.

Baghera followed Slime, he seemed to have some form of an idea thought out. She was just here to make sure that her friend didn’t get himself killed. Although, as the sky was slowly brightening into a dark bluish gray, the route began to feel familiar. They did have to take more frequent and spontaneous stops to avoid the noticeably more active zombies, but this was clearly the same direction they had gone the day prior.

Taking what they learned from yesterday, they made sure to go through the front door once they reached the building this time. Without the stars overhead inside, it was even darker than when they first set out. “Up to the roof,” Slime whispered. Baghera nodded and took the lead, prepared to use the tiki torch to knock out anything they might encounter on their way up the stairs. Slimecicle took the rear, wielding the Grim Reaper’s knife and watching for anything that could sneak up on them.

By the fourth floor, however, his guard was completely down. He had put the knife away to hold up his right arm, which had begun to burn in irritation, yet somehow also felt cold. Slime was rubbing feeling back into the less tender areas of his forearm when Baghera gave a swift cry out in front of him. He looked up just in time to dodge the zombie who, after taking a Sparta-like blow to the chest, was tumbling down the stairs. It twitched on the landing for a bit, then stilled completely. The duo stood, contemplating their options after waiting out its potential recovery time. “...Should we-”

“Yes.”

They retrieved the limp body to drag over and into a supply closet, locking it in incase it happened to wake up to seek revenge at any point. Better to be safe than sorry.

By the time they reached the roof, the color pink was beginning to bleed into the sky and declare the morning. “Shit,” Slime mumbled, hoping that it wasn't too late. He traded Baghera the knife for the torch, racing to light it before the sun came out. All the good lighters and blow torches were long gone, so all he had left to use was one of those cheap BICs that sat around check-out. Thankfully, it still seemed to get the job done after enough tries. He planted the signal into a rather convenient but now thoroughly dead rooftop garden. All they had to do was wait.

So they waited.

And they waited.

Slime looked up to the torch from where he lay, it was still burning despite the sky behind it getting closer and closer to blue. He sighed, hoping that his cloaked nemesis was able to catch the signal before it got too bright out to notice. Still, at some point, they were gonna just have to just cut their losses. “Hey, Baghera-”

“Slime!” She hissed out, interrupting his train of thought and motioning him over. He quickly got up to see what it was, running over to the ledge where she crouched. He peeked over it, as she was doing, to see a dark figure running through the alleyway. They watched as it darted up to and into the building where they were waiting. Bingo.

He stepped back to stretch himself out. They had the chance to actually prepare themselves this time, so they might as well use it. As they began to hear the steps, he asked Baghera, “You ready?” She looked back at him silently, mask already up. “Me neither, let’s do it.”

Their cloaked enemy burst through the door, stopping at the sight of the duo ready and waiting. “Listen here- oh, man, do you need to catch your breath?” They nodded as they breathlessly leaned forward, gasping and holding up a finger asking to be given a minute. Slime relaxed. “It's okay, take your time.” They gave him a thumbs up back in thanks. It was funny. Taken out by six floors of steps. For once, they seemed… almost human. But just as quickly as the thought had come, it vanished as Slimecicle remembered what they were here to do. What THEY had done to him. How many times was he screwed over, were his friends screwed over? He grimaced, any mercy that could’ve been given was now gone. “Time’s up.”

He withdrew the Grim Reaper’s blade, whose true owner now stood shocked at the opposite end of their usual placement. Slime declared, “You’ve stolen from me. You’ve stolen from me more times than I can even count! But your last little thievery has taken it one step too far. And now, I will give you two options. You can either surrender now and return the lighter to me, or we fight and I will fucking kill you. Right here, right now. The choice is yours.”

They stood there, panting, clearly having run all the way here from whatever hell they called home. But somehow, they remained as silent as ever. He watched as they reached into their cloak. Whatever it was, it was shiny, but way too heavy to be the lighter.

Fight it was, then.

Slimecicle threw the knife. Shit, it was off. Why did it have to be his right arm that was wounded?! As his opponent was distracted, watching the weapon sail past through the air, he tackled them. Whatever was pulled out dropped to the floor with a somewhat hollow, metallic clank. He didn't look back to check. They landed back with a grunt, but neither fell hard enough to knock the wind out of themselves. However, Slime’s hurt arm buckled under his own weight when he pushed to get up and he fell to the side.

They were quick to take advantage of it, pulling Slime up by the shirt and pinning him to the stairwell door. He winced at the impact, more from the sound than any actual pain. Their grip was tight, but he could feel their hands shaking with each heavy respiration. However, even when out of breath, his nemesis’ presence seemed to tower above him.

Suddenly, Baghera was there, pulling them back by barring the torch staff over their chest. Slimecicle was let go in favor of pushing back, trying to free themselves. He got up, watching Baghera struggle to keep them there. Shit, he had to help her. Slime was looking around for something, anything that could be used as a weapon, when he spotted a glimmer. The knife!

He made a run for it, but not without attracting the other’s attention in the process. They made one final shove on the torch before ducking down, causing Baghera to pull back too hard and knock herself off balance. They bolted after him, grasping the knife just milliseconds after Slime. Their fingers interlocked over the handle as they grappled, the danger of the blade between them almost forgotten in the fight.

Baghera was quick to jump back in, crossing her arms around the Grim Reaper’s neck to pry them away. They refused to budge, instead choosing to stomp on her foot and elbow her away. Oh, fuck this guy!

Slimecicle, somehow even more enraged, jerked the knife back using all his might, pulling his adversary off-center with it and towards him. As they both fell, he realized just how compromising a position this was. Someone was gonna get stabbed. His eyes shut, accepting his fate and braced for impact. He cringed when his head hit the pavement and laid there, waiting to either bleed out or feel the limp body of his opponent flop onto him.

“Slime!” As quiet and hoarse as it was, he knew the sound of that voice. But it couldn't be…

He opened his eyes. Their hand, pushing against his chest, blocked the blade he was now fully holding from penetrating his own heart. He could feel the steady drip of blood pooling into his shirt because from the sacrifice. Their- his cloak had fallen and he could now recognize the gaze that looked back. The rest of his face may have been covered by a dark cloth wrapping, but he'd recognize those pale eyes from anywhere.

They had laughed with him. They had laughed at him. But, in his fondest memories, they had stared back silently. Studying him.

“Bad?”

Notes:

Thank god, I was almost feeling like I was l leading you guys on for a bit there. But here he is, the other half of the slowburn! Officially!
Fighting choreography is hard.
Let's see, updates... well, I'm officially trained to apply as an EMT now, so that's cool. I still need to actually register, but eh, we'll get there when we get there. I don't even know if that's my goal still. But hey, medical school is expensive.
My grandmother also had internal bleeding, that, too, is expensive. She's fine now, thankfully.

Chapter 8

“Bad!”

