Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Sweetheart came to me a long time ago, a poor girl from the desert, and begged me on her knees to make this place hers. I gave her what she desired. A castle full of riches, servants for her to command, a stage for her to flaunt her power. Yet…she still wants more. It must be a curse.”

~ ~ ~

“I’m so sick of this!!”

“Oh, but Sweepheart, you’re doing such a lovely job though.”

“A lovely job of ruining my concentration…”

Deep inside the insides of a whale were three squid scientists, their experiments, and one servant who did the sweeping.

Swinging the broom roughly against the floor, said servant grumbled and cursed.

Medusa sighed, leaning back from her work. “If you can’t do it quietly, why don’t you go to Marina’s lab and make a ruckus over there?”

“No! Marina and Molly always want to experiment on me so I’d rather put up with you here.”

Medusa scoffed at the audacity of her remark while her greatest experiment, Perfectheart, cheered in joy. “Oh yay!” She smiled and made a heart with her hands. “I love having you here too, sister!”

“I’m not your sister!” Sweepheart snapped. “This is all your fault - yours and that robot and that mutant! I wish I never had you made!”

Perfectheart gasped, tears starting to slide down her cheeks. She dashed out of the lab in a flurry of broken hearts. 

Medusa glared at the sweeping servant. “How dare you hurt my perfect creation’s feelings?”

“How dare you keep me prisoner here?” she shot back.

“How dare you not pay us what you owe?”

“How dare you create something like that and expect me to pay??”

“It’s what you requested!” Medusa raised her voice, feeling her emotions begin to cannonball. “SO. PAY. UP.”

Sweepheart grit her teeth, having had this argument plenty of times in the past. But it never got her anywhere except more trash thrown on the floor for her to sweep, so she had to come up with something else. Swallowing her pride, she changed her tone and proposed a deal. “FINE. Even though your scams are despicable, I’ll pay you what was promised. So just let me out and I’ll get you the clams.”

“Pah!” Medusa let out a bitter laugh and swiveled back in her chair. “Get back to sweeping, Sweepheart. You’re never leaving.”

“UGH don’t you want your clams?? I’m serious! I can-”

“Oh? She’s serious, sisters!” A snide cackling erupted as Marina strode into Medusa’s lab, along with Molly and the other Hearts at her tentacle heels. “Perfectheart told us Sweepheart was misbehaving,” she informed, while Perfectheart herself was protectively flanked between her sisterhearts, still clearly shaken up. “So why not a bit of experimentation as punishment?” Marina eagerly suggested while Molly eyed with interest. 

“Grrr…” Sweepheart glared at Perfectheart, but Roboheart and Mutantheart stepped in front of her.

“I don’t want you to punish her," Perfectheart said quietly. “I just want us all to act like real sisters, like you three do.”

“Oh honey, we’re not your normal group of sisters.”

“Fine,” Sweepheart answered her ‘sister’ and took a breath. “Perfectheart, if you want us all to be sisters, then you have to GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

“Ugh…” Medusa shut her eyes and pressed her temple.

“I don’t think so!” Marina snarled. "You owe us big time so you’ll be sweeping for the rest of your life!”

“Would you rather have me around 24/7 sweeping, or would you rather have clams?”

The slime sisters exchanged a glance. Molly sighed “Obviously we want the clams, but you don’t have any, darling.”

“But I do, back at my castle! I can get you your 100,000 clams!”

“Umm, it was 1,000,000 clams.”

“Umm, I’ve been sweeping for a long time now, I think the number would’ve gone down?” she fired back indignantly.

Medusa choked out a laugh. “She sweeps for one year and thinks it should be ten times less…”

“Oh why not?” Molly sat on Medusa’s desk (much to her chagrin) and gave in. “If we’re not gonna experiment on her, let's just get rid of her. Do you really want her around for the rest of our lives?”

“But that’s highway robbery!” Marina screeched. “I’ll experiment on her; let me at her!”

As her tentacles lunged for the broom bearer, Perfectheart jumped in between. “No!” she cried out, and Marina reluctantly stopped her charge. “Sweepheart may be an obnoxious, awful, horrible person, but she’s still my sister!”

“What?!” Sweepheart gasped, incredulous. “Cuz you’re so perfect?”

“Actually she is.” Medusa rounded on her, ANGER evident on her face. “That’s why her name’s Perfectheart.” 

“Ooh, little sis is maaaad.” Marina giggled and Medusa continued.

“She’s vouching for you, and you still yell at her?”

“How is calling me horrible and obnoxious ‘vouching’ for me?”

Medusa threw her hands up. “She’s utterly impossible. Sisters? What do you say?”

“I say we get some use out of her…I’ve been itching to recreate my 667th experiment for a long time now. And she’d make the perfect test subject, ehehehe.”

“Just let her go, I’m over it.” Molly said despondently. “Humphrey will probably eat her on the way out anyway.”

Medusa inhaled, saying her next words with a great deal of effort. “...alright. We’ll let you go.”

“WHAT?” Marina screamed.

Medusa narrowed her eyes. “For 100,000 clams.” Looking at Sweepheart’s triumphant grin, she sighed again - this whole discussion was such a displeasure. “Come back here in three months with your reduced debt, and you’ll be free. If not -”

“You’re Humphrey food!” Marina finished, ENRAGED while Molly shrugged apathetically. 

Sweepheart laughed arrogantly. “Three months for 100,000 clams? Consider it done. Ohohohohoho!”

“Yay!” Perfectheart was thrilled, all prior transgressions forgotten already. “We’ll be rooting for you, sister! Here,” She held out her trusty ol’ mace. “Take this, and be careful, Sweepheart.”

Sweepheart stared at the mace in Perfectheart’s hand and felt the fury bubbling to the surface. “For the last time, I’m not your sister and my name is not Sweepheart! UGH!” Bringing the broom to her knee, she snapped it in half and tossed it to the floor. “IT’S SWEETHEART!” she yelled before snatching the mace and running off.

Marina stomped forward, pushing aside the crying Perfectheart and picking up the broken broom. “MAKE THAT 100,001 CLAMS YOU BITCHHEART!!”

Chapter Text

Finally Sweetheart reached the doors to her castle, panting and catching her breath. It was almost like playing whack-a-mole, fighting her way through the humphries, but she managed to whack the right ones and made her escape.

But escaping the whale wasn’t the end of her troubles, the Deep Well was quite the distance from her home. And Sweetheart hated walking on foot. But having no choice, she trudged all the way back, thrilled to at least be free of those obnoxious slime sisters and Imposterhearts. And that broom.

But only temporarily free, of course. 

Eager to get back to her lavish lifestyle, Sweetheart pushed open the doors and marched inside. 

“Ahh! Sweetheart’s back!”

“Sweetheart Sweetheart I missed you so much!”

“Sweetheart I’d give my life for you - will you please make me yours?”

A horde of obsessive sprout moles instantly crowded by her feet, stopping her in her tracks. “Now now, my lovely fans, I know you missed me,” she purred sweetly, although a murderous glint ensnared her mien. “But you’re IN MY WAY!” She swung her mace hard and knocked the surrounding sprout moles.

“Worth it,” uttered a sprout mole with heart-eyes before succumbing to TOAST.

Striding past the remaining adoring moles, she hurried to the southwest wing. With each step down the hidden secluded pathway the more anxious she became. She realized she never once came back down this way since making that fateful wish. Steeling her nerves and tightening her grip on her mace, she barged into the room.

The room that held the Keeper of the Castle.

“And so the poor girl from the desert visits once more.” Their voice sent chills down Sweetheart’s spine, and being reminded of her origins felt all the more intrusive coming from them.

“I haven’t been the ‘poor girl from the desert’ in a very long time, and I never will be again!” She hmphed, not quite getting the irony of her situation. “I didn’t come all the way here to reminisce; I’m here because I’m dissatisfied with my wish!”

“Are you…?”

“Yes!” she pressed and began pacing circles around them. “The castle is great and the sprout moles obey my every whim, but what I’m missing is the actual physical clams. SO!” Coming to a halt in front of them, she haughtily held out her hand. “I’ll accept 100,001 clams as apology and recuperation for a faulty wish.”

“A faulty wish…do you wish to take it back?”

“Ugh, I wish for you to make 100,001 clams to appear in my hand!”

“Do you wish to take it back?” The Keeper repeated, only burning her already short fuse faster.

“I WISH you gave me everything I wanted in my first wish so I wouldn’t have this problem!” Her temper was spilling over and her patience wearing thin.

“Poor girl from the desert,” their ominous presence and empty stare bored into her, but she was too ANGRY to heed their words. “Do you wish-”

“Yes, fine WHATEVER!” She snapped, swinging her mace at the ground in frustration. “I wish to take it back! Now 100,001 clams please??!!”

She held out her hand again, expecting a large pouch to magically fall into her palm. A beat passed, and nothing happened. She closed it into a fist and clenched her teeth “What’s taking so long?”

“...it is done.”

“Ummm no? Where are my clams?”

“...ohohohoho.”

“WHAT??!” Sweetheart smacked her mace into them. “What the hell did you do?!” They didn’t even flinch, just unmoving and unbroken in their spot. Their lack of a reaction only incited her rage further. “UGH I’m just wasting my TIME with YOU!!” She stormed off. Since she couldn’t rely on the Keeper she’d have to go with plan b and order the sprout moles to gather her debt for her. She had no doubt they’d do their best to fulfill it, but to do so within the time allotted was what worried her. 

Emerging back into the Great Hall, she was dismayed to not see a sprout mole waiting there for her immediate beck and call. Sighing angrily, she stomped inwards and saw a swarm of them gathered by the fountain. Their chattering echoed off the walls.

“I feel like I just woke up from a very long dream - or maybe a nightmare?”

“I feel like I wasted half my life.”

“Well I’M never making another strawberry cake AGAIN!” 

“Ah-HEM!” Instantly all the sprout moles snapped to attention. Sweetheart towered over them, the frustration pinched on her face. “I’ll excuse your petty complaining for now because there’s more urgent matters that need tending to. 100,001 clams! I need it and I need it now! Ohohohoho ~”

“I’m so sick of that obnoxious laugh!” Castella, her chamber sprout mole spat in disgust.

“And I’m sick of wasting my chefly skills catering to your obnoxious whims!” The sous chef sprout mole stepped forward. 

“And I,” a sprout mole clad in armor and equipped with a sword sprang forward. “HATE you for sending the entire Maximus line to their deaths just to protect someone as obnoxious as you!” Pointing his weapon, he began the charge. “I, the #1 Sir Maximus fan will avenge them! Yaaaaaaaaah!”

SMACK!

And he was easily swung into oblivion by her mace. “Now is NOT the time for grievances,” she yelled. “Bring me 100,001 clams NOW!”

“NO!!!”

The horde of sprout moles defied Sweetheart and began their attack. Angry and befuddled by their disobedience, Sweetheart swung her mace haphazardly and sent them flying. But then a second wave took their place, and a third and a fourth…they weren’t strong creatures but their numbers were starting to overwhelm her. Her escape from Humphrey had already taken a toll on her energy, so this endless stream of FURIOUS sprout moles wasn’t easing her exhaustion one bit.

“What. Is. Happening?!” Sweetheart gasped, slowly retreating.

“We’re taking this castle back!” They encroached closer. “We don’t want you here!” And closer. “GET OUT!”

“Eek!” 

Sweetheart got pushed outside the castle, finding herself thrown into her beloved Rose Garden. “I’m still within the castle property you fools!” But she faintly recalled a way out underneath her most impressive statue. She believed she chucked all her fan mail down there, and something else…but eff it she didn’t have time to think about it! She started her descent when -

“Release the Rare Bears!”

Then she noped the fuck out. Preferring to take her chances with the sprout mole slaughter, she pushed and shoved her way back into the great hall. LIVID sprout moles clung to her, headbutted her and bit her in attempts to stop her escape. She could feel herself getting dragged down, her body succumbing to the weight. “No…I won’t get massacred…by DAMN SPROUT MOLES!” She screamed but felt her knees buckle. This can’t be the end, getting killed by my own minions in my own castle? she thought dismally as her grip loosened and her vision blurred. How…pathetic…

“Releasing the Rare Bears was a bad idea! RUN!”

“Gyaaaahh!” The sprout moles scattered in frenzied panic as rare bears roared inside the castle walls. Sweetheart used that stroke of luck to crawl away and slip into the stage area. Thankfully it was empty, so hooking her mace to her belt, she climbed the ladder to freedom. 

Freedom, from my own castle! she scoffed to herself as she scampered through the underground. Finally breaching the surface she collapsed onto the soft grass of Pyrefly Forest. Every limb in her body was screaming to stay and rest, but she knew the rare bears or the sprout moles could come at any moment. Reluctantly, she staggered back to her feet and stumbled onward. 

“Keeper…” she huffed. “You’ll pay for this.”

Chapter Text

Without conscious thought, Sweetheart found herself in front of the train station. The poor girl from the desert finally returns home, she thought bitterly but knew of no other place to run at the moment. She never visited her grandmothers and now she lost a whole year on top of that. She wondered if her favorite grandma even noticed she didn’t receive a postcard in a year; hopefully she didn’t get the wrong idea. 

Although she was aware going back home wouldn’t net her 100,001 clams, for just tonight she wanted to press her face into a soft pillow and shut out all her problems. 

Wearily, she approached the ticket stand. “One train ticket please,” she said dead-panned, too tired to put on airs.

“That’ll be 50 clams.”

Then reality dawned on her.

Closing her eyes and taking a long breath, she tried again. “50 clams…wow um…how about your very own personal signature from Sweetheart? <3”

“You don’t have 50 clams, do you?”

Sweetheart cried out, truly over today. “Look at me! My hair is a mess, my dress is torn and bloody, I have cuts, bruises and bites all over my body; can’t you show a little sympathy? I just want to go home.”

“Not my problem lady.”

The temptation to throw around her mace was strong, but suddenly some street performers started banging out beats. The idea then popped into her head: she can sing for clams! After all, she was a world-renowned pop star! Turning back to the ticketmaster, she hissed “Fine, you want 50 clams, I can get it easy.” And then she sauntered to the stage.

“Ah-HEM!” Sweetheart cut into the performers’ piece and stood front and center. “I, Sweetheart, shall grace everyone here with the fine sounds of my singing for a measly 50 clams. Ohohohoho-”

“BOOOOO!”

“Bring the beats back!”

“I HATE those obnoxious songs!”

“I didn’t even start singing yet!” she screeched but the jeers were relentless. “Eek!”

SPLASH!

Someone threw a lemonade at her, which began a barrage of miscellaneous items being chucked her way. “Here, have a clam.” Someone tossed one clam to her feet. “Now get the hell out!”

She desperately pocketed it and then dashed off and away from the train station. Collapsing flat on her back and clutching the clam tightly against her chest, she stared up at the stars and space.

She lost her castle, her minions and apparently all the fake love the public had for her. She couldn’t even get back to her grandmas in Orange Oasis, but seeing how things were going, they probably wouldn’t want her back either.

Sweetheart heaved a long sigh, perhaps she bit more than she could chew and should’ve stayed as Sweepheart. But that bed was already made. She couldn’t go back with only one clam to her name - she was sure to be Humphrey food sooner or later. 

The situation seemed utterly hopeless.

“This is all your fault, Keeper.” she muttered. “For tricking me and turning everyone against me.” Saying it out loud made her feel better; that none of this was her fault and everyone would be back to loving her as soon as she reversed the curse. But first she had to take care of her clam conundrum. 

Eyes tired and glazed, Sweetheart watched the stars and constellations drift in the night space sky. “I wonder if...” she mused then groaned loudly as her mind finished the thought. Her castle was a bust, she couldn’t go back home, but beggars couldn’t be choosers after all. “I wonder if he was affected by the curse yet.”

Chapter Text

Hoisting herself up onto the surface of Otherworld, Sweetheart crumpled to the ground a third time that night. “I’m never climbing another ladder again,” she whined, causing some lights from nearby homes to switch on.

As tempting as it was to take a nap right on the street, she picked herself up and made her way to the spaceship. She hesitated before knocking, spotting her dark reflection in the window panel. She grimaced at the bedraggled horrific sight.

Attempting to look more presentable, she smoothed down her stained, shredded dress, finger-combed her pigtails and straightened her bow. But she still looked like a haggard half-dead has-been.

“Ugh!” Sweetheart smacked her face to snap out of it. This is Capt. Spaceboy you’re seeing, she thought. It doesn’t matter if you look like a hobo that smells like blood and lemonade! Exhaling out her humiliation, she knocked on the door. After hearing some shuffling and irritated grumbling, it cracked open.

A blood-shot eyed sleep-deprived space pirate answered the door.

“Oh, hello…there,” Sweetheart began cautiously. “I’m here to-”

SLAM!

“HEY what the hell?!” She started banging on the door. “How DARE you??”

Abruptly the door swung open again. “How dare you show your face here dude? Just crawl back to whatever hole you were in for the past year and leave us alone!” Space Dude tried to shut the door again but Sweetheart wedged her mace in first. 

“Oh Sweetheart, why don’t you just go back into that whale and die there? OhohohohoHO!” Sweetheart mocked and kicked the door open, sending the pirate flying. Barging inside, she looked at all the pirates gathering from the commotion, roused and wary. Raising her mace in defiance, she demanded loudly, “I need to speak to the Captain.”

Almost on cue, his bedroom door squeaked open and very sleepily he stepped out, rubbing his eyes. “Guys, what's going on? I thought we were pulling an all-nighter tomorrow.” And then he noticed her: mace in hand, blood on her dress that probably wasn’t hers, and a murderous look in her eyes. 

His beloved ex-wife.

“Sweetheart?” Capt. Spaceboy choked out, a flood of conflicting emotions assaulting him. A part of him wanted to rush down and sweep her into his arms; another part wanted to sprint back into his room and lock the door.

So he stayed frozen in place, staring down at her and his crew from the top of the staircase. “What are you doing here, and in the middle of the night? And why…is Space Dude unconscious on the floor?”

“Do you really need to ask, bro?” Space Bro shoved a flipper in Sweetheart’s face. “HER. The root of all our problems always leads back to her!”

Space Dude weakly lifted his head. “I think…she’s here to kill us…dude.” Then promptly fell unconscious once more.

After the day I’ve been having, I just might! Sweetheart thought vehemently. “You can’t blame everything on me!” she snapped. “He only fell because he tried to slam the door on me!”

“Because you’re trying to kill us, bro!”

“I’m not here to kill you!”

“Then put the mace down.” Capt. Spaceboy’s voice rang cold and clear, making Sweetheart gasp. “Put the mace down and tell us why you’re here.”

“Um…” Sweetheart was at a loss for words, Capt. Spaceboy never took this tone with her before. It used to be all ‘my sweet jelly-filled donut’ this, and ‘I love youuuu <3’ that…maybe the curse reached him too.

She sighed regrettably - this would make things harder, but with nowhere else to go, she had to give it a shot. Kneeling down, she gently laid her precious weapon down on the floor. “There, happy now?” Looking up to find the pirates unimpressed and Capt. Spaceboy still guarded, Sweetheart felt something uncomfortable and unwelcome tug at her heart. “I really did come to talk. I’m not here to kill anyone, it’s just…been a really long day.”

Capt. Spaceboy stayed quiet, deep in thought. The long silence made her apprehensive and the space pirates worried.

“Capt Spaceboy!” Space Bro cut the tension and whispered, “Don’t forget, bros before ohohos.”

“And…dudes over donuts…” Space Dude muttered.

“Yeah, I won’t forget,” he sighed heavily. “But I should at least hear her out.”

“Yes!” Sweetheart breathed out in relief, unaware just how anxious she was.

“No!” The space pirates sprang forward, blocking her entry. “You don’t owe her anything! Don’t do this Capt Spaceboy!” They desperately begged their friend.

“It’ll be fine.” He forced a smile. “Don’t worry.”

They looked at him, unmoving and unconvinced, but Sweetheart marched through them anyway. “Do anything to my mace and you’ll regret it,” she warned before disappearing into Capt. Spaceboy's room.

He chuckled at her bravado despite being unarmed. “Get Space Dude back to bed,” he told the pirates. “I’ll help in a sec, this shouldn’t take long.” With that, he shut his door on his concerned friends and faced his ex-wife.

“So, why are you here?”

