Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There aren’t that many places of worship in Happy Tree Town. For some reason not many people seem interested in spending time in places that often have so many open flames and billowing fabric. But there’s one church that’s supposedly been in town since it was built, off of the main street. It doesn’t look very exciting at first glance, honestly. The white paint isn't as brilliant as it once was, the grass and plants surrounding it are all just a bit too overgrown, and close inspection shows more than one amateur patch job. 

It has an air of respectability about it, but with a similar quiet despair as an old waterlogged bible. 

It would be expected that such a distinguished but old church would have a priest to match. Someone with years under their collar, well versed in scripture, and definitely someone who’s actually legally allowed to be called a priest. Instead, what the church has is a young man with a tired but kind expression, who strictly speaking is not a priest at all. 

Flippy never meant to become a man of the cloth. He hadn’t had any strong plans for what would happen after he left the army, but he’d figured he’d settle down. Do something quiet and enjoy himself. Well, he’s at least gotten the quiet part down pat. 

He isn’t even strictly a Christian. He’s more of a “Lapsed Catholic” who “doesn’t really believe in God”. Not that he let the church know about that going in, of course. There’s things even the lax standards of Happy Tree won’t allow. He doesn’t expect it’ll ever come up, however; he’s gotten good at lying and the folks who live in town are mostly looking for someone to listen to their worries rather than be a real spiritual guide. 

Still, he keeps up appearances. Right now for instance he’s kneeling in front of the pulpit, hands clasped in front of him. To anyone looking on he’d appear to be praying, but he’s the only one who knows the truth: he’s thinking about what to have for dinner. 

That’s why he doesn’t immediately hear a voice behind him until what he thinks is the second or maybe third time he’s called out to. 

“Father?” 

He nearly jumps out of his skin but just barely manages to keep it together and make it look far more calm than he really is. He stands slowly and takes the time to turn and calm his beating heart. He really needs to be more aware of his surroundings when he’s alone like this. 

Giggles is standing by the pews, breathless and with a worried expression that immediately stops Flippy’s concerns about looking ridiculous. He doesn’t even correct her on calling him Father. 

“Giggles?” He hurries over and she immediately throws her arms around him. He’s thrown off balance for a moment before regaining it and setting a hand on her back.  “Woah! What’s wrong!” 

“It’s Cuddles!” She says, and grips onto the front of his shirt. She’s got a somewhat wild look in her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to be drunk or anything. Just upset. “He’s in trouble!” 

“What? What happened?” Cuddles isn’t someone who comes by all that often, but the times Flippy has met him he’s been perfectly nice. The idea of him being in trouble is certainly a worrying one. 

“He- It’s-!” Giggles hiccups and wipes at her eyes. Flippy waits patiently, because he assumes if she’s come to a priest instead of the police it’s probably not something that needs to be fixed right this instant. “He’s been possessed!” 

“...Huh?” 

Here’s what he’s able to gather on their way to Giggles’ house: 

Her, Cuddles, and Toothy were playing around with a Ouija board when they contacted something. They thought it was all just each other playing tricks on the rest of them, so they were rude and whatever it was got angry enough to break free of the board and possess Cuddles. Now he’s been acting overly violent and scary, and Giggles ran to the church as fast as she could to find Flippy. 

And it’s. Well. 

It’s a pretty story, to be sure. It’s just...He doesn’t believe it. Oh, he for sure believes that these dumb kids went and played with a Ouija board and scared themselves stupid. And he wouldn’t be surprised if Cuddles was playing a game he wasn’t expecting to be called out on. But there’s absolutely no way he believes it’s a real...ghost, or demon, or whatever. Because, you know, those don’t exist. 

Not that he’s said that! Not...out loud! It would be rude to shoot down someone’s fear, especially when something could be seriously wrong. He doesn’t want Giggles to get mad at him when he still needs to help. 

Toothy is outside the house when they finally arrive, which is a surprise. He would have thought that Cuddles’ best friend would stay with him so they could get their stories straight. Maybe he’s here to give Cuddles a heads up when Flippy arrives? Though, when he gets closer and looks at the honest fear on Toothy’s face...His opinion changes a little. 

Here’s the thing. Flippy is not unfamiliar with psychosis. He is perhaps too familiar with it, actually, and that’s why it occurs to him that there might be a third option to Cuddles’ problem. If it isn’t demons, and may not be a prank, then there’s a very real chance Cuddles is having mental trouble. Which brings up a different problem if that’s the case, because how can he in good conscience pretend to save someone when they’re having a psychotic break? 

Hrm. He’s going to have to play this by ear it seems. 

“Father!” Toothy stands up quickly and scrubs at his face, but not quick enough to hide either the tear tracks or the black eye. Worrying. “Thank god. He got worse!” 

“Oh no.” Giggles says and tugs at Flippy’s arm which she hasn’t let go of since leaving the church. “Please, you can help him right? Please say you can I can’t see him like this!” 

“I…” He pauses, then straightens. “I’ll do my very best. Now listen. I’m going to go in by myself, see if I can’t talk Cuddles down. I don’t want you two to get hurt in the middle of things, so don’t come in unless you hear a lot of shouting, got it?” 

Giggles and Toothy look uncertain for a moment before nodding. Sometimes Flippy is actually glad that he went through the army, because people listen to him when he thinks to put on his Official Voice. 

He goes into the house, clutching his coat closer to him automatically as the temperature drops a bit. It makes sense, since he’s just come from rushing around outside. The house is quiet, quieter than he expected it to be. He honestly thought that Cuddles would have come rushing out immediately, hamming it up. It’s enough to make him worry but he keeps walking, certain that an explanation will crop up before long. And to his credit, it does. 

He walks into the living room and immediately stops, his eyes going wide. Cuddles is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, ropes binding his arms and legs in such a way that he’s not going anywhere on his own any time soon. They actually look a bit too tight which strikes him as a bit much for a mere prank. Couple that with Toothy’s injury...ugh. He is not liking where this is going. 

“Cuddles?” 

Flippy watches as Cuddles jolts a bit at hearing his voice. He raises his head and Flippy takes an instinctive step back as soon as their eyes meet. 

There’s something wrong about him. Flippy can’t put his finger on what, exactly, it is, but if he had to describe it… The space around him doesn’t seem to move quite right. Which, in this town, isn’t actually all that surprising, but it does make it a bit more troublesome to deal with. Cuddles’ actual expression seems slightly confused and vacant. Concerning.  

“Cuddles, are you feeling okay? Can you hear me?” He speaks softly, trying to keep his voice unthreatening. He knows from experience that when someone’s panicking the last thing they want is to hear anything that’ll aggravate it. 

“...Father?” Cuddles says after a moment, and that’s sort of weird. He’s made it a running gag to call him everything but that. He must be really distressed. “Wait..Wait a second. Is this some kind of joke?” 

Flippy freezes. Instead of Cuddles’ bright and high voice, he’s speaking in a pitch so low he doesn’t even sound like himself. Maybe he’d get close if he smoked and drank for twenty years while being the frontman for a screamo band. But there’s no way he’d manage it now. 

“What-” 

“Tsch. They couldn’t even be bothered to send an actual priest?” Cuddles says, and Flippy stares. He’s not wrong, but Cuddles has never bothered to make that distinction before. “Or even a believer? The church has really gone downhill.” 

And he shouldn’t even know that- No, wait. Hold on, Flippy. Don’t let yourself get swept up by him. It’s looking more and more like this is a genuine break of some sort, so he should be the one to keep his wits about him. Just because Cuddles is saying things that are true doesn’t mean he somehow knows they’re true.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” He says. “But I’m here to help you. Can you tell me what’s going on?” 

“Oh, is that how we’re gonna play it? Okay,” Cuddles says. “Then how about you start by untying me? That pink gal really knows how to tie a knot, but it’s digging into my skin something awful.” 

Flippy nods and takes all of one step forward before the entire room seems to tilt to the side. Not in the normal “something is wrong and I’m about to pass out” way, but instead in a “something is very wrong” way. And when he takes a step back and the hallucination immediately stops, he frowns. 

“...Cuddles.” He says, as mildly as he possibly can. “There’s no chance you and your friends were doing drugs, is there? Maybe, ah, hallucinogens?” Because he cannot think of anything that would make sense other than something lingering in this house fucking with his perception. Not that dramatically, at least. 

“What? Oh, no, not at all. Wow, you must think real highly of this kid, huh “father”?” Cuddles laughs like knives on bone. “Are you such a nonbeliever that you can’t even accept what’s happening in front of you?” 

“Listen,” Flippy says, not bothering to regulate his tone. He can only handle so much, dammit. “I only believe in what I can see for certain. And so far, all I’ve seen is a young man acting like an idiot and scaring his friends. So stop putting on the voice and talk to me, or I can leave you to cool your head a bit more.” 

Cuddles stares at him, mouth agape. He looks bewildered as if he didn’t actually expect Flippy to call him out on his bullshit. And, well, it’s true that he didn’t intend to. But he stands his ground and keeps eye contact. 

“...Heh. You’re actually pretty interesting. I like you.” Cuddles says. “I think I’ll spend a bit of time with you, instead.” 

Flippy is just about to ask what he means by that, when Cuddles goes stock still and his eyes go black. Before he can properly react to that there’s a sound like air rushing past him. He blinks and when he opens his eyes he’s holding rope in his hands and Cuddles is unconscious on the couch. 

A quick check shows that he’s fine physically, so at least Flippy can take solace in the fact that he didn’t hurt him during his blackout. But that was so strange...He hasn’t hallucinated like that in a while, and he can’t think of anything that would have caused him to lose time like that. He’s going to have to take this up with his psychiatrist later. 

“Mmhm...Flippy?” Cuddles slowly sits up and rubs at his eyes, looking utterly exhausted. Flippy turns to him, frowning a bit as he wraps the rope up. Cuddles’ voice is back to normal now. “What…What happened? Where’s-” 

“That was a pretty dangerous thing you did, you know.” He says, already in scolding mode. Cuddles immediately wilts. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

“B- Hff.” He sounds a bit sulky which...Yeah, that tracks. Cuddles loves to go against any rules possible, but even he can’t argue that this was dangerous. Even if Flippy still isn’t sure what “this” was. “But you took care of things, right!” 

“Do you think I’m going to be around all the time? Come on, Cuddles.” He says. 

“...Sorry, Flippy.” He says, and sounds it. “But, um..thank you. It was really scary.” 

“Of course. It wasn’t any problem. Just, promise me one thing?” 

“S-Sure! Of course!” 

“Don’t do it again.” He says, and Cuddles nods eagerly. There. Whatever happened will at least not happen again...probably. “Oh, and try to get to the doctor at some point today. You might be feeling better now, but who knows what kind of reaction you’ll be having later on?” 

“You sound like my dad.” He whines, but at least doesn’t seem too put off by the idea. Good. Flippy doesn’t want to have to be the one to strongarm anyone into getting checked out, because god only knows he’s not too good at that himself… “Uh, by the way, are you okay? That...what you did, that must have been really hard.” 

“Hm? Well, not really.” Because he’s so used to strange actions. But now that he thinks of it, he does feel a bit tired...And maybe a bit stressed, since his teeth don’t seem to be sitting quite right in his jaw. Nothing a few sleeping pills can’t fix, he’s sure. “I’m fine. Thanks for worrying. Now I’m gonna go let the other two back in, and it’ll be up to you to take care of yourself, got it?” 

Giggles and Toothy are very easy to convince to take care of Cuddles no matter what the bunny says otherwise, and with that Flippy is finally free to head back to the church. He’s exhausted. He’s still not entirely sure what happened. But...If Cuddles is okay, he supposes that’s good enough. 

He goes inside the little apartment attached to the church after locking up, and immediately goes about his evening routine. He doesn’t think any more about the strange feelings of alienation in his very bones. He doesn’t pay any attention to the soft whispers that seem to be following him around the house. And he absolutely misses the warped reflection in one of the mirrors in his hallway.

Chapter Text

The next day he wakes up to his room trashed. This is not the first time this has happened, though he’d thought he’d long since grown out of it. And the clawmarks are a new, worrying development. But his hands seem fine when he studies them so at the very least he didn’t injure himself doing...whatever it was he did. 

He leaves his room like it is and goes to wash up. It’s not like anyone else is going to see it in disarray, and he’s got no interest in wasting half a morning cleaning it up when it may just happen again tonight. He splashes warm water on his face, ruffles his fur with a towel until it’s dry and fluffy, and looks into the mirror. 

Someone else is looking back. 

This does not surprise him as much as it may have when he was a younger man. He takes in his reflection: mostly him, but with more unkempt fur, surprisingly sharp teeth, and wild yellow eyes. Flippy blinks carefully until the hallucination slides from his vision like water droplets down the mirror, and sighs. That tears it, then. He’s going to have to talk to his doctor and get one of his dosages adjusted, again. And here he’d thought he’d finally found the perfect cocktail. 

It’s Monday which means he doesn’t have to do anything specific this morning which, Thank God because after last night he’s not sure he’d be able to scold anyone about being responsible. He gets dressed, shoves a despairingly burnt piece of toast into his mouth, and begins his daily chores. 

The church is so small that there’s really no point in hiring anyone else to help him except for the bare necessities, and he’s the only one who lives here. So it falls to him to do basic daily cleaning and tidying up. Even if barely anyone comes in he refuses to let a place that people will see day to day fall into disrepair. He picks up the broom from his kitchen and walks into the main church. 

It’s almost soothing, really, to clean. He doesn’t have to focus on anything while he works, and the church is so quiet he can get lost in his thoughts properly. For instance, about yesterday. 

He still doesn’t know quite what to make of it all. It was a lot like drugs or hallucinations, but something about that explanation doesn’t sit well with him. He’s been wondering if it was something to do with the town’s curse, but that also doesn’t seem exactly right. Most of the strangeness that happens doesn’t have a personality beyond one it steals from a resident. But whatever that was, it had a personality that he’s never seen before. Cruel and sneering and unrelenting, and very much unlike anyone he’s met in town. 

He pauses in wiping down one of the windows. If Cuddles comes into the church again any time soon, he’s going to have to talk to him about it. Flippy isn’t willing to believe in ghosts all of a sudden, but he isn’t the type to deny facts when they’re right in front of him. 

When he turns away from the window, he’s surprised to see someone sitting in the pews. He hadn’t heard anyone walk in. It’s a bit embarrassing to be caught cleaning but it’s early enough in the morning that he should be allowed to be as domestic as he likes. 

“Hello! Sorry, I didn’t see you there earlier.” He says as he walks over. The person doesn’t respond, their head bowed and hands clasped in front of them. He doesn’t recognize them but then, he doesn’t recognize everyone in town either. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

They don’t react for a moment, and he thinks they might not have heard him. Then they raise their head up towards him and he falls backwards, hitting the floor of the church with a solid thud. 

They look like their face has been ripped off in strips, their eyes sockets twin gashes in their skull. They don’t have a mouth so much as a furious slash through their bleeding muscle and sinew, and as he sits there frozen the gaping wound opens up and splits the creature’s face. It might not have eyes but he can feel the full force of its focus entirely on him. 

It screams , in a viscous, wild way that manages to sound accusatory. Flippy flinches, covers his ears, and closes his eyes. After a moment, the sound trails off and when he glances up again the creature is gone, the ringing in his ears the only thing to suggest it had ever been there at all. He stares at the empty pew, his pulse now the loudest thing in the church. 

Three hours later he’s still rattled, and the heavily-caffeinated coffee he’s drinking at the diner isn’t actually much help at all. But he called up Cuddles immediately after that and has spent the time between that and now trying desperately to calm down. And, failing that, decided to drink enough that he’d be jittery for a different reason. 

“Flippy!” Cuddles’ voice rings out in the relative quiet of the diner, and Flippy is honestly glad to hear him. He’s been too wrapped up in his thoughts. “Oh wow, you look awful.” 

“...Thanks.” He can’t keep the dryness out of his tone. Cuddles either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, and sits down across from him. He’s looking a lot better than yesterday, but Flippy supposes the young bounce back quickly. “Are you doing well? I was surprised by how energetic you were when I asked you to come out.” 

“Oh, well!” Cuddles shrugs, grinning broadly. “...Yeah, I mean, it was scary but I don’t remember much after the planchette flew off.” 

Hm. That’s a new part of the story. Not that he’d been listening too closely to Giggles’ talk of ouija, he admits. He’d still been worried about it being mental. Now...He’s not so sure. 

“I see. Can you tell me what happened beforehand?” He says, watching Cuddles carefully as Petunia walks up and sets down what looks like a sugar overload. She knows everyone’s regular orders so it’s not that he doubts her judgement, but wow. 

“Why?” Cuddles asks, and it doesn’t sound defensive. Just curious. “Oh no, did something happen? Or- Are we in trouble?” 

“No. No, nothing like that. But I do have to make a report to my superiors.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue. He’s been thinking up this excuse all morning. The only superior he has is Lumpy, and he hasn’t so much as checked in for the past five years. “But you won’t be shamed or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Oh! Okay, good. ‘Cause my mom would find out, and I am so not about that life.” Cuddles crosses his eyes as he attempts to lick some of the whipped cream off his nose, and in that moment Flippy finds himself unbearably fond. He’s a cute guy, even if he’s a bit too energetic for him usually. 

He wonders what would happen if he broke his cup across his pretty face. 

Flippy pauses.

Closes his eyes for a moment and lets that thought roll over him. Lets it exist, and then breathes out. 

“Flippy?” 

“Mm. Sorry, I was thinking. Can we start from the beginning?” He smiles at him warmly. 

“Oh, sure! Um, let’s see...Last week we went out and bought a ouija board from a thrift store. There really wasn’t anything weird about it, it was just a normal ooky spooky kid’s game!” Cuddles huffs. “We were gonna have a sleepover yesterday, so we all hung out earlier, and Giggles suggested we play around with the board. None of us really believed in that stuff, like, seriously, so we thought it’d be a good warm up for watching horror later. 

“We turned off the lights, lit some candles for effect, and started asking the board questions. We weren’t expecting much, I mean- The board was made of really cheap plastic and the planchette was cracked and fixed with tape. It was supposed to be a game, but…” He trails off and fiddles with his cup, uncertainty on his face. 

“But?” Flippy says encouragingly. He has to be patient, even though he wants to shake Cuddles to be quicker. 

“Um..Something did answer. We didn’t think it was real at first! I thought it was Toothy, and he thought it was me. Him and Gigs both did, actually…” He pouts a little at that. “But then we all took our hands off and it kept moving. And, like, you know how weird this town is! We were excited! It didn’t seem like there was an easy way for it to kill us with just a stupid fake board. 

“So, um. When it asked if we would be nice enough to let it hang around, I...stupidly said yes. Like, embarrassingly fast. And after that I can’t remember anything until after you freed me!” 

“...I see.” Flippy tries not to sound like he’s judging him, but, well. “And, did this...entity say anything about itself? Or was there perhaps anything that stood out to you?” 

“Hrm...Uhhh...Oh! It said that it couldn’t tell us its name, but that we could call it Cain.” He rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that ridiculous? I think it was the fact that it was such a dramatic name that I said yes, I mean...You’ve gotta be really lonely to come up with something so embarrassing, right?” 

Flippy has to set down his cup because the urge to throw it at Cuddles was really overwhelming just now. Not his feelings, for sure, but just as real. It’s getting on his nerves, to be honest. 

“Thank you, Cuddles, you’ve been a great help. I’m sure I’ll be able to write up my report with no issues.” He gives him a smile and stands up a little shakily. 

“Oh, okay! No problem! And, um, if that weird bible nerd gives you any trouble, just-” He’s not even able to finish his sentence before the light fixture above their table creaks and the chain holding it up snaps. Cuddles’ head is crushed in by it, splattering the table and Flippy in gore. 

