Notes

Off With The Head Again, Just Take It Off - 5:21
(Alternative title: I’m So Sorry This Is Really Long I Press Enter Too Many Times And Try To Break Up Tension With Happies Also I Promise You There Will Be Delicious Juggy Action Soon I Really Do Just Lemme Do Some More Character Setups For A Sec And We’ll Be Ready To Die by Buggy)
(Thank you again to my good friend Atari for blessing me with their son, Clive)
“Alright, everyone done?” Gene stood and collected soup bowls happily. Everyone was sitting down in a little circle in the main room, some still with blankets on. It was a bit dark, with peeps of light streaming in through the cracks in between curtains.
“We’re good,” said Skuggy, holding out his plate. “Can…can you excuse me for a moment before we get ready?” Gene collected his bowl and nodded.
“Yes, feel free, but come back quickly, okay?” His voice was calm and reassuring. Skuggy looked back to Clive, who was still holding him. Clive let go and looked a bit surprised as Skuggy hopped off and promptly made his way down the hall. Clive held out his bowl, too.
“Thank you,” he said.
Rascal was leaning back in a big blanket, hands empty of a soup bowl. “That was good, Gene. I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Yeah, Gene!” cheered Farrow.
“Oh, shush you guys,” laughed Gene, blushing a bit as he carried the bowls to the sink. “I do enjoy cooking. It’s a bit like art, really.”
“I remember you used to invite Amne and I for dinner a lot,” Buggy chuckled. “It was basically all I lived off of back then, haha. Thank god I’ve finally learned how to make cereal without burning it.”
“Y…you can burn cereal?” Rascal looked at him with wide eyes.
“Yes.” Buggy made eye contact with him, dead serious.
“Nah, he’s lying,” said Farrow. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“But…why?” Rascal was wide-eyed.
Clive listened onto the conversation, a bit concerned, actually. “My roommate burns noodles for fun,” he added, laughing a bit. “He runs from them every other day.”
“But…why?!” Rascal set his head in his hands.
“Hey, Rascal. Help me out with packing up the materials,” called Mendel.
“Oops, gotta go. Y’all have backpacks?” Rascal hopped off of the couch.
“I do!” Buggy raised his hand.
“Um…I have pockets?” Clive looked to him, shrugging.
“I didn’t bring shit. Sorry.” Farrow sat with his legs pulled up to his chest, scrolling his phone idly. “No signal here still? God, Samuel’s gonna be looking for me…”
“Uhhhh okay, I think…I think we might be able to fit some stuff in the backpacks, we might have to carry some rope, but that’s cool.” Rascal paced around anxiously. “Uhh, we got the stakes from the house, right?”
“I put them down by the bear traps,” said Farrow. “And a med kit, and a uh….”
“Ah! A hook? Okay, this might come to use. Climbing a tree? Grappling hook!” Rascal snapped his fingers.
“Here, since we’re going to the motel, I can empty out the backpack and put on some new clothes!” Buggy got up and hurried to Rascal. “I can leave the old stuff at the motel!”
“Okay, great,” Rascal said. “Clive, go get Skuggy, we might need some knives.”
“Oh my god I forgot to give Skuggy back his knife, he’s gonna behead me!” Buggy cried out.
“Alright, one sec!” Clive hopped up and hurried down the hall. The lights were off save for the bathroom light. Clive left a few knocks on the door. “Hey, Skug! We need you in the living room!”
“Huh?” A muffled voice sounded from the bathroom, sounding a bit light. “Uh, just tell them I’ll be out in a sec, I’m busy.”
“You good in there?” asked Clive, smooshing his face to the door. “Are you washing your hands?”
“Uh, yeah.” The sink turned on, and he could hear the sound of hands cupping under it, then coming out once again. A small splash. “Just go, Clive, I’m good.”
“…You sure?” Clive cocked an eyebrow and gently tapped the door handle. “If you need anything, I’m here, y’know.”