“Baghera?!” Bad's voice dryly cracked as he pushed himself up and ran to her, abandoning Slime on the ground, who was left to process everything that was happening all on his own. The latter shakily tossed aside the knife to touch at his chest, the lack of agonizing pain thoroughly confusing him still. All he felt, however, was the quiet, stinging scratch on his chest where he had merely been grazed.

Baghera threw off her mask and the two fell into a firm hug. Then, she pulled away to sock him in the shoulder. “You hit me!” She continued to chew him out on the many ways he wronged them in a manner that slowly transitioned into angry French the further it went on. He awkwardly rubbed at the hit area with an apologetic look in his eyes as she finally caught her breath and rubbed away the tears falling down her cheeks. “I… I thought you were gone…”

Bad sighed solemnly, loosening his cloth wrappings to fall around his neck and show his face, before raising his closed fist and rubbing it in a circle over his heart. Baghera glared at him for a second until giving in, groaning, “Argh, it is hard to stay mad at you!” She hugged him again and sighed, “I am just glad you're okay.” He hugged her back, any remaining fear or anger towards each other had thoroughly dissipated.

“Okay, okay, sorry to break up a happy reunion, but YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?!” Slimecicle had finally gotten up from where he was left, dusting away the dirt he had gathered from the fall. His teammate rushed over to help him brush off and inspect him for any worsened injuries while the face he had never thought he'd see again walked away to go pick back up whatever he had dropped. Slime watched as he messed with the top area until he brought up to his mouth- Oh, it was a water bottle. Man, now he kinda felt like a dick…

“Badboyhalo and I go way back, we would help each other with parenting and- Wait, you know him, too?!” Slime laughed bitterly, making sure to lay it on thick just so their secretly mutual friend would know exactly how he felt about it. No matter how much of a dick he may have felt for that split second, he was NOT going to let what had been his nemesis for the past several months off the hook that easily. “Oh yeah, me and Bad go back, too. It sure is a shame that we couldn't be introduced before the freaking world had to end, though.” Bad glared back, matching his energy after hydrating and finally reclaiming in his full voice, “Oh, I'M sorry, I didn't know that I had to introduce YOU to all of my friends!”

“Well, you should've!” Bad almost looked offended, his hand hovering over his chest as the two seemed to be gravitating towards each other with each rebuttal. “Oh, yeah? And I take it that you didn't have any friends to introduce me to, or you would have otherwise.” The almost sick pleasure he got from arguing died instantly with those words. He didn't let it show, though, and laughed out, “Of course I have other friends, like… Quackity…” Bad seemed to falter at that as well. “...One of our kids’ old teachers? Slime, do you seriously not have any-”

“He's my neighbor, okay? I don’t get out much! And hey, not everyone can be Ms. Queen Bee of the PTA and just make friends like that!” he snapped, with both his mouth and his hand. They were practically in each other's faces now. “You know, maybe you wouldn't have such trouble making friends if you didn't just leave half a pie on their doorstep with a sticky note saying ‘sorry g-t-g frowny face’ and just disappearing off the face of the earth instead of actually talking out your issues, like a freaking muffinhead!”

Slime didn’t even blink at the straight-faced use of the word ‘muffinhead’, stuck an accusatory finger in Bad's face, and snarled, “I had a damn good reason for doing that and if you don't-”

Baghera butt herself in to stop anything from escalating. “Ok, I think we need break, yes? Like goldfish, we swim around the bowl and forget. Well, not actually like goldfish, goldfish have pretty good memories actually, but like the joke, you know? We swim and forget, yes?” She motioned a circle with her finger and repeated the pattern in her steps every time she said the word ‘swim’. Her efforts seemed to melt away the tension and were even followed on the third spin, albeit somewhat halfheartedly. And yes, maybe it was childish, but it worked on them just as well as it worked on kids. Sometimes it just takes the simpler ways to get things done.

After about one or two spins as a group, everyone was calm enough to restart the conversation. “We're good now? Okay, Slime, go watch for anyone else coming. Bad and I need to take care of some things.” He huffed and nodded, walking back over to the ledge to stand. He made sure to pick up the Grim- no, Bad's knife on his way. Slime knew the face behind the hood now.

He was definitely watching down below and NOT the pair behind him as he mindlessly cleaned the weapon on his shirt. Hey, if he doesn’t ask for it back, might as well keep it for himself, right? Across the way, Baghera seemed to be wrapping his left hand in the cloth that was previously used to cover his face. Slimecicle looked back down at the knife, stopping mid-wipe. It finally clicked. Bad really did that for him, huh? Even after the whole sticky note thing, he made sure to spare him the moment he was recognized.

Ok, maybe those standards seemed low, but when you're talking about the guy who'd been trying to kill you for the past several months, that truly felt like a real 180° on his character. The least he deserved was an apology…

A pair arms suddenly wrapping around his torso broke him out of his thoughts. “Ah! Baghera, what-” Through what felt to be tears on his back, her voice broke as she whispered, “My children are alive, Slime. They're alright…” He felt his own eyes water at the news and he brought his left arm up to hug her in the only way they could in this position. “Baghera, I'm so happy for you.”

He felt her rest her head atop his shoulder. “I know…” Her voice lowered to the point where it became airy, “I’m going to go see them.”

Slimecicle hesitated on his words for a second, then patted her on the arm and cheerfully whispered, “Alright, I’ll make sure to tell the gang. It’ll be a bit difficult to explain what happened here, but I’m sure-” Her grip tightened, making him pause. “So, Slime… Remember when I said you owed me?”

He turned to look at her. Baghera’s face was still clearly raw from the revelation, yet somehow still managed to hold a smug smile that had ‘blackmail’ written all over it. She tilted her head to point at Bad, who was waiting by the stairwell for them. Almost as if to rub it in his face, he gave a bubbly wave the moment their eyes connected. Slime glanced back at his friend, baffled. “Please?”

Looks like he didn’t have a choice. “Oh, goddammit…”

Notes:

Hey guys, later than I meant to update. Not trying to say it out loud and curse myself, but I've been aiming for at least one chapter every month. Lesson learned, class and family vacation time DO NOT mix well. Never going to apply for a history class during the summer again. Literally, I have all my credentials there now.
Update: Registered AND passed my national exam, so one step closer to getting a job! Yippee.

. . .I also may or may not have reread the entirety of the civil war arc from the ask-spiderpool tumblr blog for a third time instead of writing at some point, that's on me. Even if it was already August, that was pure procrastination right there. My bad. (I also think that some of deadpool & wolverine may have bled into my writing, particularly the argument.)

Chapter 9

The trio carefully walked down the streets, Badboyhalo and Baghera were leading together, continuing to catch up on each other’s lives since they last saw each other, while Slime took up the rear. Again.

He wasn’t moping. Nope. How dare you accuse him of such a thing. He also wasn’t really brooding, either, not dark and menacing enough for that. Angsting is for moody teenagers and he was a grown ass man, so it couldn’t be that.