“What was- Oh no! Father!” Petunia pokes her head out of the kitchen and gasps a little. Then she’s rushing over, with a wet cloth already in hand. “Are you alright? Oh, poor Cuddles…” 

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Thankfully.” He takes the cloth with a nod and sighs as he starts wiping off the worst of the blood. He can feel panic starting to creep up his spine at the sight of so much gore, and turns away from the table to take a few deep breaths. No, no, that was actually a terrible idea, he should have stepped outside first. The smell of blood is too thick, too pungent, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“Father…? Are you okay?” Petunia asks, her voice soft. Flippy turns to answer her. 

And then he blacks out. 

When he comes back to himself, he’s back at the church. This is slightly disconcerting, but not all that worrisome. What is concerning, however, is the fact that he seems to be covered in even more blood than he remembers and he aches a bit as if he’d done something strenuous. That’s not normal. 

He goes to wash his hands before picking up his phone and trying to call Petunia to apologize for...whatever he’d done, but she doesn’t pick up. Which is, again, not normal. It wasn’t busy when he was at the diner and even when it’s a rush Petunia at least personally answers to put you on hold. 

This is officially too many unexplained events for him to dismiss as within normal weirdness. And it’s not even the type of weirdness that can be waved away as a concerning but expected part of a breakdown. Violence is not part of what happens when his mental health gets worse, and it never has been. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s learned that the most impossible thing can still happen, thanks to his time in this town. And unfortunately, it’s looking more and more likely that whatever happened yesterday, it wasn’t just some innocent ghost looking for a little trouble. Whatever it was, it meant business, and has the power to make that everyone else’s problem. 

And it’s attached itself to Flippy.

Chapter Text

What Flippy knows about possession is mostly from pop culture. The beloved family member suddenly starts acting strange, there are unexplainable medical mysteries that happen with them, mysterious accidents, the works. You could always tell who was possessed by their bloodshot eyes, so when Flippy looks into his mirror and doesn’t see anything different he’s almost disappointed. 

Then again it seems that whatever’s taken root in him isn’t interested in physical changes. 

As hard as he tries, he can’t remember what exactly happened at the diner. There’s just a black box where his memories would be, which is...not actually all that unusual for him. He’s lost time a lot in his life. Between his various traumatic brain injuries and disorders and medication he’s got more memory holes than not. But this is different. This feels wrong, in a way he can’t fully articulate. 

Then there’s the issue of what to actually fucking do. Because, look, he knows all the details about what to do for other people, but none of the horror movies have prepared him for a priest being the one to be possessed. At least, none in which they don’t immediately die. But he wants to keep that as an absolute last resort. 

He sighs and rubs at his face, turning away from the mirror finally. Well, maybe after a good night’s sleep he can- 

Oh. Oh! That’s a great idea. 

He smiles to himself and heads to his bedroom, which despite his cleaning efforts from this morning is still a mess. He’s going to have to get it fixed at some point, because the church is hard enough to live in without giant gouges in the damn walls. But he’s certain that he’ll just be racking up costs if he doesn’t take care of the possession beforehand, since something tells him that this...thing in him will take extreme pleasure in ruining his things. 

He gets in bed and lays down, closing his eyes. Back when he was younger, he’d once tried meditation. It went horribly, as it turns out that meditation and trauma not only don’t go hand in hand but they actively try to murder each other. But as he got further through his therapy it turned into something he could count on to help him calm down pretty consistently. And now he can fall asleep with just a bit of meditating. 

The idea is that if it’s something that’s taking over his mind, then the easiest way to approach it would be to go into his mind. He has full control over his dreams and thoughts, so he’ll have the upper hand. Whether this is a spirit or a demon or something else, he’s confident that it would take a lot longer than a single day for it to be able to control his mind as well as he does. 

Flippy is able to fall asleep relatively easy, but what he doesn’t expect is to wake up almost immediately. Or. He thinks he’s awake. He’s still in his room, on his bed. He looks up and- Oh. 

There are three doors in his room, where normally there would be one. Definitely sleeping, then. 

He stands cautiously, looking around. Besides the doors, there doesn’t seem to be anything different about his room. Even when having vivid dreams, Flippy was used to things being off about his surroundings. Things he didn’t actually own in real life being present, or everything being just wrong looking. But this is...unnervingly normal. 

Again, except for the doors. 

They’re different styles. One looks like his regular bedroom door, one reminds him of the doors that were used where he was stationed in the army, and one looks like the bedroom door from his childhood room. So, it’s pretty obvious which one he’s going through. 

He pushes open his bedroom door and sighs as the dream becomes a little more clearly dreamlike. The hallway that leads to the rest of the living area is dark, looking like it hasn’t been touched in years. The floor creaks under every step he takes, and he’s sure he can smell the coppery tone of blood. He’s a little insulted, honestly. Does the demon think this is how he keeps house? That’s so rude. 

He steps into the living room and freezes. Sitting on his couch is- Well- It’s him. But it is not him. He does not sit like that, his smile does not slice across his face, and above all his eyes are pretty fucking distinctly not an eerie gold. 

He supposes it must be the demon trying to throw him off. What other reason could there be for him to be wearing his appearance like an ill-fitting suit? 

“So.” He says, breaking the suffocating silence by any means necessary. “I assume you’re, er, Cain?” 

The demon laughs, a sound like nails on a chalkboard overlaid with a skipping record. Flippy decides to make him laugh as little as possible. 

“Yes, I am.” He sounds smug. “I’m glad you’re the honorable type to believe someone when they tell you their name. Unlike that bunny friend of yours.” 

“...Do you mean, do I believe that you’re one of the first sons of humans, who killed his brother and was cursed to walk the earth forever?” Flippy pauses. “No. I don’t. Do I believe your name is Cain? Yes. It’s not that rare of a name.” He smiles at the demon, who looks a little disgruntled. 

“Ugh. You’re one hell of a priest, talking to a demon so casually.” He leans back and smirks, confidence back as easily as that. “And one hell of a priest to have all this...baggage.” He gestures with a hand that is holding papers he previously was not. He flips through them, and Flippy catches sight of a few familiar papers. Various intake forms, what look like discharge papers, medication prescriptions. He probably shouldn’t be able to recognize anything, but he has to remind himself that he’s in a dream. 

“Many people who have difficult lives turn to faith.” He says, sounding like he’s telling a joke. “It isn’t unusual.” 

The demon smiles. It is not remotely sincere. 

“Sure, sure, you ain’t wrong. But man…” He flips through the papers. “Lotsa murders. Sure, you were in the army, I’m sure some of these were even warranted. And whoof, your psych evals-” 

“Sorry, are you trying to make me feel...What, bad? Guilty?” Flippy crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “It won’t work. I’ve been doing therapy literally to feel less like shit about all that. You’re going to need to try harder than bringing up the past.” 

He immediately regrets saying that. He has had a horrible habit since he was a kid of snarking at people who are way more powerful than he is. It’s gotten him into a lot of trouble in his life but he thinks he just might have outdone himself this time. 

But the demon just smiles. This does not do anything to calm Flippy. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. You’re tough aren’t you Father? Got a lot of life experience.” The demon relaxes against the couch, smirking. “That’s great. I like a bit of challenge.” 

“Oh, uh, no that’s not what I-”

Flippy wakes up. He stares at the ceiling, confused as to why it looks unfamiliar before realizing it’s the living room. Great. So he sleepwalked in here. That’s not going to be super annoying or anything. He sits up, looking around, and it’s at least a relief that this room isn’t wrecked too. 

He makes his way back to his room, thinking. It’s true that his idea worked, but he didn’t exactly get anything helpful out of it. If anything, he made things worse for himself and made the demon in him more likely to cause problems. He groans, thinking about it. 

He didn’t think it would be that annoying to be told that he’s a bad person. As if he doesn’t know that! And he wasn’t really telling the truth about being over it, but he doubts that the demon, “Cain” or whatever, will be able to do anything worse to him than he’s already done to himself when it comes to the past. But that just gives him a lot more options for the present. 

He sits down at his desk and takes out a journal, before beginning to write. The details of the dream are starting to fade, and he doesn’t want to be at a disadvantage because he can’t remember. Though, even as he tries to forget, the scene of the demon using his face remains as clear as day. It was so wrong. Like one of those creepy dolls that people make to look like humans but are just left of being accurate, but not inaccurate enough to be funny. 

He hopes that the demon decides to choose some other way of showing himself. If Flippy has to constantly see his own face like that, he’s going to have  a bad time.

Chapter Text

There’s no time to lose. Now that the demon has made himself and his intentions (somewhat) clear, Flippy has to act. He doesn’t want to wait on anything- Not the permission to perform an exorcism from the church, not someone giving him a “second opinion”, nothing. If he waits he isn’t sure he’ll be able to stick to his plans and keep up his confidence. And God only knows what the demon is planning in the meantime. 

The church doesn’t exactly go around explaining how to deal with exorcisms, at least not to new priests who barely pass muster. There’s plenty of information on the internet but Flippy isn’t exactly confident in it considering half of it talks about how demons aren’t real. And it seems like it’s more difficult to do an exorcism on yourself, but really...What choice does he have? 

He can just imagine it now. Oh, yeah, he’s doing good also he’s pretty sure he’s being possessed by a literal actual demon and not just the demons he’s had to shoulder before this. No, he doesn’t need to be sectioned, what are you talking about? 

So, yeah. No way is he going to tell anyone. 

He takes a step back and stares at the altar in front of him. It’s late at night, so he’s already closed the church up. He’s spent the last half hour gathering up all of the most holy things he can think of- A few rosaries, more than a few bibles, the cross that sits in his room- and setting them up on the altar. There wasn’t any details about how to set things up that he could find, so it’s ended up looking like a kid threw everything together. 

It should be fine. It’s the intent that matters, right? Right. He’ll just ignore the fact that the last time he felt anywhere near God was when he was sixteen and he certainly hasn’t felt anything like that since. If God really cares, then He won’t mind that Flippy hasn’t been a perfect believer. It’ll be more important that there’s a demon in the Earthly plane, he’s sure. 

He takes a deep breath, and begins to pray. 

There were specific prayers, specific rites according to his research. Some were more familiar to others. He ended up going with one that didn’t seem to need more people involved than just the priest: the prayer of St. Micheal. He doesn’t think that’s even a part of the denomination he’s ended up in, but that’s not really the most important thing right now. 

What is important is the moment he starts praying the entire room feels like a lead weight pressing down on him from above. He gasps and for a moment the pressure lets up which just tells him he’s on the right track. He screws his eyes shut and continues with the prayer. It feels so...wrong. Not unlike his anxiety attacks, where his chest will constrict until he’s struggling to take in even one breath. He’s quickly brought to whispering the prayer, only able to bring in that much air. 

The pressure seems to subside for a moment, and then he feels a presence behind him. He knows it isn’t real. No one is able to come in here without him knowing- opening the doors alone is always a huge noisy deal. It’s just something the demon is doing to break his concentration and get him to stop. He knows, deep inside, if he was less determined and stubborn it would probably work. 

That stubbornness doesn’t stop him from hearing footsteps. It doesn’t stop them from getting closer, the sharper steps against the marble floors muffling against the rug leading up to the altar. And it sure as fuck doesn’t stop him from feeling hands touching his shoulders. 

He jumps, fumbling his words. He didn’t expect to actually feel anything. Then he takes in a deep breath. No, he’s not feeling it. The demon is just making his brain think he is. He continues, screwing his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to think about it. The hands move, one going to touch his throat and the other cupping his jaw tenderly, like a lover. He feels his fur stand on end, the touch too intimate and unwelcome to be comfortable. 

“You aren’t going to be getting rid of me with that piss poor act, you know.” Ah. And there’s the demon. He sounds so smug it’s infuriating but Flippy keeps his eyes shut and his focus on the prayer. “Come on, Father. Why don’t you just give up? No one’s listening. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

He ignores him harder. This proves to be a mistake when the hands on him turn cruel, grabbing him roughly by the throat and yanking his head back. His eyes fly open and meet the demon’s sickly yellow eyes. His grin is more of a cruel sneer, lips raised enough to show off his unnaturally sharp teeth. Flippy’s pulse pounds in his ears, made all the more obvious by the fact that the demon doesn’t have one. 

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Flippy. You barely believe in yourself, let alone anything that can help you out here.” He laughs mirthlessly. “At least if you gave up I’d use your life to the fullest. Nothing like this pathetic bullshit you have going on now.” 

Flippy holds his gaze for a long moment before his eyes flick around the room and he closes them. 

“Yeah? Well, would death get rid of you?” He asks, voice low. The demon barks out a disbelieving laugh. 

“Uh? Yeah, probably! But as if a pussy like you is willing to-” 

There’s a long, low groan from above them and the demon lets go of Flippy so suddenly he falls backwards onto the floor. Lying on his back gives him a fantastic view of the chandelier, large and older than probably the church itself, and of that same chandelier coming undone from the ceiling and beginning to fall. 

“What the fu-” Is the last thing Flippy hears before it all goes black. 

Dying in Happy Tree is no longer strange. When he first died here, freshly discharged, it had been terrifying. It was an explosion at the gas station, and once he’d revived he’d been too frightened to leave his house for almost a month. Eventually he’d gotten more used to things, but the terror of dying that first time never really left him. 

When he wakes up in his bed that morning, he’s reminded of that feeling all over again. He sits up and clutches at his chest, the sensation of the shards of glass and twisted metal still in his skin. But there’s also a feeling of calm, which he hasn’t felt since he got possessed. He lets out a breath. He wasn’t entirely sure that dying would work in getting rid of the demon, but it seems like it was a gamble worth trying. 

He stands and stretches, going to open the blinds. It’s a beautiful day outside. The sun is warm but there’s a gentle breeze that cuts through any high temperatures. It’s made all the better by knowing he’s free of his immoral hitchhiker. 

Flippy turns around and nearly jumps out the window at the sight of himself standing in the doorway to his bedroom. God dammit. He’s genuinely, honestly about to lose himself to despair but something catches his attention before he can. Something’s different about the demon, and Flippy has the best view as the other man storms up to him and grabs him by the front of his shirt. The stupidest thought goes through his mind, that the demon feels strangely warm, before he’s shoved up against the wall. 

“You bastard .” He’s snarled at, and again it feels strange. Different to the other times he’s interacted with the demon. “You live in this town?! Fucker! You couldn’t have lived in a normal goddamn place without an age old curse to be a pain in the ass??” 

Oh. That’s what it is. He seems far more solid- More real? Less intimidating. Flippy blinks owlishly at him, utterly bewildered by this sudden anger about the town. It’s also like, super weird that demons apparently know about the curse. 

“What the hell are you talking about? I thought you said that if I died it’d get rid of you.” He says. He feels a lot more energy than he’s had in the last couple of days, which immediately translates into snarking. “Well, I did.” 

“Yeah! You did! And now our souls are irreversibly entwined because of this stupid town’s bullshit curse!” The demon shakes him hard and Flippy is too shocked to properly react at first. “I can not be stuck with you! I have a job to do, I can’t just stick around this horrible shitshow the entire time!” 

He’s looking at Flippy, obviously expecting him to say something, but Flippy’s brain is still reeling. How was he supposed to know something like that? How could he have possibly guessed that was even a thing?? 

“Huh.” Is all he can manage. “So does that mean you’re stuck with me?” 

“Does it- Yes! Yes, you asshole!” 

“And it means you can’t bother anyone else, and since I can’t die permanently you can’t leave to cause havoc?” 

“...I don’t like where you’re going with this.” He says, and Flippy just grins brightly.

“I do! Now it seems you have no choice but to act properly around me, Mr. Cain.” Flippy laughs a little bit and grabs his wrist, pulling him in closer. He wonders if it’s just the rush of the reset, but he feels more confident. “What do you think about that?” 

He just looks at Flippy, utterly bewildered, before disappearing between one blink and the next. Flippy glances down, surprised to see that he’s holding his own shirt and wrist. That...is weird. But he’s sure it’s fine. In fact, he’s completely confident that it’s fine! After all, he’s gotten over the worst parts now, for certain.

Chapter Text

Things start to go back to normal after that. The demon more or less disappears after their “conversation”, although Flippy isn’t hopeful enough to think that he’s gone for good. But he’s quiet which is more than he’s been this entire time. 

And it’s a good thing, too, because Flippy can’t hold off on service any longer than he already has. It isn’t that a lot of people come to the services, but if he puts it off for too long Lumpy might notice and that’s a discussion of “responsibility” he does not want to deal with. 

He tucks his papers under his arm as he heads to the front doors, and sighs as he hears the sound of a second pair of footsteps beside him. 

“Why do you even bother doing services if you know no one’s gonna come and listen to a washed up old man tell them to be better people?” 

Flippy sighs. Unfortunately, more quiet does not mean completely silent. 

"Because there are people who will attend. ...And I'd rather they listen to me than some of the others in this town. You've got access to my memories, can you really say I'm the worst person they could go to?" 

A pause. 

"Fuck, I hate this town. Y'all really live like this?" 

Flippy decides to go back to ignoring him. He's got a job to do, after all. He pushes open the doors and is surprised to see Cuddles standing just outside. He looks nervous, like he's been pacing for a while, and jumps when he turns and sees Flippy. 

"Flippy!" He says, and hurries up the stairs to greet him. "Hi! Fuck, how are you holding up? I was worried about what happened after the diner thing- I heard you got killed in the church? Is that even supposed to be able to happen? Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, thank you Cuddles. It's happened before. Nowhere is safe in the town, I'm afraid." He says. "Are you going to join in the service today?" 

"Y-Yeah! After all, I was possessed, even if it was for only a bit. What if there's still something in me??" He says. Flippy should probably tell him that there's no chance of that, but he would much rather lie a little bit in order to have at least one person in the pews today. 

"You are a terrible priest, what the fuck." The demon mutters again, and Flippy ignores him, again. It's much easier now that he doesn't feel like he's constantly being forced to fight against him. He's dealt with his fair share of people elbowing their way into his life and giving their opinions on his actions after all. 

Flippy stays outside at the doors, waiting as people come in slowly. It's more than usual, but it would still make a normal priest cry- Five people instead of the usual none. Giggles, Cuddles and Toothy are here, but so are Pop and Cub. And, yes, perhaps it's a little silly to consider the literal baby to be a part of the congregation, but he's desperate okay? It's not like Cub is unwelcome- He's probably the best behaved person in the entire town. And he actually listens, to boot. 

He keeps the front doors open so no one bakes in the complete lack of A/C, and heads back up to the altar. He adjusts his papers, looks up, and pauses. There are a few more people in the pews than there were when he walked up here, which is strange. Normally there'd be a lot of noise of someone walking in, or at the very least quiet greetings from the others already in the room. But, honestly? He's missed far more obvious things before, it wouldn't shock him to know that he's done it again. 

Today's service is about forgiving yourself and staying to the path of God even though it might be difficult. It was already planned, yes, but also seeing Cuddles and friends makes Flippy want to have it be as pointed as possible. He doesn't want them to blame themselves for what happened, especially since everything's fine now and no one was hurt very badly. But on the other hand he's adding in a bit of "Stay true to the Lord our God" because the last thing he wants them to do is try anything like that again. He only wants to be possessed by one demon, thanks.

As he makes the call to pray and bows his head, he feels the demon trying to get his attention. He wants to ignore it, but it's subtle and that could actually mean something important. 

"Look," Cain says. "You've got ghosts." 

What.

Flippy peeks up as much as he can without fully raising his head, and studies the congregation. Surely not. Surely his bad luck would have stopped at giving him a literal demon to deal with, and wouldn't continue on to make it worse with ghosts- 

Ah. 

The people he'd thought were just late in coming are, at second glance, very much see through. He doesn't fully recognize them, which isn't a total surprise. After all, if they're ghosts in Tree Town, then they must have died before he even came to live here. There's a dog missing most of their head (how did he not pick up on that in the first place???), some sort of mouse with a missing ear, and... 

He squints and frowns. There's some sort of black mass sitting nearby Cub and Pop. It has the shape of someone sitting with their head bowed in prayer, but he can't make out many details besides that. It could perhaps be...bear shaped? That would make the most sense, if it's nearby them, but also... 

