Stickvin "Week" 2025

by The Author (Yours_The_Author)

Summary:

A collection of stories starring Henry Stickmin and Charles Calvin.

Notes:

Hello, gamers!

Before we begin, let's give a big round of applause for @tessenda over on Tumblr for making the prompts for this year's THSC Ship Week! Yay! If you want to participate yourself (or look ahead to see what ships have what prompts and when), just look up #thscshipweek2025 on Tumblr, and you'll find the list in no time!

Anyway, since I'm basic, I'm going to be doing this year's ships in the order they came in on the list, which means Stickvin is first up on the list! The prompt for today is: Relentless Bounty Hunter Endings. It took me a few tries, but I finally came up with this, which I'm pretty darn proud of. It's not very long, but I hope you enjoy it! See you tomorrow for even more Stickvin!

Chapter 1: Day 1: Relentless Bounty Hunter Endings

“Have you ever considered going pro?”

The question bubbled out of Charles without hesitation as he piloted his helicopter away from what was left of the Dogobogo Jungle launchsite. The man who had completed the mission with unprecedented speed- Henry Stickmin- gave him an appraising look in response, a toothpick clenched tightly in his teeth (where had he even gotten that?).

Charlie’s military-grade professionalism was breaking apart at a rapid rate, and he fought to keep his grin at a normal size. Henry’s wordless, no-nonsense determination to complete the mission so quickly was… well, it was awesome. Straight-out-of-a comic-book levels of awesome, even. He felt like a kid meeting a super hero, which a part of him knew was a bit silly, since he and Henry were hardly more than acquaintances.

Henry had been the one in charge ever since Charles met him. Back when they were infiltrating the airship, Charles had hardly finished asking how he wanted to be dropped in before Henry revealed his plan: to launch himself in a large plastic ball through the air, thousands of feet above the ground, right through the airship’s front window. It was a fantastic plan, and while Charles had no idea how Henry could have possibly known that his helicopter was equipped for such a plan, he was quick to do as he was told. Hardly a half hour later, Henry was pushing the Toppat Chief into Galeforce’s waiting hands, somehow unscathed despite literally falling to the ground in nothing but a battle tank.

There had been so much Charles had wanted to say as he handed the mad man his pardon— after all, what were the odds that he’d ever get to talk to someone whose brain was on the same wavelength when it came to great plans? But Galeforce had wanted to get the Toppat Chief squared away in prison as quickly as possible, and so they’d departed with less than a word spoken between them.

Charles had resigned himself to the fact that he and Henry would never cross paths again. Henry had his pardon, so what more could Charles do for him? But then one day, as he was flying through a dark and stormy night to rendezvous with the rest of the military in the Jungle, his headset had picked up a signal featuring a quiet but memorable voice. Considering that Charles had only heard Henry say one sentence over the loud drone of helicopter blades, it was miraculous that he’d recognized the former thief’s voice so easily. He certainly wasn’t going to question it, though and following a quick rescue from the Wall, Henry was quickly brought onboard.

After some quick messages from Galeforce, Henry was also brought on to complete the mission of capturing the Toppat Clan’s Right Hand Man, who had taken over as chief in order to launch an orbital space station into the sky. Just like the first time, Henry had made impossibly fast work of defeating and capturing the criminal, and the mission was completed in hardly under an hour. It was almost like Henry had done this before…

So now here Charles was, in the pilot’s seat of his helicopter, trying desperately not to act like a fanboy meeting a celebrity while Henry hung off the back of his chair with those bright and fiery eyes of his, while also keeping an eye on the Right Hand Man crumpled up on the floor in the back. He twitched occasionally, but was clearly in no shape to cause any trouble.

Henry chewed on his toothpick absently, head tilted to the side as if encouraging Charles to continue his line of thought.

“I mean,” Charles said, biting his lip and staring focused on the cloudy blue sky above them. “You’re- you were really cool out there. You're scary good at this, and I mean- y’know, if you wanted to- I bet you’d make a fantastic bounty hunter. You’ve already hunted two bounties, heh. So…”

Charles dared to glance back at Henry, heart pounding as he saw Henry’s thin lips form a smirk that showed off his teeth. His canines looked sharper than Charles had expected, and he hurriedly returned his gaze to the sky. Henry huffed out an amused breath, the air brushing against the side of Charlie’s neck. He hunched forward a bit, face warm. “C’mon, man, I’m trying to fly here…”

Henry relented, thank God, and eased himself into the seat next to Charlie’s, staring up at the sky with a content stoicism. He occasionally flicked his eyes to the back of the chopper to keep an eye on the Right Hand Man, but other than that, he was as still as a statue.

Charles made a point to hyperfocus on landing his helicopter back in friendly territory and making sure that the Right Hand Man had been securely locked up before allowing himself to look at Henry again. More words bubble out of his throat under the man’s intense gaze.

“Hey, so- there’s this place a couple hours from here, and some of the guys are gonna head there to celebrate. You, uh- you wanna come with?”