He was just a guy… sitting in his thoughts….. alone…….

. . .

Man, was it quiet out today.

His brain kept circling back to Bad and the apology he owed him. Christ, just because he knew what he was supposed to do didn’t make it any easier to actually do it. How would he even start? ‘Hey, man, so sorry for ghosting you back then. Yeah, so I had just remembered the fact that I am still very much married. No, no, it’s fine. It’d just be some minor legal trouble and then watching the light leave my daughter’s eyes as she loses all her faith in me for the rest of our lives. No big deal or anything. Anyway, you free next Tuesday?’

Slime shook his head at the imaginary conversation and sighed. Shit, that’d never work.

“You know, he told me a lot about you.” He jumped at Baghera’s voice, being too lost in his thoughts to have noticed the moment where the conversation ahead of him dropped and she had fallen back to walk with him. Then, he paused as he processed what she said. “He did?” She nodded. “He never said your name or anything, but Bad would tell me ALL about his new ‘baking buddy’. Your jokes, your food. He really liked you, Slime.” His eyes narrowed in confusion at the use of quotation marks, but decided against asking about it in favor of turning back and looking forwards towards Bad, who was scanning just about every direction other than back as they walked. “Did he now?”

Baghera shifted her gaze towards the man in question before humming in confirmation. “Mhm.” Slime felt the slightest of smirks make its way onto his face as he thought about it. The picture of the former PTA’s head honcho getting giddy about HIM of all people. That felt… Well, he didn’t want to be smug about it, but damn, it felt good. He closed his eyes to momentarily bask in his own pride from it.

“Hey, Slime?” He felt an arm slide over his shoulder and he looked back at her, questioningly. “Can you promise me something?” Physically, she was being incredibly casual. But the question itself hung heavily in the air, threatening to drop some serious weight into the conversation. “Anything,” he said with a smile, fully meaning it.

“If this works out, would you help me find a girlfriend? I’m sick of just listening to you guys flirting with each other back at the base.”

Slime’s face froze at the direction this, at least what he had assumed to be, heart-to-heart had taken. His eyebrows were raised and his grin stayed out of pure shock. “Sorry, if what works out-” His inquiry was interrupted as Baghera firmly shoved him forward. He wobbled in his steps, arms held out in order to catch himself. Slime managed to steady into a standstill, but not without garnering someone’s attention. “You okay, Slime?” Bad asked, offering out a hand.

He held his palms out in a stopping motion. “Yep!” he said, a bit louder than he had meant to. “All good, all good.” They both continued walking, Slime sneaking a look back at Baghera as he found himself unable to slow into his original position. She winked at him while giving an ‘OK’ symbol with her hand, clearly intending this to be some form of wingmanning. Oh-ho-ho-ho! If they made it back to their base alive, he was going to kill her. Most likely with a pillow. In her sleep. He pointed at her, slid a hand across his throat, and mouthed ‘You’re dead.” She responded by waving either a Spiderman or rockstar hand and, if his lip-reading was correct, a silent ‘I love you, too!’

“So, where have you guys been camping out this whole time?” Badboyhalo’s question distracted him from threatening Baghera any further. “Oh, uh, just the old Target on Oak and Main. I had kinda just gotten hired there right when this whole thing started.” Slime played with the collar of his shirt and awkwardly chuckled as he admitted it.

“...Ah.” An appropriate reaction, he considered, as they both reminisced of the things that happened during the raids from two VASTLY different perspectives. “I- I hadn’t, um, you know… We didn’t run into each other that day, did we?” Slime affectionately smiled at the nervousness that he usually didn’t see from him and shook his head. “Nah, some kid blinded me with a can of air freshener and I had to be dragged into the back before you got there.” He decided to omit his declaration of vengeance that followed in the aftermath, at least for now.

“You probably did see Bahera, though. She was the one who first started using the paint respirator masks and it kinda spread from there.” Bad paused, likely trying to search his memories for Baghera in a mask, before his eyebrows shot up. “You mean she was the one with the hairspray and the lighter-”

“Yup. It was either that or the chainsaw, she said, and we couldn’t exactly make the trip to Lowe’s right that second. Probably a miracle we didn’t have to relocate from collateral damage.” Bad turned his head to look at the woman in question, Slime copied. She was peacefully looking about, her eyes tracking a flock of birds that were currently flying overhead. It was pretty hard to believe that those two were the same person. As he looked back at Bad, he felt the same sentiment towards him, too. Guess life-threatening events really do change a person, huh? He smirked to himself for thinking such an obvious statement.

“Oh! Hey, uh,” Slime paused to reach into his pocket, bringing the other’s attention back onto him. He pulled out the knife, cleaned to the best of his ability, and returned it to its owner. “You should probably have this back.” His survival instincts were yelling at him NOT to rearm one of the most dangerous people in the city, but his heart told him it was the right thing to do. And before he had the chance to get thanked and miss his opportunity, he rushed out, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Now that he visibly had Bad’s full attention, whose wide eyes on the knife widened even farther towards him, he took a breath and continued, “Look, I got worried that we were getting too close for comfort and I panicked. You’re right, we probably could’ve talked it out or something. I just…” Slime self-consciously chuckled. “I mean, like I told you, I don’t get out much. Conversation isn’t really my strong suit. But I wanna try again. Friends?” He held up a fist to bump.

Badboyhalo softly smiled and returned the gesture. “Apology accepted.” Slime nodded and tipped an imaginary hat to him. “Pleasure doin’ business wit’cha, Mr. Halo,” he said before continuing to walk at their previously set pace. However, he quickly noticed the lack of someone on his peripheral and slowed to check out the holdup. The moment he turned, Slime’s feet were immediately swept out from under him and his face was smothered into a chest through a hug. He smiled. Figures, there was no way he was getting off that easily. He patted an arm in reciprocation as that was the best he figured he could do in this situation.

When his lungs let him know that he needed to come up for air, he announced, albeit quite muffled, “Alright, man. I think that’s good-” Instead of being released back into the world of oxygen, though, he felt the arms around him constrict even further. Bad leaned down to his ear and whispered, “If you ever try that again, I won’t be blocking the knife for you next time.”

Slime felt a slight shiver at the threat and strained, “Yep, got it.” He was then released and patted on the back, a wholesome grin plastered across his captor’s face. “Good! Now let’s go, we’re almost there.”

He watched as the ever surprisingly dangerous man walked away, oh so joyfully, before Baghera sauntered over to put in her input on the interaction. “Hm, cute.” Slime rolled his eyes and exhaled exasperatedly, lightly pushing her away. “Shut up,” he muttered, without any actual venom held in his voice. The pair continued to walk until they caught up to Bad, who was waiting for them at a gate that opened into a courtyard. As he peered through the bars, Slime was able to recognize flower bushes lining the edges, several trees that grew some kind of dark-purplish berry, a couple statues of figures unknown to him, and a church at the center of it all.