Sweetheart stood with her arms crossed and a pained look on her face. She didn’t know how to go about this - things would’ve been so much easier if he was still a bumbling fool in love with her! “Well, I came here because…” Because I need 100,000 clams! For some reason she just couldn’t come out and say it, some obnoxious feeling held her back. Frustrated, she turned her back to him to see if that would help alleviate the tightness in her chest. “I came here because I need…!” She stopped mid-sentence, gazing curiously at the night stand in front of her. Or more like what lay on top of it. “Is that my mixtape?”

Capt. Spaceboy reddened. “Wh-what? Oh uhm, yeah…”

“Hmm.” She picked it up and examined it curiously. “I’m surprised you kept this.” So maybe the curse wasn’t as powerful as she thought!

“Well, I did throw it out once,” he admitted sheepishly. 

Or maybe not. “Oh.” Sweetheart put it back down. “But you went and got it back!” She pushed, desperately trying to cling onto that thread of hope.

“Um, actually Omori and his friends got it back for me, and only cuz the space pirates asked them too.”

This was getting worse. “Okaaaay but you didn’t throw it out a second time!” One last attempt.

Capt. Spaceboy looked away, awkward and uncomfortable. “Yeah…I guess not.”

“So that must mean some part of you misses me, right?” She perked up.

“Uh!” Capt. Spaceboy seemed flustered and started fidgeting nervously. “Well…”

“Well…?” she pressed, leaning forward and grinning.

“Well, what does it matter how I feel?” He let out a mirthless laugh. “You’ve dumped me twice already - is that why you’re here?” His exposed eye darkened. “To do this to me a third time?”

That wasn’t quite the response Sweetheart was expecting. “Um, no I-”

“I made a promise to my dad to put myself first this time.” His emotions were still fluctuating but his resolve stayed firm. “And I’m going to keep it. I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

As much as she dreaded coming here and as little as she thought of her ex, his words still stung. “So you’re rejecting me…”

“...yeah.”

A very awkward and tense silence followed, both of them frozen to the spot. Sweetheart didn’t know what else she could do or say, and this meant more than clams at this point. The whole exchange and reception just exuded this obnoxious atmosphere of maudlin regret.

She lifted her gaze and took in her ex-husband. She could sense his bouncing emotions from here - he always went from zero to one hundred. But then she noticed it, that hollow emptiness deep in his chest.

“So,” he muttered, head down. “Is that it?”

And she knew just how to fill it. “Actually no.” She approached him slowly, detaching something from her belt. “I…wanted to give this back to you.”

Startled by her closeness, Capt. Spaceboy began to back away. “What are you-”

Quickly, Sweetheart pressed the broken heart - his heart - back  in his chest. “It wasn’t mine to take - or break,” she uttered reluctantly, then took a step back.

He put a hand over his heart, confused yet awestruck. “What did you just do?”

“I already told you!” She felt her face burning up in embarrassment. “I gave you back your heart, okay? So now you can go on your pirate adventures or play video games or hang out with your dad and actually have fun or whatever!”

“...I do feel lighter.” The sadness was beginning to subside inside Capt. Spaceboy. “Wow, I forgot how it felt to have one of these.” He smiled, feeling his heartbeat.

“Ugh, okay I’m outta here.”

“Wait!” He grabbed her arm. “Is that really why you came here? To return my heart and try to win me back?”

“I wasn’t trying to win you back!” she immediately retorted. I wanted your clams! “I…” Ugh. Sweetheart buried her head in her hands. Today really has been a long day. “I came here because…I’m trying to be a better person and make amends! Ohohohohoho ~” She looked smug, pleased with herself.

“Oh, I never thought I’d see the day Sweetheart helps someone other than herself.” His casual bluntness jabbed right through her fib. “So what’s with the blood-”

Sweetheart quickly waved her hands around in frantic dismissal. “Let’s not talk about that, ohohoho.” Feeling very aware yet again of her image, she rushed to leave. “So since that’s all done, I’ll head back to my… c a s t l e.” Her tone dropped significantly when she remembered.

“Uh, are you okay?”

“Actually my castle is so far.” She pulled out a chair and dramatically sank into it. “And I’m so tired climbing all this way.” Truthfully, she was. “So can I stay for just one night?” Since I didn’t get any clams out of this, it's the least you can do!

“Um,” he laughed nervously. “I don’t think my crew would like that.”

“Pleeeeease Captain?” She attempted the helpless damsel in distress approach, but it came off more threatening and creepy.

But if it would work on someone, it would be her ex. “Uhhh, okay.” He gave in. “Just one night.”

YES! She cheered inwardly. Outwardly, she stayed poised and repeated, “Just one night. <3”

Chapter Text

“Ahhhh.” Sweetheart burst out of the bathroom, refreshed and relaxed. As the steam escaped around her, she casually walked to the fridge, her wet hair dripping behind her. “Hmm, anything good to eat?”

Capt. Spaceboy and the pirates looked up from their game to see Sweetheart in a towel raiding their fridge. 

“Uhh-” SMACK! The space pirates quickly slapped their flippers over Capt. Spaceboy’s eyes.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Space Dude screeched. “Who said you can take our food?”

“Yeah bro, and where are your clothes?!”

Sipping on a choccy milk box, Sweetheart sat down with them. “In case you forgot, my dress is currently getting its bloodstains washed off.” She smiled sickeningly sweet. “And am I not allowed one measly milk box while I wait?”

“No bro!” He snatched the choccy milk right out of her hands. “Capt. Spaceboy said he’s only letting you sleepover; not using our washing machine to clean up some poor bro’s blood, not clogging our shower drain with pink hair and definitely not drinking our milk!”

“Sweetheart can do whatever she wants.” Capt. Spaceboy simped dreamily, already back on his bullshit.

“Ohohohoho ~” She crossed her legs and leaned in triumphantly. “My choccy milk?” She held out her hand.

“Urgh.” Space Bro grumbled but complied. “Fine, but you could at least find something to wear.”

“Okay!” She reached over and pulled Space Bro’s bandana right off.

“ACK!” Both flippers instantly flew to his head. “Give it back, I’m bald without it bro!”

She purposefully ignored him and tied it over her own head. “But you told me to clothe myself?” She feigned innocence.

“Stop playing dumb; that’s not what he meant dude!” Space Dude rushed to his aid and defense. “Space Bro, there’s some spares in the closet, don’t worry I got you dude.”

“Thanks bro.”

The two walked off, glaring at Sweetheart as they passed. Space Dude held one flipper up at her, to which she pompously returned the gesture. 

“I think it looks nice,” Capt. Spaceboy said shyly, now able to see without flippers blocking his view.

“Huh?” Sweetheart turned back to him, distracted from the teasing. “Oh, that.” She obnoxiously flipped her hair back, splattering water droplets everywhere. “Well, of course it does, thanks Captain!”

“Hey, watch it!” The other space pirates who were still gaming started wiping the console in fear.

Capt. Spaceboy checked his own controller, then chuckled awkwardly. “Um, if you want we have spare space pirate uniforms you could wear in the meantime.”

Sweetheart’s eyes lit up. That’d be the perfect disguise if I ever need to hide from the slime girls! “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks Captain!”

“Y-yeah, sure.” He blushed. “They’re in the closet, help yourself.”

She happily skipped to the closet, running into Space Bro (who had a new bandana) and Space Dude on the way. Another exchange of gestures occurred before they moved on. 

Sweetheart changed in the bathroom, slicking her hair back into two low pigtails and zipping up her boots. Checking out her new self in the mirror, she liked what she saw: a striped shirt and black pants ensemble replaced her frilly pink dress. And she exchanged her obnoxiously large bow for the subtle orange bandana. Nothing of the old Sweetheart remained in her reflection; those clam-hungry squids or blood-thirsty sprout moles won’t even recognize her! And yet selfishly it made her a bit sad. There’s not enough pink, she lamented, but then it hit her. Excitedly she ran back to the closet and found her belt and mace, quickly fastening it along her hips. Perfect!

Pleased with herself, she marched back down to where the boys were gaming. Slamming her leather boot on the table, they all jumped and looked at her. Happy that all attention was rightfully on her, she declared “You may all now refer to me as Capt. Spaceheart. Ohohohohoho!”

Unamused, Space Dude turned back to the game. “Yeah, no dude. That’s a pirate uniform - you’d be Pirateheart or something.”

“Nahh, ‘Sweetpirate’ bro,” Space Bro chimed in casually, also focused on the game.

Sweetheart held up her mace threateningly. “If I say it’s Capt. Spaceheart, it’s Capt. Spaceheart.” She glared. 

Gestures were exchanged.

“Capt. Spaceheart…” Capt. Spaceboy repeated dumbly, captivated by her new persona. 

“Ohohoho ~” She took a seat next to him. “You like it?”

“Yeah!” he said fervently, but before he could gush any further a pirate playing on the floor smacked his leg. 

“Capt. Spaceboy, we’re losing cuz of you!”

“Oh shit.” He immediately turned his attention back to the game.

Completely ignored and forgotten, Sweetheart deflated. Boredly watching the screen, she sighed and reached into her pocket. A flash of panic struck her when she didn't feel the one clam she owned. But before she could freak out and start interrogating the space pirates for theft, she realized it was still in the pocket of her dress.

Breathing out in relief, her face grew heated for getting so worked up over one clam. Even though no one had noticed, thankfully, Sweetheart hated how pathetic she's become. Truthfully, she knew a disguise wouldn’t actually fool the slime girls. The days were only counting down and she was still 100,000 clams behind.

Standing up, she reluctantly made the decision to leave. Tapping Capt. Spaceboy’s shoulder, she whispered, “Thanks for the uniform, I’ll be back for my dress later. I just have to go for a while.”

He mumbled in acknowledgement but his eyes were still glued to the game. It was only when she opened the front door he realized what was happening. “Wait, what?” He paused and raced over, all the pirates groaning.

“I said I have some things to take care of.”

“Like what?” he asked innocently.

Sweetheart stared at him, weighing her options. What did she have to lose by telling the truth? Her castle was no longer hers, her mole minions wanted to kill her and she only had one clam to her name. Not to mention the very reason she came here to begin with was to squeeze clams out of her ex. 

“Mmh.” She smiled bittersweetly. “A lot has happened this past year - I guess I can tell you.”

Chapter Text

Dropping the last can in the machine, Sweetheart pressed her face against it as it worked its magic. Capt. Spaceboy and the space pirates stepped back, afraid of her reaction.

Ka-ching! 5 CLAMS.

Sweetheart gathered the clams quietly and turned back to the crew. They shuffled uncomfortably as she approached.

“Wow, look at that!” Capt. Spaceboy timidly spoke up. “We made a whole 55 clams from just recycling!” 

“Recycling,” she repeated, dead-panned. “Recycling??” Her voice rose and she started shaking with anger. “That was dumpster diving for 3 hours for a lousy 55 clams!!!” She threw a non-recyclable banana peel at Capt. Spaceboy, and fell to her knees crying. “I need way more clams than that Captain! Wahhhhhh!!!”

Space Dude plucked the peel off Capt. Spaceboy’s cloak and retorted, “It’s not our fault you kept grabbing actual garbage dude.”

“It’s a JUNKYARD!” Sweetheart screamed.

“Yeah, but we were only digging for things like glass bottles and soda cans! Everyone knows banana peels aren’t recyclable, bro!”

“I don’t know what recycling IS!!” she scream-sobbed.

“Alright, alright.” Capt. Spaceboy stepped forward and attempted to console his crybaby ex. “I can admit that recycling isn’t really a ‘get rich quick’ scheme; it’s just the first thing that came to mind.” He chuckled awkwardly. “How about we cut our losses for today and we all get sno-cones?” He held out a hand. “C’mon, my treat.”

She took it, tears in her eyes. “Okay, thanks Captain.”

~ ~ ~

“Why is it so c-cold??” Sweetheart shivered while waiting in line for sno-cones.

“This place is literally called the Frozen Lake, dude.” Space Dude quipped before going to order his cone.

“And a bro never gets cold,” Space Bro boasted, already eating his sno-cone.

“Well excuse me for being raised in the desert-” A sudden warmth blanketed her. She turned to see Capt. Spaceboy had unhooked his cape and wrapped it around her. “Oh?”

“There, is that better, Sweetheart?” he asked, concerned. 

“Uhh.” She froze, at a loss for words. Reddening, she pulled the cape tighter around her and hissed “That’s Capt. Spaceheart to you! Don’t forget!”

He laughed. “Okay, Capt. Spaceheart.” He stepped forward and ordered two sno-cones from Jash. 

“That’ll be 10,000 clams.”

“Yup, here you go.”

Sweetheart watched the transaction in excruciating slo-mo. Capt. Spaceboy reaching into his pocket and handing over 10,000 clams like no big deal. She felt her eye twitch and almost forgot to breathe.

He walked back to her, smiling with two sno-cones in hand. “Here Swee-Capt. Spaceheart. Try it! It’s really good.” Her eyes zeroed in on the admittedly yummy looking cone, then darted back to him. “Um, everything okay?” He squirmed a bit, still holding both cones. 

She breathed in and asked very slowly, “Captain, how much were those sno-cones?”

“Uh, 5,000 each. But don’t worry about paying me back! Especially with your debt and all.”

She took another long inhale. So she might’ve left out a few major details of her debt, but…”5,000 CLAMS?! For sno-cones??!” She exploded, snatching the frozen delight out of his hand. 

She stomped up to the stand, disregarding the line of complaints. “I’d like to return this!” she demanded to an apathetic Jash. “For a full refund, of course.”

“No refunds.”

“Excuse me…?”

“He said no refunds!” A polar bear next in line lost his patience. “But if you don’t want it, I’ll take it!” Before she could react, he swiped her sno-cone and swallowed it whole. “Ahh, delicious.”

She stared at him, closing her now empty fist. “What…have you done??!” she yelled, FURIOUS. Equipping her mace, she went for a swing but the space pirates collectively dragged her back before she could land a hit. 

“No amiga, let’s not make a scene.”

“It might be too late for that, mate.”

Capt. Spaceboy trailed after them with deliberate slowness, the irritation evident in his darkened expression.

“Get off!” Sweetheart broke free after they had dragged her some distance away. “Captain!” she called to him, too consumed by her own rage to notice his feelings. “How could you just throw away clams like that?”

“I didn’t throw them away,” he muttered bitterly. “I bought you a sno-cone with them.”

“Yeah, an incredibly overpriced sno-cone!” she screeched, throwing the ultimate tantrum. “You know I have a debt to pay!”

“I thought your grandmothers wouldn’t mind you enjoying one little sno-cone while you make up the clams for breaking their vase.”

Sweetheart dropped to her knees, defeated and utterly drained. The fury she had dissipated into a morose sense of hopelessness. So she may have fibbed a little about the circumstances of her debt, but… “Collectively, you all spent 40,000 clams on sno-cones…” She laid flat on her back, feeling the chill of the snow seep into her soul. 

“Er, now that she puts it that way pal, a broken vase probably doesn’t cost a lot to fix.” Space Pal grimaced awkwardly.

“Yeah buddy, and we made her go dumpster diving when you kinda had the clams in your pocket Captain.” Space Buddy pointed out in Sweetheart’s defense.

Capt. Spaceboy sighed heavily, reluctantly getting the gist of what his pirates were saying. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. But she did say she wanted to make the money on her own!” Sweetheart said nothing, but not for the reason he was thinking. Backpedaling, he admitted, “I guess I just wanted you to try the sno-cone.” He still had his and it remained untouched, so he offered it to her as an apology. “Here, take mine. And I'll pay for the vase too.”

She didn’t acknowledge the kind gesture; she just continued to stare blankly into the wintry sky and lazy snowfall. That same uncomfortable feeling that made her give him back his heart invaded again. She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes, willing it to go away.

“No bro, she doesn’t deserve it!” Space Bro argued, attempting to grab the sno-cone from his captain. But he waddled too quickly and his flipper smacked it instead, accidentally knocking it to the ground. A mutual gloom fell over them all as they stared at the fallen icy dessert. “...sorry.”

That nagging feeling that assaulted Sweetheart didn’t go away - it only got worse.

“You said…you’ll pay for the vase?” she asked quietly.

“Uh, well,” Looking to his crew for help, some vehemently shook their heads in disapproval, some offered supportive nods and others threw their flippers up in indifference. Then looking back to her, he uttered “Yeah, of course.”

“Dude!”

“Brooooo.”

She smiled mirthlessly. “And what if I told you that vase cost 100,001 clams?”

“WHAT?!” They shrieked in unison.

“What the hell kind of vase was it, mate?!”

Sweetheart sat back up, her chest feeling tight. “It’s more like three vases,” she mumbled, and it got tighter.

“Why the hell does your granny have such valuable vases, amiga?!”

“Because she doesn’t!” she finally snapped, her guilt spilling over. “I didn’t stay with my grandmas last year - I was trapped inside a damn whale sweeping off my debt! And if I don’t get those sea witches 100,001 clams in three months, their whale is going to eat me alive.”

She huffed, exhausted from so much honesty in such a short amount of time. Laying back down, at least that pesky feeling became more of a dull throb than a sharp pain. “And I didn’t give all the sprout moles a year of vacation leave.”

“I knew it bro!” Space Bro exclaimed, but then read the vibe. “I’m just sayin, bro.”

“So…you lied.”

The air grew colder after Capt. Spaceboy spoke. Hearing the hurt in his voice stirred that something in Sweetheart once more. She felt bad. 

“I…!” She wanted to justify herself but the words got stuck in her throat. “Yeah, I did.”

A very tense silence followed, save for the awkward shuffling of the pirates. Finally, Capt. Spaceboy held out his hand. A rush of relief washed over Sweetheart, and she reached out to take it.

Except he moved past her outstretched hand to pull his cape off her shoulders. 

“C’mon guys, let’s go home.”

He started walking away, his crew scampering to keep up. Watching their figures slowly grow smaller, all their backs to her, she felt a chill. Not from the snow, but from the oppressive sense of solitude bearing down on her. She was alone again. Her sprout mole servants chased her out, her grandmothers weren’t looking for her, and now Capt. Spaceboy abandoned her. 

She didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t want to be alone!

“Wait!” She scrambled to her feet and ran after him. “Don’t leave me out here like this!!”

“You’ve done it to him plenty of times, dude!”

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it bro?”

His crew immediately jumped to his defense, and regrettably Sweetheart knew it was true. Swallowing down the guilt, she looked at her ex and begged, “Please? Captain?”

Capt. Spaceboy finally met her desperate pleading eyes, while his own danced with a quiet broken rage. “Why should I?” He didn’t let her answer, instead barking a bitter laugh. “It just occurred to me: if you lied about your debt, you must’ve lied about my heart too, right? Did you even care?” His voice cracked with anguish, exposing the pain he tried to hide behind harsh words. 

She felt her own heart sink. Everything backfired so horribly. “I…didn’t care at first, no. I just needed the clams.”

Space Dude and Bro clucked and shook their heads, resuming their walk back to the ship. The other space pirates stood by their captain, apprehensively awaiting his command.

Capt. Spaceboy stayed rooted in place, trembling ever so slightly. “At first…?” he repeated. “So you’re implying you changed overnight?”

“Well,” Sweetheart hesitated, not really sure how to answer. It has and will always be about the clams until she pays it off, but trampling all over Capt. Spaceboy’s feelings didn't seem appealing anymore. “I-”

“EAAAGH!!! IT’S A RARE BEAR!!!”

The polar bear that stole her sno-cone hurdled past them, hastily followed by a horde of panicked Frozen Lake visitors. The rare bear roared from across the lake, oddly fixated on Sno-cone Jash.

“No way! Sno-cone Jash will not surrender his stand!” Jash declared vehemently, foolishly standing his ground. 

“What is a rare bear doing here dude??”

Space Dude and Bro raced back to the group as they watched the bear approach in horror.

“Frozen Lake is supposed to be safe, bro!”

Sweetheart stepped forward. “It’s probably my fault.” She thought of all those rare bears she had locked underneath her rose garden. After they were freed they must’ve wandered aimlessly, displaced and distressed. Lifting her mace, she grinned. This was the perfect distraction she needed to avoid difficult conversations and let off some steam. “But I can fix it! Just hide behind me: Capt. Spaceheart, and it’ll be over soon. Ohohohoho!”

She dashed ahead, eager to fight the bear head on. Swinging her mace with reckless abandon and laughing maniacally, she only angered the wild creature further. It roared in defiance and slashed at Sweetheart. She jumped back and dodged its claws, smirking as she did. “Remember me?” she teased. “I had you captured, I can surely have you killed! Ohohoho! ~” She whacked the rare bear hard, managing to snag it right in its eye. Now half blind, the rare bear whined in pain and fled.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with you!” she yelled after it, but then something caught her eye on the ground. “Clams!” she gasped. The rare bear must’ve dropped it when it ran. She spun around, excitedly waving the haul high in the air. “You guys, look! 50 clams! Ohoho-”

ZAP!