Henry tilted his head, still chewing on that toothpick from earlier… or had he gotten a new one when Charles wasn’t looking? Did he just have a box of toothpicks in his pocket for this exact purpose?

Charles shook the thought from his head and said, “I mean, if it weren’t for you, we’d probably still be at the launch site for another couple of hours, so… plus we’ve got to pour a few out for the guys who… didn’t make it, you know?”

Henry’s eyes dimmed a bit, and he took the toothpick out of his mouth solemnly. Charles hadn’t known “Frog”, “Eel”, or “Turtle” personally, but he knew that they would be missed greatly by a number of people. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought of just how easily the Right Hand Man had turned them into piles of ashes, according to the people unfortunate enough to witness the whole thing. He could only hope that they’d gone as quickly as it happened.

Henry gently punched his shoulder, giving him a consoling look. Charles blew air out of his lips and straightened up, giving him a small smile in return. “So… that’s a yes?”

Henry smiled back, eyes growing warmer and brighter like a spark becoming a flame. Charles let his grin spread across his face. “Awesome! Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.” Henry waggled his eyebrows and Charles snickered, pinching his brow in mock annoyance… and also to hide the warmth blooming on his face.

Chapter 2: Day 2: Crossover

Summary:

Locked in a mansion with a blood thirsty monster, Henry loses it all.

Notes:

Uh, whoops, I made angst. Day 3 and 4 of Stickvin "Week" should be considerably less angsty, but I kind of got carried away with this one. The prompt for today is "Crossover", and me, being the big dumb silly stinky I am, decided to do a crossover with the mansion murder game I like. Also me, being the big dumb silly stinky I am, got sick of bumming myself out and decided to post what I've got instead of trying to keep going. More on that later, but first, let's get to the story!

Content Warnings for blood and death. So much blood and death.

The mansion was just as abandoned looking on the inside as it had been on the outside: the whitewashed walls and the creaky wooden floorboards and the sheets hiding odd bits of furniture were all covered in an even layer of dust. It seemed completely untouched, with not even a cobweb to hint that there had been life here at any point, and when Henry had first entered with the rest of his team, he’d wished he brought a paint gun or something. Just to give the place a little more color.

That was hours ago, though… or perhaps it had been days? The doors were locked and the windows boarded up, keeping those stuck inside disconnected with the outside world. Henry, Ellie, and Charles had pried at every nail and board they could find, to no avail. Galeforce had tried to call for backup, only for no one to pick up. Rupert had even tried to shoot the front door down, but nothing worked. There was no escape. No one was coming to save them. They’d surely starve to death in here… if there wasn’t a much bigger problem prowling around the halls to deal with.

The monster was a dark, misshapen creature with bright eyes and a mouth that glowed red like lava, and it was merciless. It chased them around, cornered them, tried to rip them all to pieces, and each time they only just managed to scare it off for a moment’s peace. Fighting the huge, lumbering thing was exhausting, and frequent. No matter how badly they wounded it, it would just show up a few rooms later, any injuries hidden away in its shadowy form like they were never there. Not even the Toppat’s fancier weapons could hold it off forever. It was inevitable, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when they started dying.

Ellie was the first loss, a death so sudden and unexpected that it had taken several seconds of gaping for any of them to comprehend what had happened. They’d scared it off. They’d won, for the moment. But the monster lashed out one more time before slinking out of sight.

Ellie, pretty as a rose with a tongue and wit as sharp as thorns, lay crumpled on top of the broken remains of an ebony piano, her face smashed into her skull and blood growing in oceans around her.

After Ellie, they began to fall like skyscrapers slowly but surely collapsing to the ground.

The Toppat Clan’s Right Hand Man had fulfilled his duty, taking a lethal blow meant for his leader, but the Toppat Chief refused to move on, and they had to leave him behind to keep moving.

The Toppat’s third in command was next. He flailed and thrashed and screamed to hold onto his life as it slipped through his fingers like blood, uselessly. Upon learning of the third in command’s death, the Toppat’s Liaison walked away with a half empty pistol and determined eyes. They never saw him again.

Henry didn’t know how Galeforce and Dave had died. Charles tried asking Rupert, but he remained as silent and as still as stone, sitting on the floor between the two bodies as he impatiently polished his gun for his final battle.

When Henry had first seen the whitewashed walls and the creaky wooden floorboards and the sheets covering odd bits of furniture, he’d wished that the mansion could have a little splash of color here or there. Now, red covered almost every surface, hand prints and claw marks lining the walls, dribbling puddles forming dark paths on the floor, the sheets crumpled and torn and left behind, soaked through with blood that refused to dry. Henry never wanted to see the color red again, but here it was, staining his hands as he pressed against Charlie’s chest wound with all of his might.

“C’mon,” he muttered, “c’mon…!”

Charles gazed up at him, lips twisted in pain and his eyes full of resignation. “It’s not gonna work, Hen,” he said softly.

His eyes fluttered and Henry slapped him, flinching at his own action before pressing the wound even harder. “Charles,” Henry hissed, the name barely audible but weighing heavy on his tongue. “Please.”