“The fence seems a bit counterintuitive for a church, don’t you think?” Bad shrugged, his focus on the padlock he was unlocking. “It kept us safe from the zombies for this long.” He hummed in success when the mechanism finally let out a click, opening up the gate for his guests. “We also weren’t the ones to install it.” The trio was immediately greeted by a statue, the plaque at its feet reading ‘St. Odilo’s Catholic Church’. Slime had paused to read, but realized he was falling behind and continued on.

As they went down the path laid in pebbles, their guide waved at what he assumed to be two kids and their father picking berries. The younger two each held a long pole with half a soda bottle tied to the end, laughing as they caught the berries in the same motion as removing them. As one lowered his tool to empty it into the basket between them, Slime couldn’t help but feel like he recognized him from somewhere. He was too far away to get any actual details, though, so he looked away before it could become staring and decided that he could think on that later.

Bad steered them off the main trail towards the chapel itself, instead taking a smaller one that led to an adjoining hall on the side. As he pushed the doors open, Slime took it all in. Despite having light fixtures patterned across the ceiling, the large room clearly seemed entirely capable of relying on the sun through several skylights installed high up on the walls. Down below were people, tables, and chairs that all seemed to be organized into different stations. Here, a pair of friends were nearly doubling over in laughter as they organized medical supplies. There, someone making some kind of exchange in a doorway, who then left with a bag to go sit in a corner and enjoy what was probably their lunch.

It all reminded Slime of his and Baghera’s base inside Target, and yet felt somehow nothing at all like it. This place was obviously cleaner and more organized, but there was something about it that was off. Maybe it was the high ceiling or the matching, pure white walls and flooring, but everything was almost too clean. Bare. He cleared his train of thought as he noticed someone approaching. They were younger, but definitely an adult. Probably around college age, he’d say. Following them was-

“DAPPER!?” Baghera sprinted forward, meeting the child halfway in a spinning hug as she hoisted him up. Whether it was French or English, Slime couldn’t understand a word she was saying through her joyous sobbing. But nevertheless, he felt his own eyes water at the sight of the reunion.

He decided to give them a moment to themselves and join Bad’s conversation with whoever that other guy was. While walking past them, though, he made sure to politely wave and whisper, “Hey, Dapper.” With his free hand, the kid gave a tiny two-fingered salute in response before going back into the hug.

Noticing Slime walking up to his side, Bad decided to make introductions. “Oh, yeah! Tubbo, this is Slimecicle; he’s from the Target base. Slime, this is Tubbo. He’s the one we all voted to be in charge of this place.”

“Pleasure to be meeting you, Slimecicle.” Tubbo offered out a hand to shake, which he almost took, but hesitated. Unlike the blond kid outside, this guy was definitely, one-hundred percent, abso-fucking-lutely familiar. Slime squinted as he studied him for a moment, from his shirt to the pair of goggles sitting atop his head. It was coming in as a flash, but he had definitely seen this dude before. Suddenly, his hand, which had been hovering above Tubbo’s since he’d almost taken the handshake, jolted into an accusatory finger. “You’re the guy that blinded me with a can of Febreeze!”

Tubbo seemed to be shocked at the claim, then studied Slime back and pointed down to the mask he wore around his neck. “And I see you’ve learned.”

Perhaps sensing the potential outburst with declarations of vengeance, how dare what he had self-appointed to be his nemesis for the past several months think so low of him, Bad stepped in between them. “I’m going to go show him around, he REALLY needs to see that thing.” As if he understood the vague wording, Tubbo’s brows furrowed and he nodded. He turned back to Slime, face noticeably more welcoming, and stated, “Well, Slime, it was good meeting you. Stay as long as you’d like. I’m sure Bad’ll take care of it if you ever need anything.” And with that, he walked away.

Slimecicle waited a moment before asking, “So, is there actually something you wanted to show me or were you just avoiding any fighting there?” Bad nervously chuckled. “No, there is a thing. It’s this way.” He pointed back to the door they came through and started walking. Slime hesitated, “Wait, what about Baghera?” The other man halted, but didn’t even look to consider their friend. “I’ll come back for her. I just… I really think that you need to see this.” This wasn’t just nervousness anymore. Bad was almost anxious about whatever this was.

Badboyhalo. Was scared.

And that fact scared Slime, too, but he solemnly nodded and followed. He couldn’t even admire the garden as they walked, his stomach was coiling in dread as his brain tried to predict what it was. Was it something big? Was this a bad thing for everyone or just bad for him?

Baghera wasn’t coming, so either she would be shown at a separate time or it didn’t involve her at all? If it was the former, why wouldn’t they just bring them together? Were they just giving her more time with Dapper before dropping whatever bombshell this was?

He thought of Dapper and a particularly sick twist hit his gut. What if it was someone he knew? If they were hurt…

If Flippa or Mariana were dead…

Slime was practically hugging himself in worry as they reached the chapel doors. Bad opened one, halting as he saw the other’s state. He wrapped an arm around his back and led him into the building. Despite the mental spirals he was currently going through, he had to admit that this place looked beautiful. The sun, which was somewhere between noon and sunset, hit the stained glass murals at the right angle to paint the entire room in rainbow lights. There was also an awe-inspiring, hand-painted piece at the head of the church. While he himself wasn’t religious, he had to give credit where credit was due. That painting was well-loved.

Before they were to walk between the benches, Bad veered him to the left. There was a room sectioned off by a large pane of glass, with several mismatched blankets hung inside to act as makeshift curtains. He could see why, it would’ve felt like a giant fishbowl otherwise. They passed it by and headed into the hallway, stopping in front of a door that, based on location, led straight into the room. Bad released his shoulder and stepped back, clearly thinking this was a moment Slimecicle needed to himself. He took a breath, keep it together, and opened the door.

The lighter colored blankets let some sunlight in, but a familiar, little rainbow night light stuck in the corner let him know before he even saw her face. Slime raced forward, eyes watering, his legs threatening to collapse under him with each step. He fell to his knees beside the foot of her mattress, crawling closer to see her face.

Flippa’s glasses were folded and placed beside her pillow. Her skin was pale while her eyelids were dark and sunken. But, thank whatever god was out there, she was still breathing. He reached his hand out, stopping it out of fear of waking or even hurting her. It hung there, twitching from hesitation and protectiveness.

“I thought you should at least see her one last time…” Slime’s head snapped into Bad’s direction, he was still across the room but had crossed through the doorway at some point. “You mean… She-”

Bad nodded, then pointed at his left leg. Slime looked at Juanaflippa’s, or at least where it would’ve been if she still had one. Instead, the shape of her leg under the blanket cut off at the shin. A lump formed in his throat and he gripped the edge of the blanket.

“When she and Mariana came, Tubbo didn’t want to take the chance. But I knew how important they are to you, and if you were still out there…” Slime felt a tear drip down his face. “Bad…”

“Éslime?”