“I know, Clive. Go away,” he urged, a bit more serious now. The sink turned off. The sound of shuffling shoes.
Clive blinked. He had never really been upset at him before. He felt a small sting in his chest. “…Skuggy?” He knocked again.
“What do you want?” Skuggy pulled the door open, and Clive stumbled in. Skuggy’s face was red, voice trembling slightly.
“…Were you crying?” Clive’s eyes suddenly widened, and he froze. Skuggy looked around and shut the door.
“Dude, shut up. I…like, I…” Skuggy covered his eyes with his hands, scowling in frustration. “I got a bit anxious, okay?! Just…just don’t tell anyone! I’m trying to fix i–”
“Who did it.” Clive clenched his fist and unclenched it repeatedly, face still but eyes burning with some sort of emotion Skuggy couldn’t identify at first glance.
“What? No, no, it isn’t what you think, I just…stop looking at me like that!” Skuggy’s hands trembled a bit.
“Was it Farrow?”
“…” Skuggy looked to the side, voice caught in his throat. “…Well, y-yeah, b–”
“Hold this.” Clive held out his spatula.
“Wh..What? No, this i–”
“It’s okay, I’ve got your back. Hold my spatula.” He nudged it closer. Skuggy recognized the emotion in his eyes, and oh lord, if Death, the Horseman of the Apocalypse, could be a single emotion, it would be apt enough to be kept in this man’s eyes. He took the spatula without another word, and Clive immediately shoved open the door, kicking it with his foot as well. He stormed out, leaving a wake of pure rage in his path.
Skuggy stood there in the bathroom, actually feeling a bit terrified. He peeked out the door, hands still a bit shaky. “Jesus Christ, what have I done,” he mumbled to himself.
Clive stepped into the living room bare-handed, expression grim. They didn’t notice–Buggy, Rascal, and Mendel were organizing supplies. Gene was washing dishes, and Farrow was constructing a few Molotovs, just in case. Clive stepped up behind him.
“Farrow?” His voice was still characteristically light, but his face showed no lightness to it. Farrow turned, a bit bothered.
“Yeah, what do you want? I’m a bit busy.”
“You do know you’re a terrible person for hurting him, right?”
Farrow sighed and rolled his eyes, turning back to his work. “Ugh, shut up, kid. Don’t get your nose so deep in shit that isn’t your business, alright?” He topped it off with a cork stopper, nudging it in with care. “Hm…be a dear and get me a little candle, would you?”
Clive stood silently.
“…Did you hear me?” Farrow turned around. “I said get me a fucking ca–”
Clive socked him in the jaw, making him yell out in pain and fall backwards. He then leaped onto him and pulled out a knife from his coat pocket, holding Farrow down by the neck with his other arm.
“You’re the scum of the earth, you rotten little excuse of a man,” he spat. “Do you know that?” Everyone turned to look at the scene, Rascal screaming. Clive held the knife up to his throat and moved his hand a bit, measuring the force he’d need to use to puncture it. Farrow looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to shove him off. Clive lifted his knife and was about to bring it down.
“Clive! Holy shit!” Gene sprinted from the kitchen and pushed him back, grabbing Clive by the shoulders. Clive pulled away from him, yelling at Farrow and swinging around his knife. Buggy quickly ran to help out Gene, and Mendel followed.
“CLIVE NO, WE HAVE A DEAL!” Buggy reached for Clive’s arm.
“If you two don’t stop fighting I’ll kick both of you out,” Mendel said calmly, merely standing aside and making sure nobody dies.
Farrow kicked Clive in the chest and managed to scramble away as Gene and Buggy both managed to pry him off.
“Get back here, you little shit!” Clive called out after him, Farrow quickly running behind Mendel and peeking out from over his shoulder.
“Oh dear god, that guy just– did you see that?! Mendel, he tried to fucking kill me!” Farrow looked at him with the look a girl would give to you after you spilled coffee on her new shirt.