A laser shot past Sweetheart, just inches from her face. She flinched, shocked and pissed that Capt. Spaceboy would shoot at her. “I know you’re still mad but-”

“ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAR!!!”

She whipped back around to see a sleuth of rare bears racing back through the thickets onto Frozen Lake. The same injured one from before was brazenly leading the pack. The shot from Capt. Spaceboy nabbed its other eye, rendering it completely blind. But still it pressed forward, letting out another deafening roar. The rare bears behind it joined its call; a bone-chilling sound spread across the snowy expanse. 

Capt. Spaceboy ran up to stand next to her; his gun aimed and ready. The space pirates protectively surrounded Sno-cone Jash and any Frozen Lake stragglers, brandishing their shivs in simultaneous fashion. Sweetheart’s eyes flashed with frenzied exhilaration as she swung her mace high, taunting the horde of angry bears. “Back for more? Do your worst, my escaped prisoners. Ohohoho!”

~ ~ ~

“Wow, I feel so ALIVE!” Sweetheart exclaimed, standing atop the slaughter with a victorious flourish. The white snow beneath her boots seeped red, spilling over the frozen lake.

“You’re…kinda scary.” Capt. Spaceboy chuckled, holstering his gun. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, wiping a spot of blood off his cheek. 

He blushed. “O-oh? Thanks, heh…”

“YOU GUYS!!!”

The space pirates rushed over, tripping over themselves to reach their captain.

“That was awesome pal!!”

“Everyone is safe, amigo, including Jash’s stand."

“Her personality sucks but she’d make a great space pirate, dude.”

“Are you two okay, buddy?”

“We’re more than okay!” Sweetheart cheered, holding up multiple heavy pouches. “Look at all the clams they dropped! Maybe I should just hunt rare bears and pay off my debt this way. Ohohoho!”

The momentary thrill from teaming up and taking down enemies with Sweetheart vanished in an instant for Capt. Spaceboy. “That’s right, it’s only about the clams…” He pulled back from her celebration and sullenly turned back the way home without another word.

The space pirates exchanged glances but quickly followed their captain. A few threw apologetic looks to Sweetheart before leaving. 

Sweetheart balked at the receding figures in disbelief. How could he walk away from her again? And after their tag team went so well too? Looking down at all the clams in her hands from their victory, she sucked in a breath. Trying to focus and not act impulsively, she reminded herself what was most important: her debt. It was top priority, she had to take care of that first and then work out everything else after.

But she didn’t wanna now.

Marching up to Sno-cone Jash, she held out the clams. “One sno-cone,” she demanded. Jash took the clams inquisitively, and began counting the bloody currency. Insulted, Sweetheart leaned in and muttered darkly, “Were you watching what I just did to those rare bears to save your stand?”

“Alright alright, sheesh,” Jash complained but produced the sno-cone. “You’re a few hundred short but fine,” he mumbled, handing it over.

“Ohohoho ~” Sweetheart offered her signature laugh in lieu of a thank you and took the cone.

Racing across the bridge, she was desperate to catch up to them before they locked her out. “Captain, wait!”

They stopped, the pirates crossed their flippers in disdain while Capt. Spaceboy feigned apathy. “What now?” he asked, then noticed the sno-cone. “Wait, why do you…?”

“Did you steal that, bro?” Space Bro squawked.

“No!” She glared at them then hmphed haughtily. “I paid for it. With all the clams from the rare bears.”

They gasped. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t see that coming, dude.”

“But, why would you do that?” Capt. Spaceboy questioned, genuinely confused. “Your debt…”

“Yeah yeah, my debt; I have three months to pay it off, so why not? And besides, you didn’t get to eat your sno-cone sooo,” she held it out, suddenly losing all bravado and felt her face heating up. “Take it!”

“You’re giving it to me??”

“You’re giving it to him??” All six space pirates uttered in unison.

“Do you want it or not?” Sweetheart snapped. “It’s melting!”

He accepted the overpriced but delicious dessert. “Wow um, thanks Sweetheart.” His heart was pounding with mixed emotions; why did his ex always do this to him? He struggled with what to say next, and his hesitance sent Sweetheart the wrong message.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to do,” she sighed, but smiled faintly. She was low on clams again but surprisingly she felt good. The heaviness that assaulted her earlier was gone, replaced with this odd feeling of fluffy content. “Enjoy it Captain, you earned it. You shot about a dozen of those bears down.” Knowing herself best, she turned to leave before she might change her mind. “I’ll be seeing you, I guess.”

“Wait!” Capt. Spaceboy stopped her, his ambivalence melting away with the sno-cone. “You earned it too! You may have been gone for a year but you definitely haven’t lost your touch with the mace at all. So, ” He held the cone back out to her. “Wanna…share or something?”

“Oho?” Her face lit up, that content evolving to joy. “Sure! Um, does this mean I can still stay with you too?”

He smiled brightly, mind made up. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Ohohoho! Thanks, Captain! <3”

“Not the Captain getting won over by a sno-cone, bro…”

“Duuude.”

Chapter Text

“Ahhh,” Sweetheart sighed, refreshed from another shower. This time it was the pirate uniform getting cleaned of its blood and garbage residue from yesterday. Pulling her pink dress from the closet, she scrutinized the garment. It seemed like someone attempted to mend the rips it had, albeit somewhat sloppily, but a decent effort. Sweetheart smiled and ‘ohoho’d’ quietly.

“Hey buddy! All done in the bathroom?” Space Buddy walked past with Space Pal. “And is that your dress? Does this mean your space captain days are over?”

“More like ‘day’, pal.”

She spun around, her wet hair smacking the two pirates. “Actually, no.” She pointedly hung her dress back up. “To both. I still need the bathroom to change back into my uniform - it’s in the dryer. And you shall still refer to me as Capt. Spaceheart, as it’s simply easier to kill my enemies while wearing pants.” She grinned devilishly. 

“Sure pal, we were only asking.” The space pirates wiped their faces.

“And your uniform is dry already, buddy! We put it in the basket.”

“Oho?” She misjudged these two penguin pirates and patted their heads appreciatively. “Excellent, my loyal comrades! Keep up the good work, ohohoho!” She sauntered off gleefully while they bashfully nodded.

Sweetheart snatched her clean uniform and rushed back to the bathroom. She was dismayed to find it locked, especially after just informing the pirates she still needed it. “HEY!” She banged on the door. “I need to change! Open up!”

“Huh? Oh, okay,” called out the startled voice of Capt. Spaceboy. “Just a sec.”

“Oh.” She backed off. “If I knew it was you, Captain, I wouldn’t have-”

The door popped open and a sheepish Capt. Spaceboy stepped out. “Sorry, I was just doing my hair…” he trailed off at the sight of Sweetheart in a towel yet again. “Uh, bathroom’s all yours!”

He tried to bum rush past her, but she grabbed his arm in time. “Wait,” She smiled as he averted his gaze. “I just wanted to say, I noticed someone went ahead and repaired my dress.”

“Oh! Yeah uh, that was me.” He noticed she was holding onto the pirate uniform instead though, and got the wrong idea. “I guess I didn’t do a good job of it, huh? Heh…”

“Hm, it wasn’t great.” She bluntly jabbed him with the truth. “But it’s still a lot better than before!” She beamed. “So thanks, Captain! Ohohoho~”

“Uh, yeah!” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the backhanded compliment, but it wasn’t everyday he heard Sweetheart utter thanks. “No problem. I wanted to have it ready for you so you wouldn’t have to wear the uniform anymore, but I guess it didn’t matter?” He chuckled bittersweetly.

“I want to stay Capt. Spaceheart for just a little while longer. <3 Also it made for a good disguise; I don’t think anyone recognized me at Frozen Lake!”

“Why are you in disguise again?”

“So that the sea witches won’t find me.”

“Right…because you owe them money for a vase?”

“No! That was my grandma - that was a fake story!” She huffed and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door. “I have to change!”

“Uh, yeah okay. Oh! That reminds me, I think I know how you can pay off your debt.”

She cracked open the door, raising an eyebrow. “Oho?”

~ ~ ~

“I WANT MY CLAMS BACK!!” Sweetheart screamed, banging on the slot machine in fury.

The place Capt. Spaceboy recommended was the Last Resort Casino. While gambling sounded superb in theory, it certainly didn’t hold true in practice.

Sweetheart seethed, staring daggers into the mechanism that ate all her clams. Capt. Spaceboy and the space pirates backed away warily. “Sorry Sweetheart,” he said hesitantly. “I think my dad comes here a lot, so I thought it might work…”

She whipped around, a crazed look in her eye. “And does he ever win?”

“Um, I don’t know?”

She threw her head back and screamed in aggravated agony, blanketing the crew with second-hand embarrassment.

“It’s not like you had that many clams to begin with, mate.” Space Mate pointed out nonchalantly. 

“I dug through the dump for those,” she hissed and then pulled out her mace, eliciting them to fall back once more. “And I’m not letting some crooked casino steal it from me!”

A rough leathery claw grabbed the mace just in time before she could smash the slot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, missy?” Two gator guys quickly surrounded her. 

“Uh, nothing!” Capt. Spaceboy intervened, trying to talk them down. “We were just leaving.”

But Sweetheart had other plans. “Like hell we are!” she snapped, yanking on her mace, attempting to wrench it free. The gator grip was too strong for her though. “Let go of the mace,” she said through clenched teeth.

“So you can destroy property? I don’t think so.” He yanked back, but her grip was also strong, so he just ended up pulling her a foot forward in an aggressive tug of war. “You and your mace are getting thrown out of here.”

“Wait, hold on, guy.” The other gator guy halted him and resumed speaking to his ear piece. “Uh-huh, yeah. You got it, boss.” He turned back and informed, “The boss wantsa talk to her first.”

“Oh yeah?” YANK. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky me indeed.” YANK. “I’d love to talk to him so I can tell him what a RIP-OFF he is!” YANK. 

“Grr, I’ve had enough of this.” Gator Guy yanked hard and just began dragging her. “Tell the boss we’re on our way.”

“Wait a sec!” Capt. Spaceboy chased after them. “Where are you taking her? I’m going too!”

“Nuh-uh. You weren’t the one causing trouble; just scram, kid.”

Rage flashed in his eye and he impulsively pulled out his gun. 

“Hey kid, what are you-”

ZAP!

Ka-chiiiiiiiiinnnngggg!!!

And shot straight at the slot machine. Clams erupted into the air in chaotic fashion, prompting the space pirates and nearby gamblers to flock to the fountain of wealth.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??!” The gator guy snarled, finally letting go of Sweetheart’s mace. The other guy frantically called for backup.

“Ohohohoho!” Sweetheart lit up with manic delight. “Grab all the clams you can boys; we’re going home rich!”

“Hell no youse not!” Gator guy cracked his knuckles and threw a karate chop her way. 

Too consumed with the infinite stream of clams, Sweetheart didn’t dodge in time. Recoiling from the hit, she gasped, “You-!”

“You’ll pay for that!” Capt. Spaceboy roared, rushing to her side and rapid firing at the gators.

“Dammit!” They drew back in pain. “Where’s the backup?”

“We’re here, brother!” Five more gator guys arrived on the scene, attempting to control the crowd and apprehend the looters.

The space pirates looked up from their pilfering and gauged the situation. “Alright dudes, my pockets are full.”

“Yeah, let’s back up the Captain and bust this popsicle stand, amigos!”

They drew out their shivs in unison and created a protective circle around Sweetheart and Capt. Spaceboy. Slowly they made their way to the exit, Capt. Spaceboy’s lasers and Sweetheart’s swings keeping the gators at bay. The space pirates in turn operated like deadly tonberries, jabbing any guy that managed to get close. 

“Enough of this!” Gator Guy charged at the group with reckless abandon, enduring the stabs, shots and blunt force trauma. Scooping up one of the pirates, he pulled back and held a claw to his throat. “Surrender or the penguin gets it!” he wheezed, blood trickling out of his snout.

“Ack, buddies!” Space Buddy flailed in panic. Capt. Spaceboy and his crew glared at the gator guys, who responded with slimy smirks. The standoff was tense, neither side giving an inch. Space Buddy gulped. “Just take the clams and run! Forget about me,” he squawked, triggering gator guy to press his claw in deeper.

“...tch.” There was a clatter on the floor as Capt. Spaceboy unceremoniously dropped his gun. “I’m not ditching anyone from my crew.”

More clatter sounded as the space pirates followed suit and dropped their shivs and stolen clams. “We wouldn’t choose clams over you, dude.”

“Buddies…sniff.” Space Buddy was touched, but the gator claw didn’t let up, only embedding in his throat further. Breaking skin and drawing blood, Space Buddy choked. “Ack!”

“Hey what the hell?!” Capt. Spaceboy grew FURIOUS. “We surrendered!” 

“ALL of youse gotta surrender.” 

Suddenly Sweetheart felt all eyes on her.

“Ugh, this is enough clams to cover half my debt,” she whined, but her comrades didn’t share her sentiments. The crew’s judging looks paired with Capt. Spaceboy’s deathglare triggered that guilty obnoxious feeling in her again. Taking one last painful look at all the glittering clams scattered at her feet, she childishly chucked her mace down. “You’re lucky you’re the only one I like!” she spat to the captured pirate.

But Space Buddy paid no mind, running to her with tears in his eyes once the gator released his grip. “Thank you Capt. Spaceheart! I know how important that was to you, I’m so sorry!”

“Oho?” She was caught by surprise, unsure what to make of this sobbing penguin clinging to her. But when she saw the stain of red left on her shirt from his blood, an incredible rage overtook her. Throwing one arm around Space Buddy, she pointed at the gator guys with malevolence. “You’ll pay for this!”

“You’ll be the ones paying for all these damages,” he retorted, apprehending the crew. “The boss’ll know what to do with you lot.”

The gator guys pushed and shoved them along, ignoring the slew of complaints, barbs and threats thrown their way. Taking the elevator up, they split the group into pairs to fit; Capt. Spaceboy and Sweetheart being the first. Begrudgingly, Capt. Spaceboy left his crew behind, while Sweetheart couldn’t get there fast enough, eager to have words with this boss of theirs.

“We’re here, boss!” Gator Guy announced jovially, ushering the two off the elevator and into Mr. Jawsum’s office. “I brought with me our two biggest troublemakers; the rest should be on their way.”

“These is the ones busting up my machines?” His sunglasses glinted as he swiveled in his chair to observe them. Sharp teeth spread into a large phony smile along the shark’s jaw.

“Yes sir! And their weapons.” He set the gun, mace, and shivs across Mr. Jawsums desk.

He picked at them curiously. “So these the toys that caused so much damage?” he mocked. Capt. Spaceboy’s eyes narrowed coldly while Sweetheart glared hotly. “Huh. Gator Guy, call up my elite three to escort the rest of these amateur thieves. I want them here.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now go get patched up! You worked hard today, gwahahaha!”

“Thanks boss!” Gator Guy walked off with a pep in his step, leaving behind an anxious Capt. Spaceboy, an irritated Sweetheart and a very entertained Mr. Jawsum.

“So.” Mr. Jawsum cracked his knuckles and folded them atop his desk. “Youse don’t like my machines, is that it?” 

“No we don’t!” Sweetheart seethed. “It’s rigged; I lost EVERYTHING!”

“It’s a casino sweetheart; sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.” Before she could counter, he slammed a fist on the desk, making them both jump. “But what ya don’t do is wreck the place after ya lose. You two accrued a lot of damages that need proper compensation.”

“How are we supposed to pay them if you TOOK ALL OUR MONEY??!”

Silently Jawsum pushed forward two slips of paper, wearing the devil’s grin. “By working, of course. Youse destroyed my machines, youse be the ones to fix ‘em. Youse hurt my guys, youse be the ones taking their place while they recuperate. Youse gonna be my new security recruits; something tells me the two of you are good for it. Gwahahahaha!”

“Um,” Capt. Spaceboy flipped the contract front and back, perplexed. “How much, exactly?”

“Just a measly 1,000,000 clams. So chop chop, sign on the dotted line and get to work! I don’t make offers like this often!”

Sweetheart felt her soul leave her body. How did she get saddled with a new egregious debt while trying to pay off her first recently reduced egregious debt??

“No way, that’s insane!” Capt. Spaceboy rejected, beating her to the punch. “We’d be working here for the rest of our lives!”

Jawsum tsked. “For all that damage, this is getting off easy! I’m being nice here, and I’m not nice often…” 

“The answer is no!” Sweetheart shouted, getting her nerve back. “I’m not touching another broom for the rest of my life! NEVER AGAIN!”

“Who said anything about sweeping…”

The main doors abruptly burst open, followed by a loud commotion. The pirate crew was being escorted by three imposing looking gator guys.

“We got the rest, boss!” spoke up an eager Gator Good.

“They made a big stink about being split up, so we had to take the long way,” Gator Great explained.

“Not that it was any trouble,” came the deep soothing voice of Gator Grand.

“Course not.” Mr. Jawsum eyeballed the space pirates through his shades. Space Dude and Space Bro boldly glared back, while Space Buddy trained his gaze to the floor. The rest wore impressive penguin poker faces. “What a cute little pirate crew you run,” he patronized. “Y’know, I just realized something; you’re Pinkbeard’s boy!” Seeing Capt. Spaceboy’s face flush he let out a hearty laugh. “He’s a regular here - a very loyal customer! Now how would he feel if he found out his son trashed his favorite resort?”

“Terrible, sir!” Gator Good piped up.

“Horrible, boss!” Gator Great offered.

“Utterly devastated.” Gator Grand finished with a serious smoothness, his brothers vigorously nodding their agreement.

“Uh,” Capt. Spaceboy tried to protest. “I don’t think-”

“You’re absolutely right, gator guys.” But Jawsum was quick to talk over him. “I like that word you used: devastated. He’d be devastated…” As he went on, the gator guys began pushing Capt. Spaceboy and Sweetheart closer to him. Closer to the contracts. “So! Without further ado,” Shedding his disappointed expression effortlessly, he flashed those sharp teeth in a sly smirk. “Just sign right here and your pops’ll stay proud.”

Capt. Spaceboy hesitated, staring at the contract apprehensively. But he relented, taking the pen from Jawsum’s outstretched hand and leaned down. “I guess I was the one who broke your machine,” Capt. Spaceboy mumbled. “I get angry pretty easily - that happens to me a lot, sorry.”

“No dude, don’t do it!”

“Yeah amigo, what about our adventures?”

“Agh this is all my fault buddy! Don’t sign your life away because of me!”

SMACK!

Before ink could bleed onto paper, Sweetheart slapped the pen out of his grasp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing??” Her flabbergasted rage met his pressured guilt. “You promised to help me with my debt! You can’t very well do that if you’re stuck here paying off your own!! You promised!” Although Capt. Spaceboy couldn’t recall promising anything like that, he hated seeing her upset. “And I already said NO. I am NOT picking up another broom again, and you - well you’re a space pirate captain! Your next adventure isn’t playing bouncer at a dead end casino for the rest of your life.”

Capt. Spaceboy absorbed her words and took in her vehement, almost desperate countenance. Looking back at the contract with the taunting blank line, he stepped back. “Right, what was I thinking…?” Anger and humiliation overwhelmed him. “I can’t believe I almost fell for that; no deal Jawsum!”

“Grr,” Jawsum glowered. “You’ll regret that…” The three gator guys swarmed to his side and started snapping their jaws threateningly. The pirate penguins held up their flippers in response, not about to be intimidated. “Youse gonna regret that a lot…!”

Suddenly an extremely disturbing and oppressive energy blasted through the room like a shockwave. A choking sense of fear engulfed Sweetheart, but only for a moment. Any bravado Jawsum had was zapped in a second, sucking the life from him and deflating him down into his chair. 

And then it was gone.

“Sir no!” The gators fussed over their beloved boss. Sweetheart glanced around apprehensively, it seemed like she and Jawsum were the only two to feel it. Whatever it was.

“Who am I kiddin'?” He tossed aside the contracts in defeat. “I haven’t gotten a signature in months. I’m losing more money than I’m making, I thought this woulda been my big break! My epic comeback! My business’s salvation…” The fervor was lost yet again and he dropped his head in his hands. “But I’m ruined.”