Both heads shot to look at the source of the new voice. There stood Mariana in the doorway, a bag of food dropped on the floor out of shock. There they were, frozen in time at the sight of each other. Slime made the first move, starting, “Mari-”

As if a spell had been broken, she rushed forward to take his face and kiss him. After months of not seeing his wife, Slime fell straight into it. His own hand reached towards hers, feeling the cool metal of her own ring that she still wore. He felt breathless when she finally broke away. “Oh Slime, I never thought I’d see you again. You went to that job and- and- Puta madre! Never to that again-”

His voice fell into background noise as Slime took a glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes had locked when he realized.

Bad was gone.

Notes:

Two chapters this month! :D
This chapter and another couple around this area were my favorite to think about when I was drawing up my outline. So, I hope it transfers onto paper well. Hopefully means I get it done sooner, too.
The church stuff is slightly inspired by the one I used to go to, though I made sure to change the name despite how well the reusing my local one would have been. I did research patron saints for the name, and wow, there are a lot. Like, did you know there is one specifically for abdominal pain?
Updates: I apparently am "so fucking cool", can smoke a blunt like a champ, & finally got a girlfriend! I mean, it hasn't been all sunshine & rainbows, but I just wanted to cover the good stuff today. I have been riding this high for a week. B)

Chapter 10

At some point later that night, after he and Mariana had caught up on each other’s lives and had just been sitting with each other in a comfortable silence, Flippa had woken herself up in a coughing fit. Slime had blinked himself awake before bolting upright at the sound, but his reflexes were nothing compared to his wife’s. Mariana, who had been nodding off while resting her head on his shoulder, was across the room holding up a bin to their daughter’s face before he could even stand up.

“Duérmete, Mami. Estás bien,” she whispered when the child finally managed to quiet back down. Flippa exhaustedly wiped her face on her sleeve and collapsed back onto her pillow, her eyes remaining closed throughout the entire event. They both watched attentively until her breathing had remained even for a solid minute and the wheezing subsided. Slimecicle himself finally released the breath he had been holding during its entirety when he was sure she was good. Mariana placed the bin back into its spot, stood back up, and began walking back towards where they were sitting.

“I, uh, think I got a bit rusty while I was away,” Slime whispered. His tone was halfheartedly attempted to be joking, but he allowed the strain in his voice through as he felt a swirling lump of dread, shame, and helplessness he had to swallow down at the thought of being too late to save her if the time came. Half-awake, Mariana just plopped down and melted back into their previous positions. “‘S okay, estás bien,” he murmured, his voice faltering as he went back to sleep. “Solo necesitas práctica.”

Slime nodded, hoping she was right. He ended up sitting there awake, thinking for longer than he’d have liked. But in a dark room echoed by the even breathing of your loved ones and an orchestra of crickets outside, one’s anxieties can only keep them awake for so long. He slumped back and closed his eyes. Well, shoot. Seems like the sleeping arrangements in this place were somehow even worse than the beanbags. He couldn't help but breathlessly laugh to himself at that.

The next morning, Slimecicle was finally able to reunite with Juanaflippa. Mariana seemed to have gotten a headstart on the day, as she was gone by the time he woke up. He checked on their daughter and, seeing that she was peaceful, went to take care of business. She remained sound asleep by the time he got back, so he decided to tidy up the room a little. He had been staring at the bin in his hands, deciding whether or not to dump it and where it would even go anyway when he heard a stir from the mattress. Immediately, the bin was dropped as he sat, watching.

Flippa stretched her arms out, then rubbed the crust out of her eyes. She sleepily patted at her pillow, searching for her glasses. Slime picked them up and placed them into her hand, his heart jumping at the contact.

She was here. She was real.

She was alive.

Juanaflippa slid the glasses onto the bridge of her nose. Her head slowly turned to say good morning and she froze. Slimecicle felt his eyes water and he smiled.

“Papa?”

The tears in his eyes fell onto his cheeks at those words. He moved his hand over hers and caressed her skin. He could barely let out a whisper in reply.

“Yeah, Flippa, it’s me.”

Notes:

Happy belated anniversary to lemon bars' first chapter!! 🥳
I had meant to upload on the actual date, but my hands were tied with college.

Anyway, so y'all know how I mentioned this scene that was coming up & I was excited to write? The very scene that inspired this entire series in the first place? So, I had completely forgotten about something that has to happen beforehand that has kinda delayed me as well. Like, if-I-don't-write-it-it-doesn't-happen kinda logic. And that's why this chapter was so short, I had to cut it in half again.
What I'm saying is that the next two chapters will update relatively close to each other if not simultaneously because I don't wanna leave you guys on that cliffhanger.
Thanks for your patience!

Chapter 11

Slimecicle’s time spent inside the church seemed to pass at its own torturous pace. Every minute was stretched agonizingly long, yet the days somehow blurred together in a way that always felt like he had just come here yesterday. He hardly ever left that room, much less the chapel. The way he saw it, everything he ever needed was right here. Or at least everyone that needed him, that was.

And was there even really a difference?

Juanaflippa’s state took his every waking thought. He moved between sitting at her bedside, pacing the length of the room, and sitting in a chair that was set closer to the door. Yes, he did leave at some point each day to take care of necessities like hygiene, but other than that, he knew this room well enough by now that it was practically burned into his very retinas. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing seemed to matter beyond his daughter’s recovery anymore.

Enough so that he hadn’t noticed Mariana’s increasing number of absences until she had finally been gone the entire day. And even then, it was only after Flippa herself asked him where her mother went was when Slimecicle realized. He answered truthfully that he didn’t know, but made sure to sugarcoat it and cover for her for now.

Mariana eventually returned later that night, long after their daughter had gone to bed. He tiptoed in and quietly shut the door. “You’re late.” He flinched, then turned. There his husband stood, arms crossed. “And you smell like cigarettes.”

He sighed, reopened the door, then whispered, “Can we not do this here?” They stared quietly at each other, before Slime walked out and he followed. Mariana hadn’t even had the chance to finish closing the door before Slime hissed out, “Have you started smoking again?”

“...Never around Juana-”

“That doesn’t matter! Her asthma’s bad enough as it is. And if I can smell it, so can she. I don’t want her to get used to the smell of nicotine and then psychologically start to associate it with comfort as she grows up thinking ‘Oh hey, wow, doesn’t this smell just like home?’ and then that makes her start to smoke, too- Oh, and don’t even get me STARTED on the physical repercussions of second-hand smoke alone-”

“Éslime!” Mariana took a breath in the short pause he managed to get. “This was a one time thing. I have been stressed. Too many people in here. I am… not used to it yet.”

Slime stood there, unmoving and glaring, before sighing and relenting. “I get it. I, uh, I guess I’ve been overcompensating on not being there for Flippa before. I know I can be… a lot, I just-”

“It is not you. I just need to adjust. Listen, maybe I can have the day with Juanaflippa tomorrow and then we can go from there, okay?” Slimecicle swallowed and nodded. At that, Mariana softened, gave him a peck on the cheek, and walked back into the room. He stayed out there a little longer, reasoning to himself to calm his nerves. Jesus, he was a nervous wreck. Can’t even trust his own wife with their daughter for a day?