Charles hardly reacted to the attack, but he managed to reach into the pocket of his favorite army jacket and pull something small and shiny out into the open. A key. “It dropped it,” he said with a bitter, breathy laugh. “Stupid thing dropped it…”

Henry stared at the key, then clenched Charlie’s hand into a fist. “We’ll get out,” he insisted, moving to scoop his arms under the pilot’s body.

“Ow, ow, Hen-!” Henry leapt away and Charles coughed, blood spilling down his lips. “Hen,” he groaned, breaths shallow. “Please… get out. Escape…”

“Charles-!”

“And when you do…” Charlie’s hazy eyes looked into Henry’s as well as they could. “...Bomb the hell… out of this place. For me?”

Henry dragged Charlie’s hand up and down his cheek, smearing blood and tears in thick streaks. “I need you,” he begged. “I need you, Charlie, please-!”

Charles took one long, slow breath and closed his eyes. “...Love you.”

Henry stared down at his partner, his first friend, his Charles. The words had been so quiet… had he even heard them, or had he only imagined it? He couldn’t ask anymore.

Despite the absolute anguish tearing his heart and mind apart, Henry didn’t utter a single sound. There’d been too much grief, too much loss; he had nothing left to give for this wonderful man that he loved. He wasn’t dead, but the monster had torn away everything that had made him feel alive, leaving a hollow, aching wound where there had once been a man with friends and love and purpose.

Notes:

I originally intended to keep going here, to have Henry manage to escape with the monster on his heels only for him to stop and demand that the monster let him travel back in time to save his friends, which would end things on a more hopeful note. But I am eepy and am gonna sleepy; therefore, I'm leaving things here for today.

Coming up next: ...I don't know how to describe it, but it sure is there! Stay tuned for tomorrow's chapter; until then!

Chapter 3: Day 3: Toppats

Summary:

In the midst of the Toppat Clan's reign of heists around the world and the blood spilling on both sides, attempts for a truce are made.
AKA: The government tries to convince the Toppat Clan to stop stealing from them, Henry enjoys having an evil crush on a boy, Ellie is way too good at understanding word vomit, Reginald is sick of sitting still for several hours, Right Hand Man is not paid enough for this, Charles becomes the main character of one of those "I was sold to One Direction" fics, Galeforce is bullied relentlessly, and Burt is There.

Notes:

Hi! Remember how I said yesterday that day 3 was gonna be happier than day 2? ...I think it's still technically true? Depending on who you ask. Henry has a grand ol time, Galeforce does not; there's so much nuance!

So as you can guess from the chapter summary, this one's a little convoluted... but I had fun with it! I kick my little feetsies every time Henry is stupid strictly for the sake of making people upset and angry at him; it's my evil little vice.

I was looking forward to writing this one for a while, and while it's not a complete match to what I saw in my head, I'm pretty pleased with the end result! Also, this one's pretty long, at least in comparison to most of my ship week one shots... I got a little carried away. You might want to buckle down for this one.

See you at the bottom of the page!

With the Toppat Clan’s orbital space station successfully launched, the number of heists happening across the world in a single day nearly tripled. Nothing could stand between the Toppats and their mark; after all, entering a highly secured vault was as easy as walking into a beam of light in space, nabbing what they wanted, and then walking back into the light and into space. They were unstoppable.

Suffice to say, the governments of the world weren’t happy about this. Attempts were made to construct space ships and shuttles to corner the Clan in their own station, but aside from a single prototype secretly developed by the US government (which the Toppats also stole somehow, despite it being secret), no one could match the level of technology that the Toppats had spent years developing. They were untouchable.

This had resulted in a series of collective decisions that became an unspoken rule: any and all Toppats spotted on Earth were to be killed on sight, with no exceptions. Picking them off one by one to weaken their numbers was the best plan they had, morally dubious as it might have been to execute without trial or jury.

The current chief of the Toppat Clan- Henry Stickmin- did not like this unspoken rule. Even though he’d only begun ruling the Clan one year ago, he felt protective of the people he now considered friends and family. The blood of the covenant truly was thicker than the water of the womb; if there was one thing to know about Henry Stickmin, it was that anyone who hurt the people he loved were never seen in one piece again.

Eventually, this all led to where they were now: Henry, sitting at the head of one of the communication rooms onboard the station with his inner circle of confidants beside him, looking unimpressed up at the screen projection filled with the many faces of the United States government. Senators, congressmen, and military generals were stacked in rows and columns of video call screens, hoping to negotiate some sort of truce to keep their soldiers wholly alive and the Toppats out of their hair. It was extremely slow going.

“We absolutely will not let you ‘peek’ at our blueprints,” Reginald Copperbottom announced, standing in front of his seat by Henry’s side and glaring up at each video screen in turn. “If you honestly think we’d be stupid enough to give you the means to attack us directly in exchange for pardons , of all things, then this meeting might as well end here!”

