Work Text:
Ranger Ziggy Buggs blinked hard against the light pouring through the blue curtains and groaned at the early awakening. His phone buzzed on his end table and Ziggy glared at the offending object before picking it up.
Still blinking away sleep he smiled softly seeing the caller ID read “Flop”. His husband had always been the more positive of the two. Ziggy accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Mmorning Flop…..”
Silence is all that greets him as he shifts in bed. Ziggy rubs his eyes and sits up, confused at the silence. He once again says good morning and waits a moment before calling out to Flop. Static is all that answers for a moment before the silence is broken by a sweet sounding melody with a soft female voice.
“One little,Two little,Three little butterflies! Four little,Five little, Six little butterflies.”
Ziggy feels the blood rush from his face as his heart pumps hard in his chest. His mouth goes dry as the song brings memory after memory through his mind. Corpses and CD players covered in blood, a dark mineshaft echoing with staticky voices, a radio station filled with songs of the damned.
The ranger is dragged out of his spiral by the sudden change in the lullaby. A jazzy tune picking up quickly old and soulful as horns play in the background.
“When I get lonesome, I jump on the telephone! I call my baby tell her I’m on my way back home!”
Ziggys mind races once again and he covers his mouth whispering out the word no as his stomach churns, tears in his eyes while he grips the end of his bed. This isn’t happening. It CANT be happening. Not again. Please not again! The music persists however even through his silent pleas.
“Now Flip Flop and Fly! I don’t care if I die. Now Flip Flop and Fly!! I don’t care if I die!”
Ziggys blood runs cold and he begins begging the caller as tear tracks stain themselves on his cheeks. However the static grows louder and louder before cutting off the music and that same wretched lullaby plays through the phone. Ziggy is gasping for breath as tears steam down his face, unable to gather himself.
“Seven little, Eight little, Nine little Butterflies! Ten little Butterflies!”
Ziggy gulps in air as he quickly reaches for his gun out of the end table and begins to collect himself from the spiral he felt trapped in. Breathing through his nose as the rage sets in. The fear now held back by the anger pulsing through his veins.
“1,2,3….4,5,6….7,8,9,…10,10,10,10,10,10,”
As the numbers repeated the static grew louder and louder. This time however Ziggy responded not with panic but with a promise.
“When I find you and I WILL find you, if there is a single hair on my husbands head misplaced I will dump you into the deepest part of the ocean where not even death can save you.”
The call ends after a moment and leaves Ziggy to collect his thoughts. After a second of scrolling through his contacts he pauses over a number and calls it. The line rings for what feels like eternity before picking up to a tired and confused trooper. Ziggy stares down at the gun in his hands and then clears his throat to reply.
“Snow she’s back… Faye is back and she’s taken Flop this time.”
Snow is silent on the other side of the phone as he processes the information and Ziggys throat closes as more tears come to the surface. His voice breaks as he thinks of his husband scared and alone.
“I…. I need your help….. Please.”