He sighed at his own inner monologue, then opened the door and prepared himself for bed. In the time he’s been there, at least the sleeping situation has improved. Figures that this group was the one who stole all the sleeping bags during the raids.

Sleep didn’t come easily to him that night. He remembered tossing and turning for hours, but not the exact point in which he lost consciousness. What he did know was that he was goddamn exhausted by the time he woke up the next morning. Mariana and Juanaflippa were already awake enough to carry out a full-fledged conversation, by the looks of it. Well, if Flippa was happy, then he wouldn’t be making any complaints about today.

Slimecicle got up with a groan and a stretch, the noise alerting the other two occupants of his awakening. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Flippa greeted him, “Morning, Papa! Mama and I are gonna be spending the day together!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as if she hadn’t spent the past month or so before he came with just her mother. Oh, how a simple break in repetition could do wonders for a child.

At his own pace, he got up to return the favor. “Good morning, Flippa,” he said, then planted a kiss on her forehead. “That sounds like fun.” He made a move to do the same to his wife, placing a hand on her shoulder. “So what’re you gonna be doing today?” Slime paused mid-lean and swung back around to face the question head-on.

“Well…” Shit, he had no plans for the day. “I think I’ll just go around and see if anybody needs any help today, lend a hand.” She seemed satisfied with his answer, nodding in approval. Feeling better already, he stood up. “To start off, how ‘bout I get dressed then get breakfast for you two lovely ladies this morning?” Flippa nodded even more enthusiastically, while Mariana offered, “Gracias, cariño.”

He walked out of the room to get ready with a pep in his step. See, he was still helpful, still needed. It was only until he was about to open the doors to the outside when he hesitated. In all his time here, he hadn’t stopped by the kitchen before. Hell, he hadn’t even left these doors since that first day. It wasn’t that big a deal, right?

All he had to do was stop by, grab a bag, and go. What, were they gonna have some kind of routine that had to be completed every time someone got hungry? That would be bizarre and a complete waste of time. Still, Slime stood there, hand on the door, unmoving. He sighed and turned back towards their room. “Hey, so, funny thing…” He opened the door. “Is there anything I need to know before heading to the kitchen, ‘cause I-”

Mariana and Juanaflippa stood there, staring at him.

Juanaflippa stood there.

Juannaflippa.

Was standing.

Granted, she was leaning against the wall, but the sight stopped him dead in his tracks. That was until the lengthy pause made her falter, which broke his hypnosis and Slimecicle rushed to scoop her into his arms. She felt so light, his heart ached. “What the heck do you think you’re doing to our daughter,” he hissed out.

“We are exercising. She needs to be able to-” Slime interrupted him. “No, she doesn’t. She needs to rest.” He could feel Flippa start to squirm in his arms, so he walked over to the mattress to place her down. “For how long?” He was too busy checking Flippa’s state, who rolled her eyes upon pulse and temperature, to give a real response. “Long enough.”

Mariana pinched the bridge of his nose. “Éslime, we cannot keep her in here forever.” Slimecicle finally turned to face him. “Okay then, Mariana. Pray tell, where else would she even go in this godforsaken world?” His question wasn’t even dignified with a response, just a heavy inhale and a point out the door. He patted Flippa, who sighed after failing to get a word in the entire discussion, and followed his wife out. They stood identical to their places the previous night with their previous disagreement. “We can’t be there to protect her all the time. The best we can do is prepare her-”

“Prepare her for what?! Fine, you get her to walk, what’s next? She has to run? Is martial arts on the list? Or will she have to learn how to use a weapon? How about we refill her lighter seven years too early? Ooh, wonderful idea! Let’s just give our eight year old an actual fucking gun while we’re at it! No way can it go wrong from there! It’s the fucking apocalypse, where we say fuck all to any morals of any kind!”

His wife’s arms crossed. “You are going too far. The best way to protect her is to help her protect herself. If we-” “No.”

“No?!” Her shoulders grew more tense upon each instance she was interrupted.

“No. She’s innocent. Protecting her is my job as a parent. She needs me-”

“¡No necesitamos tu!” Slime froze with her outburst, clearly having hit a nerve. Mariana immediately softened and started to backpedal. “I- I’m sorry! I was upset. I said it wrong. I mean- What I am saying is that Juanaflippa and I are alright on our own sometimes. You don’t need to watch us twenty-four seven. We made it here in one piece, no?” Slimecicle glared at her, then huffed.

“...One piece?” His breath began to shake in anger.

“You wanna talk about one piece?!” He grabbed a fistful of Mariana’s shirt in one hand and held the other in an accusatory point. His voice lowered, “Then tell me where the fuck is our daughter’s other leg you fucking piece of-”

A slap cut him off.

Slime stood there, frozen. His cheek stung, but it wasn’t the pain that stopped him in his tracks. The gravity of his words had finally caught up to him, the realization of what he just said hitting harder than any hand could. He looked into his wife’s eyes, which filled with tears as her hands covered her mouth.

Good god, what has he done?

“Leave,” she whispered. He reached out to her, “Mari-” and she stepped away. She spoke more firmly, “Leave.”

Slime’s hand dropped. Silently, he walked out of the chapel and closed the door behind himself.

He stood there, almost in a state of denial now. He didn’t know whether to curl up into a ball and sob or bang on the door to beg for forgiveness or scream his heart out standing there or punch the nearest wall ‘til his knuckles bled or-

“Slime?”

Notes:

yowch.

(Still alive! :D)

Chapter 12

He turned to face the direction of the speaker and saw a dark, blurry figure walking towards him. Recognizing the voice, however, Slimecicle quickly gave his face a quick wipe with a sniff and responded with, “Oh. Hey, Bad.” His own voice cracked, his glasses were both foggy and askew, he couldn’t even force on a smile like he usually did anymore. Did he look like shit because he sure as shit felt like it.

Bad stood there awkwardly, staring. He made a motion like he was about to say something, but then stopped himself. He kept glancing towards the chapel doors, as if piecing together what had happened inside. After thinking about it for a bit, he nervously asked, “Hey, would you… be available to help me out with some stuff today? I could use the extra hand,” and extended his own. Slime stared at it for a second. “...Yeah, um, I- uh, I guess I could do that…”

He placed his own hand in Bad’s grip, who gave a soft and sympathetic smile in return before gently pulling him up. However gentle it may have been intended, Slime hadn’t even realized how far down the wall he slid while in his prior despair and ended up stumbling over his own feet at the movement. Thankfully, the other had been fully prepared and caught him by the shoulder with his other hand. “Thanks.” While still continuing to lean on each other, they started walking.