“Don’t say that boss!” Gator Good responded quickly.

“We’ll get more contracts signed on the double!” Gator Great lied in good nature.

“So don’t worry about a thing, boss.” Gator Grand murmured. “We’ll take care of it.”

Jawsum let out a haggard sigh. Looking at each of his best guys, a tear slipped past his sunglasses. “What would I do without my guys? Sniff…c’mon! Finances be damned, let’s have a pizza party!”

“YEAH!!!”

Space Buddy sniffed, moved by the wholesome display. “I’m so happy for you buddies. They’re not so different from us, right Captain? …huh?”

“Space Buddy WTF are you doing bro??”

“We’re busting this popsicle stand, dude! Let’s go!”

Space Buddy along with Jawsum and the gators all snapped to attention. Having pilfered back their weapons unnoticed, the crew and their captains were making an escape.

“HEY!” Jawsum barked while Space Buddy flailed in alarm, hastily snatching his shiv off the table. But while doing so he knocked a picture frame off Jawsum’s desk, shattering it to the floor.

CRASH!

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??” Jawsum bellowed, making the poor penguin shrink in guilt and terror.

“Just run, pal!”

Space Buddy ran for his life, sheer panic on his face with three vicious gators snapping at his back. “I’m not gonna make it buddies!!!”

“Argh!!” Sweetheart spun around in an impatient rage. “I’m not going through this again! DUCK!” Space Buddy dove for it and Sweetheart swung her mace. It connected rather satisfyingly as their snouts got pummeled back. Capt. Spaceboy stopped as well to back her up and usher Space Buddy along. Giving him the time he needed, he managed to scramble past and rejoin the protective huddle with his buddies.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

All three gators stood down at the commanding call of their superior. Sweetheart and Capt. Spaceboy also ceased fire, grinning in triumph. The space pirates seized the opportunity to dash off, told by their captain to ready the getaway ship while he and Sweetheart hold them back.

Gator Good growled at their smugness but Gator Grand subtly shook his head. Gator Great stayed quiet, yet kept his eyes on them.

“Youse hurt my guys, youse destroy my casino and now youse tear apart my office,” he continued, a heavy sigh escaping his jaws. “We haven’t had a bruising like that for a while, have we?” He sounded defeated, however his shades shined with nostalgia. “Not since he left.” 

“Boss!” Gator Good started, but Grand put a claw on his shoulder. The three gators then trained their gazes to the ground in respect.

“Uhhh, now this feels awkward,” Capt. Spaceboy whispered nervously.

But Sweetheart was never one for tact, or she just didn’t care, so she obnoxiously cleared her throat. “Since we’ve established that we have the upper hand, I’d like my clams back now.”

“Still talking about your clams?!” Gator Great bit in annoyance. “Can’t you see the boss is in mourning?”

Jawsum held up a hand. “It’s fine, Great. But I appreciate you - I appreciate all of you. You’ve done well today.” They said nothing, embittered by his surrender but respecting his authority. “More employees wouldn't save this place anyway. And besides, this one?” He shoved a finger in Sweetheart’s direction, who scrunched her face in response. “This one would run my business to the ground faster than bankruptcy.”

“Ohohoho. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The gators groaned and Jawsum clucked in displeasure. Glancing at the broken picture again, he sighed. “The only one who can get me out of this mess would be him. My best employee.”

CLACK! Another piece of the frame broke off right into Jawsum’s hand. An uncomfortable silence followed.

“Uh, want us to get you another frame for that?” Gator Good asked.

“Or better yet, why don’t we get a brand new painting for you?” Gator Great proposed.

“No, that crooked painter squeezed clams from the boss for the paintings he did, instead of signing the contracts as he should have,” came the wise rumble of Gator Grand.

“Umm,” Capt. Spaceboy interjected awkwardly. “Isn’t that just how jobs work?”

Sweetheart flipped a pigtail impatiently. “Where are those damn penguins,” she muttered. “Clearly I’m not getting my clams back…” She glared.

“You know what; let’s do it.” Jawsum pointedly ignored her. “Organize one group of guys to bring my best employee back to me. Organize another group of guys to get that painter back here. And we will get him to sign this time.”

 “Yes sir!” His elite three saluted in tandem.

“Um, hello, my clams?” Sweetheart huffed while Capt. Spaceboy anxiously looked at his watch.

All three ignoring her, Gator Grand doled out the responsibilities. “Good, organize the group for Hero. Great, organize the group for Rococo. And I’ll-”

“Wait, Hero?” Capt. Spaceboy interrupted, officially interested.

“And Rococo?” Sweetheart said even more surprised. They all stared at each other, sharing looks of disbelief.

“Youse two know them?” Jawsum leaned forward, intrigued.

“How do youse know them?” Sweetheart countered, haughtily throwing his slang back at him. “I-”

CRASH!

“Sorry we’re late, dude!”

“Couldn’t find the ship keys, bro!”

Capt. Spaceboy’s spaceship crash landed right in Jawsum’s office, smoking and sputtering. 

Despite the obvious safety hazards, Capt. Spaceboy jumped on board. “Sweetheart, c’mon!” He held out his hand to her. 

Jawsum was irate and threw a fit at yet more damage the crew caused to his resort, the gators gnashing their teeth in agreement. Forget the contracts and everlasting servitude, they just wanted these troublemakers GONE. 

Although Sweetheart really wanted to stay and squeeze more information out of them (and beat the clams out of them), another idea popped in her head. Grabbing Capt. Spaceboy’s hand and hopping inside, the space pirates took off. 

Chapter Text

The Space Pirate crew successfully escaped the crooked casino and evaded employment, albeit with a haul of zero clams. But that didn’t deter the penguin pirates one bit; the ship was buzzing with excitement and strategies to strike back. There were some tears when Space Buddy blamed himself for the loss of loot, but a group hug and the promise of a shiny new shiv cheered him right up.

Capt. Spaceboy set the ship to autopilot and joined the embrace at their eager calls. Much to some of the pirates' dismay, he in turn called out to Sweetheart to join in too.

But Sweetheart’s mind was racing with too many thoughts and memories to hear him. Looking through the ship’s window panel, she watched the Underwater Highway shrink from view until they broke the surface entirely. So Rococo’s alive, she mused. A name - a person - she hadn’t thought of in years. Still processing the information, she didn’t know how to feel. Her chest panged obnoxiously. She clutched it, hoping it would stop.

Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder and she yelped, jumping out of her seat. One hand instinctively flew to the mace on her belt, causing a very flustered Capt. Spaceboy to fall back.

“Whoa!” He threw his hands up sheepishly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted you to get in on the group hug. Um, what were you thinking about, Sweetheart?”

She balked, embarrassed that she was so consumed with her thoughts he took her by surprise. But recovering quickly, she put on a front and smoothed down her clothes. “Hmph, you didn’t scare me - in fact you should be scared of me. Ohohohoho!”

“Oh, I was,” Capt. Spaceboy chuckled awkwardly. They had their unfair share of fights in the past, and her immediate reaction to reach for her mace reminded him of those toxic times. But looking at her now, decked out in space pirate gear and laughing like one of the crew, he hoped his fear would stay back in their past. “But not anymore.” He beamed positively, more so for his own benefit.

Sweetheart appraised him curiously. “Hm, just don’t end up on the other end of my mace and you won’t be,” she threatened sweetly.

Capt. Spaceboy knew she meant it as a joke - or at least he hoped so - but he felt a tiny part of his heart crack. He chose to laugh it off, pushing the doubts away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Heh heh…”

“Capt. Spaceheart!!” Space Buddy got tired of waiting and brought the hug to her. “I just wanted to apologize again, buddy.” He sniffled in her embrace.

“Oh my sweet and loyal min - comrade,” she purred, patting his head affectionately. “It’s alright, cuz you’re gonna make it up to me, right?”

“Um, of course, buddy!” 

“Ohohoho ~ of course you are!” She cheered. “And I’ll return the favor by obliterating the scum that harmed you, demolishing their shitty resort and taking all their clams,” she said with a smile. 

“Hurrah! Finally something we can agree on, dude.”

Space Dude and Space Bro approached, along with the rest of the space pirates.

“So bro, when do we begin the counterattack?”

Capt. Spaceboy hated being the responsible one in the group, but as their captain he had to break the news. “Well, we can’t really go in guns and shivs and mace blazing. That uh, didn’t really work the first time.” Capt. Spaceboy noticed Space Buddy glance down despondently, so he hastily got to the point. “We need time to prepare and come up with a real strategy. That way no one will get hurt, except them.” A dark fury swirled in his exposed eye, anyone who hurt one of his own would receive the same tenfold. The crew loved having a Captain who cared so much about them, but there still remained one exception to his retribution.

“Oho? Captain, I think you’re forgetting one major detail.” Sweetheart butted into his speech, a quiet rage simmering beneath her surface as well. “ME.” At her ex’s blank stare and the pirates’ tired expressions, she sighed in vexation. “Must I spell everything out? I don’t have time. I have what, two months left before I’m whale food? Captain I only have one clam to my name and I need 100,000 more!” Her argument ended up more like another tantrum that needed babying. 

The pirates instantly stepped back and let their captain handle it. Capt. Spaceboy grimaced, understanding the weight of her situation and the anxiety that came with it, but at a loss for a resolution. Recycling was a bust, gambling was too, and there weren't enough rare bears to beat up in the short amount of time they had. He didn’t know what to tell her, but he hated disappointing his ex, especially when she whined like this. Just when he was about to cave in and agree to a rash counterattack, a thought occurred to him. “Wait, didn’t Jawsum mention a painter that worked for him?” Sweetheart stiffened, but he didn’t notice and continued. “But he ended up paying the painter, not the other way around. Right? I mean, that’s how it's supposed to be, but yeah. You know him, right? What was his name? Uhh Rocco? Rocky?”

“Rococo,” she said quietly. 

Her sudden mood swing took Capt. Spaceboy by surprise, but he kept going. “Uh, yeah! So uh, maybe we should ask your friend for help?” he suggested innocently.

“Mmh.” Sweetheart slumped, leaning on the window panel dejectedly. Just the mere mention of his name sent spikes of discomfort to her soul. But shrugging it off, she absorbed her ex’s words and twisted them into a more favorable, less accountable way that could benefit her. Sweetheart perked up as her mind spun with schemes. “Oho…actually Captain, that’s not such a bad idea. Ohohohoho!” Her dismal demeanor brightened to a manic, almost forced cockiness. “I’ve just come up with the perfect solution! Now listen up, crew!” She struck a dramatic pose and pointed in a random direction. “The plan is…!” But for some reason the words got stuck in her throat. Capt. Spaceboy and the pirates stared in a mixture of impatience, expectancy and confusion. Space Mate left altogether to steer the ship manually. “IS…!” The plan was perfect, simple really. Why was she struggling so much to say it?

“Um, Sweetheart?” Capt. Spaceboy ventured, never getting used to her mood swings.

“That’s Capt. Spaceheart to you!” She snapped, masking her ambivalence with attitude. Taking a second to compose herself, she just blurted it out. “The plan is to mug my ex of all the clams he made off Jawsum!”

Sweetheart managed to finally screech it out. It tumbled out of her mouth like word vomit; she felt sick with instant regret while the pirates scowled with obvious disdain.

“You - you wanna mug the Captain, dude???”

“And you thought we’d help, bro??”

“No??” Sweetheart spat, her face scrunching up at their stupidity. Very briefly, she realized she never considered trying that, but she quickly discarded the thought. “I’m talking about my other ex. My first love: Rococo!”

Capt. Spaceboy blinked. “Your first love…is the painter Jawsum was talking about?”

“And you wanna mug him, buddy??” Space Buddy flailed in distress while Space Dude and Bro laughed bitterly. 

“Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, bro.” 

“At least she’s not gonna mug the Captain, dude. Maybe.”

Sweetheart crossed her arms and bit her tongue. The crew can say whatever they want - it was just Capt. Spaceboy’s opinion that mattered. “Yes,” she sighed, answering him. “I guess Rococo managed to escape my dungeon during the Sprout Mole Revolution.” Met with horrified stares, she begrudgingly elaborated. “I threw him down there when I got sick of him. A long long time ago. I didn’t even think he was still alive…” she trailed off, caught in disgustingly maudlin memories. But she shook it off and resumed her pitch. Forcefully so. “But he is alive, and apparently he’s loaded! So as Captain Spaceheart, I command our next space pirate raid to be my unsuspecting ex-fiance! Ohohohoho!”

Silence blanketed the ship as she was met with harsh glares. Capt. Spaceboy was still processing the news of her ‘first love’ before he could tackle her plan to mug him of his clams. His crew however, spoke up in his stead. 

“You really think we’d help you mug a dude who’s been dying in your dungeon for the past…” Space Dude paused, trying to guesstimate the years of eternal imprisonment when Space Bro finished his thought.

“Forever, bro?! No way!” The other space pirates solemnly agreed, even Space Buddy took their side, glancing at Sweetheart apologetically.

Sweetheart stomped her foot in response. “You were all gung-ho to blast off and tear down that casino a few minutes ago! How is this any different? Don’t grow a conscience on me now!” She huffed, ignoring their arguments and whipped her head to her most recent ex. “Captain, command your - our - crew to obey!” 

Capt. Spaceboy has grown tired of this back and forth, this up and down with her. Just a constant ‘I hate you, I love you’ with his ex. Why, why was she like this?

And why did he have to fall for it every time?

“Okay.” His crew doubled over in shock while Sweetheart smirked in triumph. But before they could protest or she could gloat, he raised his voice. “We’ll help you find your ex - your first love. But we’re not mugging him.”

The pirates collectively breathed a sigh of relief while Sweetheart sulked. “But why? You promised-”

“Stop whining!” he snapped, his mood swings in full effect. “I wasn’t finished.” Sweetheart pouted but kept her mouth shut. “I’ll keep my promise, but only if you promise not to choose violence. We’re not mugging him for his clams. Maybe ask for forgiveness, like you did with me.”

“More like beg for mercy, pal.” Space Pal said under his breath.

“Mercy? Forgiveness?” Sweetheart repeated, aghast. The thought of attempting to recruit Rococo as an ally like she did with Capt. Spaceboy made her skin crawl. The resentment Rococo must have harbored after all these years ran deeper than the spats she and Capt. Spaceboy had. “No, I won’t.” Not that these spats were much better.

“There’s just no compromising with you,” Capt. Spaceboy growled darkly. As they were approaching Otherworld, Space Amigo ran to the controls to help Space Mate land the ship. With a flourish of his cape, Capt. Spaceboy marched to the exit. Once they hit ground, he swung open the door. “Get out.” 

Misunderstanding, Sweetheart stepped forward haughtily. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“For good, Sweetheart.” 

She stopped in her tracks, but didn’t turn around. Blocking the exit, she prevented any means for the crew to escape their fight. So they stood in tense silence as their Captain continued.

“I’m not on board with torturing your already tortured ex.” He chuckled without humor. “In fact, it could’ve been me. How close were you to throwing me in the dungeon, Sweetheart?”

“More times than you’d like to know,” she muttered, matching his dark bitter energy out of petty spite. But yet again, that pesky obnoxious tug at her chest throbbed like a mace to her heart. She, too, was tired of this. She was tired of Capt. Spaceboy constantly hanging his hospitality over her head. But was he really out of line, or was it something else? Or someone else?

“Yeah, I figured. Then go. Get your things and leave.”

“No!” Sweetheart stubbornly sat down right where she was standing. “I’m so sick of this!” She voiced her nagging thoughts, hugging her knees and staring hard at the Otherworld space.

“You’re sick of this?” His bitter chuckle warped into a barked laugh. “Try falling for your toxic ex way too many times!”

Sweetheart sucked in a breath and looked back at him. “You’re…falling for me again?”

The pirates held in their groans while Capt. Spaceboy inwardly cursed himself. “Don’t change the subject!” His feeble attempt did nothing to sway Sweetheart’s newfound knowledge. But he pushed his blunder aside and stuck to his guns. “You’re always doing that - making everything about yourself. I’m so tired of it! I’m-”

“Did you forget about your sno-cone, Captain?” Sweetheart interrupted, done with always being on the receiving end of a jabbed finger. “Or was that about myself, too?”

“One sno-cone doesn’t absolve you of everything!”

“But it counted for something, right?? I impulsively used all those clams for you-”

“Oh, here we go! The clams again.”

“Yes, the clams again.” Sweetheart twisted her grip on her mace, impatient irritation spilling over. “That’s why buying that sno-cone was such a big deal for me! I did something nice for you when I literally couldn’t afford to!”

“So am I selfish for liking that Sweetheart better? Doing something nice for once? I’m not asking for a lot, just basic decency! Just do the right thing - you proved that you’re capable so why not again?” Capt. Spaceboy’s temper fizzled out, emotionally exhausted. He hated that he still loved her, which was why he didn’t want to give up on her. “Like you did for me.” His hand clutched his heart, which was a manic mess of a heartbeat right now. A mess he was thankful to feel again. “When you gave me back my heart. Or do you wish you had mugged me instead?”

Her face contorted into a twisted mixture of rage and regret. “What do you think?” It felt like no matter how hard she tried, the world only saw the worst in her. And as her ex and his friends stared back in cruel judgment, she couldn’t blame them. She couldn’t sway them to her side, and faking it wasn’t working out. Breaking under pressure, Sweetheart’s bottled emotions burst out. “Maybe it’s because mugging him is the easier option! Maybe because it’s too hard for me not to think about coming face to face with my ex-fiance after all these years! I locked him up, threw away the key and completely forgot about his existence until now! What you’re asking of me is…! Is…!” She crumpled at the thought. The thought of saying words she hardly ever said, especially in such a context. “What if he doesn’t forgive me??” she cried out, finally exposing her utter fear of rejection. That stabbing at her chest felt like ice picks, chipping away at her heart.

Sweetheart.

Was she truly deserving of that name? She never questioned it and didn’t want to ponder it now, but it hurt. And that annoyed her. So much so that she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She glanced at Capt. Spaceboy, who in turn winced at her uncharacteristic insecure expression. He was used to her crybaby antics, but this wasn’t one of them. This was real, unbridled fear. His crew reflexively took a step back, disturbed by seeing her broken state and realizing they’d rather take her bloodthirsty.

“He won’t forgive me,” Sweetheart mumbled, answering herself. She gingerly set her mace down, turning her back on them once again.

Capt. Spaceboy approached her carefully, unaccustomed to this sad side of Sweetheart. She wasn’t sulking, she was shaking. Softly, he knelt down next to her. “You don’t know that. I forgave you. Again.” He chuckled, a real one this time. “You won’t know until you try.”

“Until I try,” she repeated hollowly. Slowly, lifting her head, she met his eyes. “Like I did with you? You and Rococo are very different, Captain.”

Normally, that would sound like a challenge, just another way to provoke him and get under his skin. Like how she used to. Oh, Sweetheart loved making him jealous. She thrived off it, making his life hell and laughing as he went mad.

But this was different. Truly. Capt. Spaceboy could separate scorn from sorrow; Sweetheart’s statement was made in earnest. “Still, I think it’s worth a try. It’s better than the alternative.”

Sweetheart soaked in his blind faith and breathed out a tortured sigh. How typical of him. Berating her belligerently one second and encouraging her the next. Hopeless and hopeful at the same time. That something in her heart stirred, and she made her choice. 

“It really would be easier to just mug him,” she mused, shedding her miserable stature. “But fine. I’ll do it your way.” She pretended to pout, the sharpness in her chest alleviating. “But I’m not doing this for you! I’m doing this for myself,” she huffed, trying to mask her moment of vulnerability.

Capt. Spaceboy smiled. “Glad to hear it.” Standing up, he once again held out a hand to her. “So let’s go track him down.”

Sweetheart took in her ex, giving her the millionth chance and smiling like a fool. Her fingers uncurled around her mace and took his hand instead. Mustering up a smile to match his, she tried to stay optimistic about this ordeal. “Let’s.”

~ ~ ~

Despite some of the Space Pirates grumbling about their Captain pandering to his ex yet again, they eagerly joined him in the hunt. More space pirate adventures was a plus, even if it did revolve around Sweetheart. So Capt. Spaceboy and his crew helped her with the search, taking down rare bears as they went and picking up clams along the way.

Traversing out of Otherworld, they inquired around and gathered intel. With one lead bringing them beneath the windy trees in Pinwheel Forest.

“KITE KID!” Sweetheart shouted at the top of her lungs, her eyes scanning through the thickets. 