Frustrated arguments blurred together under a cacophony of bad microphones and poor signals as all of the people on screen reacted to this statement. Henry bit the inside of his cheek. He was forever thankful to have Reginald speaking on his behalf, but his headache had become a migraine over an hour ago. He didn’t seem to be the only one, if the sour look on Reginald’s Right Hand Man’s half-robotic face was anything to go off. Even his own Right Hand Lady, Ellie Rose, was starting to create holes in the table from how harshly she’d been tapping her fingers. Henry would almost say it was a miracle that Reginald could still keep going, if he didn’t know that this came from literal decades of practice as his predecessor.

The virtual babble quieted, mostly, and someone spoke up, someone Henry didn’t know or care about. “There’s only so much we can negotiate with, given the circumstances. Can’t you give us something to work with?”

Reginald scoffed, shuffling the papers in his hands into a neater stack. “We have, as much as we care to. If you yourselves aren’t prepared to offer anything of real value, then perhaps the wellbeing of your soldiers isn’t as important as you claim.”

Indignant shouts belted from the speakers, the military leaders in particular turning red with rage. “That’s rich coming from you all!” Someone barked over the others. “If you actually cared about your guys getting killed, then you’d make them stay up in that space station of yours and never come out!”

Reginald gripped his papers so hard they nearly tore in half, teeth bared in outrage. “How dare- ”

Henry cleared his throat pointedly for a long moment, and Reginald slowly closed his mouth and sat back in his seat. Henry sat up a little straighter, waiting until the faces onscreen were quiet once more. “I don’t appreciate your comments, General Doe,” he said, watching as the man who’d insulted them flinched noticeably near the center of the screen. “The safety of my clan means more to me than you could ever understand, but I refuse to clip my people’s wings so that they’ll never fall as they fly. I don’t own them.”

He tilted his head to the side. “I’m tired of listening to you all say nothing in as many words as possible for hours on end. I’m the one with the power, so I’m offering the deal. The only deal.” He straightened again and set both hands firmly on his arm rests. “I want total immunity from your laws and interference. I want none of you to so much as look at a Toppat ever again. Do this, and we’ll never steal from you- and only you- ever again.”

There was total silence on both ends of the call. The generals and senators and congressmen were struck dumb as stone, and Henry’s team- his council, of sorts- had quiet but mixed reactions.

Ellie had stopped tapping her fingers against the table, instead clasping her hands politely in front of her as she gave him a curious side glance, eyes darting imperceptibly to uncover the true meaning of Henry’s words. Right Hand Man’s arms were crossed, his human eyes staring at him with pointed doubt and a touch of suspicion, unsure of where Henry was going with this “deal”. Reginald’s lips were pursed, clearly unhappy with the proposed ultimatum but using all of his strength to hold his tongue and let Henry explain further.

Henry paused for a moment. The deal he’d offered was much easier said than done, by a long shot. The number of loopholes, workarounds, and specifics that would be astronomical. If he weren’t careful, he might as well be handing them the schematics to their whole space station. Still, he’d already said put the idea out there. Might as well say the rest.

“Here’s the basics: the Toppat Clan will avoid entering any United States territories, including airspace, and will not steal from any United States vehicles or parties traveling through other countries or territories. In turn, no member of the United States, be they military, leader, or civilian, will interfere or bring harm to any Toppats at any other location on Earth.” He lifted a finger to draw attention to his next point. “This deal does not extend to the rest of the Earth; not your allies, not your enemies, nor any neutral relations. Only the United States will be affected by this deal. And I’m only offering it to you, specifically, once.”

Hushed, fuzzy murmurs crackled through the speakers, and Henry leaned back in his chair to take a breath. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Ellie was at least a bit more convinced, shoulders slumped just a bit as she began to relax. The Right Hand Man seemed far less suspicious than he had before, though his frequent glances towards Reginald clearly meant he was still filled with doubt. Reginald’s brow was furrowed, his mustache twitching slightly as he shook his head “no” as subtly as humanly possible. Henry let his eyes rest on Reginald, blinking slowly to make it clear to him that his concern was acknowledged.

If the US government actually took the deal, then that would mean months, more likely years of working through every possible kink and exception to make sure the deal worked as intended. That wasn’t something he was too concerned with, though he certainly didn’t like the thought of it. The main issue was how the Toppat Clan would feel about this deal. The United States was one of their top heist locations, and to suddenly have no access to the valuables there would limit heist opportunities, leaving longer periods of time of thumb twiddling that would set his people on edge with cabin fever. A number of the clan members had family in the United States as well, and cutting them off from the people they loved made Henry feel rotten.

Of course, if the United States refused the deal altogether, then he didn’t have to worry about that. He’d meant it when he said this was the only deal. If they said no, then there would be no more negotiations. Things would continue on as they had been, and the heists and deaths- and his subsequent revenge sprees- would remain as they were.

Henry rested his chin in his hands, hiding his mouth as his ideas became clearer and clearer. All he had to do was demand something that this government would never give away, a line they wouldn’t cross if only to keep up the image of a free nation. He knew exactly what he wanted.

“This is your offer,” one of the men onscreen said slowly. “This ultimatum, these conditions… this is what you want from us?” Henry hummed in agreement. “And this is our only chance to agree?”

“Your only chance, and never again,” Henry nodded. “And, of course, we still have to talk about my favor.”