Bad exhaled and whispered, “I’d offer you a handkerchief if I had one,” before quickly continuing in a more forward tone, “So, have you eaten today?” Slime shook his head and muttered, “Not hungry.” He saw his cloaked friend nod from the corner of his eye, who then took a glance down on their left. He took a look at whatever it was himself, immediately straightening up and out of Bad’s hold when he realized that Dapper had been quietly walking with them the entire time.

“You okay?” Bad asked, startled by the sudden movement. “‘M fine,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and curling in on himself as tightly as possible. Slimecicle was supposed to set an example. Kid shouldn’t have to see him like this. Or any adult for that matter. He felt a pair of eyes staying on him for a bit after, but no other inquiries were followed to his relief.

They walked down the rest of the path in silence. Their apparent destination was the community hall, which Slime hadn’t visited since… well, since the day he first came here. Wow, now that he thought about it, he realized that he’d fully lost track of how long it’d been since then. Maybe he really did need to get out more. As he looked around the room, he noticed Bad kneeling with Dapper to whisper. He pointed at the door, the kitchen area, and then back to the door again. The kid nodded, turned around, then went on his way.

Badboyhalo stood up, brushed off his knees, and rejoined Slime. “So, you’re sure you’re not hungry?” He shook his head in response, Bad nodding in return. “Then how about some water?” He was silent for a moment, thinking it over. “...Yeah, I’d like that.”

Bad took them aside, sat his accompaniment down, reached into his cloak, and pulled out a water bottle. The very same one Slimecicle had seen the day he came here, he assumed, given that it now sported a minor dent. Had he been in a better state, he probably would’ve visibly cringed at the memory. Today, though, he just mumbled his thanks and took it.

The first sip was hard, fighting past the lump in his throat, but he felt himself ease up after any semblance of hydration made it past. Bad, who had followed Slime onto the floor, watched him until he brought the bottle down to take a breath of air. Seemingly content with that, he turned away to make conversation. “Dapper won’t be with us for the rest of the day, I think. Since I noticed that Mariana hadn’t stopped by for breakfast, I figured that-”

“Shit, Flippa!” Slime made a motion to get up, but a firm hand bumping into his chest sat him back down immediately. “Language. I figured that the very least I could do is send Dapper there to help her out. They’ll probably end up staying there, too. If not, they at least know where we’ll be.”

Slime relaxed and nodded at that. “Good kid,” he said, making a mental note of the pronoun change. He also needed to thank them the next time he saw them. He took another sip of water as Bad nodded, “They are.” They sat silently for a moment.

“So, while we’re on the topic of where we’ll be, I guess you should probably know what we’re doing today.” Slime turned to give the man his full attention. “We’ll be doing some inventory, some clean-up, and some baking. Then- wait, are you alright with leaving here at any point? The trip’s part of the job.”

Slimecicle wavered on his answer. On one hand, he could hardly leave the room, much less the entire property where his daughter was. On the other, he couldn’t see her for the rest of the day anyway, so he might as well try to take his mind off of it. Distance could help with that. But what if she needed him? His mind felt stuck in places as his thoughts spiraled around him. Then, he closed his eyes and breathed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Alrighty then, let’s get to it.” Bad slapped his hands against his thighs, pushing down on them to stand up. He offered out a hand again, though this time it was taken with much less reluctance. Slime could even feel the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Notes:

Sorry guys, I left you on that cliffhanger longer than anticipated.
(I got distracted writing the final chapter, so at least that will be a quicker update. Eventually...)
Also, I’m no longer promising my “favorite part” coming next chapter, it keeps getting pushed back that way. I’ll just tell you when it happens myself.

Anyways, college life. Thankfully, not swamped. Things have been going pretty smoothly. I do have to research a 60s topic of my choice for an english course. Guess who now has to write 5-6 pages about the animation style & technology used in disney's 101 dalmatians? :D

Chapter 13

Slime stood there in silence, watching. He didn't make a move. He didn't make a sound.

Bad stood beside him, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. He was using the pen as a pointer while he was counting items, muttering under his breath. The sight of him brought Slimecicle back to their days of the PTA and how far away it felt. Despite it all though, Badboyhalo seemed to remain the perfectionist model of suburbia as if they hadn’t been fighting for their lives everyday since then. Well, maybe that last bit was an exaggeration, but that type of normalcy felt like an entire lifetime ago.

“So, Slime, what’d you get?” He blinked back into reality, seeing that his chore partner had apparently stopped counting at some point and wanted to check his numbers. “Oh, um, same thing…” he mumbled.

A familiar glint shone in the other’s eyes as he huffed out a chuckle. “Okay, well, good to know because I got 47 left on the mason jars-” Slime cringed at his mistake, but his companion made no other acknowledgement to it besides that statement. Instead, he was focused on the task at hand, listing off the remaining array of utilities the encampment had. Which Slime knew he was supposed to be following, the entire reason he came to help, but soon found himself fading back out of.

His words from this morning kept looping in his mind like a broken record. He was trying to figure out his answer to Bad’s question, he really was, but instead his own brain decided it would rather walk in circles, what he should’ve done differently and where he would be now if he hadn’t fucked it. Logically, you know what, yeah, he’d probably still be here, counting jars. But the mental image of himself coming back through the door and sitting down, joining his family for breakfast and having a laugh at nothing in particular stayed. Who knows? Maybe they were laughing at him. Haha, sucks to suck, idiot. Look at where he could’ve been if he hadn’t… well, if he hadn’t decided to suck so much. Loser. Slime couldn’t help but frown at this entire impossibly cruel, albeit rather childishly insulting, storyline that his train of thought crafted as a punishment for his actions.

He was snapped out of his mental tangent as an arm looped around the back of his neck and an object was thumped against his chest. His arms reached out instinctively, though heavy and delayed, in an attempt to catch whatever it was. An aluminum pie dish fell through his grasp to land on the floor, its rattling almost echoed in comparison to the quiet of the storage room. Both him and Bad stared at it in what probably would’ve been a comedic silence had he been in any other state.

“Whew, glad I didn’t hand you a jar, then.” He held out the clipboard, allowing Slimecicle to fully grab ahold of it this time, and dropped down to pick the pie dish back up. Standing once again, Bad put a hand on the other’s back to walk him out of the room.

Returning to the hall, they made their way towards the exit as Bad made small conversational exchanges for the both of them. People were apparently surprised to see Slimecicle outside again. Brushing off the fact that they apparently remembered him enough from the few minutes between his arrival and disappearance into the church, the increasing number of mentions made and reactions given made him worry on just how long he’d been in there. He really needed to ask Bad about it.

Surely, it couldn’t have been any more than a couple of weeks. That was a long enough period of time to register this amount of attention, right? He thought back to the number of times he’d gone to sleep to count the days, but they all seemed to blur together. Did he do that chore on the same day as that one walk around, or another? It was definitely previous, he at least had a frame of a memory looking at it completed as he stepped out. The light protruding from the now open door he was apparently facing tore him away from his thoughts once again. God, he was out of it.