“I highly doubt he’s just going to appear at your call.” Capt. Spaceboy caught up to her.

“More like he’d run in the opposite direction, bro.”

“Run fast and never look back, dude.”

Sweetheart was ready to throw gestures, but Space Buddy offered words of encouragement. “Um, if I was kite flying I’d go somewhere high.” He nodded upward, where a conspicuous ladder led to higher ground. “Buddy.”

Sweetheart reined in her rage and smiled sweetly at the one pirate she liked. Patting his head gratefully, she thanked the bashful penguin. Looking at the cliffside, she regained her adrenaline. “Well, what are we waiting for, boys? Let’s find my elusive ex and collect some clams as we do! Ohohoho!”

During their escapades, the lead they attained was a rumor that a kid flying a kite had a wealth of knowledge. Including where all beings reside. It seemed like a stretch, but this was a wild goose chase to begin with. Taking what they could get, Sweetheart led the charge. Scaling the ladder with gusto, she was delighted to find who she was looking for.

Kite Kid was exactly where Space Buddy guessed: he was peacefully flying his kite up high, right on the edge of the cliff. He was aware but unbothered by Sweetheart’s chaotic intrusion.

“HEY YOU!” she shouted from across the expanse. Capt. Spaceboy and the crew hurried up the ladder after her, unable to do anything to curb her carelessness. “I need to find Rococo! Where is he?” Sweetheart was blunt and demanding, eliciting groans from behind at her lack of tact. 

But Kite Kid hardly reacted. He merely glanced at her and mumbled, “Wanna fight?”

“What?” Sweetheart stalked closer. Her fingers danced around the handle of her mace. “I think I misheard you.”

“Wanna fight?”

“Oho? So it is a fight you want.” Her eyes glittered. After all this exhaustive verbal fighting, a classic beat ‘em up was just what she needed. Hoisting high her trusty weapon, she yelled out a battle cry and charged at the kid. “Ohohohoho-ah!”

She was anticipating a satisfying smack from her mace to connect on her target, but Kite Kid merely side-stepped. Swinging her mace with abandon and storming the kid with reckless thrill, she barreled right off the cliff.

“KYAAAAAAAHHHHH!!”

“SWEETHEART!!”

Capt. Spaceboy ran after her, pushing past Kite Kid and diving off the edge with no hesitation.

“Captain no!” The Space Pirates scrambled to the edge, anxiously watching them fall.

“Sweetheart!” Capt. Spaceboy was free-falling to his death, but his only concern was her. “Grab my hand!”

Sweetheart jammed her mace into the side of the cliff, slowing her fall. “Urgh.” She stuck her boot into the rocky earth, skidding along. Only then she looked up at her ex. “You idiot!” she screeched. But with great effort, she stretched her other arm out and managed to grab his hand. Holding each other close, Sweetheart tried to wedge her mace further into the cliff to catch. But unlike a sharp sword, its bluntness didn’t help much, and her aggression only backfired. Coming loose with the crumbling rocks, they found themselves at mercy to the open air.

“Gyahhh!”

Clutching each other for dear life, they hit the grass below hard. Tumbling down the slope, they crashed through the tall thickets in Pinwheel Forest. Sprawling apart across the field, they collapsed in a pathetic heap.

“You…idiot!” Sweetheart repeated stubbornly, out of breath and flat on her back. Staring up at the night space sky peeking beyond the canopy of trees, she recognized this feeling. The night that the drifting stars and constellations gave her the idea to seek out Capt. Spaceboy. Or more specifically, his clams. Turning her head and watching him struggle over to her side, she could admit that she didn’t feel the same since then. Receiving his help rather than a hand-out, surprisingly she didn’t mind the way things turned out. Dare she feel grateful, even. So eating her words, she lightened her tone. “You dumb, stupid selfless idiot. Thanks for trying to fight gravity for me.” She chuckled softly when he slumped down next to her. “I would’ve been TOAST if you didn’t cushion my fall.”

“And I wouldn’t be half-dead if you hadn’t charged off a mountain,” he wheezed, but not out of anger.

“And I wouldn’t have charged off the mountain if that kite flying brat hadn’t lied to me!” Sweetheart complained. Unwilling to continue the conversation, she rolled over and nestled close to him.

Capt. Spaceboy grew still, reddening. “Uh, Sweetheart? What are you doing?”

“Listening to your heartbeat.” She pressed her head to his chest. It calmed her. Rested her weary body, her stressed mind and guilty heart. In a way, she was glad the plan to get the kid to talk went awry. Sweetheart still wasn’t sure if she was ready to face Rococo. That kid probably didn’t even know where he was to begin with; chasing rumors and questionable leads was a waste of time. Time she really didn’t have to spare, yet she still wanted to put it off. Shutting her eyes, she relished procrastination for just a bit longer. “Let’s wait here,” she mumbled. “The Space Pirates will find us, and bring the ship.”

“Um, okay. Yeah.” Capt. Spaceboy’s fluster faded, and gradually he relaxed. “The crew should be here any second. And who knows? Maybe they got that kid to talk.” But Sweetheart didn’t reply, and he realized she fell asleep. Gingerly wrapping an arm around her, he also let exhaustion claw his eyes shut. “Yeah. Everything will be fine…”

Chapter Text

“Hey!”

SMACK!

“Wake up, dude!”

PENGUIN SLAP!

“Wake up!!”

SPLASH!

“Gah!” Capt. Spaceboy sprang up, rousing Sweetheart in the process. She grumbled while he wiped his face free of water and penguin flipper imprints. “Wha…? What’s going on?”

“We thought you were dead, bro.” Space Bro was holding a half-empty water bottle while Space Dude lowered his flipper in relief. 

“C’mon dudes, let’s go home.”

Just as they hoped, their crew found them at the base of the cliff and came to their rescue. Reluctantly staggering to her feet with Capt. Spaceboy’s help, Sweetheart trudged back to the ship. Flying back to Otherworld.

With barely any progress made.

“I can’t believe I fell off a mountain and have nothing to show for it,” she whined when they landed.

“I think you have the bruises, dude.”

Despite her fatigue and despite the rescue, Sweetheart whipped around and exchanged gestures with no hesitation. Capt. Spaceboy got in between them to diffuse the tension. “Well, a few fries and orange joes should make you feel better in no time!” He chuckled awkwardly. “I could definitely use some myself.”

She couldn’t help but light up at the prospect of delicious food. So, taking his hand and waltzing out of the ship, Sweetheart was once again invited inside. Basically her second home.

The Space Pirates shared a conspicuous glance, pointedly staying by the entrance. Awkwardly shuffling around, Space Mate stepped up. “Hey Captain, mate. We’ll catch up later. There’s something us mates have to take care of.”

Without waiting for an answer, they scurried off. Capt. Spaceboy was a bit perturbed, but it didn’t stop Sweetheart from marching in and making herself at home.

“Great! More food for us, then.” She immediately started microwaving leftover fries and grabbed two orange joes from the fridge. “Captain?”

“Wonder what that was about,” he mumbled, still distracted. But his brain ached enough from the fall. Trying to make sense of his crew’s abnormal behavior was quickly pushed away at the vision of cold juice and junk food. “Thanks, Sweetheart. Even though this is all mine, technically. Heh.”

“Why don’t you just keep reminding me?”

He winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. We’ll find Rococo, and we’ll get those clams.”

“Haaaagh.”

It seemed like no matter what Capt. Spaceboy said, it was bringing Sweetheart down. So he decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. “How about when this is all over, we go on a real space pirate adventure?” Going with hopeless positivity.

Sweetheart managed to smile. “That’d be nice. Smacking around rare bears and bunnies without a reason to.” She gazed off wistfully as she nibbled her fries.

Capt. Spaceboy chuckled. “Heh, you gotta think bigger than that, Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart paused. She was aware that her ex had quite the mean streak in him when he wanted to. Such as capturing all the planets in the solar system to keep in his bedroom, simply because he fancied them. She thought back on that and smiled fondly at the memories. “Bigger? Is the size of a dwarf planet big enough?” she teased.

He laughed. Pluto’s escape still bothered him, and the idea of taking him back with Sweetheart by his side cheered him up. “That sounds like a plan.” But then he gasped, an even better idea striking him. “But no, not yet. Think even bigger than that, Sweetheart.” His exposed eye sparkled with a mischievous glint. “Something the size of a whale.”

Sweetheart blinked, a bit slow on the uptake given her low health. But her tired face morphed to match Capt. Spaceboy’s scheming one. Her smile stretched to a sly grin as her eyes darkened with cunning. “Oho…ohohohoho…” she laughed quietly, very pleased with the imagery running through her head. Her shoulders shook as the laughs grew louder. “Ohohoho…OHOHOHOHO!!! Captain!!” She took him in her arms and stared into his eye. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He grinned dumbly and laughed in kind. Matching her excited energy and spinning her around. “Screw paying back your debt; let’s go kill a whale.”

“Ohohohohoho!”

“Ahahahahaha!”

They twirled around the room in manic glee, engaging in this dance of other’s deaths. How could she not think of this before? Screw the sea witches! Sweetheart would rather beat them at their own game.

Cuz Capt. Spaceheart, her co-captain, their crew and her trusty mace was more than enough to take down those slime girls and beat up a whale! Right?

Right?

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go prepare!” Sweetheart started tugging Capt. Spaceboy up the stairs. “As soon as the crew comes back, we fly to Deep Well!”

“We fly to Deep Well!” he echoed happily, charging up with her. But in their frenzied haste, Capt. Spaceboy ended up tripping. “Gah!” Bringing Sweetheart down with him.

“Eeek! …owwww.”

They laid in a pathetic heap at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sorry, Sweetheart.” He sat up, helping her sit on the steps with him. “I guess I’m still worn out from our cliff dive, heh.”

“Hmm.” Sweetheart brought her knees to her chest and sighed. “Fine. Orange joe and fries won’t cut it this time. We need real rest.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “So, tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.”

Sweetheart’s bouncing emotions settled on his promise. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d be able to put this whole nightmare behind her. No clams included. She smiled. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Thank me when it’s over,” he said warmly, but reddened at the accidental implication of his words. “Uh, that came out wrong. I mean-”

Turning her head, Sweetheart swiftly pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Captain,” she said again, delighting in his beet-red face. Running her fingers up his body, she rested them on his cheek, which was hot to the touch. “For before and after it’s all over.” 

His stammering only made her more amused. Teasingly, she brought her face closer to his…

And nestled against his chest, going for a hug. 

“Mmh…” she hummed, content. His heartbeat was fast and full of life. She loved listening to it. “I can’t wait til this is all over.”

“M-me too.” He was still recovering from her trickery, frozen in place.

“You still get flustered easily.”

“I’m not, I’m just…!” He struggled with his words and took a breath. Ignoring her soft “Ohohoho,” Capt. Spaceboy managed to compose himself. “I thought you were gonna do something else, is all.”

“Like what?” She mischievously thrusted her face back close to his.

His heart was hammering, but he wasn’t caught off guard this time. He knew her well, she was his ex after all. And being in such close proximity again, looking into those playful petal pink eyes, they shined differently now. They still teased with a hint of trouble-making, but they lacked that sadism he always associated with Sweetheart.

She wasn’t going to hurt him this time. She didn’t want to. Capt. Spaceboy was sure of it.

Just as sure as he was falling for her again. But not pop star Sweetheart, or Rose Garden Duchess Sweetheart, ruler of the Sprout Moles. But rather broke, Space Pirate Sweetheart. Grinning at him, weary but still raring to go on more adventures.

A future with this Sweetheart filled him with more genuine joy and enthusiasm than ever before.

“Like this.”

Capt. Spaceboy didn’t want much in life. Having fun with his friends, making his dad proud, maybe capturing an entire solar system and stuffing it in his closet. Simple things befitting the son of a renowned space pirate captain. As his heart - the heart that was recently returned to him, the heart that became whole again - pounded in his chest, there was one more thing he desperately wanted in life.

To share that heart with someone.

One, two, third times the charm?

So what if they broke up and divorced in the past, on two separate occasions? Capt. Spaceboy just couldn’t give up on her; Sweetheart was his co-captain. For life. This time, this third and last time, proved it.

Convincing himself of this, he leaned in and did the unthinkable. He made the first move.

Softly and with the slightest bit of hesitance, he kissed her. His ex-girlfriend, his ex-wife, his sweet jelly-filled donut. His space pirate co-captain. His Sweetheart.

And she didn’t pull away, whack him with her mace or mock him with her obnoxious laughter (a laugh he found rather cute.) No, she kissed him back.

Sweetheart was stunned at first, but that chip in her heart gave way to his tender touch. This felt right. It felt good. Almost too good for Sweetheart. After everything…

But that train of thought would only bring back the coldness in her chest. She finally felt it thaw, or at least, subside. And if she was being honest…

Sweetheart was falling for Capt. Spaceboy too.

For the first time.

The first two times they were together, she never really saw him. Or rather, appreciated him. Sweetheart was the star of the show, the grand prize. All attention was spent on her, and how lucky and honored he should feel to bask in her presence.

She had viewed him as nothing more than one of her adoring sprout mole fans. Just, better looking and worthy of her affections.

Now she felt differently. She viewed him exactly as he was. Emotionally unstable, easy to fluster, easy to anger. Video game playing, sno-cone eating Space Pirate Captain.

It didn’t take long for Sweetheart to reciprocate, kissing him back. Slowly at first, as if they were each expecting the other to reject them. But the feeling was very mutual, and Sweetheart craved affection. Growing hungry, Sweetheart pressed her body against his, pushing his back against the railing. He was all too happy to comply, running his hands up her thighs and resting on her hips.

This wasn’t new to either of them, but merely going through the motions gave little. Third times the charm and they finally had what they were missing. Chemistry. Passion. Love. And-

“We’re back dudes!” The front door flung open. “Before you get mad-” Space Dude stopped short, the other crew members bumping into him. They all gawked in shock. On top of getting caught by the crew, Pinkbeard pushed his way in front.

Respect. Sweetheart and Capt. Spaceboy finally had respect for each other.

“Ohhhh, bro noooo.”

“Ack! Sorry, buddies! We should’ve knocked!”

“Knocked on our own door, mate?”

“Why have a bedroom if you’re gonna do it right on the stairs, pal?”

“Clearly they were on their way, amigo. Just didn’t make it there.”

But it wasn’t the comments from the peanut gallery that had Capt. Spaceboy pensive. He jumped to his feet once Sweetheart fell back, waiting in apprehension.

For what his dad had to say.

“Dad…! I, uh…!”

If he had anything to say at all.

Pinkbeard merely grimaced, shook his head, and walked back out the door. The Space Pirates all stepped aside, anxious in the uncomfortable silence.

Capt. Spaceboy couldn’t stand it. “Dad, wait!” Shooting Sweetheart an apologetic glance, he sprinted after him. Leaving her behind, still stunned on the staircase.

The Space Pirates all shuffled awkwardly. “Uhh, wanna dig for treasure in the Junkyard, dudes?” Space Dude was met with eager replies. They hastily made their exit, vanishing as quickly as they arrived.

Only Space Buddy lingered, awkwardly glancing back at Sweetheart. “Um, sorry about that, Capt. Spaceheart. We didn’t know.”

“It’s fine!” Sweetheart said, her voice coming out shrill, even making herself wince. 

Space Buddy grimaced, twiddling his flippers as his countenance remained shadowed. “Okay. And um, just so you know this wasn’t anything against you. It’s just, the Captain fell off a mountain and we thought his dad would wanna know-”

“Space Buddy, bro! You coming?”

Space Buddy snapped to attention, flippers flapped to his sides. “Ah! Yeah, Space Bro, buddy!” He looked back to her sheepishly. “Gotta go.”

Sweetheart smiled tightly and waved him off. After he scuttled away shutting the door, she realized what the timid penguin was trying to say.

They told Capt. Spaceboy’s dad on him. About her.

Sighing loudly, Sweetheart dropped her head in her hands. Of course they did, and why wouldn’t they? They were his crew, his friends. They were only trying to protect him. Meanwhile Sweetheart was still completely lost in her own world.

Daring a peek through the window panel, Sweetheart could see father and son arguing. The hot-tempered Capt. Spaceboy was expressively voicing his feelings while the quiet, reserved Pinkbeard looked on in worry.

We weren’t doing anything wrong! Sweetheart wanted to shout. A part of her wanted to fling the door open and derisively defend herself. Stampede over and interrupt their private conversation. Mace swinging and voice ringing.

But Sweetheart turned away. Retreated farther inside the empty and silent space pirate home. Sure, she wasn’t Pinkbeard’s favorite person and he certainly wasn’t hers, but third times the charm didn’t mean she wanted history to repeat itself.

She didn’t have the time to repeat cumbersome mistakes.

Trudging to the closet, Sweetheart pulled her patched-up pink dress off the hanger. Grabbed her big-ass bow off the shelf and her dainty heels from the floor. Kicked off her black pirate boots, peeled off her plain bandana and shed the signature space pirate uniform. Discarding her Capt. Spaceheart identity in the process, Sweetheart donned her original garb.

She stared blankly at the reflection in the mirror. Becoming someone else wouldn’t solve her problems, but it felt like this image didn’t fit anymore.

Regardless, none of this mattered if she was Humphrey Food in a week.

Leaving the pirate uniform behind, Sweetheart knew she had to stop playing pretend. Entertaining outlandish loopholes that would never work. She’d only drag Capt. Spaceboy down with her to their watery graves. Evade the threat by killing the threat? They couldn't even defeat Jawsum and his gator guys, how would they take on Humphrey? Now that the excitement died down and she was alone to think rationally, it was a suicide mission.

And stepping outside, she could tell Pinkbeard felt the same way.

“Dad, you’re not getting it! This is a life or death situation!”

“I do get it, son.”

“So…? What’s the problem? Sweetheart’s-” That’s when he noticed her. She was back in her bright obnoxious outfit, pretty in pink. But not about to question it now, he had more concerning matters to address. “Sweetheart’s life is in danger.”

“And whose fault is that?” Pinkbeard said gruffly.

Her heart felt heavy; facing the consequences of her actions simply wasn’t Sweetheart’s style. But she knew she could only say one thing in this moment.

“It’s the sea witches’ fault, of course! Ohohohoho!”

Her words hung in the air. Stifled, thick, awkward air.

“Um,” Capt. Spaceboy looked between her and his dad. “Yeah, that’s right! It was the sea witches!”

Both Pinkbeard and Sweetheart gave him weary looks.

“Uh.” He backpedaled, blinking innocently. “Is it not?”

“Of course not,” Pinkbeard said matter-of-factly, his voice a low rumble. “And she knows it.”

“Ugh.” Sweetheart pointedly pushed her way between the space pirate captains. “Whatever, I’m outta here.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

Capt. Spaceboy was about to give chase, but Sweetheart whipped back around, pigtails smacking him in the face. “Back home. Without you. Because your stupid little plan of taking down Humphrey won’t work. Your space crew couldn’t even kill some gator guys, how will they take on a whale?” She haughtily spun back around. “They won’t. You’d all be fish food, so I’m better off figuring this out myself.”

She marched onward, not looking back. She didn’t want to see Pinkbeard’s judgmental stare or Capt. Spaceboy’s crestfallen face. She also really hoped the crew didn’t come back yet. If Space Buddy heard her, Sweetheart didn’t think she could ever come back to Otherworld.

But that’s assuming she’d pay off her debt and survive.

The farther she went, the quieter it got. So Capt. Spaceboy didn’t follow her - that was good. Less hiccups to worry about.

Standing at the edge, looking down that long ladder, Sweetheart felt a groan rise up. Or maybe it was a sob. The mere thought of scaling down a ladder made her want to cry out to the cosmos; how would she manage to pay off her debt?

Sweetheart fell to her knees, defeated. Why did she say all that to Capt. Spaceboy? Sure, it was a suicide mission, but so what? Better him and his crew than her, right? The Slime Girls needed the clams because they feed Humphrey with it. Penguin meat should be juicy enough, maybe that whale would get full and she’d be completely off the hook!

“Ohohohoho-” A sharp pang in her chest interrupted her desperate laughter. Her fake laughter. Sweetheart clutched her aching heart, sick of these constant chest pains. Powering through it, she wobbly got back on her feet.

It should be a simple fix to run back to the ship and say ‘just kidding!’ Capt. Spaceboy was easy, after all. Pinkbeard wasn’t an issue - her ex always took her side anyway, he was before she ruined it with her obnoxious ideals. And the Space Pirates had to still be in the Junkyard - she was sure Space Dude and Space Bro would’ve chimed in if they weren’t.