He has to shake himself out of those thoughts and end the prayer with a quiet "amen". He isn't sure what to make of these spirits, if they are in fact spirits and not just another hallucination forced on him by his hitchhiker. He thanks everyone for coming and tells them to be safe. It's not the most dramatic or world-shaking service, to be sure, but he doesn't think everything has to be that way. If it makes people feel better about their lives then that's good enough for him. 

He stays at the altar for a few more moments, going over things in his head, when he sees Pop scoop Cub up and start walking towards him. Not unusual, but it'd probably be a little rude to just stand here and watch, so he hurries down the stairs. 

"Pop! It's so good to see you, especially here." He says, smiling broadly. He ignores the smokey mass following Pop, at least for now. "How are you?" 

"Oh, can't complain, can't complain. That was a really nice service, Father. It helped a lot." Pop says. Flippy pauses before taking a closer look at him. He has heavy, dark circles under his eyes and his fur is unbrushed. Cub, on the other hand, looks fine. Bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever. 

“...Is there something you need to talk about?” Flippy says as gently as he can. Pop is one of those people who just won’t ask for help until he’s practically dying on the streets. It’s a problem especially when it relates to Cub. 

“...Yes, actually. Is there somewhere private we can go to?” Pop rubs at his head, looking very tired all of a sudden. He must really need help if he’s giving into Flippy’s concern so quickly. 

“Yes, yes of course! Come with me.” He says, gesturing as he walks. He stays ahead both to lead Pop to the other room and so he doesn’t have to look at the mysterious shadow anymore. It’s starting to give him a headache, which never means anything good. 

“Is that a real ghost?” He thinks as loud as he can. He’s still not used to actually communicating with the demon, let alone doing it easily. But if he started talking to him out loud he’d look completely insane. 

“Ohh, now you want my help?” Ah, and immediately Flippy regrets even asking. “I’m actually not totally sure. I can’t tell as easily now that I’m bound to you. It’s like a bluetooth signal cutting in and out.” 

“...I hate that.” He mumbles softly. At Pop’s strange look he blushes and bustles around the small kitchen before setting down some milk for Cub and coffee for Pop. He sure looks like he needs it. “I-I mean, uh. Why don’t you tell me a little about what’s been going on? If there’s any way I can help, I promise I’ll do my best.” 

Pop nods, but doesn’t say anything right away. Flippy watches him for a moment before his attention is taken over once again by the strange black mass. It’s so...uncomfortable to watch, but he can’t quite tear his eyes away. Its movements are almost like someone living, but jerky and somewhat glitchy- One second it’s not moving at all and the next it’s got what might be a hand touching Cub. He doesn’t seem to notice it, or maybe it just isn’t something important enough for a toddler to notice. But when it brushes against Pop he shivers and pulls in closer to himself. 

“I think…” He finally says after taking a sip of his coffee. “I think I’m being haunted by my wife.”

Chapter Text

Flippy hadn’t moved to town yet when Ma was alive. He’d only ever heard stories from the others in town, but from what he knows she seemed like a wonderful, kind woman who definitely wouldn’t be the type to haunt her husband and child. But he doesn’t want to make that kind of assumption when it comes to ghosts that are right in front of him. 

“Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on, from the beginning?” He says. Pop has such a look of relief that Flippy actually feels a bit bad. It makes sense, though. He’s probably been suffering with this alone, thinking no one would believe him. Even if it is Happy Tree, there are certain things that people are just completely disbelieving in. 

“Well...it started about a week ago. I was in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner as usual, when I realized that one of the knives I’d been using to cut the meat was missing. Well, I panicked, because, uh.” Pop shifts a bit uncomfortably, holding Cub closer. “You know how this town goes… But Cub was fine, nowhere near a knife. So at first I’d thought I’d just managed to misplace it, just a regular brain fart. But when I went to put Cub to bed, there the knife was. Embedded in one of his teddy bears.” 

“...Was it a specific one?” Flippy asks, already dreading the answer. Pop nods. 

“I-It...was the one that Ma gave him, that looks like me.” Pop says. Flippy suppresses a sigh. Of course it was. “And the knife was right through the chest… Normally I wouldn’t think too much about it, but it really stuck with me! Something about it was just so horribly ominous… And ever since then there’s been these weird things happening in the house. It’s been extremely cold even though we have the heat on, and things have been going missing and coming back around all torn up, and-” 

“I don’t need to hear everything.” Flippy says, holding up his hand. He can tell how anxious Pop is getting, and doesn’t need him to work himself into a frantic state. “But I think I have the basic idea. So what, exactly, makes you think it’s Ma?” 

“Well… Normally I wouldn’t think it. I mean, she was never cruel in life, and she was great! And- No, uh, you’ve heard all the stories. Um. I’ve seen her. A female bear, near Cub? And with Cub never being hurt… I can’t think it’s anyone else.” 

Flippy considers this. He still isn’t fully convinced, but that at least makes it kind of suspicious. He reaches into his drawer and takes out his serious journal- Not the one with a unicorn on the cover. He thinks...maybe that would be the wrong one for this mood. He makes a few notes, humming. 

“...I think I want to come over to your home and observe everything for myself. Things might be different with someone else around.” He says, looking up at Pop. Pop looks...nervous, which he certainly gets. “Though I’ll go, uh, dressed differently. You never know what might take offense to the priest’s collar.” 

“O-Okay… Could you come over today? I know it’s short notice, but I really don’t want this to spiral out of control more than it has already…” Pop glances at Cub again, who seems to have fallen asleep peacefully. Flippy watches as the shadow touches him. Maybe it really is Ma. 

“Yes, of course. Just let me go get a few things, okay? I’ll meet you out in front.” Flippy says, and stands. Pop does as well, scooping Cub up into his arms and rocking him a bit. His nervous energy is enough that Flippy can practically feel it. It’s a shock Cub isn’t woken up by it. 

As soon as he steps out and the door shuts behind him, Flippy collapses back into his chair. He rubs at his forehead and shuts his eyes, trying to relax. But...it’s impossible, really. This sort of thing, it’s never happened before. 

“What do you think about all this?” He says, out loud. 

“Oh, so now you want my opinions?” Comes Cain’s voice from behind him. Flippy rolls his eyes. If the demon really didn’t want to be contacted, he wouldn’t have responded so quickly. “Hmph. Just seems like your average revenge haunting to me. What could be special about a ghost?” 

“But we’re in this town, remember. And Ma died…” Flippy pauses. Whenever he thinks too hard about the passage of time in the town, it hurts his head. He’s known Cub for a few years now, he’s sure, but it’s not like the baby has grown much more than a few inches. Certainly not by years… “Um, she died long ago enough that it doesn’t make sense for her to suddenly come back as some ghost, you know? Plus we’re in this town… There’s not really ghosts unless it’s close to Halloween.” 

“...What the fuck.” He says, and then shakes his head. “Alright, fine. Probably not just a ghost if it’s showing up so late, then. Maybe a curse, or a grudge. Not something a half baked fake priest like you could fix.” 

Flippy ignores that last part. He was enough of a priest to deal with Cain, so why would this be any different? He sighs and stands. 

“If it’s not a ghost, then it’s not Ma, and I can take care of things easier. It’s only right, especially since Pop’s a good friend of mine.” He says, and ignores, again, the annoyed feeling he gets from his body sharer. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to the experience of feeling someone else’s emotions that are so completely different to his. 

He walks out, waves at Pop, and they head to his house. 

The moment they get within a few yards of it, Flippy starts feeling...strange. A tension in his stomach that he can’t quite place, until it suddenly hits him: it’s the same way he felt whenever he was about to go on a dangerous mission, and knew he might die at any moment. He stops walking at the path leading up to the house, frowning at it. It...looks normal. Nothing that would suggest anything bad is happening inside, or that it would be troublesome enough to stress out the inhabitant. 

“...You can feel it too, huh?” Pop says, jolting Flippy out of his thoughts. “Yeah, it’s real overwhelming the first time. People have kind of stopped coming over because of it.”

“...Has it been like this the entire time?” 

“Yep. Luckily Cub hasn’t been affected yet but I don’t know if that’ll last...And no matter what I do it’s the same.” Pop sighs heavily. He really sounds like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Flippy can’t help the sympathy he feels- after all, he’s gone through something similar. 

“I’ll do whatever I can to help. Let’s go in.” He says, and braces himself as he walks up the path to the house. It’s worse the closer he gets. Something in him is screaming, insisting that he has to run or he’s going to be in a lot of danger. He hates that feeling so much. 

The moment he steps over the threshold the suffocating feeling disappears, replaced with something...different. He’s not entirely sure what this feeling is, no matter how much he tries to concentrate on it. But it’s uncomfortable, and it isn’t making him feel much more confident about what’s going on. 

Pop’s home is so warm and homey, Flippy has enjoyed visiting to relax in the past. Everything is so...normal. From the bowling trophies on the wall to the toys that are strewn around, it’s just a regular house with a single father and a baby. But right now, it’s as if there’s a barely-there veil covering the entire house. It makes the entire area seem gloomier. More miserable. 

“You can see why I’m worried, right?” Pop says, setting Cub into his playpen. “I don’t want to raise Cub in a house that feels so awful! But I don’t know what else to do.” 

“I understand, yeah. Well like I said I’ll see what I can do.” Flippy gives him his kindest smile and Pop does seem to relax a bit at that. 

“I already tried sage, and reading from the bible… But it might have a better effect if it’s a holy man doing it. Right?” Pop looks so hopeful Flippy doesn’t really have the heart to say no, so instead he smiles. That’s just as good, right? 

Pop walks off to the kitchen and Flippy follows, because it seems like things have been mostly happening to him. Cub is comfortable snuggling one of his plushies, and Flippy…. Hopes nothing will happen to him in the interim. He hates being witness to anything bad when it comes to Cub. 

Pop smiles back at him tiredly. He’s looking older than his actual age, every line in his face more pronounced. It hurts Flippy’s heart to see, especially since things must be extremely bad for his friend to actually be showing these emotions. As long as he’s known him, Pop has been the type to blow everything off unless it directly involves Cub. 

“...You’re taking care of yourself, right?” Flippy asks, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I know this is probably real stressful, and I don’t want you getting sick because of that.” 

“Ah, a bit late for that I’m afraid.” Pop says, chuckling as he pours hot water into the coffee pot. “I’ve been trying but...I’ve been so damn stressed about what whatever this thing is could do to Cubby. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to him because of me!” 

“I understand what you mean, but it wouldn’t be because of you. It’s the fault of whatever’s haunting you. But don’t worry, we’ll take care of things.” Flippy squeezes his shoulder lightly and goes to get mugs from the cupboard. As he reaches up, his eyes naturally drift off to the side, scanning the kitchen as he always has. But unlike what always happens, there’s a shadow in the corner of the room. 

Almost as soon as he realizes this his fingers touch the mugs and they shatter- Causing him to stumble back and swear. He doesn’t even get a moment to think about that, however, before Cub’s cry pierces the air. He and Pop stare at each other for a breath before running out of the room.

Chapter Text

Flippy is the first out the door, with Pop hot on his heels. Not that they have very far to go- it’s obvious what’s happening as soon as they step out into the living room. 

Cub is sitting in the middle of a maelstrom of furniture, wailing his little heart out. Nothing is hitting him, but that doesn’t make it any less frightening. And Flippy isn’t at all confident that he’s safe even if it seems the spirit is intentionally avoiding him. There’s no such thing as a lucky escape in this town, and he really doesn’t need to see a child get killed in front of him today. 

Of course, Pop immediately runs towards Cub, only not getting his head bashed in by a chair because Flippy yanks him out of the way. 

“Let me go!” He yells, and jolts a bit when Flippy shakes him. “Flip-”

“You aren’t going to get him just by barging in! And you don’t want to have Cub see you die, again, do you??” That seems to make Pop pause and Flippy shoves him behind him as a book goes right for them. It hits him on the shoulder but does pretty much nothing but sting a little- It would probably hurt someone else far more, but he’s been shot almost in that exact place before. He’s fine. 

He watches the spirit for a moment. It looks like it’s getting more and more agitated as they just stand there, so he has to do something before it decides that they’re better off dead. He squeezes Pop’s shoulder to get his attention. 

“I’m going to divert her attention.” He whispers. It might be useless since it’s a spirit but better safe than sorry. “You grab Cub, and get out the back door. I’ll deal with her as much as I can. Okay?” 

Pop only hesitates a moment before nodding. Hopefully with them out of the way Flippy can do…something. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Cain says, and Flippy rolls his eyes. Not the best timing, but also his demon attachment doesn’t actually seem inclined to help either side so. It’s fine. 

“No. But that hasn’t stopped me before.” He grins a little bit, though it’s somewhat forced. If he fakes being confident enough maybe the vengeful spirit will be intimidated/impressed enough that maybe it won’t kill him immediately. Low possibilities of that, but hey. 

He glances at Pop, who nods. Good enough. Flippy charges into the storm, ducking under a desk smoothly. His plan seems to be working initially- The spirit seems to think he’ll go after Cub and attacks him with much more strength than before. A piece of the chair breaks off against the floor and flings itself towards him, and it’s a surprise to everyone in the room when he catches it when it’s only a few inches from his face. 

He’d feel a lot more smug about pulling off that kind of move if he didn’t immediately get clocked on the head from the other direction. He stumbles forward and his vision goes a bit dark around the edges. It certainly wasn’t a hit made with any intent of holding back. Better that he takes it than Pop or worse, Cub. 

Speaking of…He glances over to the side and sees Pop rushing out the back door with Cub in his arms. Good. That means that whatever happens next will be less embarrassing. He reaches into his jacket and brings out his rosary, wrapping it around his knuckles. 

“I know you can hear me!” He has to shout to hear himself over the crashing. “Listen! I don’t want to hurt you! We can just talk!” He has to duck almost as soon as he says that. Not encouraging. Fine, then, time for plan B. Hopefully this one is more successful. 

He forces his way through until he’s as close as possible to the entity. It doesn’t seem to know what, exactly, to make of him getting close like this. Which really, he gets. As far as he can remember from his previous research into exorcisms and anything similar, people try to stay as far away from spirits as possible, especially when they’re violent. And he understands that. No one normal and sane would be about to do what he is. 

“Wait, you aren’t seriously about to do what I think you are-” Is what he hears from the demon before he slams the fist wrapped in the rosary right into the spirit’s stomach. To his utter, absolute shock it connects, making the spirit fly backwards in a way that it clearly isn’t controlling, and hit the wall. He didn’t even know spirits could hit physical objects like that. All the furniture crashes down around him, making a terrible racket. 

“It worked?” He says, shocked. 

“It worked?!” Cain says, gleeful. 

For a moment Flippy is too stunned to move. He didn’t actually expect it to work, since it was just the frantic planning of a panicked mind. The spirit doesn’t move, instead flickering in and out of sight. Not like it’s trying to disappear on purpose, but rather that it can’t quite control itself like it could before. It’s strange, but now that it’s not whipping everything around like before it looks almost pathetic lying there. Flippy finds himself almost pitying it. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, stepping closer. “Please, let’s just talk. Why are you attacking Pop? Is there anything I can do to help?” 

The spirit doesn’t seem to give him any response, and for a moment Flippy is worried they can’t actually communicate. But then it lunges forward and he reacts fast enough that he’s sure it isn’t entirely his reaction- grabbing it by the throat and squeezing. It gives a choking, rattling gasp and he realizes that he used the rosary hand. It’s too late to take it back, though, the spirit is already coming apart at the seams. 

But just before it does, it grabs Flippy’s hand and growls, pressing something small and hard into his palm. He can’t make out anything it says next- It all comes in like static instead of anything coherent. But…He does pick up one word-

Revenge . 

He opens his hand and stares at the small pin. It has a design that he doesn’t quite recognize, but something about it tugs at his memory. He knows it…He knows he does. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t actually remember what about it is so familiar. 

“Flippy?” There’s a hand on his shoulder and he nearly jumps out of his skin. “What happened? Are you okay?” He turns and tries to relax. Pop is looking at him with concern, which means he’s done a terrible job of hiding his shock and confusion. He stuffs his hand in his pocket and gives him what he hopes is a more convincing smile than it feels. 

“Oh I’m fine!” 

Revenge, the spirit had said. Revenge, and it was possible Ma. There’s a pit of anxiety forming in Flippy’s stomach, and he has to force his smile to stay up. 

“Everything’s just fine.”

Chapter Text

Flippy lays on his back in his bed, staring up at the pin. He had hidden it from Pop once the other bear had come rushing back in. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret, but…He couldn’t bring himself to just ask outright if Pop knew what the ghost was talking about. The man thought that was his wife , suddenly asking “oh, yeah, by the way do you know why she’d be carrying this around? Also did you kill her?” 

That would have gone down great. 

The pin is a frustrating mystery in that he recognizes it, he knows he does, but he just…can’t place it. Whenever he think on it, really concentrates, there’s just a hole in his memories. Which isn’t that unusual. But it doesn’t make it any less exasperating to deal with. 

“You have control over my memories, right? Can you look into them and see if I really do know what this is from?” He says, glancing over to the side where Cain is sitting on a chair. Does the demon really need to be doing something so…casually, every time they talk? Or does he just like pretending that he’s not trapped in Flippy’s mind? 

“No go.” Cain says too fast to be totally honest. “I ain’t never seen that kinda design before, whether in your broken ass memories or my own.” Always with the insults. Flippy is concerned about how used to them he’s getting. 

“Are you sure? I mean, have you actually even checked, or are you just saying that you did so I’ll stop asking about it?” Silence. He sighs. “I know that it’s in one of my black spots. But you’re a demon! How can you not be able to look at them? Or are you too scared?” 

Cain twitches at the clear baiting, baring his teeth at Flippy. He knows it’s stupid to annoy an actual literal demon who could very easily snap him like a twig mentally, but…Even if he does, the curse will just reset any progress he’s made on harassing Flippy. It’s fine. 

“I’m not scared of your stupid baby memories! There ain’t a damn thing in there that’s scarier than the things I’ve dealt with!” He hisses at him, actually looking furious for once. But Flippy can’t quite take him seriously when his accent comes out so strongly. It just reminds him too much of himself. “I just, can’t…” 

The last part is mumbled and Flippy looks at him, curious. 

“What was that?” 

“I can’t access those memories, okay!” Cain shouts, slamming his fist against the wall. Flippy jumps a bit, staring with wide eyes. He didn’t expect that strong of a reaction, not to mention, what? “It’s like they’re behind some wall I can’t get past. Like they’re not even yours-” 

“Oh! That makes sense!” Flippy snaps his fingers and nods to himself, not immediately noticing the absolutely flabbergasted look Cain is giving him. Hm. Right. “It’s probably Sergeant’s territory then.” 

“Who the fuck is Sergeant?? What the fuck are you talking about??” Cain sounds frustrated, now, and Flippy can’t help but to be surprised again. For all the demon brags about having total control over Flippy’s body whenever he has the smallest lapse, he really must not have dug too deeply into his psyche. Probably found it too boring when he realized it couldn’t be used to torture Flippy that well. 

“Well, I have…Um, let’s say for simplicity’s sake different people in my head, born of trauma. One of them is Sergeant- He came around during my tours in the war. He holds a lot of those memories, and I can’t really access them too easily because of how traumatizing they are.” Flippy hums and reaches into his shirt, idly playing with his dog tags. “This pin must be from the war if that’s where the memories are.” 

It would make a lot more sense. Flippy has gone through therapy, sure, but that’s all been for his memories. Sergeant doesn’t even like coming out much anymore, since they’ve been so safe for so long. Honestly Flippy had kind of assumed he’d partially reintegrated…Maybe he just went quiet. Sergeant was always good at that, better than Flippy ever was. 

“Okay, assuming that’s all true how the hell are you supposed to talk to him if he’s someone else entirely?” Cain sounds annoyed. 