Gee, wonder why that is? He glared at nothing in particular, as his brain had no tangible form to express his own displeasure towards. He had had it up to here with its backtalk today. Trying to keep at least some semblance of the real world in his focus, he turned to his companion for the day. He was cheerful as ever; Slime cleared his throat to speak. “...Bad?”

Eyes were on him immediately, the sudden attention was as comforting as it was imposing. “Hm? What’s up, Slime?”

“How, uh, how long have I been here?”

Bad’s fingers twitched against his shoulderblade and he inhaled a long hiss through clenched teeth. The index of his other hand, the one being used to hold the pie dish, was brought up to rub the underside of his nose. “Ehh… I mean- you probably don’t want to hear the exact number of days, right?” His attempted diversion was met with silence. “Not that I don’t think you can’t handle it or anything, but we’re in June now so-” Every other word that followed went unheard after that.

June.

It was still April the last time he saw his base in Target.

Fucking April.

He had kept himself cooped up in that building for a solid two months. God, it was no wonder Mariana was just absolutely sick of him. And Flippa, too. He couldn’t even blame them! How many times had he even bathed in that timespan?! His mind blanked at the question because of course it fucking would, that petty bitch. At this point, he should leave the base just for Mariana and Flippa’s sake. He probably reeked and no one told him because it was just like him to fly off that handle at everything because he took it personally and no one wanted to deal with that so they just had to put up with him as is to keep his fragile ego intact because he was selfish like that and-

Something tugged at his fingers. The movement was gentle, but it was enough to startle him out of whatever spiral he was going down just now. Bad waved a hand in front of his face and pulled again. “Heyy, Earth to Slimecicle. Would you please let go of the clipboard to give to the nice British man who’s kindly offered to help us finish out the berry season?”

British? His eyes finally focused on the man standing before them.

Blonde. Hat. British. “Phil?”

The solemn man’s eyes crinkled at the recognition and his voice was soft when he asked, “How’s it going, mate?”

Slimecicle dropped the clipboard out of shock, which was thankfully already in Bad’s grip and swiftly pulled away. “Phil…” He practically fell into the older man’s arms, who stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and enveloping him in a hug. It was like he was a kid again. A kid who went to his friend’s dad over his own whenever he had trouble. A kid who went ahead and decided he could take care of a family when he was barely surviving by himself. A kid who almost immediately failed to do that, one of them almost died just for existing! But just like with each of those times, Philza was there to pick him back up, dust him off, and send him back out there.

…Wow, he really should have taken him up on that job offer a lot sooner, he almost forgot how damn nice this felt. He could’ve been getting this a heck of a lot more had he swallowed his pride sooner. He rustled the fabric underneath his fingers, almost as if to test that the other wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “You’re, uh, you’re really here…”

A hand patted him on the back. “It would seem so, yeah.”

Slime felt himself regain some sense and stepped back. “Wait. Why are you here?”

Philza chuckled at that. “Well, the way I see it, I figure that when two people leave the base one morning- without telling anyone mind you, and only half of them come back, the rest of the group has the right to figure out what happened for themselves.”

Slimecicle stood there, dumbfounded on an explanation. “...We did tell Cellbit-”

“Ah yes, you told Cellbit. The man who is concerned enough as it is with the power issue you asked him about had to wake up to find out that you never came back from your little ‘early morning stroll’ with Baghera. I think you can guess just how much he appreciated that little heads up.” Sarcasm dripped from every word that came out of his mouth.

Deflect, deflect now. Slimecicle gave an apologetic smile. “I mean… that couldn’t have been the only reason you came here, right? I think you seem a bit more inconvenienced than actually concerned for my wellbeing right now.”

Phil gave him a playful scoff and shook his head. “Hate to say that you’re right, mate. But I will say this much: I think we both stayed here for the same reason.” He looked away, towards the two kids Slime had seen before. They were now sitting crosslegged, sorting berries into baskets by a metric he couldn’t see from this distance. The older man turned back and spoke again, “Speaking of, some of us didn’t know if you’d be open to visits anytime soon; Baghera especially has been wanting to see you. If you’re too busy doing stuff, though, it was good just to see you walking outside again.”

Not anymore, we don’t. Whether it was meant to be suggestive, based on his lack thereof on the ‘doing stuff’, or just a nod at the monotonous routine he’d been going through lately, Slime mentally shook the jeer off. “Well, I’d need to talk about it with them, but I think I can get back to you on that by tomorrow. I don’t really have any plans for the next… eh, the next while.”

Philza nodded. “Glad to hear it. Just make sure to tell us before you go running off to any more encampments we don’t know about, okay?” He seemed to add that last bit at the end as a joke. Slimecicle was just about to respond when Bad returned carrying a small basket’s worth of berries, likely passing off the clipboard to someone else while the two talked.

“Alright, Slime, I’ve got everything we need for the pie now. Do you think you’ve made up your mind yet on going to that other base because there’s no shame if-” He shut his companion up with a hand to the chest and gently shoved him back to guide them both out of the conversation. He tried not to look back as he said his farewells.

“Yup, best get going now. See you, Phil, love you, bye!”

Notes:

(Potential trigger warning with this update, guys)
Sincerest apologies on such a delay, a lot happened, as stated in a comment in the last chapter.
So… ya boi is back to that bachelor lifestyle! It’s alright though, the break-up was mutual & probably a long time coming. Maybe I would've preferred if it wasn’t over discord, but I digress.
It was also within the same 24 hours that I lost my favorite knife, which I think I was emotionally attached to since I carried it everywhere for security & it was the entire reason I stopped cutting myself (I used pain to break myself out of spiraling), so you can probably tell where my priorities were. That was either my second ever panic attack or a pretty bad breakdown I had when I realized I couldn’t find it. I’d kinda been going between denial, depression, & internal panic for several weeks after spring break (when it happened). I’m still somehow hoping it’ll somehow actually be around here somewhere like in the trailer & not lost forever or picked up by someone at the campsite we were at, fingers crossed. And then grandma passed as of this past week, that happened. I think I’m in that state of denial, either that or I emotionally distanced myself a little too hard. Her funeral's tomorrow. Still unemployed, though, which also sucks.
On a lighter note, the english project went well. I also had two more essays, but they were more tedious than hard. Somehow, they were both about trans people, so I felt like a walking liberal stereotype. Dyed hair & mooching off my parents still & all that.
(Edit: Most of this update was written back in April, which was then edited over time to adjust to how long it’s been. It’s almost August now & I’ve considered rewriting it entirely.)

Notes:

Hey, I know this is probably not the sequel anyone expected. I originally wrote it as a oneshot alternate universe purgatory joke, however, I kept putting effort into it and now it's becoming it's own thing.
Give this a chance, and if by the end you guys want that normal ending, I'll try to figure something out.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Slimehalo Baking Adventures