So no biggie! Sweetheart dusted herself off and turned back around. She was eager to start Plan S: Sacrifice Spaceboy.

To her surprise, her ex was right behind her. So he did chase after her, that made things much easier.

“Captain! I’m so glad you’re here! I-”

Once again, the words got stuck in her throat. Just like when she wanted to demand his clams, she clammed up. Not again.

His stare of concern evolved to worry as the silence grew. But she just couldn’t get the words out, the chest pain even stronger. It was like something was preventing her. Like sharp claws gripped her throat and punctured her lungs. Squeezed her black heart until it bled out, shriveled and grotesque.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Yes!” she snapped, breathless. “I just…”

“Ohhh.” Capt. Spaceboy nodded in understanding. “You got heartburn from all those fries, didn’t you?”

Insulted, Sweetheart immediately threw her hands to her sides, no longer clutching her chest. But she was smart enough to take an opportunity when it presented itself. It was better than the truth.

“Yeah! They were spoiled, do better next time! Hmph.”

“Sorry about that. Anyway.” Capt. Spaceboy pulled something out from underneath his cloak. “You left your mace.”

Sweetheart blinked, her hand instantly flying to her belt. That shriveled up, black and punctured heart flipped. Beating with ambivalence.

“You left it in the bathroom. Along with your Space Pirate uniform.” He pulled that out too. “So, should I give these back to you, or throw them away?”

Were you breaking my heart again? Or were you joking?

This was the perfect opportunity. Tell him what he wanted to hear and she’d get everything, easy. Like always.

Never / Always.

“I’m not coming back.”

Capt. Spaceboy visibly shattered, his arms dropping and his shoulders sagging. “Oh.”

“The plan won’t work. You’ll die.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Humphrey will eat you alive.”

“Not if we all work together-”

“I’m not a space pirate captain!” Sweetheart smacked the uniform he was holding out of his hand and to the ground. Snatching her mace from his grasp, she twisted on her heel. Turning her back to him once more. “So stop trying to make me one- ah?”

Twisting on her heel, and charging right off another cliffside.

“Aaaaaghhhh!!”

Accidentally stepping off the edge, she tried to recover her balance. But her forward momentum was too strong, slipping over the side and getting her feet tangled in the ladder. She tried to twist her body but she was grasping at air. Falling twice in one day, Sweetheart was for sure a walking hazard. But this time, there was no one to cushion her fall. 

“Goodbye, cruel world!!!”

“Sweetheart.”

Daring to open her eyes, she realized she wasn’t a broken donut on the dirt fields below, red jelly spilled out and splattered about. No, she was held tight in Capt. Spaceboy’s arms, a few feet from the edge. In one piece.

Embarassed, she roughly broke out of his embrace and put some distance between them. Catching her breath, she took a peek at him. He merely brushed himself off with a stoic expression.

So it was back to this. That dead look in his eye; stone-cold hatred. Sweetheart should be used to this toxic cycle of love and loathing, but she’s been feeling differently as the days went on.

And despite this, he still saved her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, smoothing down her dress. Her fingers caught on the mended patches of fabric Capt. Spaceboy had sewn. Her heart flipped again, just like her feelings. Always flipping back and forth; use him or protect him.

Or save him. Like he did her.

Always.

“Thanks for everything,” she said, but he hardly reacted. Picking her mace off the ground, she noticed the discarded uniform laying next to it. Acting impulsivley, Sweetheart tied the bandana around her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Just taking a…memento. To remember you by.”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh. I guess I should thank you for not ripping my heart out this time.”

Sweetheart frowned. The damage was already done. She took her mace to his heart and his mind one too many times. So the initial plan worked then. She should be happy.

“Thank you for letting me be a part of your crew.” She continued, playing with the fastened bandana. “And for all the fun adventures we had. Even if for a little while. That’s all.”

A happy middle was good. Don’t lead him to his death, but don’t break his heart, either. Again.

And try to maintain her dignity throughout it all.

“Well, see ya. This donut’s going home. I’ll mace the train ticket out of them if I have to.” Stepping to the ladder with heightened caution, she held up her arm. “And I’ll think of you.” Flicking her wrist, the bandana bright in the starlight. “Everytime I swing my mace. Ohohoho.”

Capt. Spaceboy looked at her back, dumbfounded, questioning and confused. But mostly, rendered speechless.

Glancing over her shoulder and shooting him one last cryptic smile, she hooked her mace and swung around the ladder. Gripping the side bars, she took a breath and slid out of sight. All the way down, not giving him the chance to catch her this time.

Chapter Text

Stepping off the train, embracing the dry air and sizzling heat, Sweetheart forgot how much she missed it here. After so much time away - and she couldn’t blame it all on the whale - she was finally back.

Back home in Orange Oasis.

Just as promised, Sweetheart had maced a ticket out of a commuter waiting for his train. She was impatient and irritated and all out of ideas; she just wanted to go home.

It was an odd feeling, smacking a sprout mole around again. He was just collateral damage; it’s not like she took pleasure out of it. Not much, anyway. Not as much as she used to. Ironically though, it was the same sprout mole that booed her off the stage before, so she didn’t feel too bad. She should’ve maced him from the start, she was just too tired back then. After so much time moping around, it was practically necessary to throw her weight (and mace) around. Establish her dominance. Show who’s in charge.

And yet, when her mace made contact with the soft squishy face of the sprout mole, Sweetheart winced. Swiped his train ticket and scurried onboard.

On the way there, she tried to justify it. He was rude first, she was simply standing up for herself. A whole two months later.

Sweetheart slumped down in her seat. It was a moot point now; she was on a moving train destined to home.

Home. Stepping off the train and striding to her front door, Sweetheart was finally home.

The poor girl from the desert returned to her roots.

“...Um, hello? Grandmas…?”

Pushing open the door and entering, she was curious to see if things were the same. Anxious to see if they were different. But mostly, afraid to know if she was unwelcome.

“...Sweetheart? Oh my, Sweetheart’s home!”

She was immediately swept up in warm, loving arms. Her grandmother held her tight, so soft and familiar, she felt like a small donut again. Hugging back, she wished she was a small donut again. Wrapped up in her safe embrace, she was foolish to fear rejection from her family.

“I’m home.”

Her other two grandmothers strolled into the room, bringing little Donut Hole along with them. “Oh, so the youngster finally visits, eh?” Grandma 2 said dryly while Grandma 3 simply smiled. Donut Hole cooed.

“Um, yeah.” She pulled at her dress nervously. It was less of a visit and more of a getaway. Hideaway, to be most accurate. The situation was hopeless, so where else to turn to but home? “Can I stay here for a while?” Who else to hide behind but her family?

“Of course, sweetie.” Grandma 1 brushed her bangs from her face. “You can stay as long as you like.”

The family she left behind for a life of luxurious lies.

Tears crept at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to bawl like the crybaby she was. Instead, she hastily wiped it away. “Thanks, grandma. I’ll be in my room.”

She wondered if she still even had a room here, but before she could find out, Grandma 2 spoke up.

“So why didja come back? Is it because your little boyfriend returned too?”

Sweetheart stilled. “What?”

Grandma 1 chuckled while Grandma 3 tended to Donut Hole, unbothered. Grandma 2 continued teasingly, “Oh, acting coy now? Fine fine. I saw nothing.”

“Capt. Spaceboy’s here?” Sweetheart asked in alarm. So he took the ship and came by her family home looking for her? In a way it made her happy that he still chased after her, but it wasn’t safe for him. “Where is he?” she sighed.

“Who?”

“Now you stop playing coy and just tell me where he is!”

“No really, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Captain?” Grandma 2 scrunched her face. “I don’t know any damn captains here in the desert.”

“Ugh.” Sweetheart rolled her eyes. “He’s a space pirate captain, not a sea pirate captain! And stop playing dumb-”

“Ohoho,” Grandma 1 laughed softly. “So our little sweetie’s wooing two men, is she? Ohohoho.”

“Grandmas, what-”

“Well, we don’t know about any Captain,” Grandma 3 said casually while rocking Donut Hole. “But Rococo stopped by.”

Rococo.

Sweetheart sucked in a breath. In all her fatigue and flurry of emotions, she forgot about him. Of course that would be who her grandmothers were referring to. When she was younger, they took him in. Growing up, he became her best friend turned boyfriend.

Her first love.

“Rococo…is here?”

Her ticket to a debt-free life.

“Where is he??”

All three grandmas looked at her curiously. Accustomed to her mood swings and rapid outbursts, they let it slide off their sprinkles.

“Ohoho, in a rush to see him, are you? He’s in Rain Town, sweetie.”

“Don’t you remember you two rascals would always go there to hide from us? And your chores? Hmm?”

“Except now that little Rococo’s become an artist, he said the environment there makes for a relaxing atmosphere.”

“Rain Town, right.” Sweetheart’s head was still spinning from the news, now old and buried memories rose to the surface. Times when they play-fought under the hot sun and then cooled off in the gentle drizzle. Laughing like kids do; falling in young love like teens do.

Then throwing him away in the castle walls for eternity like Sweetheart did. Old and buried memories indeed.

“Uhh, okay! Thanks, grandmas! I have to go.” Not even taking five steps inside, Sweetheart was already dashing out the door. Saying hasty goodbyes and pointedly ignoring their humored expressions, she left her home. Making a beeline to the shimmering oasis in the center of the desert, she braced herself to confront yet another ex.

Brushing her fingertips along the surface, she felt that familiar and tranquil sensation take over. Closing her eyes and steadying her breathing, she relaxed. Her nerves slid off her back as the water surrounded and submerged her.

Opening them, she found herself in Rain Town.

It was just like she remembered. Peaceful and pristine, full of happy veggie kids dancing around. In fact, the place seemed even better than she remembered. The nostalgia made her smile, if a bit sadly.

“Is that Sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart’s home?”

“Sweetheart, look! The rain is lighter now, come play with us!”

The veggie kids spotted her and bounced with joy. Oddly, their words reminded her of the sprout moles at her castle when they welcomed her back, which only twisted her heart more. She had adoring fans - no, adoring friends - this whole time. Right here at home.

Sweetheart beamed for the kids and skipped in a circle with them. They were so happy it was infectious. “Yeah, I’m back.”

“Rococo came back too! This is great!”

“Oh, um, right! Do you know where he is?”

It was now or never. As nice of a distraction as this was, she couldn’t dance her worries away. Hiding out in Rain Town worked to avoid her chores from her grandmas, but it certainly wouldn’t work to run from her debt. Three very angry Slime Girls wanted their money, and one very hungry whale wanted to eat.

So back to business. She had to find her ex and squeeze him out of all his clams. Her life was at stake, and that was the priority. Naturally.

Following the veggie kids’ directions, Sweetheart made for a secluded area in the corner. Soft, nourished grass flattened underfoot as she approached. She could see a canvas sitting atop an easel, the artist hidden behind it. So consumed in his new passion, he didn’t notice her. She walked slower now, more hesitant and unsure of herself. What would she even say? How should she act? It’s been years since she’s last seen him; her mind went blank.

Stopping short of the painting and its painter, she took a breath. “Rococo…?” The rapid brush strokes ceased. “Um, it’s Sweetheart.” Ugh. She sounded as timid and insecure as Capt. Spaceboy! And worse now, she was thinking of Capt. Spaceboy! Getting her head back in the game, she concentrated on her debt. On the clams; things that really mattered. So she needed to be - or at least sound - as convincing as possible. “I mean, ohohohoho! Your duchess has returned, my love! So come out and bow to me!”

A shock of mint green hair popped out from behind the canvas. Pointy purple elf ears came with it, and out fluttered a scarf that’s been worn as long as Sweetheart knew him. But most of all, it was the face that stared back at her that quickened her pulse.

“LE GASP!!”

Chapter Text

Bright amber eyes bore into Sweetheart. The eyes of her childhood friend, her first love, her discarded ex-fiancé.

Rococo’s eyes.

“Sweetheart…?” Instead of just peeking over his easel, he fully stepped aside. Taking her in just as much as she did him.

Those eyes narrowed.

“Why are you here? Outside your castle?”

Sweetheart inhaled sharply. This was going to be a lot harder than Capt. Spaceboy. As for whether she meant acquiring his clams or earning his forgiveness, she wasn’t sure. But both would be nice.

“To find you, of course! Ohohohoho!”

Rococo noticeably stiffened. “No…no! I can’t go back!”

Sweetheart winced. “Uh, yeah! I mean, no! Of course not! I’m rather sick of my castle lately.” She quickly lied. “And besides, there’s no place like home, right?”

Rococo blinked. “Oh. My mistake, duchess. I just figured you discarded this place the same way you did me.” Going back behind the easel, he resumed painting.

This was going nowhere fast. Lying never did her any favors - in fact it almost killed all her opportunities. Unless she made a clumsy recovery, which she was going to do right now.

“Well, actually, it was my castle that discarded me.” Growing tired, she sat down on the plush grass. Rococo peeked back at her, surprised by her sudden change in tone. She continued, spilling the whole story to him. Her clones, her debt, the uprising and the clam-collecting. It was cathartic and pathetic and oh so familiar. To be talking on and on while Rococo listened…it felt like nothing changed. Without her noticing, he had stopped painting and sat next to her. So engrossed in telling her tale, venting her worries, her fears, her guilty conscience, something as simple as that was a comfort. 

To be heard.

Wrapping up her sordid story, there were two things she still didn’t mention. Two things she didn’t ask him for yet: his clams and his forgiveness.

“So yeah. That’s everything. But…” she hesitated, the words stuck and splintering her heart. As usual. So obnoxious. 

“But…?”

“But,” she repeated, struggling. She’s been through this a thousand times over with Capt. Spaceboy, surely it should’ve gotten easier? “But.” I’m really sorry! “But.” I need your clams! “But! I really want to know more about your paintings!” A broken record to an embarrassing degree, she couldn’t say either.

So she blurted out something completely random in a moment of panic. Unfortunately, the tightness in her chest didn’t go away, but fortunately Rococo seemed to accept her answer.

His look of concerned confusion gave way to insurmountable glee. “You do? Hyohehyohehyohehyo!” With a flourish, Rococo spun the easel around and displayed his work with pride. “Behold! My latest masterpiece: Rain Dance.”

A landscape portrait of Rain Town stood before her. Realism with a magical stroke of artistic vision, sentient raindrops decorated the canvas. They were joyous things, the vibrant colors practically dancing off the canvas itself. If it was possible to paint an atmosphere that could be felt, he achieved that feat.

It was beautiful.

“So? What do you think?” Rococo prodded.

I love it. “It looks great!” Can you paint me something, too? “So you sell these for clams, right?”

“Are you interested in commissioning me?” His eyes lit up, getting the wrong idea. “Hyohehyo-”

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. Um.” Sweetheart faltered once again, unsure how to proceed without being blunt and rude.

In her struggle of internal conflict, Rococo continued. “Uh, were you simply interested in this piece? I must apologize, as this is for your grandmothers.”

“What? They commissioned you?” There was no way her broke family could afford Rococo’s outrageous prices!

“No, it’s a gift. For letting me stay with them…and you…growing up. And again, now.”

“Do you think-” I can get one too? She swallowed those words down. Because this time she thought of it for profit - not to be the owner of a pretty picture. And then she’d be repeating the sno-cone situation all over again.

Sweetheart took a breath. “Do you think you’ll be staying a while?” And tried to cover her blunder.

“Mmh, no. My muse is ever fleeting; I go wherever the paintbrush takes me! Now that I can-” He cut off abruptly, panic and pain crossing his countenance. “I mean, never mind! Please forget what I just said. DON'T LOCK ME BACK UP!”

“I’m not! I said I’m not!” she reassured him quickly. But seeing him shake in fear only amplified her conflicting feelings. She could easily bluff and say, but if you want to stay free, hand over one-hundred-thousand clams! Ohohohoho! Or she could say, I’m sorry for locking you up in the first place. I promise it will never ever happen again. Clams, or kindness? Freedom or forgiveness? Sweetheart was getting torn in two and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not,” she repeated. “I can’t be bothered.” She crossed her arms, vexed. These mental breaks were quite bothersome. “But, I am glad the rare bears didn’t get you.”

“Mmh, they seemed to like the taste of sprout moles more.”

“Oh.”

A heavy silence fell over them. Sweetheart wondered what kind of bloody state her castle was in now, if she could still call it hers.

“Ahem,” Rococo coughed. “Anyway, yes. I had no choice but to leave. I thought I was content staying there and painting only for Omori and his friends, but there’s so many more opportunities outside your walls! So much more clams. Hyohehyohehyohehyo-”

“I agree!” Sweetheart tightly smiled. “So uh, how many clams did you get? Can I see?” Can you give them to me? Or do I have to mace you?

“Sorry! I just finished the last few.” He closed his eyes in satisfaction. “That was a good meal.”

“...what?” Sweetheart blinked, lost in a fog as Rococo continued, blissfully unaware.

“I get hungry after I paint, and clams are delicious! They definitely beat the old tofu that I’d scavenge and scrape through the cracks in the walls before.” He shuddered. “I never want to see tofu again…”

“You mean, you eat them?” she asked quietly, afraid of the answer. But his bright smile and enthusiastic nod just drove the truth in deeper. Sweetheart felt like she could disintegrate, become one with the rain and get absorbed into the earth. Here lies Sweetheart.

“Uh, Sweetheart? What are you doing?”

She didn’t realize she had actually laid down on the dirt during her stupor. “Just figuring out how big a plot my grave should be.” But with all hope lost, was she really being dramatic? Or accepting the circumstances? This was the reality she’s been running from all along - it was over.

“Um, what? If you’re that hungry, I’m sure your grandmas-”

“Oh yeah, I’m hungry. Hungry for one-hundred-thousand clams!” she cried. “My life is over!”

“Ahh, greedy as usual, I see.” Rococo sat next to her sullen deflated shape. “Though that sounds like quite the delectable feast! Mmh.”

“Then you and a murderous whale think alike.” Tired of the rain pattering on her face, Sweetheart sat up and glared at him. “I just told you about my debt! I just told you I need one-hundred-thousand-and-one clams to save my life! Not to stuff my face! And I only have one.”

“So you did.” The jesting demeanor didn’t leave his expression, but it seemed deliberate. “And what would my eating habits and painting payments have to do with your debt?” His smile was sunny and sweet. Full of saccharine.

All it was missing was an ohohoho!

So that’s how this was. If Sweetheart learned anything on this journey, it was the consequences of her own actions.

“You don’t care about my paintings, and you don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true!” Sweetheart said immediately, unable to keep the screechy whine out of her voice. “I really liked your painting and I’m glad you’re not dead!”

“Sure.” Unlike Capt. Spaceboy, Rococo spoke matter-of-factly. His words weren’t decorated with anguish, he wasn’t torn up over Sweetheart's true feelings or intentions, whatever they might be. “I suppose that’s true. But when I first saw you, I asked you why you’re here. And you said ‘to find me.’ So why are you looking for me, Sweetheart? If not to look at my paintings or lock me up, what then?” Rococo stood, brushing any grass blades off. Stepping back to his easel, he looked down at Sweetheart. “Well?”

Rococo was only asking because he knew the answer. He must’ve known from the start - that she was only here because she wanted something. And he simply played along until the truth was clawed out of her.

Sweetheart hung her head in shame. “Yeah, I’ve been looking for you. For about a month now. It’s funny, actually. Just when I gave up, that’s when I found you.” She dared glance back at him. His expression was blank. Bored. Just waiting for her to say-

“I’m sorry.”

“Yep, I know. You want my clams- wait what?”

“I’m sorry!!!” Sweetheart said it again. Louder, head thrown back in a full on wail. Crybaby tears slipped down her cheeks, getting lost in the light rain. “I’m sorry I locked you up! Making you starve, having to feed off the scraps of old tofu in your cell. And now because of that - because of me -you eat clams!” Big wahs and boo-hoos persisted; she didn’t care who heard or saw. Her life was over anyway. “It’s all my fault! Everything! Everyone hates me!! And now I’m gonna die and it’s all my fauuu-”

Flick!

Sweetheart’s tantrum was cut short by a flick on her forehead.

“Stop that.”

Wiping her eyes, she sniffled. Rococo was kneeling in front of her, pulling his hand back. “That’s better.”

“Wha- but…!” Sweetheart’s heart flipped. She wasn’t faking it! That sad and pathetic display wasn’t for show! “I’m not lying! I-”

Flick!