“Hm.. Oh!” Flippy sits up, grinning. “I used to be able to talk to him when I was dreaming, or when one of the other alters was fronting. I’m sure if I try that again, it’ll work.” He glances over at Cain thoughtfully. Most of Flippy’s other alters have gone dormant or are triggered out by things he isn’t too keen on experiencing. But Cain might count. He certainly seems to have taken over some of Sergeant’s protection aspects. 

“...What, you really wanna give me control over your body?” Cain sneers. Right, he can probably hear everything he’s thinking. “Don’t you think you’re trusting a demon too easily, Father~?” 

“If you fuck things up too badly, I’ll just kill myself so often every day you won’t have a chance to do anything.” Flippy says, blandly. Cain stares at him, looking like he can’t quite choose between being impressed or furious. “If you can’t handle being let out once in a while without being a freak about things, then I don’t see why you deserve to be out at all.” 

“Alright alright! Shit.” Cain leans away from him a bit. Good. “You’d think you were a psycho instead of a priest. Not that that’s real different, but, fuck.” 

“Just…Do whatever it is that-” 

He blinks and in the middle of closing and opening his eyes he’s…definitely not awake anymore. It’s strange. Usually when he would have an alter front, he’d lose time. No awareness of what was happening inside or out, just a blink and he’s somewhere else, no memory of what went on. This is probably as close to the headspace he’s heard about as he can get without something supernatural involving itself. 

It’s nowhere specific. Just a plain, grey expanse. When he’d heard about the headspace from his other alters, he had really expected something more…exciting. But maybe it’s just exciting for people who only get to go out on very specific incidents. 

He starts to walk, realizing very quickly that he should have planned this a little bit better. He has absolutely no idea how to actually get in touch with Sergeant, let alone how to bring up looking into his memories. Ugh. It would be easier if Sergeant wasn’t such a hardass, but he tends to be a stickler for rules…But really, what even would the rules be right now? 

“You can start by saying hello.” 

Flippy damn near jumps out of his skin, spinning on his heel to see, unsurprisingly, a figure standing behind him. It’s undeniably Sergeant. Flippy hasn’t ever seen him before, obviously, but he has gotten descriptions of him. A serious looking doberman, fitted in a perfect looking dress uniform. He looks at Flippy expectantly, so damn reminiscent of every CO he’s ever had. 

“...Hello, Sergeant.” He says. While normally he shouldn’t be nervous around his alters, Sergeant was always a bit of a special case. Sort of a father figure that came out to help Flippy when he couldn’t help himself, who was always stern and serious but never cruel. He’s always worried about Sergeant liking him. 

“Flippy. It’s been a long while since we last spoke. About…a decade, right?” Sergeant looks him up and down, and something in his expression softens ever so slightly. “You seem to be doing well for yourself. Except for the demon.”

“Yeah…” Flippy says, then pauses. “Wait, you already know about him? …I guess that makes things easier…” 

“Of course I do. I have always had to keep an eye on the things around here.” He doesn't sound mad, but it still strikes him as a bit of a scolding… “So I also know why you’re here. But let me ask you a question: Do you really not recognize the design on the pin?” 

Huh? 

“Sh..Should I be able to? I mean, it looks familiar! But you say that as if I should know it personally.” 

“You should. But I suppose it makes sense if you don’t. It has been a long time, and you locked those memories away so tightly that no one else has been able to deal with them.” Sergeant definitely sounds disappointed now, and Flippy tries not to take it too personally. Which is hard. 

“You’re saying….that I hid those memories away. Not you, or anyone else?” Flippy considers this. It would make more sense. Sometimes he does that when it comes to something particularly traumatic that wasn’t helped by the existence of an alter. “And that also means you probably can’t help me much.”

“No. I didn’t say that.” Sergeant says, and Flippy looks over at him in surprise. “I have memories that are related to what you’re looking for, but the question becomes: Are you sure you want to see them?” 

Well. That’s an awfully loaded question, especially coming from Sergeant. If he’s asking something like that, it means the memories aren’t going to be exactly what Flippy is hoping for, at best- And at worst they’re going to make his life actively hellish. But just giving up on this kind of mystery, when he might have an answer within his reach, is impossible for him. 

“Yes…I’m sure. Even if it’s something scary or upsetting, I’d rather know than never find out.” He tries to sound certain of what he’s saying, but he probably doesn’t do that good of a job. 

“...I would prefer to give you a day to think it over.” Sergeant says. “It will give you time to really be certain, as well as give me time to find all the necessary memories. Does that seem fair?” It does, but it also seems utterly exasperating to wait for even that amount of time. But Flippy bites back a retort. It’s a fair worry, and Sergeant always keeps his word.

“Yeah…Alright, I can wait that long. I don’t think my choice will change in a day.” He rubs at his face and sighs. Ugh, how is he going to focus for the next day with this hanging over his head? “I should head back out. Who knows what Cain’s gotten up to by now.” 

“Yes. One more thing, however, Flippy.” Sergeant says, and when Flippy looks back there’s an expression he hasn’t seen on him before. He looks…uncomfortable? Anxious? “Take care of yourself. Whatever is really going on, it’s dangerous.” 

“Aw, Sergeant. Of course I’ll be careful! It’s not just me in here!” He can’t help the fondness in his voice. Sergeant worrying about him in his own quiet way is such a nice thing. “Keep up all the good work!” Sergeant nods and watches Flippy turn away, still with that same expression. 

It’s easier to go in than it is to come out, and it takes Flippy a few minutes of concentration and inner yelling to finally find himself back in his body. At least, he thinks he is. It’s dark, and quiet, which could mean he was in his head a lot longer than he thought, or it could mean that he’s just somewhere closed up. His body at least seems to be in good shape, though… He brings a hand up to his mouth and his eyes widen as he tastes something that he can never quite forget:

The coppery, bitter taste of fresh blood.

Chapter Text

Flippy has to force himself not to panic. Panic will lead to lashing out, and lashing out almost always ends extremely badly. He takes in a slow, careful breath. His body isn’t in more pain than usual, so it’s not blood from his injuries. He can’t taste anything besides blood, so he doubts he was chewing on something he shouldn’t have been. But everything is still pitch black, so he can’t tell how much blood there really is. 

Actually…Where the hell is he? There aren’t that many places where he can have his eyes open and it still be this dark. He reaches out and almost immediately his hand thunks against a solid wall. He thinks about what could possibly be this small…No. It couldn’t be. 

Flippy reaches out, grips the edge of the door, and slides open his closet. 

Ugh. He steps out and rubs at his face, not that surprised when his hand comes away bloody. He glances over into the mirror hung on his wall and yep, that’s a nosebleed. Okay, he can handle that. If the worst that’s happened is getting a nosebleed and being stuck in the closet (haha, very funny Cain) then he’ll consider this whole thing to be a rousing success. 

But…of course he’s still worried about what Sergeant said. 

His memories are a mess, thanks to having them shared across three distinct people. But being the host Flippy should be able to access anything he wants, if he really wants to. For it to be something that he hid away tightly enough that he can’t figure it out himself, and for Sergeant to be so against him learning the details…It really doesn’t bode well. But Flippy wants so badly to know, to understand this mystery. He reasons with himself that it’s a good thing here. If he doesn’t figure this out, worse things could happen. 

He glances at the clock. It’s almost time for church. He can’t spend all of his time moping, and besides Sergeant will only help him after a day passes. 

Flippy is still stuck in his thoughts as he gets dressed. He would feel worse about it if there was actually anyone who came to the services. But he doesn’t want to use being haunted by memories as an excuse not to do his job. This is Happy Tree. Everyone is haunted by memories.

Besides, today is Communion. It’s too important to miss out on. 

As expected, when he goes to stand outside the front doors of the church almost no one comes in. Not even Pop and Cub are here today- Pop’s likely still cleaning up his house from the ghost incident. But there’s three people that are here, so it isn’t like he can just close the church up. He at least needs to go through the motions today, even if his heart and head aren’t in it. 

He greets everyone and starts off with some nonsense he found in his notes. It’s good, really, though he doesn’t remember writing it. Talks about a duty to the community, how you should always be kind to your neighbor so they can be kind in turn… It’s things he believes in even without the Christian words surrounding them. 

“...And now we come to the time of Communion. We thank God for sending his Son down to Earth in sacrifice to cleanse the sins of humanity past, present, and future. We take this heavenly feast to remind ourselves of your love for us, and to bring you into our hearts so that your kindness and grace will fill us. Amen.” 

There’s a wave of “amen”s and Flippy goes over to pick up the tray of Communion wafers and small plastic glasses of wine. He’s always been of the opinion that having everyone drink from one big goblet is disgusting at best, and actively harmful to health at worst. Besides, it’s kind of hilarious watching people pound back the blood of Christ like a shot. 

“This is His flesh, so may we feel His Grace in it. Eat, and be closer with the Lord.” Flippy leans down and passes the wafer to a nervous Cuddles. Which…yeah. He’s never actually seen him here for Communion before. He’s probably just still here to make sure he isn’t haunted. He then hands him the little cup of wine. “This is His blood, spilt for our sins. Drink from it so you may find salvation.” 

To his credit, Cuddles doesn’t make any off color jokes or even pull a face. Flippy is going to have to remember to thank him for not goofing off, this time at least. Cuddles turns to step away, and the next member steps up. Flippy forces up a smile and prepares to go on autopilot. There’s only so many times he can do and say the same thing before his mind starts to wander, after all. 

It’s simple. Recite the same words. Hand out the bread and the wine. Rinse and repeat. Flippy is almost dissociating from the actions, only focusing the tiny bit he needs to in order not to fuck up and do something wrong. That’s why it takes so long for him to notice something strange. 

It starts with the amount of people he’s giving Communion to. He swore he only counted a few, but how many have come up? He doesn’t think it’s the same person over and over again, either- He’s only seen Cuddles once, and he’s sure that everyone who’s come up has been different. He’s confused, but still chalks it up to just some late comers in the church. He must have left the door open. That’s what makes the most sense to him. 

Now that he’s noticed the strangeness in people, he notices the strangeness in the wafers. They feel…heavier, somehow. More solid than an unleavened piece of bread the size of a nickel should be. He glances down, but it doesn’t seem off…Not in a way he can immediately see, anyhow. And if something was really off, wouldn’t the people taking Communion react in some way? No, he’s just feeling off still from his foray into his mindscape. 

Even as he thinks this, he’s struggling to come back fully to himself. It can be shockingly difficult to come around once he’s spaced out like this, but he wishes he were better at it right now. He wants to see what’s really going on, without his mind filling in the gaps with things that can’t possibly be true. Like the wafers being a strange tinge of pink even before one of the people dunks it in the wine. Like the wine being strangely viscous when he moves the cup in his hand. Does he know these people? Is this place even safe? What’s going on, how much of what he’s seeing can he trust? 

His train of thought comes to a crashing stop when the person he’s handing the wine to spills it. He stares down as they apologize, eyes focused on the thick red liquid spreading slowly across the floor before dripping down the steps. 

It’s like what happened before at the cafe, when Cuddles got killed. Flippy is staring at the wine for a good few seconds, before he finally blinks and is faced with blood . So, So much blood, everywhere, spattering his vestments, covering his hands, the pews and- Oh God. There’s blood in his mouth. It’s not his blood, he knows it’s not, he doesn’t feel any pain at all. He feels…Oh no. He feels full . 

No. Not again. He can’t have done this again. 

It’s a good thing that the church is empty of people, now. Because the scream that echoes through it is long and loud. 

“You only had to wait a day.” 

Sergeant gives a severely disappointed look to the other man in the headspace. Well, “man” is too light of a word for him. The demon that’s been tormenting Flippy just flicks open his lighter and lights his cigarette- a wholly useless action considering none of this is real. Sergeant knows he just wants to appear unconcerned with what’s going on, but he also knows that’s a lie. 

“I’m impatient. What can I tell you, old man.” 

“You’re not going to get what you want by acting like this.” Sergeant doesn’t let his face betray any of his annoyance. That’s all the other wants: an excuse to start a fight. He won’t be giving him the satisfaction. “Have you considered using your words like an adult?” 

“Tsk. This ain’t something that can be solved that easily.” The demon growls low and tosses his cigarette to the ground, where it disappears. “Keep your nose outta my business, Sarge.” 

Sergeant doesn’t get a chance to respond before the other man has disappeared into the ether. He sighs and rubs at his face, feeling exhaustion starting to hit him even though that shouldn’t be possible in the headspace. But, well, he would have said a lot of things were impossible before. 

“You really haven’t changed, Flick...”

Chapter Text

Flippy doesn’t leave his room for five days. 

He only has the presence of mind to tell Lumpy he’s taking a few days off for his health before he shuts himself away. He can’t even imagine how he must have looked since the moose just agreed as soon as he said anything. He’s certain that his actions must be showing up on his very skin even though he washed away the blood as best he could. 

It’s at times like these that he wishes he could remember how to pray. Sure, he can go through the motions, say all the right words, but that’s not what counts. In order for prayer to mean anything, the person doing it has to actually mean it as well. And even going through all of…this…Flippy can’t find it in himself to mean anything. In fact he feels even less religious than he did previously. 

He doesn’t eat, during those five days. He sleeps less. Every time he closes his eyes he can only see the horror of the gore and blood spattering every inch of the church. It isn’t the first time he’s had to go a few days without sleep, but it’s been a long while since he last did. He’s exhausted. His head hurts. As does his heart. And yet, he still feels like he deserves worse. 

When the knock on his door comes he thinks it’s a hallucination brought on by the lack of sleep. He gets up to answer it anyhow, because if it isn’t a hallucination he doesn’t want to be rude. When he opens the door and sees Lumpy, he has a second of seriously considering slamming it in his face. 

“Flippy! Wow. Buddy, you look like hell.” Lumpy says. Flippy just stares at him until he laughs nervously. “Uh, look, I know you’re on leave, but I just realized that confession needs to happen and well you know exactly how I am with that stuff!” 

He does. He had to work for a solid week helping people get over the situations Lumpy’s “helpful” suggestions had put them in. 

“...I guess I don’t want a repeat of that.” He says, not totally meaning it. It would probably be funny to see. “Okay. But I’m only doing confession, and only for an hour or two.” 

“Thank you so much Flippy!” Lumpy goes in for a hug but pauses. Flippy almost thinks the moose has finally figured out personal space but then Lumpy laughs. “Um, maybe you should clean up first, bud! You aren’t looking too hot.” 

Great. Even Lumpy notices. 

Luckily it doesn’t take more than a quick shower for him to look a little less harried, and no one is going to see the details during confession. At least he fucking hopes not. He’s really not in the mood to be Nice Flippy today. 

The church is quiet when he walks out. Thanks to the town’s curse, everything has been cleaned and cleared out, and most likely whoever it was he killed that day don’t even remember or realize what happened. But that doesn’t make it any better, especially considering afterwards. 

He shakes his head. No point in thinking about that right now, even though the memories claw at the edges of his mind. He has to pretend to be normal again, at least for a few hours. 

He sits down inside the confession booth and closes his eyes. It was empty outside, he shouldn’t have to deal with anyone right away- And of course his hopes are immediately dashed when he hears the door of the other side open. He suppresses a groan, barely, and sits up straighter. It’s fine. This is fine. 

“Hello, child.” He says. He keeps his voice quiet because he’s learned that’s how he hides most of his annoyance. “How can I-”

“Flippy, it’s me.” 

Flippy nearly falls off the damn seat from hearing Sergeant’s voice. Out of all the fucking people, that has to be the absolute last one he expected. Sergeant barely even ever communicates with him outside of occasional sticky notes after blackouts, so, what the fuck? 

“Sarge??” He whispers, terrified that someone might hear him. That someone real might actually walk into the confession booth and hear him talking to himself. Again. “What the fuck-” 

“I owe you an apology, Flippy.” Sergeant says and for the second time Flippy is stunned into silence. “I should have just up and told you what I knew, but I wanted to have you make that decision for yourself. To be sure. If I’d known he’d pull a stunt like that, I would not have made you wait. So, I’m sorry.” 

“...I’d love it if you all just stopped being freakily out of character for a bit.” Flippy puts his head into his hands and groans. “...I’m sure, you know. I- I thought I didn’t wanna know, after the incident. It was awful, you know? But I want to know. I think if I don’t, I’m just going to regret it.” 

“...I can understand that. Alright.” He hears a sigh. “This is something from our time in the war. You know I took care of most of the stuff you didn’t or couldn’t remember. Things you repressed. But this was one thing that I didn’t have to…Probably to your detriment. What do you remember about the last mission you went on?” 

“That was Tiger Bomb. How could I forget?”

“No.” 

“Wh..What?” 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Sergeant says. “You can’t remember your last mission because you’ve repressed it so strongly. It didn’t have any fancy sort of name. It was just supposed to be a basic scouting mission, done before you were officially put back into society. Something you’d done dozens of times. You weren’t even the leader, you were just supposed to be providing backup in case.” 

It sounds…familiar, sort of. It doesn’t, and it does. Flippy stares at his hands, brow furrowed as he tries and fails to remember this. He keeps feeling like he should be able to reach out and touch the memory, and just keeps being unable to. 

“Why can’t I remember? Usually if I really want to, I can, if no one else has the memories. What the fuck. ” 

“Because you’re the one who’s repressing it. But I can help. In fact, I really want to, because to be honest all of this has gotten pretty damn ridiculous.” Sergeant sighs heavily again, and Flippy feels a bit bad. Sarge has always been there, cleaning up his messes and helping him fix things he didn’t even realize were a problem. And this whole demon thing has been nothing but one long problem. 

“...Alright. I need to know, now. I mean, what that fucking demon did to me, I- Him knowing but me not is unacceptable.” Flippy balls his hands into fists. 

“...Well, I suppose there really isn’t anyone else coming by today. Once this is over we’re going to have to have a talk about your job prospects…” 

Before Flippy is able to think of an argument  against that, the edges of his vision start to go dark. He doesn’t bother to panic, instead just letting it happen and for the memories to take him over. 

“Flippy?” 

He shouldn’t have already been done. It doesn’t feel like he’s remembered anything? 

“Flippy!” 

He opens his eyes and stares into his own face, mirrored. He opens his mouth to shout, but instead says a name he doesn’t recognize: 

“Flick?” 

Chapter Text

There are a few things he has figured out in the last few seconds: he’s back in the jungle where the war was fought, he’s about a decade younger, and he doesn’t but does recognize the man in front of him. 

Flippy stares at him. Their similarities are truly baffling. This…Flick, is maybe an inch or two taller than him, with the same warm green fur and a very similar body type. The only differences between them are Flick’s bright yellow eyes and his extremely sharp teeth. It reminds him painfully of the demon, and he’s very uncomfortable with the idea that he’d taken on this man’s identity from Flippy’s memories. 

“You’re so sleepy.” Flick is scolding him, with a playful grin. Flippy remembers that he used to think it was aggressive until he got to know the other man better. It’s…strange, remembering things so upfront while also still being in his present mindset. “Didn’t you get enough rest on the plane?” 

“I would have, if you knew how to fly the damn thing.” He says, light and teasing. Flick flips him off and turns to the others to start barking orders in a much less indulgent tone. Flippy feels a warmth in his chest quickly followed by yet more horror at the demon that decided to steal this man’s face. To what end? Flippy couldn’t even remember him. 

But he can now. In bits and pieces, yes, but that’s more than before. He remembers that when Flick first showed up, everyone including him thought they were related. Once it was cleared up that they definitely weren’t, Flippy couldn’t help but to find him very interesting. Flick was aggressive in all his actions, stubborn and snarky to the point Flippy wondered what the hell made him join the army in the first place. 

But he was also scarily clever, and physically strong to an absurd degree. Flippy can vividly remember the almost constant surprise he felt at Flick’s ideas, how easily he wormed his way out of trouble even when it seemed like he was completely fucked, and his clever retorts to every bit of sass. 

 Flippy is first shocked then heart broken to realize he may have loved him. 

It feels surreal, but almost as soon as he realizes that his memories start to fast forward. He feels relieved, because as nice as it is to remember someone so obviously important, the idea of having to watch himself moon over someone without ever making a move sounds exhausting. 