“Enough is enough!” Gene carried Clive off and set him back down. “Listen, Clive, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we have a deal here,” he explained quickly, holding him back from lunging back at Farrow. “As long as Farrow’s on our team, he can’t hurt us, and we can’t hurt him–”
“This dude broke the fucking deal! He– he was right there! With a KNIFE!” Farrow yelled.
“And I would’ve beheaded you a second time too, you fucking nuisance!” Clive retorted. “You hurt my friend, you aren’t just going to get away with it!”
“Listen!” Gene shook him, frustrated. “If you don’t stop, we’re throwing you out, okay? You can’t hurt him, he can’t hurt us. Sure, he’s not a good person, but as long as he’s just helping the team complete their common goal, he’s fine! Leave him alone!”
“You dont even know what he DID to him!” Clive yelled, trying to squirm his way out. Gene held him tight.
“Listen, Clive, I do. And trust me, I wish I could do something to help but I–”
Skuggy peeked out from the hall. “…Are we all alive in here?”
Everyone turned to face him. Clive stopped and gasped.
“Your friend tried to fucking kill me! Is this what you sent him to do, you little bastard?” Farrow snapped. “I swear to fucking god, once I get my hands on you–” Clive threw his knife at him, aiming for the head. Instead, it grazed his cheek and pinned itself into a wall. Farrow, speechless, simply put a hand to his cheek and screamed.
“Farrow, go make your bombs.” Mendel shoved him back to where he was.
Skuggy quickly disappeared back into the hall.
Gene looked back to Clive. “You good? Are you okay now?”
Clive watched as Skuggy vanished away as the knife slammed into the wall, and snapped to his senses. “Oh. Oh gosh.” His lips quivered. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I really am–”
“I know, Clive. Just leave them be, I’ve got this under control.” Gene pat his back. “I mean, I’m a doctor of all trades, I’ve dealt with things like this all the time. You trust me, don’t you?” His voice returned to the usual calm and reassuring tone he had to him.
Clive held back a sob. “I’m so sorry. I really do! I do! But…” He choked back more sobs. “Oh god, I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine, really! Just…don’t pull something like that again. At least not under the deal, okay?” Gene pat his head. “It’s okay Clive, really. You’re okay. Everything’s fine. I understand why you’d protect your friend, but…keep in mind we are a team, yes?” He wiped his tears.
Clive nodded silently, sniffing. “I-Is everyone okay? Oh jeez…”
“Everyone is okay, Clive. Mendel! Go tend to Farrow, make sure he’s okay.” Mendel nodded and went to check up on him. “Everything is alright, Clive. I just need to know if you promise you won’t do that again.”
“I’ll try, I really will!” Clive insisted. “I’m so sorry, Gene…”
“No need to apologize, friend.” He pat him once more and set him down, standing up. “If you need anything else, I’ve got you. For now, is it okay if you help Rascal over there? He seems a bit distressed. I need to help your friend.” Clive looked over to Rascal, who was frantically organizing as if his life depended on it.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He looked back to Gene. “T-Thanks, Gene…” Gene smiled and ruffled his hair.
“I’m trusting you, Clive. I’m gonna deal with these two, you guys go finish packing. Oz is waiting, and you all know the sun isn’t gonna wait for us!” Gene led his own way through the room, disappearing into the darkness of the hall, leaving everyone a little bit more calm than they were before as he passed.
“…The fuck was that?” Farrow said, finally sitting back down to finish his Molotovs.
Rascal was holding back for a bit, but finally said something. “Farrow I think you just got your sorry ass beat.”
“He did,” agreed Mendel.
“Mendel, you’re supposed to be on my side!” Farrow gasped. Rascal laughed, Mendel only smirking.
“It is just a joke, Farrow.”
“Wait a minute. Who cares about whatever the hell happened, Mendel just made a joke.” Farrow’s head perked up. Clive gasped a bit, actually genuinely surprised.
Mendel stifled a little laugh.