He’d said it quickly and casually, mostly just to see how long it would take them to comprehend what he’d said.

“... Your favor?” Someone blurted, followed by the voices rising over each other to complain. “This is our favor!” “What more do you need?” “Stupid Toppats!” “Their greed sickens me.”

Henry bit back a smile. It was working already; now he just needed to put the final nail in the coffin and end this conversation for good. “Calling off heists in the United States indefinitely will put my people in a difficult position, and put me at odds with the Clan. So, obviously,” he spun his finger lazily in the air, “in addition to the deal, which will be refined rigorously… you must do something for me specifically.”

A man near the top right corner of the screen pressed a hand to his forehead, looking like he would burst into tears any second as he moaned, “what do you even want ?”

Henry’s heart fluttered, and he took a breath to calm himself. Then he looked near the center of the screen, at the one person he recognized out of all these people gathered, and said, “Charles Calvin.”

“WHAT?!” General Hubert Galeforce blurted. The look on his face was like heroin, and Henry struggled to keep his cool

“Oh, I know; it’s just that he’s such a charming little man. Like a ray of sunshine given form.” He giggled into his hand; he couldn’t help it.

Galeforce glared at him with more vitriol than could possibly be healthy. “Charlie is not joining your clan!”

“Who said anything about him joining?” Henry leaned further back his chair, fiddling with the brooch on his cape as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “His hatred for Toppats runs deep. He won’t be so easily swayed.” I’ve tried too many times to count.

“Hang on, I’m confused,” one of the senators interrupted. “Who’s Charles Calvin?”

“I think he’s a pilot or something?” A different general said. “I remember seeing his name on a few documents once or twice. Nice young man, I hear.”

“What does he have to do with the Toppats, though?”

Henry cleared his throat. “If you’ll let me continue explaining my favor…?”

“Absolutely not!” Galeforce shouted.

“Hang on, Huey,” someone piped up, “let’s hear him out, first.”

Galeforce’s face turned beet red, but after some pointed looks from his fellow generals, he closed his mouth.

Huey, Henry thought. I have got to remember that one. He took a deep breath and began: “Every month, Charles Calvin will give me the pleasure of his company for one week, from the dawn of the first day to the evening of the last. He will never be harmed or in danger, and he will be barred from endangering the Toppats in any way. He’ll be well provided for, of course, and returned promptly when the week is up, within the hour.” He crossed his legs, giving the people on the screen (especially Galeforce) a cocky smirk. “What do you say, gentlemen? One pilot and one well drafted agreement of avoidance. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Of course not!” Galeforce roared. “We’re not going to trade human lives around like bargaining chips, and I don’t buy your little “playdate” schtick for a second! If you think we’re going to agree with any of the crap that just fell out of your mouth, then you’re wrong-!”

“This calls for a break,” someone interrupted again.

Galeforce’s face went slack. “...What?”

“Yeah, a break sounds good,” someone else said, followed by hums and nods of agreement from every person onscreen except Galeforce.

Henry smiled politely at them all. “Of course, gentlemen. Five minutes should do it, yes?”

“Can we have ten, actually-?”

“Five it is, then. Think carefully, all of you.” Henry gestured to Burt Curtis, who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room to maintain the communication signals between the space station and Earth. Burt pressed a button and the screen turned dark, leaving everyone with big, glowing afterimages in their eyes.

No one spoke or moved until Burt announced, “All fire walls are in place; it’s safe to talk.” Then he sat back in his chair and yawned loudly.

Given the all clear (and with the afterimage finally fading from his eyes), Henry stood and turned to see how his inner circle was doing.

“Henry,” Reginald began immediately, “with all due respect, what the hell was that?”

“Yeah,” Right Hand Man grunted, getting out of seat and stretching his robotic limbs. “Now’s no time for funny business. What exactly is the plan here?”

Ellie remained quiet for a moment. Henry watched her, imagining the gears turning in her head and feeling his heart patter in anticipation of her conclusion. “...You’re being weird on purpose, aren’t you?” She stood from her seat and stretched her arms, careful not to knock her top hat off her head. “You’re giving them conditions they can’t possibly follow so they’ll give up on this whole truce thing. Have I got that right?”

Henry grinned cheekily at her, bouncing on his toes.

“Henry,” Reginald sighed, pinching his brow tightly. “I don’t doubt your intentions, but is this really the best way to handle things? They’ll think you’re insane.”

Henry simply shrugged, and the Right Hand Man cleared his throat. “And what exactly is the plan if they’re stupid enough to accept this ‘deal’? The whole thing’s so convoluted now that it’ll fall apart immediately, even if we spend years trying to write it out.”

“And for the love of God,” Reginald cried, pulling at his hair, “ who is Charles Calvin?!”

“Ooh, I know this one!” Ellie offered. Henry looked at her curiously, and she clasped her hands together and batted her eyelashes. “He’s the guy, isn’t he? Whenever I catch you smiling at nothing, you’re thinking of him, aren’t you?” Henry’s eyes dropped to the ground out of habit, a sheepish smile on his face. “Dork!” Ellie punched him in the arm before her expression turned serious. “I will kill him if he hurts anyone, though, so don’t expect me to go easy on him just ‘cause you like him.”