He remembers that the mission was supposed to be a scouting one, simple and as nonviolent as possible. After what happened with Tiger Bomb (and he is…realizing that Flick might have been there as well?) his COs definitely didn’t want him making a mess of a mission right before he was discharged. It was a small squad of him, Flick, and two other soldiers. 

He remembered being confident. Looking forward to the end of everything. 

“Are you excited?” Flick asks him, when they’re crouched on a cliff and watching the enemy camp. It’s a safe distance away, and they’re making recordings of what they see. 

“What, to go back home?” Flippy says. “Yeah… My grandparents have already told me I’m welcome at their farm until I figure out where I wanna move.” 

“Damn, a whole farm? Anything fun to do there?” Flick leans on his side and grins at Flippy in a way that makes his stomach twist with emotion. 

“Well…Not really, but I think I’ve had enough fun to last me a lifetime. They have a few farm dogs, though.” Flippy says, before pausing and giving him a shy little smile. “Maybe you should come and visit when you’re off…”

“Can you two not flirt in the middle of a mission?” One of the others says. He sounds annoyed, but he can’t really hide the grin on his face, which only gets wider when Flippy blushes hard. “Gross.” 

“Shut your mouth, you’re just jealous I get the cute one.” Flick says, and laughs quietly. It makes Flippy’s heart do a little jump. 

It should have stayed that way. Quiet jokes, spying, and then leaving as easily as they’d come. It would have, too, if a bullet hadn’t come from the treeline and through the skull of one of the other soldiers. 

“Fuck!” Flippy nearly jumps, and grabs his gun, aiming it towards the trees. But he’s not fast enough in reacting, and another shot rings out. This one hits him in the leg and it takes him off balance- He gasps and falls backward, his heart freezing as instead of hitting the ground beneath him all he feels is air. Right. They were stationed on a cliff. 

“Flippy!” 

Flippy only has a few seconds of seeing Flick’s face before the memory blacks out. 

He thinks that’ll be the end of it. There’s no way there could be more to a memory that ends like that, and it’s upsetting enough as it is- 

But he wakes up. In a shocking amount of pain that he can still tell is deadened slightly by the fact that he’s only in a memory. He wonders how he even survived a fall from that height, and then his eyes land on Flick lying next to him. His heart freezes in his chest, a mocking of the way it was pounding so hard towards the same man only minutes earlier. 

“Fl..ick?” He says, his voice barely a whisper above the roaring of his pulse. The other man doesn’t move for a long, long moment in which Flippy is sure that his entire world is collapsing around him, and then he groans. 

“Oh, fuck..that was stupid.” He mutters. He looks like shit, bleeding profusely and barely moving. “Flip?”

“I-I’m here! I’m here, hold on-” Flippy forces himself to move, is relieved that he still can. Sure it hurts like hell and a half, but it’s better than paralysis. “Why are you down here too? I thought they only got me…” 

“...I uh.” Flick coughs a bit, and Flippy is terrified by the blood. “I ran after you…fuckin stupid, I know. Worked on instinct.” 

“Your instincts suck.” Flippy says, barely holding back his tears. 

There’s…a danger to being down here, besides just being trapped. The curse that shows up on certain battlefields doesn’t cover this area- That’s part of why this was supposed to be just a simple mission. No one was supposed to die today. But already someone has, and he can tell in his present sense…Flick isn’t going to make it out alive. Not just because they’re sitting at the bottom of a canyon gravely injured, but because Flippy can tell Flick can’t move anything below his neck. 

“Hey. Don’t give me that look.” Flick says, nodding his head at Flippy. He touches his cheek and grimaces at how much he’s already crying. He must be such a fucking sight. “Didn’t you say I could come visit your farm? Why don’t you tell me more about what a yeehaw boy like you gets up to there, huh?”

Flippy knows it’s just a bid to waste time. But how could he ever turn down a dying man’s dignity, especially back then? So he talked. He talked about how he spent summers there, learning how to run a farm and finding that he took to hard labor surprisingly well. How his grandparents adopted damn near every animal that ended up on the farm no matter how raggedy or rough they were- and how every single time those animals would become the cuddliest, warmest friends on earth within a few months. How his grandma was the first person he ever admitted out loud to that he was gay, and how she’d hugged him and told him she loved him. 

He’d gotten a little choked up at that last part. Flick laid his head on Flippy’s shoulder. 

“Do you think she’d like me?” He asks. 

“She will .” Flippy said with utter confidence. Born of being too stubborn to admit what he already knew- that the only way Flick was ever going to meet his grandparents or anyone new at all was- 

“I love you.” 

Flippy’s neck damn near snaps at that . He stares at Flick, who’s looking miserable and pale but as determined as he’s ever been. 

“I know it’s fucking stupid to be sayin’ this at this point- I mean, shit, I’m dying- Don’t say it. I am. You know I am. I ain’t about to pretend otherwise.” Flick coughs again and leans his head back, staring up into the sky. It’s gotten dark. “But if I don’t say it now, I’ll just die all regretful. So, I love you. Have for months now, pro’ly since that day you chewed out that CO for being a dick to the newbies. Made you go from “cute but spineless” to, “oh shit hot”.” Flick laughs and it’s a wet, tearing sound. 

“You- You shouldn’t talk…” Flippy’s voice is a whimper, all he can manage as he watches Flick’s eyes get a bit dimmer. Fuck. He should be able to fix this. He has to. He- “I love you too, okay? It’s reciprocated! If you die, it’ll be a real dick move!” 

Another awful laugh. Flippy moves his hands up to touch Flick’s cheeks, desperate for the other man to feel him. He knows he’s dying. He just- He needs these last few moments to be as real as they can possibly be, as intense and honest as he can manage because if he regrets even a single second after this he may well follow along quickly. 

“If the curse is around here I’ll be real embarrassed. Mm. Can I ask something…kind of selfish?” 

“When has me saying no ever stopped you before?” 

“True. 'Kay. Kiss me.” Flick says, and even almost dead, pale and shaken and miserable looking, the look in his eyes is still so, so intense. Flippy stumbles over his words for a moment. He really didn’t want their first (last) kiss to be like this, he was thinking more- Anything but this, really. But he leans in and kisses Flick, just a gentle thing that’s all he can muster with how his energy is ebbing. It’s the sweetest bitter taste. 

“I love you.” Flippy whispers, clinging to him. He’s cold, really cold now, which is so absurd in the middle of the jungle. “Flick? …I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I wish- I wish I was less of a fuck up.” 

No answer. Flippy hiccups a sob and buries his face against him. Flick would almost always pipe up immediately, telling him to stop being so damn hard on himself. But now he’s not. Now he won’t. 

Flippy isn’t sure from when he’s feeling this ripping at his chest, but it’s agonizing in a way he really wasn’t prepared for. His present mind can’t help but to curse Sergeant a little; couldn’t he have warned him about this sort of thing? But the part that’s still remembering, it’s just a white haze of miserable agony. Physical pain he’s always been good at hiding, at holding and compacting until it’s barely bigger than a marble. But emotional? He’s never gotten good at that. It feels like a white hot iron being ripped through every part of him, leaving a gaping wound that will never heal. 

No wonder he chose to forget instead of remembering this. 

Time seems to speed up in the memory again. Flippy wants to be grateful, but there’s a certain kind of dread starting up in his stomach. He doesn’t need to see the aftermath. What else could there possibly be for him to know? 

He feels the hunger pangs before recognizing them for what they are, and his mind nearly snaps from the sheer force of how much he can’t bear to see what comes next. He knows. The sickness he feels at any meat rare enough to show blood, the panic he feels whenever he gets injured and happens to even imagine he can taste copper. He can’t see this. He can’t. He won’t, he won’t-

And Flippy with a start finds himself in the confession booth again. He dry heaves for a moment, dizzy with both the suddenness of the change and the intensity of his memories. And he can remember now. It doesn’t take much thought at all, and he can even still feel the last kiss. 

Flippy leans down, hugging himself around the middle, and weeps.

Chapter Text

Flippy doesn’t bother to stay after that. He doesn’t even give Lumpy an excuse- The moment he’s stopped crying long enough to catch his breath he’s out of the confession booth and booking it across the church. He runs into the parking lot and jumps in his truck, ignoring absolutely everything else in favor of getting out of here as fast as physically possible. There aren’t any speed limits in Happy Tree, not any that are actually able to be enforced, so he goes as fast as he can. 

Sergeant hasn’t made an appearance again since he left the church, having been left sitting on the other side of the confession booth when he stormed out. Flippy remembers his expression- sorrowful and guilty- and thinks good . Which he immediately feels guilty for, because it’s not like Sergeant didn’t try to warn him. Flippy was the one who insisted. 

He parks his truck outside the woods and lightly thunks his head on the steering wheel. He’s exhausted. The sensations he remembered are still too vivid and fresh against his skin, the despair and pain…He shakes his head and gets out of the truck. 

There’s one thing that always helps him feel better after stress that he can’t just breathe away. And that’s going absolutely apeshit in the woods. 

He never has a spot in mind when he rushes out here. It doesn’t matter if he gets lost, anyhow- He can always just hurl himself off a cliff (though the idea of a cliff right now makes him feel a bit ill) and wake up in his bed the next day. And half of the point is to burn off his emotions, so forcing his way through the bushes and undergrowth helps to burn off his anger. A little. Sort of. 

By the time he finally reaches a proper clearing, he’s annoyed and upset to realize that he hasn’t really cooled off at all. Maybe that’s not as much of a shock as he thinks it should be. He did just experience…all of that. And then, knowing now that “Cain” has been impersonating someone so important to him…

Flippy lashes out, slamming his hand into a nearby tree. It stings, the bark cutting into his knuckles, but it’s still not enough. The anger and grief inside him keeps building more and more, He feels like he’s going to burst in some way, and he doesn’t know what to do to stop it. But he has to, because- 

“Hey, Father, what’s got you all up in arms?” 

Flippy whips around, staring at “Cain” leaning against a tree across the clearing from him. There’s a tension in the demon’s shoulders, even though his smile is as broad and smug as ever. He must know that Flippy saw the memories, and yet he still has the confidence and cruelty to be smiling ? Flippy snarls a bit and storms over, grabbing “Cain” by the front of his shirt. 

“You bastard. Take that goddamn face off right now, or- Or I’ll-” Flippy is shaking. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t wnat to show that kind of weakness in front of this fucker wearing the skin of a man he loved. But he can’t help it. 

“...What?” The demon blinks at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? That’s what you’re saying after all that??” 

“Excuse me?!” Flippy nearly bites him. It’s genuinely a close thing. “Then you know exactly what I saw, what I went through- And you still have the balls to look like him, act like him! You’re not him! So get your goddamned head on straight- I don’t care what you actually look like, just don’t look like Flick!” 

“Wh- Are you stupid or what-” 

“Don’t you dare act all innocent! You’re just looking like him to confuse me, or make me let my guard down-” 

“Oh my fuck you are that stupid! I’m not faking how I look, I’m-” 

“You-” 

“Shut!” The demon slaps a hand over Flippy’s mouth and growls when Flippy tries to bite him. “Up!! I’m not pretending to be Flick! I am Flick!” 

Flippy freezes in his second attempt to bite, staring at the demon with wide eyes. That’s not possible. It’s so outside the realm of possibility that he actually feels a little guilty for feeling hopeful that it might be true. This can’t be Flick, because there’s no way and no reason Flick would be a demon, let alone one that tortured him and killed people.

“Liar.” He hisses angrily. “There’s no way Flick would have become a demon!” 

“Look- I might have been cute with you but I was NOT a good person! I deserved to go to hell. And I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but…” The demon takes a step back, and Flippy watches warily. Maybe it is just his stupid, weak hope that wants to believe him and give him a chance to prove himself. He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter what happens because he’ll just come back. There’s nothing the demon can do to him that would hurt less than what he’s already been through. 

The demon’s outside starts to flake away like ash, the bright healthy green fur dulling to an almost dirty pale green. His pretty golden eyes stay, but now there’s a bright red ring around the irises that feel like they’re burning a hole into Flippy’s very soul. There’s also the horns sweeping around his ears, which are new. 

Despite these changes, he still looks like Flick. Flippy wants to pretend like he can’t possibly be, still, but…After seeing those memories, he doesn’t think he’d be able to be fooled so easily. And the way the demon- Flick- is looking at him is so heartrendingly gentle that he can’t convince himself that it’s all a fake. Or maybe he doesn’t want to convince himself of that. The world would be so much darker if this demon wasn’t really his old love. 

He immediately flings himself at Flick, who flinches and then makes a surprised grunt when instead of being hit Flippy hugs him tightly around the middle. Then he does smack him on the chest, still not raising his face up so he can’t the tears starting to form. 

“Idiot! Jackass! What the fuck were you doing, hurting me and other people?? Why didn’t you tell me it was you!” He yells, gripping onto Flick’s shoulders and shaking him a little bit. 

“Because you forgot me!” Flick snaps, making Flippy stop in his tracks. “Because…I didn’t realize it was you at first, but then I did and you’d forgotten me.” 

“...That-” 

“I know,” Flick interrupts, holding up a hand. “I know, I talked to Sarge more and figured out that you didn’t do it on purpose. But when I was first summoned here I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk about the past.” 

“Oh, haha. That’s a fucking understatement, mister I’ll Just Kill Your Friend.” He pokes at his chest. “Mister I’ll Torment You Forever.” 

“Okay, okay!” Flick swats at his hand but it doesn’t have any kind of bite to it. “I’m sorry about all that, okay? But I was really thinking you were playing dumb, and I was angry. Especially after, ahem, the last thing I was alive for.” 

Flippy blushes, clearing his throat. Right. Right . Having the memories and being faced with the man he kissed and confessed to are two totally different things. He’s going to have to deal with that, especially since Flick is attached to him by the soul. Can’t exactly escape to have a private meltdown like that. 

“Right. I um…” He looks down at the ground, the leaves and sticks suddenly much more interesting than watching Flick’s reaction to what he’s about to say. “I think I might still feel the same way about you? But I don’t know if that extends to..this you.” A moment of quiet after that which immediately makes him start panicking, and then a heavy sigh. 

“Right. Right, of course. I can wait. Besides…” He leans in and gives the smirk that was a part of Flippy’s nightmares that he’s got a sinking sensation will feature in other kinds of dreams now. “I’m confident you’ll fall for me all over again.” 

“Okay!” Flippy waves his hands at him and starts walking away, absolutely not willing to deal with flirting right now. Then he pauses and bends over, picking up something off the ground. It’s the pin that he got from Pop’s house- He’d basically forgotten about it even though it’s been burning a hole in his pocket. “Oh, I must’ve dropped this…”

He pauses, studying the pin closer. The first time he’d seen it, it was familiar but didn’t spark any specific memories in him. But now that he looks at it, he remembers immediately. This pin is one that Flick used to have attached to his jacket all the time when they were out on missions. 

So how did a ghost manage to get it?

Chapter Text

As much as Flippy wants to ask Flick the obvious questions about the pin, the fact of the matter is that he’s not sure he can handle any more emotional destruction for today. He just has to remember to bring it up later. 

“So…what now?” 

Flippy glances over at Flick, who’s changed back into his more normal look. It’s still kind of strange to see him looking like that, but now it’s gone from upsetting to just unnerving. He’ll get over it. 

“...That’s a good question. I’ve spent all this time trying to think of how to get rid of you, but now that I don’t think I want that anymore…” Flippy shrugs, ignoring the way Flick mouths ‘don’t think??’. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Hm.” Flick walks over, before plopping right next to him. It’s not quite a jungle, but the scene still gives Flippy an uncomfortable sense of deja vu. “Well, why don’t we start workin’ together? It could be like old times. Well…Actually less dangerous if you think about it…” 

“I don’t think I need help running a church with a demon.” Flippy says, crossing his arms. He’s trying not to be annoyed, but is rapidly failing. “And don’t be so flippant about death! Just because you can’t die anymore doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt…” 

He pauses and then shuts his mouth with a click. He didn’t mean to say that like that… Ugh. But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Even if it’s making Flick look at him with an expression he doesn’t want to deal with. 

“...Yeah, I know. Uh, but I wasn’t talking about bein’ a priest…I’m not sure why you became one in the first place.” He does a complicated motion with his hands and brings a cigarette from nowhere. Flippy wonders, not for the first time, just what a non corporeal thing like him needs to smoke for. “I’m talking about how fucked up this town is.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What, you haven't noticed? I mean, I guess I have muddied the waters a lot…But not everything that’s happened was my fault. There’s something fucked about this town, and it ain’t just the curse.”

“Well…Couldn’t it just be your influence?” Flippy says. “Darker things would be attracted to demons, right?” 

“Like you?” Flick says, and grimaces when Flippy punches him in the upper arm hard. “Oof. Okay, so you’re better at punchin’ now. But, no, not like this. Uh, compare it to…like, fly paper I guess? That stuff attracts flies, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna grab the other, worse bugs that are taking up residence.” 

Flippy considers this. To be honest it sounds like a really fun and easy way to avoid taking responsibility. But with the way Flick is, there’s probably also a thread of truth in this. Which is more annoying than if he was outright lying…Flippy will just ignore the way his heart gets all warm and comfortable. 

“...I guess I can see where you’re going with this. Not that I’m saying I want to actually team up or anything- I’m still mad at you! I don’t trust you totally! But…” He hesitates. Can he try to trust Flick? They were both emotional, angry and upset. Flick hurt him, but he can understand why. …Flippy sighs. “But I want…I need to give you a chance. If I don’t, then honestly, what’s the point of all of this?”

“..Dramatic.” Flick mutters, but holds his hands up at the look Flippy shoots him. “I didn’t say that was a bad thing! It’s cute!”

“Hmph.” Flippy has got to stop being flustered by every little word Flick gives him. He’s sure it’ll pass with time… “Let’s go back. What do you mean about working together?” 

“From what I can tell, people in this town are real good at gettin’ themselves into trouble. You think it’s as easy as those three doofuses made it look to summon a full fledged demon?” Flick snorts and flicks his cigarette. Now that Flippy thinks on it… 

“Right. That does make sense.” 

“So, I was thinking that we make a proper contract. Somethin’ that’ll make me possessing you easier on your body, but also give you some proper powers. Oh, don’t give me that look. You and I both know you don’t have a believer’s bone in your body except when you’re fucking another priest.” 

“Hey!” Flippy shakes his head, trying to find the words to object. And, fails, because it’s true. Unfortunately. 

“Heh.” Flick winks at him and it just makes him want to punch him more. “But, seriously! It’ll be easier on both of us, and we can do more stunts like when you punched that ghost. Which was sick by the way. I didn’t know I could pop a boner in this for-”

“Okay!!” Flippy interrupts, knowing that he’s blushing more than he should. Holy Christ he forgot just how ridiculously flirtatious Flick could get when he’s in a particularly good mood. He’s going to. Have to do something about that. Mostly because other people can’t hear or see Flick. “Like…some sort of X Files shit?” 

“I was thinkin’ more Supernatural but gayer.” Flick says. He leans in clover to Flippy, who makes the dumb decision not to move. “What do you say? We can be partners again. We can work together and fix whatever’s wrong with this town…” 

“And then what? My soul will be damned to hell?” 

“..Honestly, Flips, I think it already is. And it ain’t too bad… You sign up with me, I can get you on the fast track of being a demon. No decades of suffering before finally crawling out of the Pit.” Flick’s voice turns a little dark as he speaks. Flippy says nothing, even as he moves to lean over him properly, his hands caging him in by gripping tightly onto the tree above him. “I don’t want you to suffer like I did, Flippy. If you do this you might be damned but you won’t agonize during it.” 

Flippy stares up at him wide eyed. He’s close. Entirely too close. And the things he’s saying should horrify him, disgust him even, but instead Flippy just feels a little thrilled. Someone cares about him to the point of wanting to do something like this…Even if it ends up not being the smartest idea, it still feels like the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for him. He feels silly, fluttery as he is over something that should by all means intimidate him. 