“Stop.”

Rococo certainly wasn’t Capt. Spaceboy.

Retrieving his paintbrush, he trailed it along her face.

“What are you-”

“Voila!” Rococo leapt back, satisfied with his handiwork. “It’s complete.”

“What is?” Sweetheart asked darkly, but got up to look for herself. Finding a puddle, Sweetheart peered into it. Her miserable face stared back, but it was accompanied by happy dancing raindrops - teardrops - painted down her cheeks.

Sweetheart swung back around, livid. “You jerk!!”

“You don’t like it?” he teased. “I thought you said you liked my painting, and that you weren’t lying? Hyohehyoheh-agh!”

In a fit of rage, she tackled him to the ground. Pinned underneath her, a mace to the face at this range was sure to make him TOAST. Sweetheart’s hand twitched.

Flick!

And flicked him on the forehead.

“Jerk.”

“Hyoheh.” The last bit of his laughter evaporated with the rain. Flat on his back, Rococo looked past Sweetheart, staring into the distant sky overhead. “You always beat me in fights.”

Sweetheart leaned back. “That’s because you never put up much of a fight.”

“That’s because no one wants to win more than you, Sweetheart.”

Sliding off, she knelt next to him. Glancing at the happy veggie kids in the fields still engaged in their rain dance. “Rococo, I really am sorry.”

“...I know. Me too.”

They stayed like that for a beat. Basking in unspoken words and soft rain.

Sweetheart leaned over and gingerly took the paintbrush from his grasp, meeting no resistance. Carefully, she started painting shapes on his face. “What do you have to be sorry for? For getting involved with me?” She let out a tortured chuckle.

“For not being honest.” Rococo’s eyes were closed now. To protect them from the rain and Sweetheart’s amateur face-painting skills. “Just like you.”

The brushstrokes stopped. “You lied about something?”

“...no.” The brushstrokes continued. “Not deliberately, anyway. It was more like a lie by omission.”

“What was it?” she asked softly, not mad or upset. Just curious.

“Back when we were…” he trailed off. “I wanted to have kids with you.”

“Ohoho, did you?” Sweetheart smiled faintly. “That lie has nothing on mine.”

“Sweetheart, I mean a lot. Like, a whole planet’s worth.” He opened his eyes and sat up. “I wanted to repopulate my race with you.”

Rococo, the lone elf who escaped death on his home planet. Helpless to stop the invasion, all his friends, family, everyone was slaughtered before his eyes. Sweetheart and her grandmas offered him the best home and shelter they could provide when he crash-landed here in Orange Oasis all those years ago. They were caring and comforting, listening to his story. Sweetheart hated those invaders for what they did, but…

“You wanted what??”

“I wanted to-”

“No no no, don’t say it again.” The thought of a million mini versions of herself running amok made her physically ill. Just three clones was more than enough. “Wait.” But that gave her the perfect idea. “That’s it!”

“What?”

“That’s how I’ll survive and pay my debt! My clones! And you!”

“I’m lost.” Rococo looked at her in suspicion, the happy broken hearts she painted danced across his nose bridge. “I told you I have no clams. And how is the very reason for your debt going to get you out of it?”

Sweetheart’s eyes shone in cunning glee. “Why don’t we make a deal?”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet!” Clearing her throat, she continued. “You want to repopulate your race, and I want to live. So my clones can carry all your spawn for me! Ohohohoho!”

Rococo’s shoulders sagged. “Sweetheart, no. Besides, would your clones even be able to…”

“Won’t know until you try!” She winked, then began to plead. “Please, Rococo? I have no other options, and I don’t wanna die! Please help me?” she sighed. “I can carry the mini elf donuts myself, if you’d prefer that.”

“Funny how you offer yourself second.”

“That was for your sake!” she screeched. “I thought you’d rather repopulate your planet with someone else; someone better.” You’d love Perfectheart, she thought, somewhat bitterly. Everyone would love Perfectheart. “Ahem! So, do we have a deal?”

“...I really did love you, you know.” Sweetheart’s desperate plea got cut short at Rococo’s quiet words. He glanced away, the painted broken hearts on his face just added insult to injury. “So no, I can’t accept this…deal.”

How typical of her to exploit a weakness and use it against him. Grabbing a rag by the easel, Sweetheart gently dabbed under his eyes, wiping off the paint. “I understand,” she said softly. “And…I loved you too.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah.” Wiping her own face, Sweetheart held back a sob. Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she be good? Even in her last moments, she couldn’t help but pitch insensitive ideas to save her own skin. She couldn’t help but be selfish.

“But I’ll still help you.”

Yet she was surrounded by those completely selfless.

“What?” She lowered the rag. “Why? There’s nothing in it for you.”

“Does there have to be?”

Does there have to be? That sob Sweetheart held back came flooding out now. Sinking to her knees and blowing snot into Rococo’s paint rag. Something he said so simply hit her like a truck. Or a mace, straight to the heart.

“Stop that.” He took the rag and grimaced, holding it by the tip of his fingers. “Le sigh.”

Sniffling, Sweetheart wiped her face on her sleeve. All these adventures, all this running around, making demands, commands, and crying when things didn’t go her way…

All it took was a little honesty, and a whole lot of kindness.

“Thank you,” she hiccuped. “Rococo!” And bear hugged him.

“Ah, hyoheh…” He patted her back consolingly. “Think nothing of it, Sweetheart. I enjoy painting and you enjoy living, no?”

“Well.” She fell back. “One-hundred-thousand clams is kinda a lot, so are you sure?”

“I was thinking of seeking out Omori and his friends!” Rococo’s eyes sparkled, now that they were back on his favorite subject. “He commissioned me quite a few times.”

“Oho? And does he pay handsomely?”

“A whopping one thousand clams upfront! Hyohehyohehyohehyo!”

The light faded from her eyes while Rococo was still ecstatic. “...that’s all? Do you plan on painting one-hundred times?”

“I want to paint for the rest of my life!”

Sentiments were great, favors were appreciated and life-saving methods stole her heart. But- “I’m dead.” Pretty words didn’t feed a hungry whale. “I only have a week left. That’s not enough time…wait!” But she knew just who did pay a pretty penny for Rococo’s paintings. A sly smile warped her face. “Ohohoho.”

Rococo eyed her curiously. “Sweetheart? Who are you after this time?” And knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Come Rococo!” Her eyes blazed with a bloodthirsty fire. “Let’s go kill a croc!”

~ ~ ~

Despite Rococo’s ramblings that ‘they are alligators’ and ‘he got the clams with no violence necessary’ it still didn’t slow Sweetheart’s charge one bit. Trusty mace in hand, vengeance on the brain (for a certain space pirate) and survival pounding in her soul, she marched to the Last Resort Casino. Intent on picking a fight, painting a picture and collecting 100,000 clams.

BAM!

“I’m baaack!” She kicked open the casino doors. “And I want to skin me some gators! Ohohohoho!”

Nearby gamblers just stared at her blankly, then resumed their games.

“Hm.” Rococo looked around - the place was practically empty. “Perhaps try the office?”

“The place was crawling with security first time I came here,” she grumbled, but followed. Picking up the pace and overtaking him, she led the charge. Once the elevator dinged at their destination, Sweetheart stepped off and slammed open the office doors. Second times the charm.

“I’m back, Shark-face! And I want my clams!”

“I’ll paint more pictures! For a good price, hyoheh.”

But the office was also deserted. Normally it milled with gator guys, and the boisterous Mr. Jawsum calling the shots behind his desk. But all was quiet and still, no one behind the desk.

Or so she thought.

A rustling sounded, and out popped a head from behind that desk. “Oh, can I help you- ah? Sweetheart?? And Rococo?”

Equally as shocked, Sweetheart stared at the handsome suit-wearing man before her. “Hero? What are you doing here? Where’s Jawsum? I need to…speak with him.”

“Oh, he went on vacation. I just took over.” Hero stammered, his new-ness obvious. “Temporarily, that is!”

“I see.” This worked entirely in her favor. “So as temporary boss, will you give me one-hundred-thousand clams?” She smiled sickly sweet. “My Hero.”

“COMMISSION MEEE!” Rococo added, eyes bright and excitedly already setting up.

“Oh, uh.” Hero was caught off-guard. “Aren’t your commissions usually one-thousand? Not, one- hundred- thousand?” He chuckled awkwardly.

Irritated by his reluctance, Sweetheart tried again. “But this is a special commission.”

“Yes, yes! Instead of a group picture,” Rococo flipped his hair and presented the blank canvas with a flourish. “You’ll get your very own solo portrait!”

“Um, I don’t need one-”

“Then how about someone else?” Sweetheart egged, impatient. “One of those random Hero fans you fancy so much. Hmm?”

He blushed madly at that, stumbling over his words. “Uh, I don’t think she’d like to be called that, haha…” Scratching his neck and looking to the side. “But…” Almost too quiet to hear, he mumbled “A painting of her would be nice…”

Both Sweetheart and Rococo lit up. “So is that a-”

“MR. HERO-SUM!!!”

A shrill shout echoed through the office, interrupting the exchange and causing all three to leap in alarm. It was a Gator Mom, barging in and utterly beside herself.

“Have you found my boys yet? Are they safe?”

“Oh, Barbracoa! Um, no. Not yet.” Hero looked down, awkward and ashamed. “Uh, guys?” Then looked at the pair of swindlers. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for this. Not when…” he sighed. “Jawsum left me this crisis to deal with.”

“Oho?” Sweetheart grew interested. “What crisis?” Putting the pieces together, she pried “Is that why all the gator goons are gone? They’re missing?”

“Gator Guys,” Hero corrected. “And yeah. Before Jawsum left, he sent Gator Good and Gator Great down that elevator.” He gestured to the elevator in the corner. “Something about it made him feel off. Which is why he went on vacation, to get away from it. But the guys haven’t returned, so Gator Grand went down yesterday to bring them back. And now he too…” Hero glanced apologetically at Barbracoa. “Hasn’t returned.”

“My boys, please bring my boys back!” Barbracoa sank to the floor and sobbed.

Hero looked back to the elevator, growing uncomfortable and off himself. “I don’t know what to do…”

“I do,” Sweetheart said smugly. “I’ll find them.”

“And I’ll paint!” Rococo added, just as determined.

Sweetheart beamed at their excellent teamwork and wonderful turn of events. “Think a painting and your gator goons are worth one-hundred-thousand clams?”

Hero gaped at her sudden proposal in shock, but Barbracoa was quick to agree. A desperate mother would try anything, and Hero couldn’t crush her hope. Unable to refuse, he caved. The few employees he had left didn’t want to go, afraid of meeting the same fate.

The elevator never came back unless called. And it always came back empty.

“Okay. Deal.”

“YES!!” Just like that, her debt was paid. All her problems solved. Sweetheart was ready to celebrate; she won!

“Be careful.” But Hero wasn’t done. “It’s not safe. I don’t think it’s… normal down there.” He shuddered as a sudden chill swept over him, making him look away from the elevator. “So, just be careful.”

Sweetheart felt it too. A wave of terror gripped her heart, her soul, her very being. Almost making herself plant to the floor. She felt this before, right here in this room. It stunned her into silence, too choked up to say anything.

Then Rococo held her hand. “Do you want me to come with you?” His eyes were also wide, his hands quivering.

Warmed up a bit, Sweetheart sucked in a breath. “The painter needs to stay here and paint!” she said with a forced smile, her cheerful words coming out scared and hollow. “And the macer needs to mace.” Squeezing his hand, she let go. Rococo wasn’t a fighter; she won all their fights after all. So she had to go alone. 

This was her debt to pay, and she had to earn it.

Stiffly, she walked to the elevator. Already reaching for her mace out of fear, as if the second she hit the DOWN button, the manifestation of all her nightmares would appear. Letting out another breath, she tried to calm those nerves. Using the butt of her mace handle, she hit the button.

The elevator opened.

Stepping inside, it was no different than any of the other casino elevators. And yet, her heart was hammering like crazy. Her terror through the roof. Looking at Barbracoa’s pleading gaze, Hero’s concerned one, and Rococo’s horrified one, Sweetheart held her head up. She had to be strong. For herself, for her friends, and to save those gators she so recently aimed to slaughter. 

“I’ll be okay,” she said, willing her voice not to waver. “I’ll find your boys.” She nodded to Barbracoa. “And I expect that paycheck.” She smiled again, looking at both Hero and Rococo. “So don’t let me down, Rococo! Paint away! Ohohoho!”

“Yeah…hyoheh.” Rococo paused, not quite sold on her confidence. “Sweetheart, let me go with you. I can paint after-”

“No, there’s not enough time! My debt is due.” As scared as she was, for some reason she knew she had to go alone. Like that something clawing at her chest all this time would go away if she did. And if she failed to get rid of it…

She couldn’t drag Rococo down with her.

“I’ll be okay,” she said again. Before she could change her mind, she hit the button. The only button on this side of the elevator. No numbers, no floors. Just DOWN. “I’ll see you real soon!” She called out before the doors shut, Rococo’s worried eyes the last thing she saw. Hands tight on her mace, Sweetheart pressed her back against the wall and stared at those closed doors.

The elevator roared and shook to life. Taking her DOWN.

Breathing out, she said it again. For her sake. “I’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” Eyes wide open, as if something was about to wrench those doors open mid-descent. The farther down it went, the more her heart sank, her mind spiraled and her fear skyrocketed.

Then the elevator stopped.

Chapter Text

“WHERE IS SHE??” Marina snarled, stomping back and forth.

“We’ve clearly been had, dear sister,” Molly sighed. She nonchalantly perched on Medusa’s desk and played with the test tubes.

“I knew this would happen,” Medusa said, snatching the test tubes from Molly and setting them down farther away. “But it’s still rather disappointing.”

“Don’t give up on Sweetheart yet!” Perfectheart waltzed into the lab, followed by Roboheart and Mutantheart. “I haven’t.” She made a heart with her hands and smiled. Roboheart and Mutantheart attempted to replicate the gesture, struggling. Even so, it was kind of adorable. Perfectheart beamed at her Sisterhearts, overjoyed.

But the Slime Girls felt differently. “Well, I have! She’s almost out of time!” Marina kept up her tirade. “And she’s not here, because she’s-”

“Hungry.”

Both the Slime Girls and the Sisterhearts stilled at the ominous voice. Looking around, they noticed a Humphrey bud staring holes through them.

“Um.” Molly glanced at her sisters. “Has anyone fed the whale lately?”

“No!” Marina immediately responded. “That was supposed to be Sweetheart’s job!”

“Marina. It was your turn to feed him,” Medusa said through clenched teeth, poking around her wallet in annoyance. “I already used my clams on new equipment.”

“And I used mine on new clothes,” Molly said, not bothering to check her purse for clams.

“Well, I don’t have any-

“HUNGRY.”

Their bickering ceased at the more forceful, more threatening sound of his voice. It echoed throughout the lab, a multitude of eerie Humphrey buds now popping up in the vicinity.

“Um, girls?” Molly slid back, which only prompted more buds to sprout up in the empty space and stare menacingly. “So you’re saying we have nothing to feed Humphrey?”

Reaching back for that test tube, Medusa said, “It seems so.” Not breaking eye contact with the Humphries while doing so.

“Sooo…” Marina pulled out the trusty chainsaw. “You mean we have to…”

“Henno.” Mutantheart waved to the Humphries.

“H U N G R Y!!!!!”

“RUN!!”

Tossing the test tube, the Slime Girls made a mad dash for it in an explosion of smoke. Grabbing their beloved experiments, they tugged them along.

“Bye, Mr. Humphrey!” Perfectheart called out as Marina hacked the buds to oblivion. “Take care!”

“Take care and DIE!” Marina blasted through them, creating an opening.

“Quickly!” Medusa ushered everyone through while Humphrey was momentarily stunned. Wading through the sea of Humphries and overcoming the pull of his digestive fluids, the group managed to escape. Fully intact, no calamari.

“I’ll kill her!” Despite just surviving a life-threatening situation, Marina was still mad. “We lost everything!”

“Not everything,” Perfectheart said with positivity. “You still have each other!”

The Slime Girls exchanged a look. Molly let out a sigh. “So basically we lost everything.”

Leading the charge, Marina wasn’t going to let this rest. “Then it’s time to make Sweetheart pay.”

~ ~ ~

Landing in Orange Oasis, Capt. Spaceboy was ready to disembark. Ready to get lost in the swirling brown sugar sands to find his Sweetheart. Especially after the ambiguous way she left him.

“Sweetheart! Where are youuuuu?”

Despite how his crew felt about it, as usual.

By himself, he was beginning to grow hysterical. It was hot, he was lost, and he took too long deliberating what to do. He’d never find her now, it was too late. He’d burn up to TOAST at this rate! “Sweetheart!!!”

“She’s probably in the house shaped like a donut, dude.”

“How…quaint, bro. Definitely nothing like her castle.”

“I actually like this better than the castle, buddy.”

“Huh?” Capt. Spaceboy spun around, dazed. Blinking through his confusion, he noticed the donut house in the distance. “Oh.” Then he looked at his crew, all shuffling after him. A burst of appreciation overwhelmed him. “You guys…!”

“We’re still not sure about this, amigo.”

“But we’ll always support our Captain, mate.”

After Sweetheart left, the crew had to handle Capt. Spaceboy’s erratic mood swings, just like the old days. No, he shouldn’t be chasing after this girl again. Yes, it only disappointed his dad.

But this time was different. 

Even if he was the only one who believed that.

“So lead the way, Captain! We’re right behind you, pal.”

But his crew believed in him. And that kept him going.

“Thanks, guys. Then…” Charging up the steps - frantically fixing his hair and smoothing down his shirt - he knocked on the door. Please answer, he prayed. And please don’t be mad.

Crack! The blinds in the side window were split apart. Three pairs of eyes peeked at him, fighting to see.

“Uhh.” Capt. Spaceboy nervously stepped back. “I think this is the wrong house-”

Click! Creeeak. The door swung open before he could change his mind.

“Oho? And who might you be?”

The space pirates and their captain all stared at the donut who answered the door, talking with a tone very reminiscent of Sweetheart. Two more donuts squeezed on either side of her, staring curiously.

“Um, hello.” Capt. Spaceboy blinked, taking a second to adjust. He recalled Sweetheart mentioning she had grandmothers, so maybe… “I’m Capt. Spaceboy, and this is my crew. Is Sweetheart here, by any chance?”

“Ohohohoho ~” The first donut woman’s eyes lit up, laughing quietly. “You’re looking for Sweetheart, are you?”

“Tch, so you’re the Captain, eh?” the donut on the left said, looking him over. “Not bad, but I’ve seen better.”

“Sweetheart’s our granddaughter,” the donut on the right said, turning around to tend to the tiny cooing Donut Hole. “Sorry, but you just missed her.”

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you all.” Capt. Spaceboy grew flustered. “I can see where Sweetheart got her laugh-”

“Ohohoho.”

“And her attitude.”

“Hmph.”

“And…you’re just a nice grandma.”

“Oh?”

“But!” Snapping out of it, Capt. Spaceboy wasn’t here for pleasantries. Sweetheart’s debt was due and he had to help! “Do you know where your granddaughter is??”

~ ~ ~

“What…happened here?”

The Slime Girls and Sisterhearts made it to Sweetheart’s Castle, but the sight before them stole their breath away. As if they weren’t huffing and puffing already, exhausted from their escape.

But the littered carcasses, trail of blood and limbs, and broken-in castle walls told them they weren't done running.

“So did Sweetheart just have a bad day? Or…” Molly gazed at a sprout mole body while Marina poked it.

“It was definitely not Sweetheart,” Medusa sighed, so over today. Dragging her feet, she walked between the bodies and approached the entrance.

Only to be denied entry.

“HALT!”  A flurry of armor-clad sprout moles scurried to protect the castle. “Identify yourselves!” But looking past the Slime Girls, they noticed a certain familiar pink-haired pulchritudinous face. “Sweetheart? Sweetheart’s back?”

“To finish us?” Another sprout mole said. “Or save us?”

“Neither,” Medusa said loudly, holding her head up and narrowing her eyes. “Because this is Perfectheart. Not Sweetheart.”

The sprout mole soldiers stood in awe, utterly captivated. “Perfectheart…what a perfectly pulchritudinous face!”

“Oh dear.” Molly glanced at Perfectheart. “Looks like you stole Sweetheart’s suitors.”

Perfectheart blinked innocently, smiling graciously. “I don’t steal. Stealing is bad.”