Henry nodded grimly. Ellie never made promises she couldn’t keep.

“Speaking of hurting people,” Reginald said pointedly, “how on Earth are you going to prevent him from causing any harm to the clan, physically or otherwise? If that man hates Toppats as much as you say he does, nothing short of tying him up will keep him in control, and I doubt the government will classify such action as ‘not harming him’.”

“Exactly,” Right Hand Man nodded. “There’s too many ways for it to fall through. That truce will never hold.”

“And that’s the beauty of it!” Ellie grinned. “It’s bound to go wrong, so it’ll be alright! We can do as many heists in the US as we want, like before!”

“So nothing’s changed, then,” Right Hand Man said with a huff.

Reginald groaned. “ Please tell me we did not just spend the last three hours sitting in this dreadful room only for nothing to be different?”

“Technically, they were the ones who came to us begging for a truce,” Ellie pointed out. “They’re the ones with the problem, not us. If they’re tired of finding body parts in their houses, then they need to back off on the whole killing thing. It’s all on them.”

“Sixty seconds til communications start again,” Burt called, clicking his mouse around the screen of his master laptop.

Reginald sighed and returned to his seat on Henry’s left. “I’m uncertain about all this, but I’ll trust your judgement, Henry,” he said. “You haven’t led us astray before… don’t start now.”

Right Hand Man sat on Reginald’s left, giving a single, silent nod in Henry’s direction. The look in his human eye, though, was crystal clear with the consequences Henry would suffer if Reginald got hurt in any way because of this.

Ellie sat on his right, giving a small smile as he sat down as well. “You know you’re crazy, right? Like, you understand that’s an objective statement?” Henry gave her a thumbs up, and she laughed softly. “You son of a gun; I’m in. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Communications start in ten, nine, eight…” Burt called out.

Henry settled into his seat, schooling his expression back into the smug little villain that he was. Everyone had been right about everything, and in perfect honesty, he had no idea how badly this might blow up in his face. But as the senators and congressmen and generals reappeared on the big screen (minus, notably, Huey Galeforce), there was one part of his absurd plan that he hoped he’d see to fruition, even if only for a day: spending time with the ever-earnest, heart-on-his-sleeve Charles Calvin, even if the pilot loathed him for every second of it.

Notes:

Lady and the Tiger time! Do you think the government agrees to sell Charles out, or not? Does it matter either way if the truce falls through sooner or later? ...WILL the truce fall through, or will something vaguely resembling a plot blossom from this toxic yaoi garden I dug in the yard with my bare hands? I've got no clue, haha.

One of my favorite things to imagine these days is Henry going around blurting out the most random, out of pocket things to everyone at all times, be they friend or foe. Think like Bubble from the Amazing Digital Circus, but it's Henry Stickmin. The little freak ever. He must explode.
Anyway, since this is one of my favorite things to imagine, it was really fun writing about Henry being extra silly and ticking people off on purpose. Ellie, somehow, is able to keep up with this man, while Reginald and Right Hand Man just go along with it and hope it all resolves itself somehow.

Would a meeting about calling trucies between members of the government and a criminal organization be anything like this? Absolutely not. This is the most unrealistic thing I've ever come up; somehow nothing else I've made comes close. This whole thing is strictly written for the sake of making things happen, things that I personally find amusing and to facilitate the imagining of shenanigans between some blorbos. I suppose this is what they call a "self-indulgent" fic.

Oops, sorry Charlie; your leaders sold you to the leader of a criminal organization for some pocket lint and sixty two cents. Bro is NOT gonna be happy when he hears about this.
I never read such a fic myself, but apparently there used to be something of a genre of real person fanfiction where the protagonist would get "sold" to a popular boy band, like One Direction? And I guess they'd just hang out and do shenanigans? Or something? I don't know, but Charles sure will deal with some shenanigans if the deal happens, even for a little bit.

Also, it occurred to me a few days ago that Galeforce's first name can be shortened to "Huey" and the idea of him being called Huey in a serious military environment is hilarious to me.
Galeforce: Henry Stickmin, I'm arresting you and the rest of the Toppat Clan! Come out with your hands up-
Henry: Shut up, Huey, I'm vibing.
Galeforce:
It'd be like pressing the power button on him or something; complete and total shutdown. Heehee.

Ahh... anyway, that's enough being evil on main today. I'm gonna post this and eat some dinner, maybe have a little desert as a treat.

Coming up next: That's not his freaking shoulder.

Until then!

Chapter 4: Day 4: Valiant Hero

Summary:

Caught up in the heat of the moment, Charles forgets where his hand is.

Notes:

OOGH, YEAH! Stickvin "Week": FINISHED!

Technically, there's also a "free day" for each ship, but since I'm going to be doing four different ships, I decided it'd be best to put my focus on getting that all done instead.