Flick is watching him, waiting for an answer. But he doesn’t have one, not yet. 

So instead he reaches up, yanks him down by the shirt, and kisses him. 

It really is a spur of the moment thing. He isn’t even thinking that clearly when he does it, he just does it. 

Flick is warm. He’s also very responsive, even though there’s a good five seconds where he’s so shocked that he doesn’t respond at all. But once he does, Flippy is not at all surprised by what an aggressive kisser he is. It makes him think that Flick hasn’t spent much time after death kissing people, though. 

He ends up pushing him back which…Yeah the look on Flick’s face is almost enough to kill if it wasn’t Flippy. He just gives him a sweet smile. One completely without any sort of regret.

“I’ll think on it.”

Chapter Text

Flippy probably shouldn’t have teased an entity that’s bound to him by his very soul, but in his defense it’s not the worst decision he’s made this month. Flick is very close the whole drive home, because he doesn’t have to worry about getting into an accident or anything. Flippy is just barely lucky enough that his annoying passenger isn’t deciding to be a real threat to his driving. 

“Can you not be annoying? For five minutes?” He says finally, hitting the brakes hard because he almost completely missed the red light. Pop gives him a weird, annoyed look from where he’s walking Cub across the street, and all Flippy can do is wave sheepishly. 

“I’m not doin’ shit. You’re the one gettin’ all flustered like you’re a total virgin.” Flick says lazily. He’s been absently playing with Flippy’s fur, tugging on his ears, and overall just making a real fucking ass of himself. 

“I’m a priest.” Flippy grits out through his teeth. 

“You were pa-” 

“Don’t! Finish that thought! Just let me drive!!” Flippy slaps the dashboard, more flustered than anything else. One of the negatives of this…arrangement is now he can hear little flits of Flick’s thoughts- He bets it’s mostly when Flick wants him to. And everything he beams into his head is torture or annoying. 

“Okay, fiiine.” Flick sits back, kicks his feet up, and hums. “Where are we going, anyhow?” 

“Are you kidding? Home. After today I’m lucky I haven’t completely passed out yet.” Flippy rubs at his eye as he speaks, fighting down a yawn valiantly. 

“Oh.” Flick says, and shifts a bit in his seat. Flippy starts driving again before giving in and heaving a sigh.

“What.” 

“Oh, uh…it’s just…”

“Spit it out.”

“Look, it’s just that it’s a better idea that we get this contract squared away.” He holds up his hands at Flippy’s glare. “It’ll stabilize our souls being in the same body! We might not be able to die forever in this town, but you don’t want to wake up with us suddenly being the same person, right?” 

“...How long will it take?” 

“Fifteen minutes! Promise! Just gotta go to the library…” 

Flippy groans louder than ever, but turns obediently down the road. He’s going to defer to Flick in this sort of thing, because he’s been involved in the supernatural a whole lot longer than Flippy. And yeah, he doesn’t want…whatever soul bullshit might go on. 

The library isn’t that far away from the church. Sometimes Flippy would spend some time there after services, reading the newest in a book series and winding down. And an additional positive: the librarian is very cute. 

“Hi Flaky.” He greets them at the front desk once they walk in. He notes their initial look of concern, and remembers that he was just crying hysterically in the woods and getting into a fight. Right. “Oh jeeze, don’t look at me like that. I just got done with confession…” 

“Oh!” Flaky relaxes a little bit and gives him a more sympathetic look. Thank goodness. “Here, I think, I think I have some tissues around here…” 

They bend over behind the desk and Flippy allows himself to relax a little bit…Until he notices Flick casually walking through the desk and blatantly checking out their rear end. 

“Oh, they’ve got a nice ass.” He says, and Flippy wants to die. “No wonder you had so many memories of a crush on them! You ever fuck ‘em? Wait, no, you’re all about being a “chaste” priest, you probably barely even flirted. Wuss.” 

Flippy can’t reply which is killing him because he wants to throttle Flick and yell at him until he apologizes for talking about Flaky like that. But he doesn’t know how to communicate with him without other people hearing, and he’s already been given weird looks a few times when he loses an argument with Sergeant. 

“Here! I knew we- Flippy? Are you okay?” Flaky tilts their head at him and he has to quickly change his expression into something less murderous. 

“Yep! Just fine! Thanks Flakes. I’m gonna be wanderin’, don’t mind me.” He takes a few tissues and storms off, glad that Flick can’t move too far away from his body. “ You. ” He hisses as soon as they’re far away enough. 

“Aw, c’mon. What am I not allowed to have a little fun now?” Flick says. He’s pouting . It’s insufferable. 

“Can you at least pretend to be respectful where I can hear it? At least until I know how to yell at you without looking like I’m experiencing a mental break?” Flippy is following him through the shelves, because it seems that Flick knows exactly where he’s going. And that makes it seem like Flippy knows where he’s going. 

“Nope.” Flick grins salaciously. “I might not be a lust demon, but I know a fine ass when I see it. Oh, here’s the book.” He reaches out to grab it and makes a frustrated grumble when his hand just goes right through it. To Flippy, it doesn’t look all that impressive, and definitely not like it could have anything to do with demons. But maybe that’s why it’s stayed here, in a normal library, instead of being shipped off to the Vatican. 

Flippy picks it up and holds it in his hands. Much to his shock he doesn’t even have to open it, instead watching as it flips open on its own to a specific page. He glances over at Flick, who seems just as interested as him. 

“...Contract making for dummies?” He mutters once the book has finished opening. “This seems…Surprisingly modern.” 

“Eh, I guess. Maybe this book just has an attitude.” Flick glares at it, which has the stunning effect of…nothing. Flippy rolls his eyes. 

“Let’s see here…” He reads and his eyebrows quickly climb up his face. “In order to create a functional contract with a demon, both parties must be fundamentally on the same side. They must share blood or similar fluids, and must swear to stay by one another’s side, and then- Wait.” 

“Hm? What?” Flick looks at him, curious. Flippy can’t meet his eyes, his face slowly turning redder and redder. “What the hell? What-” 

“We’ve already done this.” 

“Huh?” 

“We- We already did this ritual. We’re- On the same side. We agreed to stay by each other’s side and. And we uh, we kissed.” Flippy shoves his face against the book, ears burning. There wasn’t any dramatic change! How was he supposed to know that they did something ritualistic! 

“...Oh, shit.” Flick’s eyes are wide, and he looks considering for a moment. “Lemme test that.” 

He straightens up and raises up his hand, before snapping his fingers. For a split second Flippy just thinks he’s being dramatic, but then the lights flicker and shut off. There’s a slight rumbling in the ground beneath them and Flippy swears- And it stops, just like that. The lights turn back on and the ground stops shaking. 

“...What the fuck?” 

“That, my dear, was just a fraction of my power.” He sounds gleeful. “Which I haven’t been able to do anything with on my own since possessing you! And that means you got some power too!” 

“...I do?” 

“What, didja think that you getting a contract with a demon as powerful as me meant that you wouldn’t get nothin’? Psh.” He grins and gestures. “As a matter of fact, why don’t we go over and get this book checked out? Then we can play around with some real power.” 

“...Fine.” Flippy sighs, giving in to the fact that he’s going to be embarrassing himself very soon. “But only after I take a nap . I need to rest, this has really just been…” He shakes his head and starts back towards the front. 

He isn’t…quite sure how to feel about all of this. It’s only just now starting to really hit him that he’s made some sort of contract with a demon who, even though he knows him well, is not entirely trustworthy. He has…magical powers now? What kind? What will this do to him in the long run? Will he even be able to go back into the church now? …Probably, considering that he’s never been much of a man of faith in the first place. 

He rubs at his forehead, trying to calm his mind down a little. It’s…probably going to be fine. He’s made his way through life by the seat of his pants, and this is just as dangerous and stupid as anything else he’s tried to do. This time, though, he has more than just himself to rely on. 

Somewhat cheered by that thought, Flippy is then immediately disappointed when they get to the front desk and Flaky isn’t there. It’s not a big deal, but he wanted to talk to them a little bit more. Oh well. They’re not in the damn ancient era where a librarian not being around meant you had to wait for hours to check out. 

“Hey…” Flick says from where he’s standing, and Flippy glances over already expecting some bullshit. But Flick looks bothered. “There’s blood over here.” 

Immediately Flippy drops the book on the counter and hurries over. Indeed, there’s some blood droplets on the counter, about where Flaky would have been sitting. But…He doesn’t see anything else. It’s just a few drops of blood, and anyone who got killed suddenly would leave a whole lot more than that. And knowing Flaky…

“They probably just had a nosebleed. Or a papercut.” He says, and goes over to check out the book. Flick doesn’t look particularly convinced, which…yeah. He gets that. “Come on. Even if it’s something bad, that doesn’t matter in this town.” 

“Yeah…Yeah that is true, huh. Gotta get used to that idea.” Flick chuckles, a bit of nervousness in his laughter. Flippy…Yeah. He can’t blame him. When he first moved here he almost stayed in his little room permanently because the idea of dealing with constant death was so horrifying. 

“What, are you going to tell me now that the big scary demon is afraid of a bit of blood?” He says, trying to lighten the mood, and smiles when that immediately gets Flick scowling at him. But…Hm. 

Something still feels off. He glances over his shoulder at the desk, brow furrowed. He can’t put his finger on it. Whatever it is that’s making him feel this way, it’s probably nothing good.

Chapter Text

Flippy sleeps for twelve hours. It’s amazing. 

It’s shocking what a full night’s sleep and then some can do for you. Flippy honestly thought the phrase “bright eyed and bushy tailed” was just for little kids too hyper to know better, but apparently not. The sun is shining and he doesn’t immediately wish for its complete destruction. It’s kind of putting him off balance, to be honest. 

Part of him wonders if this has to do with the demonic contract he made. Now that he's had the chance to sleep and reset his brain he feels completely insane for having agreed to all that so easily. Not that he doesn't trust Flick...Well. It would also be a lie to say that he fully does trust him. Even if he's the exact same person he was before he died, Flick was still a complicated person. Not someone that you could know all sides of that easily. Flippy should have discussed things more, gone through this so-called contract with a fine tooth comb instead of just accepting everything. 

Well. He supposes what's done is done, and all he can do is try to figure things out from here. 

He starts up breakfast, allowing his mind to wander. As far as he's been able to tell, Flick can't perfectly read his mind, especially when he's not around...And from what he remembers Flick is anything but a morning person. So he's free to think for now. 

What's sticking in his mind is the pin.

Now that his memories are clearer he recognizes it easily. It was one of Flick's main ones that he always wore wherever he could get away with wearing pins. It makes sense that it would be so cloudy to him before, considering the design is a fairly obvious bear flipping off the viewer with the tagline ”Flick Off“. Juvenile and stupid and it still kind of makes him laugh. 

But how did it get into the possession of that ghost? He still hesitates to call it Ma. He can't exactly say he's an expert in ghosts right now, but it didn't feel right. And there was the fact that it attacked Pop and Cub, which as far as Flippy is concerned puts her right out of the running. 

Ugh. Focus. The pin. If it was a ghost, then maybe it was attached to the pin? Haunting it? It isn't outside the realm of possibility that Flick's belongings might have made their way to Happy Tree, somehow. And Pop might have bought it, either in a bunch of other pins or just because he actually does have a sense of humor at times. But then how could the ghost have been attached to the pin? It's not like anyone's perma died recently in town, and he was in the army still when Ma was alive. 

He runs his fingers over it and scowls. The more questions he has, the fewer answers he's getting, which he does not like at all. 

He finally gives up and tucks the pin into his pocket before pouring himself coffee. Ugh. Too much thinking, too early in the damn morning. 

“Mornin'.”

He's startled out of his thoughts by a warm body draping itself across his shoulders. He jolts a little before relaxing and recognizing Flick. There is...no reason for the man to be shirtless. Flippy knows that he doesn't really have to sleep like mortals. ...He's not complaining, though. 

“Good morning. I'm surprised you're awake. Didn't it used to take you hours to get started before?” He says. Flick snorts. 

“Yeah, but when you're up it's impossible to stay down as long as I'd like to. So, sleep more.” 

“I'd love to, usually,” He says. “But today I have work to do, and after yesterday I'm not keen on shirking.” 

“Yeah? Like?” Flick straightens up and stretches a bit. Flippy is so, so glad that he has eyes. 

“I have to go to the hospital and do some work as the priest. It shouldn't take very long, but some people are really insistent on having rites laid out even though no one dies permanently here.” Flippy starts washing out his mug, sighing a bit. It's not the worst part of his job, but hospitals always make him feel a little uncomfortable. He spent plenty of time in them during the war. 

“Hmph. Sounds boring. And I guess you won't need me?” Flick leans against the counter, tilting his head and giving the laziest grin. Flippy knows he's doing this on purpose! He knows! But that doesn't stop it from being effective. 

“If I need you in a hospital, then there's going to be a lot more to worry about.” Flippy says, before turning away very purposefully from Flick and heading back to the bedroom. “But don't...Don't sleep or anything. After everything that's happened, I'm not feeling too confident about the safety of anywhere.” 

He gets dressed quickly. The faster he can get there, the faster he can do his job, and the faster he can spend time...Doing other things. What, exactly, he hasn't yet planned. But after yesterday and to be frank this whole last little while, he thinks he deserves a bit of time to himself. Even if it'll end up with him taking care of the church. 

The Happy Tree Town hospital is, from what he understands, surprisingly state of the art for such a small town. No matter what people need, they can go there and have it fixed...If they're lucky. It's also the site of some of the worst deaths he's ever seen, so he hopes dearly that isn't the case today. 

“Father Flippy!” Giggles is at the front desk today, so maybe it's a good day. “Good morning!” 

“Good morning, Giggles. Have you been well?” He greets her and signs his name off in the visitors' log. 

“As well as ever...What are you here for today?” 

“I believe it's just to spend time in the chapel and go to anyone who's requested me. ...Has anyone requested me?” 

“No, not that I've seen...Oh, but!” She claps her hands and points at him. She's always so energetic in the morning... “I actually have something I'd like to talk to you about. It's...kind of serious? But I may just be imagining things!” 

“Alright. Why don't you come up to the chapel when you can? I'll hear you out as is my duty.” He makes sure to say this last part particularly seriously, making her laugh bright. He waves as he heads off to the stairs. Elevators make him a bit too nervous in this town. 

The hospital chapel is very simple. Just a few rows of pews, pretty windows, and a slightly fancy table set up at the front for him to give his speeches at. He honestly likes the simplicity. In a place like this, where you might get horribly sick or injured, he's seen it comfort people to experience just the genuineness of their faith. Sometimes it makes him feel a little bad for being a fake priest. 

No one's in the chapel when he arrives, which gives him time to unpack his bag and relax a little bit. One of the best things about here is how quiet it is. He can just...Rest. 

Or, he would if he didn't know that Giggles was coming soon. He goes to sit in one of the pews and bows his head, not really focused on anything but at least wanting to appear like he's deep in prayer. It's enough to fool most people. 

He hears the door open and raises his head, relieved that it is Giggles and not something horrifying instead. He may have gotten Flick on his side, but he doesn't think it was all Flick, all the time. 

Giggles looks more worried than when he saw her downstairs. He supposes that her customer service expression is practically ironclad. She sits right next to him, twisting the fabric of her skirt in her hands. 

“...Why don't you tell me what's going on?” He says, gently. She looks a little surprised, clearly not aware of just how obvious her distress is. 

“...Okay. Um, well, see…” She starts, before sighing a bit harshly. “The thing is, there's been something really weird going on in the hospital for a few days. People have been disappearing, sometimes right out of their beds. At first we thought, you know, it was just the curse doing something...Killing them off in a weird way we couldn't catch. But they haven't been revived anywhere, so that can't be it... 

“Yesterday I almost got caught up in whatever it was, I think. I mean, I can't be sure it's super related but- Um, well, when I went to take the elevator up, it went up...and up. I don't know when it stopped, really, but when I looked out things looked...They didn't look right, you know? Kind of warped. So I decided not to go in, and after a while the elevator went back down.” 

“...” Flippy considers this. Damn it. It just had to be the elevator. “And you think that's related?”

“I mean! I don't know what else it could be related to. ...Or, well, I don't really want to think about it, you know? It's a scary thing…” She shivers a little bit. “It really was so messed up to look at, Father, I don't know how to explain it.”

“I believe you.” And he does. Unfortunately. “Is it just the elevator?” 

“Mm...Some of the other nurses have said that their patients have disappeared after entering a room so...Maybe it's just. Doorways?” She says. Then she turns to him full on, hope etched into every part of her expression. “Will you help? This feels like something way stranger than just the regular Happy Tree stuff... And I'm worried about everyone who's gone missing.” 

“Yes, of course I'll help.” He says. What else could he possibly say? No? As if. “Here, why don't you take this-” He hands her his small journal. It's not the one with anything too important in it. “And write down everything related to this that you know of. Especially places. Then I'll start looking around...”

“Yes! Of course!” She gives him such a happy smile and immediately sets to it. It'd be nice to see someone so excited if it wasn't about a probable haunting. 

Flippy sits back and sighs as much as he can get away with. He'd been hoping that today would be easygoing. But it seems like things are going to be a lot more complicated than he'd ever want.

Chapter Text

Flippy doesn't have any real specific reason to hate elevators. It's just, they're not fun to be in. There's been some horrific deaths attached to them that can't be put towards the curse. And, above all, being in a shaking metal box reminds him a little bit too much of a coffin. But if whatever's causing trouble is in one, well, he's already promised to help. He has no real way of getting out of this.

"You know it's not like you have a lot to worry about." Flick says. He's standing next to Flippy as they wait for the elevator to show up. He looks kind of annoyed, but Flippy thinks that he's secretly pleased they get to spend more time together. Now that they have a proper link, he can feel things like that a little easier.  

"I thought you were going to stay asleep as long as possible." Flippy says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. 

"Yeah, well, I can feel your anxiety from a million miles away. You think I'd be able to rest knowing something's gnawing at you like that?" Flick glances over at him. At least this time he's properly clothed. 

"...I just don't like elevators very much. Honestly, I'm glad that it seems like whatever this thing is, it takes you to a different place entirely. If it was something haunting the elevator itself I'd have to tell them to get used to it." 

"Wow, harsh." 

There's a light ding and the elevator arrives. Flippy heaves a heavy, world-weary sigh before stepping inside and pressing the button for the top floor. He's going to start up there and slowly make his way down to the basement, to see which floor the issue shows up on. Taking this slowly and somewhat methodically means that he'll hopefully be less surprised when the worst happens. 

The first few floors don't show anything too strange. A few people get on, get off, give him strange looks that he just meets with an unfaltering smile. Every time he looks out onto the floors things look completely normal, exactly as a hospital should be. He starts hoping that whatever Giggles has been talking about isn't on the elevator at all- Hell, maybe it won't even show up for him today! Wouldn't that be something. He thinks personally he could use a break. 

They finally reach the first floor again, and he's relaxed. It seems like things are normal. So when the doors open and the entire floor is pitch black, he feels a pit form in his stomach. 

"Huh." Flick says. He almost sounds impressed. "I didn't even sense that coming. Whatever this thing is must be pretty tricky." 

"Oh," Flippy says faintly. "How fun." 

The elevator doors stay open far longer than they would normally. Almost as if they're urging him out of the safety of the elevator and into the darkness. He peers out, careful not to actually step outside. 

The only real light he can see is the small red dots from what he hopes dearly are various emergency lights. There should be a huge window across from him but he can't see it, and since it was early morning when he got to the hospital it should still be extremely bright out. But there's nothing. Even though it's pitch black the darkness doesn't feel as oppressive as he thought it would, and right now there's no real sense of danger...But...

"What do you think?" He says, glancing over his shoulder at Flick. 

"Well...We're already here, and it's not gonna let us go until it thinks it's trapped us. I'm pretty sure, at least." Flick moves forward to stand next to him, looking around himself. "It knows we're here, and more importantly it knows I'm here, which means it's either more powerful than I think or it's stupid for not being afraid of a demon." 

"Great." Flippy mutters, before sighing. "Good thing I charged my phone before this." Even with his impressive night sight, he doesn't think he'd be able to actually see anything with how little light there is here. He steps out. 

The second he's crossed the threshold the doors behind him slam shut with a cheerful little ding. The light from the elevator disappears and he's plunged into pure darkness. But only for a moment, because just as soon as he's recovered from the startle reaction all the lights turn back on. 

It is, however, immediately clear that something is very, very wrong. 

Flippy has been in the hospital a lot. He has to spend a lot of time in here both for his job and because he has his terrible habits. So it's immediately obvious that this is not the hospital he's spent so much time in. 

First off, the window that's supposed to be across from him is completely gone. In its place is a nurse's station, which makes absolutely no sense for the area. The nurse's station is empty, too, which it would never be normally. Then there's the hallways stretching out from either direction on his side- Normally they would be short and he'd be able to see the stairs from here. But these are stretching out past where the lights can show; oh, and of course the lights aren't all on. There's only a select few that are, and they're weak like someone's forgotten to change the bulbs lately. 

Then there's the final nail in the coffin, which is that the normally cold sterile scent of the hopsital has been replaced with a subtle but distinct scent of rot. 

"Hm." Flippy says, grimacing a bit. "I think I can understand what's happened now. If someone wasn't aware of everything ahead of time, they probably wouldn't think too much of the changes...Or they'd be so panicked they'd immediately run off." 

"Blech. Smells like mold in here. If you're doing a scary hospital the least get blood involved." Flick turns his nose up at the scene. 

"Please. I am begging you not to jinx us. Or do you just want to have control?" Flippy huffs at him before taking a wary step towards the nurse's station. It being empty feels so wrong. It looks like it would if someone had just left in order to go to lunch or got an emergency call, but it's never empty for more than a minute. This kind of makes it look like all the nurses got spirited away...

He gets close enough to check on the papers scattered across the desk, and immediately recoils. The words on the papers aren't...really words. It's like something that has an idea of what language is tried to write something coherent. It mostly hurts to look at. 

"Huhn. I honestly kind of expected it to be demonic. But this is just nonsense." Flick looks at the papers and scoffs loudly. Flippy would scold him if his head wasn't killing him. He does NOT need whatever's around here to start getting really angry because he keeps mocking it. 

"Hm. Okay. So." Flippy takes a deep breath before looking at Flick seriously. "How are we going to do this. Because I don't know what would be a smarter idea...To go after the monster specifically and hope that frees everyone, or to try and find all the people who were lost first." 

"Well, do we even know how many people that is? And what if they're like, really fucked up?" Flick leans against the station and shrugs. He seems so completely unbothered by all of this. It's kind of annoying. "I say we go after whatever's made a home here, eat it, and then go from there." 

"...Eat it." 

"Eat it." 

Flippy decides he'll come back to that later. Maybe never! Seriously, what the fuck. He sighs and turns to look down the ever stretching hallways. Neither look like anything he's familiar with...But maybe he'll find that the layout is more similar than he thinks. To the right leads almost directly to the front entrance of the hospital. To the left, leads towards the basic labs and the emergency department. Hm. While he's sure that whatever it is is likely to be hiding deeper in the hospital, if he was a panicked lost soul he would try and find any exit first. 

He turns towards the right. It's a little hard to act as confident as he has to, in order to dissuade anything from happening to him. The truth of the matter is that he's freaked the fuck out. This is on a whole different level to the things he's dealt with before, not to mention that he doesn't know anything about where he is. At least with the previous issues he's been in the real world, in a place that he knows well enough. The way Giggles described everything implies that even if these people have died they haven't reset back in town. He doesn't like the idea of something powerful enough to circumvent the curse like that. 

The lights turn on as he walks down the hallway, and a quick glance over his shoulder proves that they're turning off as he goes further. Great. 

"I really don't like this." He mutters, huffing through his nose. "I feel like this is all just one big trap. Like a spider's web, but with worse connotations." 

"That's not the worst comparison." Flick hums, looking at posters on the wall. They've replaced the normally soothing and comforting ones for...things that hurt his head to look at. He thinks there's a lot of threats on them as well, but those bother him a whole lot less. "Most people are gonna try and find their way out, and then get more and more panicked when they realize they're stuck. I bet this thing lures them closer and closer to its lair so that it can get them." 

"...I sincerely hope that none of them are dead forever." Flippy says. "Not only because of what that would mean for the curse, but...I've been thinking. Flaky disappeared the other day. They might be here too..." 

"Oh right your cute lil crush. Hm. That's a fair point honestly, I didn't think much about that..." Flick shrugs. "Don't bother worrying about it until we come up against it directly, I say. You'll just freak and spiral when you don't even know everything that'll be wrong." 

He might be right, but that doesn't mean Flippy has to be happy about it. He just wants to keep his friends safe and away from harm that the town seems so keen on putting them all through. Is that really such a terrible thing to want? 

They round the corner and Flippy stops in his tracks, so startled by what lies in front of him. 

The front door is still there, sure. But instead of it being open and leading outside, it's completely blocked off. Bars and boards of wood are across its glass windows, and piles of debris and furniture are pushed up against it. Even if he was strong enough to move everything by himself he doesn't think it would be too safe. No, as he gets closer there's definitely rust on some of the things, and he would definitely injure himself badly with just one wrong move. 

But there's something interesting nearby the front doors as well. Scribbled off to the side is a quick scrawl of a house, as well as an arrow pointing into the darkness. He studies it with equal parts wariness and hope. It looks like it was drawn out of chalk or something similar, which is good because he was honestly expecting it to be blood. Maybe...Maybe one of the lost souls in here drew this, and he can follow it? ...Or maybe it's a trick that the thing left for anyone coming this way. Whichever is true, he should follow it. 

"Hey, Flick?" He asks, slightly under his breath. For whatever reason he doesn't feel like he should be speaking too loudly in here. 

"Yeah?" Flick has no such worries, probably because he's not exactly fully real. 

"I give you full permission to help out if it seems like there's real danger going on." He says, hoping that he won't regret this. Flick just grins at him, all sharp teeth and eagerness for violence. 

"You got it, babe."

Chapter Text

Flippy hates hospitals. He has spent too long in them, struggling to survive and figure out who he is. But he's figured out something he hates even more: Haunted hospitals. 

The way directed by the scribble has become...unpleasant! To say the very least! Darker, colder, and wetter somehow. It's not blood or he'd really be freaking out, but whatever it is is horrifically cold and slimy to the touch. Unfortunately for him, he didn't think about actually bringing anything with him while looking into a haunted area so he has to keep his hand on the wall in order to not get lost in the dark corridor. 

"I hate this, I hate this, I hate this," He chants softly under his breath. It doesn't really help. He still hates this, and he's still stuck here, but he doesn't want to listen to whatever creepy ambiance there is around here. 

"You know, if you let me take care of things, you wouldn't have to freak out this much." Flick says, walking slightly behind him. He's paying attention to behind them, which Flippy appreciates, but he still kind of wants to throttle him whenever he's snarky. Which is always. 

"Yes, you're right. But that doesn't mean it would be a good idea." 

"Hm." Flick glances over his shoulder, which does not fill Flippy with happiness. Fuuuck. "We're getting closer to...something. I'm not entirely sure what." 

"You are just full of comforting words today, aren't you?" Flippy says. Then he pauses, and squints. 

There, just around the corner, he can see an odd...blue light. Huh. If it were red, he would honestly have just turned around and done his best to go home. But there's something a lot more comforting and calming about blue. And Flick doesn't seem to find it worthy of panic, so...He continues on. 

If his mental map is correct (and he doubts it is, considering how warped the building is) then this should be around...the chapel, actually. Huh. Isn't that fitting. 

The door is familiar indeed when he approaches it. There's no sound that he can hear, so maybe it'll be safe enough...He pushes it open, and blinks at the feeling of gentle, cool air brushing against his face. That's even stranger, all things considered! The chapel has windows, sure, but they're fake and wouldn't open to any air. Still. It seems like the nicest possible place to go right now, so he steps inside after taking a deep breath. 

The room is dark, with no trace of that comforting blue light from before. The lights are on, though they're weak and flickering in and out of power. The pews are a mess, strewn up against the walls. It's kind of strange, because if they were meant to barricade the door they would have to be. Against the door, or at the very least closer to it. But it looks like whatever moved them was trying to barricade the windows...that don't work. 

Whatever. He's fine with that. 

"Ugh...What do you feel in here?" He says. Silence for a moment. He raises his head. "Flick?" 

"Over here." 

Feeling more relief than is proper, he turns towards the altar, smiling. Flick is leaning against it, grinning wide at him. 

"Ah. What did you find?" He starts walking over, glancing around further. This whole place...mm. He doesn't totally love how it feels, but Flick isn't freaking out or telling him that he has to be careful. So it's probably just a horrible feeling like the rest of the place, but nothing really evil. Or at least nothing more evil than Flick. 

"Nothin'. Maybe this place really is safe." Flick says. He's smiling in that specific way that shows off his teeth. Flippy pretends he isn't looking at them at all. "Or maybe it's just trying to draw us in. Stupid of it either way, honestly." 

"Hm... I thought we might find some survivors in here. Who drew that little sign, after all? Who would draw it and then, what, fuck off? THat doesn't make any sense to me." He goes to sit on the edge of the altar, sighing. He should have asked GIggles more information before running in here, but he didn't think it would be so...difficult. "Hm. I think after catching my breath I'm going to go back out there. Check and see what we can find." 

"Catching your breath, huh?" Flick leans in a bit. Flippy can almost feel his breath on him. "Is that a fancy way to say you're gonna spend some time with me before getting back into it?" 

"What? ...Well-" Flippy coughs into his hand. His ear flicks a bit, and he pretends he isn't totally embarrassed. "Now that you mention it...I guess that could work. What I really want to do is spend some time recuperating, and, well, you're kind of a part of that-" 

"That's an awful lot of words to say yes, Flip." Flick grins and leans in, his eyes glinting brightly under the low light. 

Maybe it's because it's happening in the middle of the chapel, but it feels particularly...embarrassing. But for the same reason, it feels incredibly exciting... Getting some time alone, even if it's in a damp, definitely haunted area, it's. Well, he'd be lying if he said he was against it...

"Mmhm. Maybe. You know how to shut me up though, don't you?" Flippy says, playfully. Flick's eyes go dark with interest, and Flippy is preparing himself to explain to anyone who meets him later why he looks like he's been mauled, when he feels a hand grab the back of his jacket and haul him backwards. 

With a yelp he topples, completely caught off guard. His ass hits the cold ground and he grunts a little bit. He isn't able to squirm and turn around to see who it is right away, because they're dragging him further away from the altar. 

"Hey!" He shouts, twisting finally to get a good- Huh. 

Flick is looking up towards the altar with wild eyes, his hand bunched in the material of Flippy's jacket. He's snarling, looking like he's about to jump the length of the room. Flippy stares, feeling a pit form in the middle of his stomach, before turning his head towards the altar area again. 

Where Flick once stood, there's now just a shadow of a man- a suggestion of a bear, really. And behind it is that bright, oh so comforting blue light. And beyond that- Well. He doesn't try to look. He might not always have thes strongest survival instinct, but he knows when something would be a bad idea. 

"Oh shit!" He says, and scrambles up frantically. "You- What-" 

"In a minute!" Flick snaps at him, and Flippy can only nod. That makes sense, even if it's a little frustrating. Answers aren't the important part here. 

Flick pushes him towards one of the walls and FLippy goes, backing up until he hits it. Whatever's going on, he thinks he would just be in the way, so he doesn't find it insulting to be benched. If Flick needed him, he'd say so. 

As soon as he's out of the way, Flick moves. He's quicker than a mortal would be able to be, going from one end of the room to the other in a breath. He grabs the shadow, and while it doesn't fight back in a way Flippy can see, he does see the slashes that open up on Flick as soon as he touches it. 

"Flick!" He shouts, but still doesn't move. If he can't see what's happening, what's he going to do to help? If he gets in the way and it's not even something that can be pushed back by holy power...Ugh, but he hates how helpless he feels. 

"I'm fine! This is nothing!" Flick shouts back, laughing a little bit at the end. Not remotely surprising, but it still makes Flippy sag a little in relief. He just has to trust him. That's the easiest thing in the world, isn't it? He watches as Flick grabs the shadow by the head, his hand sinking into it a little bit, before just- 

Oh. Flippy is glad he has a strong stomach for Flick's bullshit. Anyone else would have thrown up seeing someone's head get torn off, even if it's not bloody. There goes any thought of asking this thing any questions. The light quickly fades, and Flick runs back over. 

"You idiot!" He yells, grabbing Flippy by the shoulders and shaking him. Not too roughly though, he notices. "I- You-! AUGH."

"What happened?" Flippy asks, instead of scolding him for being rough and rude when he barely knows what's going on. 

"...Fuuuuccckkkkkkk you don't even know. How the hell am I supposed to be mad at you when- Ugh. Well first off, when you walked in here the door shut in my face and I had to force my way through." He thumbs over his shoulder, where indeed the door is broken in. Which is...really strange. It's not like Flick is a solid being, so what was it that stopped him? "And then I see you getting entranced by that fucking thing." 

"...Oh." He does at least look a little sheepish about that. "Well, it's just...It's not like it was strange. It was posing as you." 

"...Damn it Flip, make it easier to stay mad at you please." Flick huffs before pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're okay. That thing was absolutely gonna eat you." 

"...So it's like a lantern fish. Fuck. That explains...a lot." He rubs at his face, sighing. He doesn't even want to know what would happen if they happened to be killed in here. Judging by how other people haven't come back... "Okay. Well, do you think you killed it?" 

"Nah. That was just one like...arm. It wasn't the full thing. The main body is hiding out somewhere else." Flick looks annoyed just thinking about it. Flippy doesn't blame him. 

"That's...a problem. Mm. Do you think there's some way you can make it so I don't get caught by it anymore?" He really doesn't want to deal with that again. Not that he'd be totally complaining about multiple Flicks, but when one wants to kill him for real...

"Well, yeah. I can take over and you won't have to worry about being fooled." Flick shrugs. "Matter of fact you can follow like I am right now. Then you can use your smarts and I can use my big cool powers." 

That...hm. That makes sense, and it just might work well enough. Flippy is a bit wary of it being so easy, though. 

"Will it be easy to find the main body even if you're possessing me?" 

"What is this, twenty questions?" Flick says. "Okay okay don't look at me like that, I know you're being genuine. Uhhh, I should be able to I think. It'll be a little more annoying but we have a proper contract and all. And if I have problems I'll just...tell you." 

"...Alright then." Flippy readies himself, nodding. Trying not to feel as nervous as he is. 

This is extremely different to when Sargeant takes over during a switch. Usually when that happens he's either not fully aware until after the fact, or he has a strange sort of dissociation going on for a while that he only understands later. But this is just...like being punched right out of his body, without pain. One moment he's standing normally and the next he's standing next to himself. And it's a lot more literal than when he's dissociated before. 

"...Wow." He murmurs, looking at himself. He's very lightly seethrough, and he has all the control he would in his body regularly. It's. Weird. "So this is what it's like when you have proper control over this magic stuff, huh?"

"Yeah," And good lord above is it weird to hear his voice coming from not him. Though...Flick's version of his voice is a bit rougher. Not to the point where anyone would notice if they weren't paying attention, but...Flippy is always paying attention to him. "It's a whole hell of a lot easier than what I was doing at first, let me tell you. I don't have to struggle for control with you, for one." 

"Right..." He watches as Flick starts walking off, though he stays standing where he is. He wants to test how far away they can be from each other before things start being troublesome. He makes it a couple of feet before he feels a tug, just under his sternum, and he has to walk forward. 

"...You alright?" Flick looks back at him. 

"Oh! Yeah, I'm just...checking something. Don't worry about me." He waves his hand and goes to walk next to him, holding his hand. It works exactly as intended, because Flick immediately flushes and doesn't ask any other questions. 

Going through the hospital is a lot easier with Flick leading the charge. Flippy isn't sure exactly what he's doing, but whatever it is has him walking through the halls with perfect confidence, even though he really shouldn't be able to. Flippy doesn't bother to ask, because he doesn't need to know Flick's powers in order to trust in them. 

They go down a lot of stairs, that much he knows for sure. And for every flight they go down, the scent of blood and rot gets stronger. 

"...This place is awful. And...I don't think there are nearly this many floors in the regular hospital." Flippy says, glancing around. He really wishes that as a ...spirit? or whatever he is, he didn't have the sense of smell. 

"There definitely isn't, but that doesn't matter. We're getting closer to this thing's lair, and that means closer to its power. I'm pretty sure this thing can warp the space however it wants. We aren't exactly in the real world anymore, too..." Flick grimaces a bit as he pushes a bunch of damp, rotten gauze out of a doorway. "You can tell we're getting closer because things make less logical sense. Like, what? Why's there gauze? Doesn't matter. The point is to frighten and show off its powers." 

"...I see." Flippy says. "Okay, so what do you want from me when you go to confront it? I don't want to be a problem for you." 

"Hm. Good point. I don't know if you'd be okay with just...going in for a little bit?" Flick grins at him. "Since this isn't a fully real space, it can interact with you and shit. It really would be easier if I didn't have to worry about it killing you." 

Mm. Flippy isn't entirely sure how he feels about that. On the one hand, sure, it could be the smartest thing to do. But on the other...He doesn't know. It makes him feel useless to think about it, honestly. Like, what's the point of him even being here if he's not going to be of any real use? 

"...Hey." Flick reaches out and ruffles Flippy's fur, making him jump in surprise. "I know that look on your face. Don't feel so down, alright? Think of it this way- There's plenty of fights that we're gonna get into in the future-" 

"Uh, I hope not??" 

"In the future-" Flick completely ignores him, the bastard. "And I'm not always going to be the one to go to so we win. We work well together, and you know plenty well that sometimes means one of us takin' charge, right?" 

"...I guess so." Flippy sighs a bit. Flick just grins at him and leans in, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. It does do wonders to immediately cheer him up, it's true. "Alright, alright...I guess you've convinced me. Just be careful, alright? I want my body in good condition when I get it back." 

"I'll do my best." Flick says, which isn't...exactly a promise, but it's probably as good as he's gonna get. That's the struggle with an insane man piloting his body. Flippy kind of knew that when he agreed to all of this, though...And at worst he'll just have to get some help patching himself up at home. Not like he's ever going to spend another moment in the hospital after this. 

They walk for a few more minutes, before Flick stops and holds out his hand. 

"Alright. We're close by. Uh, just...Hold on." He seems to be concentrating, so Flippy goes quiet and lets him focus...only realizing a few moments too late that he's gone far more see through and untouchable. "There. ...Jeeze, I wish I could have kept him around so that he could see how cool I'm about to be..." 

Flippy blinks, and reaches out for Flick, but his hand goes right through his shoulder. Huh. That's...strange. The way he's talking Flippy was probably meant to go completely into their shared headspace, but that doesn't seem to have happened. Did something go wrong? Or is it just because this is the first time Flick's tried something like this, so he doesn't know what the side effects would be? 

...Either way he just hopes the important part of this worked correctly. He doesn't want to be an accidental issue during the confrontation. 

He has to stick even closer to Flick than before, now only about half a foot behind him rather than a few. It's not very fun, but it does encourage him a bit to think that maybe if he's this closely tied to his body that it worked. Flick glances around himself, before stretching a bit and sighing. 

"Alright. Let's do this then." He says, before pushing open the door in front of him. 

Chapter Text

Stepping into the creature's lair is a different feeling to what Flippy had expected. Truth be told, he hadn't really known what to think of...maybe a more spooky evil hospital setting? 