This one didn't take nearly as long as yesterday's took, though it has been at least four hours. I am feeling the effects of waking up at six in the morning after going to bed after midnight, so I'm either going to take a nap or tough it out until a more appropriate hour for sleep comes.

Before I do that, though, I've got to post this chapter! The theme is "Valiant Hero", so that means only good and happy things will come of this. See you at the bottom of the page!

The snow fell thick and fast, both blinding and deafening from the intensity of the storm. Charles was used to bad weather, though, and he grinned with satisfaction as he spotted the small truck ahead of him sliding off the road and colliding with a large rock. There was no time for celebration, however; he needed to get them.

Turning the wheel harshly and shifting the gears of the military jeep with impossible speed, Charles opened the door and allowed the momentum of his speed to throw him out at the crashed truck, leaving the jeep to swivel and come to a stop on its own in the snow. He hit the ground running, pistol aimed and firing wildly. Already, three figures had managed to crawl out of the wreckage and surround their treasure, some even firing back on him. Charles pumped his legs as fast as he could, his grin turning into a snarl as he drew nearer. He was so close, so close-!

A flash of electric green descended from the sky, surrounding the Toppats he’d been pursuing before disappearing just as fast, taking the criminals- and their stolen treasure- with it.

Charles stumbled to a stop, nearly tripping over his feet and the snow as he glared at the wrecked remains of their getaway vehicle. Not every mission could be completed successfully, he knew that perfectly well, but… the Toppats always got away these days.

That stupid orbital station flying around Earth, big enough to see but too distant to aim for, was somehow able to beam anyone inside into any location on Earth no matter how secure it might be. Even if the Toppats sometimes had to make a break for it, that teleportation beam always snatched them back into space before they were caught. As far as Charles knew, no one in the government had managed to keep a Toppat locked up for more than an hour.

He sighed harshly, lowering his gun as he gazed around the frigid landscape of Canada. He needed to get that jeep back, wherever it had disappeared to. He always got scolded for his nifty little maneuvers when using the military’s jeeps. But aside from the fact that they almost always got him close to the enemy? That was just his style. He was bold and daring, ready to throw himself at his target and come out on top. Despite the apprehension others expressed when he shared such plans, he knew it was a pretty great plan. Maybe even the greatest plan.

It was then that Charles realized he wasn’t alone. A dozen feet away, peering at him silently through the snow, was a lone figure that he knew he recognized. He had to be mistaken. Charles had to be wrong about this. But…

“Henry?” He called out. The figure perked up at the sound of his name, and it was like Charlie’s frustrations had melted off of him like piles of snow. “Henry!” Charles ran forward, grinning almost hysterically at the sight of Henry Stickmin, the former thief turned private investigator that had supposedly died earlier that week.

He stopped himself before he threw himself at Henry, remembering at the last moment that the man was picky about physical contact. He threw his hands up in the air instead. “I thought you’d died!”

Henry offered him a warm smile and raised his hand in greeting. He was somehow even skinnier than he’d been when they first met, pale as the snow and dressed in threadbare winter clothes that he must have stolen out of the trashcan. From what Charles had heard, the people at the Wall had captured Henry in spite of his pardon. Of course, Henry couldn’t be contained for long, and one car chase later, had been pushed to his death off the cliff face. Charles had no idea how he could have survived that, especially since there were multiple witnesses, but the relief and joy in his heart was elating.

Henry gestured over his shoulder, and Charles peered through the snow to see the glowing windows of a small, isolated building. Oh yeah; they were just sitting in the middle of a snow storm looking at each other, weren’t they? Charles would have to look for the jeep later. Maybe.

The building turned out to be a rustic little tavern, dotted with a small number of customers that were either asleep, drunk, or both. Henry led him to the bar, sitting in a stool that had a grubby looking snow mask sitting nearby. Notably, there were no drinks, probably because Henry had no money.

Charles pulled out his wallet and tossed a couple of bills at the bartender, only to remember at the last second they were American dollars, not Canadian. …Maybe the barkeep would take pity on them.

There were a million questions he wanted to ask, but before he could articulate any of them, the sight of that stupid orbital station on the TV above them brought his frustrations right back to the front.

“Ah, man,” he groaned. “The Toppat Clan’s been causing a bunch of problems for me lately.”

Henry glanced up at the TV, and Charles hummed in affirmation. “Yeah, ever since they got that orbital station set up, they’ve been super strong.” He shifted his headphones just enough that he could massage his temples without knocking them askew. “Super strong” was putting it mildly. The number of headaches those criminals were causing was starting to pile up, and the tension and frustration everyone felt was beginning to reach a breaking point. If something didn’t happen soon, things could get very ugly, very quickly.

Charles sighed slowly, and Henry patted his arm in consolation. The frustration of failure and the joy of relief warred inside him, but Charles was surprised to find that the sensation was energizing him, not draining him. If only there was some to share this feeling with the rest of the government, giving them that little push of hope needed to keep fighting and win-

It hit Charlie like a helicopter. The source of these feelings inside him was sitting right next to him: Henry Stickmin, who defied the odds and finished everything he started, even managing to cheat death to do so. There was nothing he couldn’t do. And that gave Charles an idea.