But instead...there's a blinding flash of light, and he finds himself standing in the middle of a pure white room, almost sickeningly clean and pristine in its looks. He blinks and looks around, noting that not only can he not see Flick, but when he tries to reach out to feel him there's nothing. Normally that would be a reason for panic, but he already kind of knew that this creature fucks with minds. He has a pact with Flick, and he doubts that it would be that easy to get rid of him, even if he wanted to. 

He takes a few cautious steps forward, and jumps as a door swings open nearby. A few tense seconds pass before he creeps towards it, uncertainly. He can move more or less freely, so he can only imagine that whatever's happening isn't actually real. Maybe Flick is fighting the creature in the physical area, and he's going to have to deal with it in the mind? 

No actually he supre hopes that isn't the case. He's not going to have any fun doing that at all. 

Stepping outside of the white room he's in a totally different place. It's not the hospital, still, instead being a dark room lit only by a roaring fireplace. The furniture is all expensive looking and varying shades of deep blues. It feels...strange. Not nostalgic, exactly, but like he's feeling deja vu from someone else. He steps inside warily, and only flinches a little bit when the door shuts behind him with a decisive click. 

This must be the creature going through memories to mess with him again, but...he doesn't remember a place like his at all. Why wouldn't it just go back to teasing him with Flick? Or is it too distracted? ...Well, maybe he can glean some clues if he looks around. He doesn't think there's anything else for him to do right now. 

It's warm in here but he still feels a chill. Even getting closer to the fire doesn't help, which is...annoying. He touches some of the furniture, wondering if maybe a certain sensation will bring him understanding, but to no luck. He goes over to the bookshelves, but none of the titles are in a language he recognizes, and he can't seem to take any out anyhow. Maybe part of this is that he can only interact with what he actually did in the real memory...? But what would that be- 

The floor creaks behind him and he whips around. There's a shadow in the corner, tall and looming. It doesn't look like Flick. In fact, there's still...no memory, but he feels a certain sense of intense dread looking at it. It's silent, however he feels like it's staring at him hard. 

He feels frozen to the spot. Whoever, whatever this is, it's bringing the kind of dread that he rarely ever has to actually deal with since leaving the army. He has a horrible feeling that if it moves even an inch past the shadows and he sees what it really is, then he's going to regret it. And what's worse, he won't be able to unsee it. 

There's a small motion from the shadow and he closes his eyes tightly, unwilling to see whatever it is when it moves out. He finds himself praying for Flick, begging him in his head to hurry up and come find him. Of all things in the world, he needs his partner to be here and help him- He has no doubt that Flick would be able to make all of this go away, to make it okay. 

Almost as soon as he thinks that, there's a rumble and a flash of blue light so intense that even with his eyes shut as tight as they are he sees it, and then he feels hands on his shoulders. 

"Flippy!" 

He opens his eyes to find Flick staring worriedly into his eyes. He almost stumbles, because he didn't expect to be back in his body, and...wow. Ow. Ow!!!! 

"What the hell did you do?" He says, except it comes out more slurred and out of it than he expected. This is like when he spends time reading for a few hours at a time and when he stands up everything suddenly hits him at once. 

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it. Look, we're back! That's all you need to know!" Flick does not meet his eyes when he says this, so...God only knows what he's done. Flippy can bother him about it when he can think straight again. 

He looks around, and notices a lot of...well, it's a mix of dead bodies and people who are clearly just unconscious, which is good. The fact that the missing people all came back means that the curse of the town will actually revive them, and he won't have to worry harder about....whatever happens if your soul is stuck in limbo here. They're also outside the elevators, which is extra good because he did not want to have to travel upstairs in one again. 

His legs give out on him, and he sits down on the floor hard, groaning.

"You owe me so much for this, Flick." He mutters, rubbing at his face before his hands come away disgustingly sticky. For a moment he almost panics, but whatever's on his hands is a bright blue so...it's at least not normal blood. "God, you must have mauled it like an animal." 

"Lil bit. But if you'd seen the thing, man, you would have too!" Flick sits next to him, patting his shoulder. There's the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching them, and he can only assume it's the various doctors and nurses who've gotten the call that a bunch of people just landed in out of nowhere. "...You should probably rest. I don't think you're gonna make for much of a conversationalist if you try anything right now." 

"Mmf." He can't really argue, being as exhausted as he is. But he still knows that...well, he's going to have to talk to someone eventually. It's a lot easier to do that when he can think, but...Ugh. He can already feel the exhaustion hitting him like a wall he isn't going to be able to jump over. 

He doesn't even realize that he's passed out until he opens his eyes again. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised. It was... Well, even if Flick hadn't been kicking ass like a bad action movie, it would still be a lot to deal with. The horror, and the oppressive feelings he had to deal with the entire time...It's a wonder that he didn't pass out while trying to work. He feels a little bit better, but not by much. 

He's...hm. It looks like he's actually still in the hospital, in one of the rooms. That means that Flick didn't drag them off home. He must have been even more exhausted than they thought, if he wasn't able to get them home. Flippy isn't...thrilled, to have to deal with more of the hospital, but at least this area doesn't smell like sickness or medicine. The window's open, and the scent of the warm day outside is wafting in. It's nice. 

There's a knock on the door, and Giggles pokes her head in. 

"Father! You're awake! What a relief." 

"Oh, hello. Were you the one who brought me in here?" He sits up slowly, grimacing a little bit at the aches and pains running through him. He's getting way too old to be fighting eldritch abominations with all the intensity Flick brings to things. 

"Well, not me specifically- I'm not that strong- but I found you! Oh, and," Giggles goes over and grasps his hand, looking at him intensely. "Thank you so, so much for your help. I didn't...I mean, it sounds like, super mean but I kind of didn't expect you to be so successful?" 

Flippy snorts at that. 

"No offense taken, Giggles. I know as well as anyone else that this was something that was kind of...a mess." 

"Ugh, you can say that again." She goes to sit in the chair across from him, looking at him expectantly. A bit embarrassing to suddenly be looked at so intensely. But he can handle it. "So? What happened? What was it?" 

"Ah...I'm not sure on specifics just yet, I'm afraid. But I know that whatever it was, it was warping space to make it look like it was in an area where the hospital was run down and horrible. And from what I experienced, it was also using hallucinations to make people believe they were safe, before attacking them. That's why no one was able to come back on their own." 

"I see..." Giggles looks considering at that, rubbing at her chin in thought. "That kind of makes sense? Like, a lot of the time it would be single people who went onto the elevator and didn't come back. That's soooo scary, I was in the elevator alone a few times!!" 

"Yes, well, I think I really and truly got rid of it without any issues. You shouldn't have to worry about it any longer." 

"Oh thank goodness." She sighs heavily and leans back in the chair, humming. "But, Father, did you...happen to see Flaky around, when you were down there?" 

"Hm? No, I didn't see anyone at all. Are they not with the people who came back up with me?" 

"Nope."

 "Hm...Well I wouldn't be too worried, honestly. Maybe they got taken in earlier and their body um...Wasn't really enough to bring back." He realized halfway through that sentence that he really shouldn't be talking about the horrors of digestion and decomposition to someone who's worried about their friend. "In any case, I'm sure we'll see them in the next day or two." 

"Hm...Well, yeah, you're probably right." She sighs again like the world is on her shoulders, before standing up. "Well, you're free to leave when you want! I just wanted you to have a moment resting before you ran off to be a hero again! And this way you kind of looked like just another victim you know...I know you don't super duper love being the center of attention and all that." 

He's a bit touched by her thoughtfulness. He wouldn't have minded the questions being thrown at him, but he does really appreciate getting to choose on whether or not he wants to deal with everything. "Thank you, Giggles. I think I'll skip out on talking to anyone else...Let's just say that I was unlucky." 

"Got it!" She flashes him a thumbs up before bouncing out of the room, in a noticeably better mood now. He watches her leave, and then rubs at his face, trying to overcome the exhaustion running through him. He doesn't want to stay here a second longer than he has to, and he would love to go relax at home...No matter what Giggles says, he's still pretty worried about people coming in to bother him about things. He doesn't know how he could possibly explain what happened, and he also isn't sure that he actually wants to. Some things are better staying private. 

He manages to slip out of the hospital without much issue. It's kind of a lucky thing that the people who were stuck in there weren't aware of it, so he doesn't have to worry about any of them recognizing him even when he passes by. It's a relief. 

Flick still hasn't come back around by the time he makes it back home. He would normally be worried, but... That was a lot of work. Plenty of action. Flcik probably can't use his powers 24/7, no matter how much he wants to pretend like he can. Flippy decides that he'll only start worrying about it when it's been days, and goes about starting some tea for himself. He's still exhausted, but this is something that will make it easier to relax. And besides...he can spend the time thinking about everything that happened. Maybe it's a good thing that Flick isn't here right now, there's no doubt in his mind that he would be very distracting.

Chapter Text

Flippy steps down out of his car, stretching and grunting a little bit at the sounds of all his bones popping back into place. The forest is quiet around him, the trees towering over him. But it's not in a bad way. It's familiar in a way that makes him feel comfortable. 

Flick had gotten back to him a full twelve hours after the incident at the hospital. It was a scary point in time, where he had geuinely started to wonder if everything he'd experienced was just a hallucination or dream. It was all so illogical that even with his memory still being crystal clear he had almost convinced himself. Thank God, though, just as he was about to give up Flick had decided to jump scare him in the bathroom mirror. 

He forgives him for making him punch the mirror, again, only because he didn't leave him. 

After all of...that...at the hospital, they'd both decided that the town can handle a few days by itself and that Flippy deserved a small vacation. Sure, it's the middle of the week, but even Flippy's extremely strong feeling of responsibility isn't enough to stop him from acknowledging that it's been hell lately. 

So now here they are. In the woods. 

To be perfectly honest Flick had wanted to go somewhere much further away. Said that it didn't make any sense for them to be so focused on the town, and anyhow if anything happened they'd just be dragged back kicking and screaming by their soul. Flippy agreed, but he couldn't quite convince himself that it would be right to leave everyone to fend for themselves. And the last thing he wants is to come back from a relaxing vacation to a giant disaster they have to clean up. Flick had conceded that point, at least. 

"How long's it been since you last went camping?" Flick is sitting nearby on a half-rotted stump, watching as Flippy unloads everything from the car and starts setting up the little camp. They're pretty far off the main path, because Flippy really, really doesn't want to be accidentally dragged into a party. Besides, he can handle himself, and it's not like he has to worry about death here. 

"A while. I was always alone, so I felt paranoid. But whenever I would try to go camping with other people, I would spend all my time freaking out about whether or not they were going to kill me in my sleep." 

"...Was this before or after you started getting medicated." 

"During."

"Yikes!"

Flippy rolls his eyes and ignores him as best he can. He's gotten a lot better since then, but that doesn't mean he wants to spend any real time with other people if he doesn't have to. He's a man who values his privacy and quiet. But at the same time, he knows that when he's alone he doesn't always like who he is as a person. Maybe that's why it's perfect that he has Flick now. He's someone who knows him so painfully intimately that he won't ever have to worry about embarrassing himself or saying something that'll make people look at him strangely. God only knows that Flick is someone who'll say something way worse just to make him laugh. 

"...Are you okay? You've been starin’ off into space for like, two minutes." Flick reaches over and shoves at his shoulder a bit. It almost makes him jump, but he resists the urge. Barely. 

"I'm fine! Just fine! Can't a man be a bit spacey when he's exhausted?" Flippy scoffs like Flick's the one being ridiculous. Of course he knows damn well it isn't going to work on Flick. He just wants to pretend like he isn't going to be made fun of this entire time- Is that really such an impossible ask? 

"If you say so, chief. Personally, I think if you were really that exhausted you shouldn't've come along on this little trip." Flick leans forward, looking up at him. Even though he can easily help out he doesn't. Flippy isn't sure if it's because he's conserving his powers or if he's just being an asshole. Either way... "So what's your two cents, huh? Don't leave me hanging." 

Flippy lets that hang in the air for a moment, but he knows very well that he isn't going to get out of this. Now that he can't just walk away and escape Flick, there's absolutely no way to avoid his questions forever. And Flick is clearly willing to wait, looking at him impatiently. 

"I just...Don't feel very good. After everything with the hospital, I've been feeling stranger and stranger. Especially with all it did to screw with us." He hits the pole of the tent particularly hard and grumbles when the damn thing visibly wants to collapse. "...I just don't like all of this. The fact that I had to rely so hard on you was...unpleasant, to say the least." 

"Uh huh. I thought it made me pretty gallant or something." Flick watches him with a different expression now. It's more...studying, than making fun of him. Flippy sighs. 

"It's not you. If it was, I wouldn't have agreed to come out here with you." 

"Which is fair." 

"But I really didn't do much. And you know me pretty well, right? You know how much that's going to bother me." 

"Hmmm." Flick lays back onto his side, looking bored but Flippy does know a bit better than to assume that he's not taking this seriously. Sure, he's not taking this as seriously as it feels, but that's probably partially to help...If he acts so casually about this, then maybe Flippy will calm the fuck down. Unlikely, but... "See, as far as I can see it, it isn't that big a deal. Sure, you were shunted off to the side for the final battle, but isn't that what I'm here for in the first place? To be your DPS? Aw, don't make that face, I don't mind being thought of that way, not really. Not when it's you." 

When he looks at Flippy like that, all calm honesty with his emotions, Flippy doesn't know what to do. It would be so much easier if Flick really was just an average evil demon setting out to ruin his life emotionally. But instead he's just Flick. 

"...But what if we get used against each other again in the future? I don't want to drag you down, and I don't think you want that either." 

"Ehhh. I don't think it would be that bad to be dragged down by you. You're seriously forgetting," He leans in to grab Flippy's hand and press a possessive kiss against the palm. Flippy feels his face light right up. "That I love you?" 

"...Obviously not!" He says a touch too slowly. Who can blame him though, really? Flick is looking up at him with such intensity that it's really hard to think perfectly straight. Not like he's ever thought like that to begin with... "But I love you too. And I don't want to become an issue..."

"Come on babe. I know you're kind of a soft touch, but am I seriously that difficult to trust?" Flick starts kissing his way up his arm, his lips leaving ghostly warmth that thrills Flippy to his core. "Even if I did end up getting totally screwed up because of you, it would be by your hand so it'd be fine. I love you." 

"...When you say that so obviously, it makes it hard to say anything back..." Flippy sighs a bit and leans forward to kiss him. Judging by Flick's smug expression it's what he was hoping for. Flippy could scold him for being so mischievous, but he doesn't have it in his heart. Besides, Flick would just find it funny... 

"I'm always right, Flip, just learn that already. Anyways, shouldn't we be enjoying our time out here? If you're just going to worry the whole time..."

"No, no, you're right. Yes, let me finish things up here..." Flippy sighs a little. 

It doesn't take that long to finish setting up camp, honestly. He's done it so often before that he could probably do it in his sleep...actually, he wouldn't be all that surprised if he had done it in his sleep at least once during the war. At least this time he has a fancier tent with a sleeping bag that won't be worse than just sleeping on the ground. He stretches a bit once he's done, humming. 

He plans to stay out here for two days, maybe one more if he's really having fun. But he probably won't, because he's a worrywart and the town will probably be on fire in a way that can't be reset if he stays out too long. And no matter how much he tries to convince himself that it'll be better to just let himself relax he can't fully admit that he's just worried. As much as he's tried to stay a professional distance from everyone, it's come to pass that he's very very fond of almost everyone in town. 

It doesn't help that there's been this weird uptick of incidents now. Sure, it can all be blamed on Flick being here, but something about that doesn't...feel right. Not completely, at least. Something else is going on, and he wants to figure it out so that he can help keep the people he cares about safe. 

"So what're you gonna do?" Flick asks, head propped up on his hands. 

"Hm?" Flippy glances down at him, a little startled that he's still sitting right there. Flick snorts. 

"For dinner, dumbass. Obviously. Your head is so in the clouds I guess I can't be surprised that you've almost totally forgotten we're supposed to be here to relax huh?" 

"Ugh. Don't tease me..." Flippy sighs and shakes his head. It's not like Flick is wrong... "It's hard for me to not worry, you know that. It's a lot easier to just...fuss..."

"Right well you can fuss over food c'mon. I can tell that you're hungry and that's why you're freaking out." He rolls his eyes at Flippy, and it would be more insulting if he was wrong. Damn it... "Just eat something, enjoy nature, and pretend like the rest of the world doesn't exist for a while, okay?" 

"Yeah yeah..." 

He grumbles, but it's not a bad plan at all. It's true that they came out here for him to relax and him fussing and worrying is just going to make everything worse. And he is hungry... He pops open his freezer and sighs a little bit. When he'd decided to come out here he hadn't exactly thought about what food would be the best... But fuck it, he deserves a s'more or two, doens't he? He sits back and looks up at the night sky peeking out in between the branches of the trees.

 "...Do you remember when we'd used to spend time with Sneaky and Kaboom like this?" 

Flick glances over at him, ear twitching even though he's feigning disinterest. It's not like Flippy to bring up anything from the war, so that's not too much of a surprise. He's probably wondering if he should be concerned. 

"...Yeah, I do. It was real nice." 

"Yeah, it really was...I liked spending time with them a lot." He idly bites into his s'more, remembering how the one time they'd gotten chocolate they'd made the worst version of one. Kaboom had dared them to eat one with a puffy mushroom in the middle....It had not ended well........ "You died...Did you ever see them?"

"Wh- That's not really how it works." Flick scoffs, but then goes quiet. He sighs after a moment. "No, I never saw hide nor hair of them. But...who knows. I wasn't exactly sane for the first little while after dying, so I didn't think to look for them...Who knows. They may have been hanging around for a while yelling at us before they finally passed on. I never saw them in Hell, but that's not saying much. Big place." 

...For some reason Flippy had never considered the fact that Hell would be a real place. He decides to deal with this revelation by not thinking about it at all. "That makes sense. It's kind of a shame though..."

"Sure, but their options are either wander around that bullshit rainforest forever or end up HERE which, haha, I wouldn't wish on anyone but the worst people on Earth." Flick scoffs and puts his entire hand in the fire absently. Flippy really, really has to resist the urge to flinch. Sure, he knows logically that he'll be just fine, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch. "And even then."

"Right..." He shakes his head. This isn't exactly the best thing to be thinking about. If he really wanted to relax, he would be thinking about Flick instead of anyone else. But his mind just keeps wandering... Maybe because he's become more in charge of a lot of people lately. It was one thing when he was just a priest without any real followers, but now people have come to actively rely on him. That kind of thing is a hell of a lot more complicated than sitting in his home alone and wasting away. 

He eats a few more s'mores, feeling cheered that at least sugar rushes still help him feel better. But he is, unfortunately and embarrassingly, still kind of an old man. He can only manage like three before his body and mind both make it very very clear that if he tries anything else he's going to pass out at best and throw up at worst. He's learned to listen, so he stretches a bit. 

"You're already heading in??" Flick sounds flabbergasted. Flippy rolls his eyes. 

"I'm not as young as I used to be... And it's late. I want to get up early tomorrow and maybe...I dunno, go fishing or something. I hear there's a pretty decent lake nearby." 

"Lake- Ha! That thing's a pond if anything. Obviously you need someone to help you figure things out, because a real fisherman would know that." 

"Right, of course. Whatever you say Flick." He rolls his eyes fondly and crawls into the tent. It's nothing fancy, but it is a lot more comfortable than your average tent might be. He spent more than enough time struggling on rocky ground that he at least spruced things up with a comfortable sleeping bag. 

He feels Flick's arms circle his chest, and he lets out a quiet breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Really, it's so comfortable being by him like this. It makes it easier to forget all the stress that he's been holding on to this whole time. He sighs and closes his eyes. Sure, he has a few days ahead of him that'll be peaceful (hopefully), but he isn't totally looking forward to going back to the town. It's going to be...so exhausting just dealing with the people there, not to mention anything supernatural that decides to rear its ugly head. 

...He's just going to have to figure it out, he supposes. Let no one say that Father Flippy is a coward. And extra let none of them ever say he isn't incredibly determined when he wants to be.