“Now that I think about it,” he began. “You and I made a pretty good team in the past.” Determination and conviction took over him for a second, and he grabbed Henry. “I bet we could take ‘em out. It’s starting to get personal. ”

He was about to ask if Henry was in, only for the bewildered expression on his face to slow Charles down. His eyes were wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise, and Charles struggled to think of what could possibly be causing such a reaction. Henry hadn’t forgotten about their past team up, had he? No, that couldn’t be it; if he didn’t remember teaming up, then he wouldn’t have remembered Charles at all. Was it apprehension, or the fear that the Wall could come back for him to lock him up once more? Or maybe something had physically happened? His hand was pretty cold, and Henry’s cheek was starting to turn pink from the chill-

Oh my God, Charles thought, that’s not his freaking shoulder.

He hadn’t thought much of grabbing Henry mid-speech. As uncomfortable as the man could be with sudden contact, Charles had been far too eager to contain himself. Grabbing him was supposed to help Charles ground himself, bring him back to the present moment and stop counting his chickens before they hatched. Evidently, though, he’d completely miscalculated where his hand was in relation to Henry, and now they were staring at each other in an awkward silence.

He should be pulling away and apologizing for the slip, or playing it off as the mistake it was, or at least doing something to soothe the pretty pink warmth spreading across Henry’s face- wait, no, bad Charlie; just take your hand off his face…!

Actually, now that it had been several seconds, it occurred to Charles that Henry hadn’t pulled away himself. He wasn’t brushing himself off or giving Charles a pointed look; he was just sitting there.

…Did Henry like this? Did he like this? As pale and gaunt as it was, Henry’s face felt fairly soft, and Charlie’s hand was growing warmer the longer he stayed right where he was. It was a nice face, a lovely face, even. Smooth skin, dark eyes… pretty lips.

Okay, maybe Charles wanted to kiss him. He’d been frustrated and angry for over a week now, with nothing going right for him or the people he cared about. Taking a moment to indulge in some tenderness with a man that he felt something for could soothe those frustrations, if only for a second.

Actually, kissing Henry sounded really good right now.

His eyes darted to Henry’s mouth, still half open with surprise. Charles could swear he was hearing Henry’s soft, shallow breaths, an intimate sound that lured him further in. Squeezing his cheek a little more firmly, Charles began to pull Henry closer, those soft and shallow breaths brushing against his own lips in feather-light sensations-

“Excuse me, sir.”

Charles swung his head around to stare at the bartender, who was standing right in front of them with a small glass cup in his hand. “W-what?” He managed.

The bartender presented the glass to him. “Would you like a cup of warm water?”

Charlie stared at the cup. “...Why would I want that?”

The bartender set the glass on the counter with a loud clink. “It’s on the house.”

“But I don’t-”

The bartender turned away without another word, walking over to a patron with a number of spilled drinks surrounding them.

Charles slowly looked back at Henry. His hand had fallen away from the man’s face at some point, and he was suddenly aware of how cold his hand felt. Unsure of what to do with himself, he grabbed the cup and took a small sip. The water was warm, but only just, and Charles grimaced at the unpleasant feeling.

“...Anyway,” he said. “You wanna, like- take the Toppats down, or whatever?”

Henry nodded and gave him a crisp thumbs-up.

“Cool. Let’s… let’s go do that, then.”

Henry grabbed his mask and pulled it over his head, and Charles tried very hard not to think about how sad not being able to see his face made him feel. He wasn’t entirely sure what just happened, but as they headed back into the frigid night and searched the snowbanks for his abandoned jeep, he decided that the best course of action was to put a pin in it and think about it later. They still had things to do, after all: taking down the Toppat Clan was going to take a lot of work, starting with figuring out how to steal the government’s secret prototype space ship without anyone finding out. Henry could probably help with that, being a former thief and all.

They’d talk about whatever had happened between them later, after they completed the mission.

Notes:

And then they defeated the Toppats and went back to Earth safely and had an earnest conversation about their relationship and they lived happily ever after, the end :)

Everyone knows that Charlie's hand placement in the opening scene of this ending is a little... y'know. What the heck was going through his head when he did that? Did he mean to do that? If it wasn't his shoulder, then what was it supposed to be? These are the questions, people!

Hot take (I guess?), but I actually like drinking warm water. It's easier to drink quickly if it's warm, and it feels more soothing on my throat than cold water. You know when you leave a bottle of water in the car in the sun for an hour or so, and then you come back to take a swig and the water's all warm? I appreciate that. I know most people like their water like they like their coffee: ice cold or piping hot, so the idea of water that's just kind of in the middle seems to be unpleasant for most people, at least from what I've heard.

Anyway, my neck is starting to bend in unhealthy directions, so that's my cue to lie down for a minute. Thanks for joining me for Stickvin "Week", and special thanks to tessenda on Tumblr for organizing all of these prompts! I'll be back tomorrow with my next ship on the list: PanPrice!

Coming up next: Fluff, both literal and figurative.

Until then!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Stick Ships 2025