The sprout moles were full on swooning now, ready to declare their new duchess.

“Stealing is fun.” Marina charged up, taking advantage of their lovestruck state and shoved them aside. “C’mon sisters! Let’s pilfer whatever’s left in this dump!” But before she could carelessly storm the castle, a chambermaid mole stepped out.

“There’s nothing left,” she said. “The rare bears destroyed everything. And, as sad as it may be, we don’t know how to run a castle without someone to direct us…” The remaining sprout moles looked hopefully at Perfectheart.

But the Slime Girls quickly jumped in front of her. “You’re not getting my experiment,” Medusa growled. “Unless you can fork over 100,000 clams.” Her sisters cackled at her temper, while the sprout moles cowered.

“Wait!” Castella, the chamber mole, stood her ground. “Sweetheart was saying she needed clams too. Before, you know…”

“We stupidly released the rare bears.” The sir knight moles hung their heads.

“So?” Molly asked, growing bored. “Does Sweetheart have the clams or not?”

“I’m not sure,” Castella said, deep in thought. “But I can venture a guess as to where she went for them.”

~ ~ ~

“Back here again, dude.”

“Let’s steal some clams and beat some gators, bro!”

“That’s not why we’re here, buddies!”

“It’s not,” Capt. Spaceboy confirmed, his exposed eye sweeping over the casino. “But we will if we have to. For Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart’s grandmothers pointed the crew back to the casino. It made sense that her last ditch effort would be the Last Resort. But Capt. Spaceboy didn’t want to see her trapped in eternal servitude, either.

It seemed like Jawsum had no one on contract at the moment, though. The place was a complete ghost town. “Hmm.” Capt. Spaceboy walked through the aisles of slot machines and game tables carefully. His dad even mentioned he hardly came here anymore - something about it recently gave him the creeps.

It was starting to affect Capt. Spaceboy too. “C’mon, let’s find Sweetheart.” He didn’t want to stay here any longer than he needed to.

To his shock, he did find someone he knew, just not his impulsive ex-wife.

“Hero?”

Omori’s friend emerged through thick double doors, accompanied by someone he didn’t know.

“Oh, Capt. Spaceboy! And the Space Pirates!” Hero greeted them sunnily, but he couldn’t conceal the darkness shrouding his expression. “What are you doing here?”

“More like…” Capt. Spaceboy looked him over, all suave in his business suit. “What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?”

Hero caught him and the crew up. Telling him about Jawsum’s exit which brought about his new job, the strange presence that spurred it all and the disappearing gators. “Now, Rococo and I are looking for Mari.” He glanced around, his face mixed with worry and embarrassment. “Have you seen her?”

Rococo. Capt. Spaceboy stared at the elf, who simply stood by Hero, unaware of his spiraling emotions. So Sweetheart found him. Her first love… Shaking himself out of it, he didn’t have any more time to waste. Because she didn’t have any more time, period. “No, I haven’t seen Mari,” he answered Hero. “But where is-”

“WHERE IS SHE??”

A sudden scream drowned out Capt. Spaceboy’s question. Running through the casino were the Slime Girls and…

“Sweetheart??” Capt. Spaceboy stared in disbelief at the girl in front of him. She merely smiled sweetly, peacefully and perfectly. “No,” he said, let down. “You’re too nice.”

Medusa butted in, eyes thinned and voice cold. “Where is she?”

A group of sprout moles scurried in next, gazing at the ensemble rather comically. “Oh, Capt. Spaceboy and Rococo,” Castella trailed off, mumbling. “Never thought I’d see you two again. But if you’re both here…”

“Where’s Sweetheart??” Marina screamed again, impatient and irritated. “She owes us big time, and she’s not getting out of it!”

“So you’re the sea witches Sweetheart was talking about?” Capt. Spaceboy rounded on her, his crew quick to back him up. “The ones she owes a debt to?” Hand on his gun, he was ready should things head south.

“Oh? Is that what she called us?” Medusa scoffed.

“I rather like the sound of it.” Molly smiled, mischief in her eyes.

“I prefer the sound of clams falling into my palm!” Marina held up the chainsaw, done with this constant dance. “So cough them up, loverboy! Otherwise you’re-”

SLAM!

A loud noise cut off Marina’s threat, a tall shadow accompanying it. Ceasing the bickering and fighting altogether, it sent a chill down everyone’s backs. Slowly turning to face the source, they looked up at the figure looming over them. Taking in the deranged grin and soulless stare. Sweetheart was no longer the priority while this behemoth crashed the casino.

“I fucking love air conditioning.”

Chapter Text

The elevator stopped. Back pressed against the wall, Sweetheart gripped her mace tight. Holding it out far in front of her, as if to ward off any evil presence on the other side of the doors.

Soundlessly, the doors slid open.

“AAAAAHHHH!!!!” Breaking the silence with a forced battle cry, Sweetheart blindly charged forward. Physically pushing through her fear, she wanted to get this over with. Grab the gators and get out.

But no gators, malevolent spirits or much of anything met the end of her mace. Swinging haphazardly in the air, Sweetheart slowed her charge and stopped screaming.

No one was here.

Terror subsiding, Sweetheart looked around. “A treehouse…?” The foreboding feeling she had before was gone. Her descent down the elevator was scarier than this.

Even though this hardly made any sense.

Her brain might’ve been a bit fuzzy from the fear, but-

“So Jawsum’s hiding a haunted treehouse under his casino??” Considering she was held prisoner in a laboratory inside a whale, Sweetheart let it go. She only cared about one thing.

“Gator goons! Where are you?” Acting loud and obnoxious chased away any residual feelings of dread. Stomping on the old wooden planks, she was even beginning to feel cocky. “Cowering for your life? Ohohoho-” Stepping on a weak plank, it snapped under her weight. “Huh?”

Mercilessly plunging Sweetheart farther down.

“AAAAAAAAGHHHH!!”

Eating her words, her ego vanished as she plummeted. The elevator ride was bad enough, but free-falling into pitch-black darkness stole Sweetheart’s brief moment of bravado. In a blink the treehouse was gone, obscured by the black. And Sweetheart was swallowed by it.

The longer she fell, the more terrified she became. No longer screaming, Sweetheart shut her eyes tight. With just the open air and a mace to hold onto, she waited for the eventual splatter. No cliffs to slow her descent or Capt. Spaceboy to catch her fall, she was sure this time she would be TOAST.

But suddenly the weight of gravity lost its pressure. Daring to open her eyes, Sweetheart was hit with a blanket of white. “Am I dead?” At least it was painless. And who would’ve thought the duchess of broken hearts would make it to heaven? Staring up at the hanging lightbulb, Sweetheart felt conflicted. Picking herself up and looking around the stark white room, everything felt so plain.

“Where are the pearly gates and puffy clouds?” Sweetheart complained, smoothing out her dress and dusting off. Ripping off a few tissues from a stray tissue box, she patted down her face. “What a lame afterlife. I’d have more fun in hell at this rate.”

It was a moot point to grumble without someone around to listen, though. Clipping her mace back on her belt, Sweetheart took in the austere room, feeling more unfulfilled than ever. She was this close to freedom! Instead of lavishing in her castle living debt-free, she was stuck here. Wherever here was.

“The first thing I wanted to do was take back my castle! And kill that Keeper. Maybe send him here. Ohohohoho!” As she raised her hand in laughter, something on her wrist caught her eye.

The bandana.

Thumbing the fabric, Sweetheart stopped lying. There was no one here for her to put on a front, anyway. Letting her barrier break, she said softly, “I would’ve wanted to go on space pirate adventures with you.”

“Meow?”

Jolting up, Sweetheart spun around. Hand flying to her mace and eyes frantically sweeping over the room, she found the perpetrator. A small black cat innocently gazed up at her.

She relaxed, loosening her grip. “Oh, I thought you were a plushie.” Kneeling, she pet her lightly. Spotting her name tag, she read it carefully. “So what are you doing here in limbo, Mewo? You fell too? I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet,” she teased. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone what I said before!”

“Meow?”

After a beat, it sank in that Sweetheart was making conversation with a cat. Standing back up, she smiled sweetly. “Aaargh! What am I doing???” Then promptly hunched over in a state of existential crisis.

“Meow?”

Mewo looked at her as if to say ‘waiting for something to happen?’

“Yes!” Sweetheart wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or cry. “Limbo sucks! I don’t wanna be here! I don’t wanna be dead!” So she did both. Sinking to her knees and throwing her head back in the most vile of crybaby temper tantrums. “There was so much more I wanted to do!”

“Meow?”

Aggressively wiping her face, Sweetheart looked at her only companion here in the afterlife. “Meow yourself.” And stubbornly turned her back on her. “If I’m stuck here with you, you’re going to have to- huh?” Cutting her own tirade short, Sweetheart blinked at the sight before her.

A door.

“It’s…a door,” she said.

“Meow?”

“It’s a door!” she said again, scooping up Mewo in realized bliss. “We can leave! OhohohohoHO!” Cheerfully skipping her way over, Sweetheart gave the door a swift kick.

Just like that, her fear returned.

The bright white room she was in was gone - like it never even existed. Complete darkness surrounded her, like she just stepped foot into another dimension. A place she couldn’t put into words, only that it made her afraid. Similar to how she felt in the elevator - no, worse. That was merely the ride, this was the destination. The true destination.

Not the treehouse. Not the white room. But here.

Welcome to Black Space.

“Meow?”

Either unaware of Sweetheart’s inner turmoil or just ignorant, the small black cat jumped out of her arms. Padding deeper into the abyss without a care in the world.

“Wait!” Her voice was shrill, panicked. Afraid to walk any farther but unwilling to let her only companion leave her behind.

Behind.

There was nothing behind her anymore. That room and its door were gone, swallowed up and replaced as soon as she walked through it. So quite literally there was no turning back. Only forward.

Before her small animal friend could blend in with the black and vanish completely, Sweetheart took that first step.

“GAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Shutting her eyes and swinging her mace with abandon, she turned those steps into stomps and charged onward.

“Meow!”

Blindly following the voice of her impromptu guide, Sweetheart turned to her left. Tripping over something at full speed, she landed hard.

“Agh! Oww.”

Reluctantly, Sweetheart’s eyes flew open. Rubbing her sore sides, she reached around to find where her mace fell. Hauling herself up and letting her eyes adjust to the dark, Sweetheart talked to fill the overbearing silence. “Did I accidentally step on you, cat?”

Half-anticipating a few scratch marks to the face, Sweetheart reached back to the thing she tripped on and tried to pick Mewo up. But instead of a small soft kitten in her grasp, she felt something rough. Leathery. Kind of like…

Inhaling sharply and scuttering away, a chill shot up her spine. The darkness in this room was suffocating, but she had to look.

“Gator goon…”

Somehow she didn’t scream. Only a haunted whisper escaped her as she comprehended the dead body before her. One of the gator guys. She couldn’t tell which one. Even if she were able to discern between them, all she could look at was the deep stab wound in the middle of his chest. Blood bloomed out of it and stained his suit.

“Waiting for something to happen?”

A high-pitched strangled noise erupted from Sweetheart. Leaping up, she looked wildly around. She didn’t scream then, but she would scream, now. With a lot of good swings too.

The killer was still in the room.

“You!” Finding the perpetrator, Sweetheart yelled to mask her fear. “You evil cat!” Her voice came out terrified as she locked eyes with the killer. Her skin crawled at the sight.

Standing tall on two legs was a motionless, most eerie looking black cat. Dressed like a butler and speaking in a language she could understand, this being was nothing like Mewo.

This being exuded malice. Twisted and warped, bored but amused. Like this was all a fun game. Almost reminding Sweetheart of-

“You killed the gator goon!” SWING! “When I needed him for my freedom!” BASH. “Since you took that from me!” SWING. “I’ll kill you!” BASH!

 The butler cat looked at her unflinchingly. Not bruised or battered in any way. Not even a crease on their suit.

Her attacks did absolutely nothing.

Breathless, Sweetheart stepped back. “Why didn’t it…” More than dread brought her to her knees. Utter hopelessness made her stop. “...work.” Gator goon was - no. Gator Good, Great or Grand was dead on the floor while this cat stood unharmed.

Turning away from the butler, Sweetheart focused her attention back on the gator. Her original objective: to bring him and his brother home. Blankly, she peeled the sunglasses from his face, thumbing over the GG insignia on the frames. “Which one were you?” she asked quietly, knowing full well she wouldn’t get an answer. Maybe she truly lost it now, talking to a cadaver. “Gator Good? Gator Great? Grand? …either way, Barbracoa loves you a lot.” Putting the sunglasses in her pocket, she gently closed his anguished eyes. Sweetheart felt a strong sense of sadness overwhelm her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” It wasn’t even about the clams anyore.

Someone died.

For the first time, Sweetheart fully acknowledged the amount of blood she had on her hands. She shuddered. “I didn’t mean it…” she trailed off, memories of smashed and decaying sprout moles came to mind. “I didn’t…”

“Meow?”

Trapped in this pitch-black miasma of misery, the simple sound of Mewo’s meow raised her spirits. Lifted her up and saved her from wallowing in an abyss of regrets.

“Mewo!” Scrambling to her feet, Sweetheart ran towards the noise. Finding the black cat in an incredibly dark room wasn’t easy, but she had to find her.

She already failed the gator, she couldn’t let them take Mewo too.

Fumbling around like a fool, she panicked. “Mewo, can you meow again? Please?” Desperate and delirious. The black space of this room felt more suffocating than before, like it was a living entity intent on destroying her.

“Mewo?”

Deteriorate her.

“Mewo??”

Devour her.

Click!

Before she could lose all sense of self, a light switched on. It was blindingly bright after being submerged in darkness for so long. Stumbling to a stop, Sweetheart screwed her eyes to adjust.

One lone lightbulb hung drearily down in the center of the room. Sweetheart wasn’t sure how she missed it; it was almost like it came into existence when the light flicked on.

That irrational logic could be the only explanation. Because there was no way she could miss what the bulb was lighting underneath it, dark or not.

“Mewo has been very bad.”

A prickling chill like long fingernails danced down her spine. Or maybe cat’s claws.

The butler cat said it so matter-of-factly, with barely any inflection. Although Sweetheart thought she could detect a slight hint of amusement on the edge of their tone. The Cheshire Cat’s grin they wore gave way to more riddles than answers, and she didn’t have time to try and decipher them right now.

“Mewo!” What happened? Who did this? The words got stuck in Sweetheart’s throat. They were useless questions anyway, what with the perpetrator standing right there in the corner of the room. Watching them, taunting them.

Killing them.

“Mewo!” Sweetheart said again, desperately grabbing at the restraints that held her down. Mewo merely meowed like normal, as if she wasn’t strapped down to an operating table. As if a lethal sharp object wasn’t deliberately placed next to her. As if there weren’t clear instructions written next to that. One-word instructions, to be precise.

STAB?

“No!” Sweetheart immediately retorted, trying instead to break the cat free of her restraints. “I’m not playing your sick, stupid game. Me and Mewo are…leavingggg!” No matter how hard she pulled, Mewo felt strangely and sadly impossible to free. Using the knife on the table to cut the straps didn’t even do the trick. Wedging her mace handle under it and yanking it didn’t either. “UGH. What is this weird and sadistic torture device?” She whipped her head up and glared daggers of her own at the butler. “Maybe I should use this knife to stab you.”

The butler barely reacted. Expectedly so, considering Sweetheart’s attacks had no effect. Although, it was still disappointing to see her threats go dismissed.

“Don’t just stand there! Say something!”

Channeling rage over fear, Sweetheart stupidly charged the butler once more.

“Cut open Mewo?” they said.

“I’ll cut open you!” With zero hesitation, she plunged the sharp knife hilt-deep into the butler’s chest. Stopping hearts was her specialty; this was no different.

At least, it shouldn’t be.

Extracting the knife from the body, there was no blood. Of course there wouldn’t be. Nothing worked before, so why would it now? In some ways it felt like the butler was a hologram, like they weren’t physically there. Even using the knife this strange room provided gave no impact, so it couldn’t just be Sweetheart. And yet…

Flick!

Aggravated, she impulsively flicked the cat on the forehead. She felt that. The butler didn’t move, but she felt it alright.

Sweetheart leaned back, annoyed and impatient.

This place was weird.

“Do you want to leave?” they asked.

“YES,” she exclaimed in a very loud and relieved whine. “That’s all I-”

“Then.” The butler maintained that unchanging disturbing smile. “Stab.”

“I did!” She raised the knife high to do it again, but managed to stop this time. “But it didn’t work.” Attacking the butler only zapped her energy, which would be better spent on finding the other gator and getting out of here. And…

Looking back at Mewo, Sweetheart felt her heart pound. “Mewo…”

“Meow?” Mewo lifted her head, curious by the call of her name. Not understanding anything.

How could she? Nothing here made sense.

The knife handle tight in Sweetheart’s grip, she slowly approached the small cat. She needed to leave. She had to find the other gator and get out. To get back to Hero and get her clams. To make sure Rococo held up his end of the deal. To repay her debt to the Slime Girls.

To check in with her grandmothers once it was finished. They worried, after all. And she appreciated that, she appreciated them.

To maybe, possibly, find Capt. Spaceboy. To apologize. To go on space pirate adventures with him and the crew, if they’d still have her.

To survive.

“Meow?”

Sweetheart rose the knife high.

“Meow??”

Staring hard at the innocent eyes that looked back at her.

“Meow???”

Swallowing down her fear.

“Meow???!”

Strengthening her resolve.

“Meow???!!”

Sweetheart plunged the knife.

“MEOW???!!!”

“AAAGH!”

Stumbling from the impact, Sweetheart harshly yanked out the knife and held onto the operating table for support. She didn’t want to look, but craning her head, she couldn’t help it.

Bright red blood trailed down her leg and soaked into her sock. Pretty soon it would puddle the floor if she didn’t wrap it. All spilling out from the stab wound deep in her thigh.

“Meow?”

Mewo looked at the wound and looked at her, the concern clear on her face and in her voice.

Even though Sweetheart was the one in pain, she wanted to comfort Mewo. Tell her everything was fine, and not to worry.

This was completely alien behavior from Sweetheart. Yet it came naturally, a knee-jerk reaction upon seeing Mewo’s frightened and helpless state. This kind of protectiveness was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Perhaps when she found Rococo, all those years ago.

She just.

“Don’t worry, Mewo. Everything’s-”

Click!

Wanted everything to be okay.

Chapter Text

It felt like Sweetheart blinked and Mewo was gone. The dead gator guy, the butler, that horrifying operating table…all of it vanished.

“Mewo! Where-” She cut her own panic-filled shriek short. The lightbulb was gone too, limiting her vision. Eyes adjusting to the suffocating darkness once again, Sweetheart understood.

She got exactly what she wanted.

Stabbing her leg did the trick. Following the butler’s rules, that’s all she had to do to escape that room. They tried to trick her into cutting open Mewo, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She surmised the gator guy felt similarly, which was very…

“You didn’t need to stab yourself in the chest, you fool!” Sweetheart screamed, filling the void with her loud whine. Her sad cry. To think only a few hours ago she was ready to send the gator guys to an early grave to get her clams, and now…

“Dumb idiot,” she sniffed. “Hopefully your brothers are smarter than you and are still alive.”

Thinking about the whole absurdity of the room, of this whole space, Sweetheart figured Mewo was simply a supernatural guide to help her find the gator. Seeing that she didn’t join her for the rest of her journey, Sweetheart would have to finish this job alone.

To find the other two gators (preferably alive and well) and to get the fuck out.

Sighing, she had nowhere to go but forward. However, taking her first step caused her to teeter in an unsteady sway. Amidst the rapid scenery change she somehow forgot.

Her bleeding leg.

Sweetheart really had no room to talk about the gator’s self sacrifice when she left her leg to free bleed like this. Any more and she was bound to pass out. And if she were to pass out here…

“Um.” A jolt of fear shot through her at the thought of actually, truly dying. Hastily checking her pockets, she tried to find something to stop the bleeding. When she didn’t, her rising distress made her nearly rip a piece of her dress off.

Then it hit her.

Untying the bright orange bandana from her wrist, tears welled in her eyes.

Let’s go on space pirate adventures when this is over.

She wanted to live. She wanted to live so bad.

Tying it tight around her thigh, she hoped it was enough. At least it would slow the bleeding down, giving her more time to search. To escape and properly get bandaged after that.

Holding onto hope, that was all she could believe in right now or she might as well have given up already.

Wiping her bloody hands on her dress and her tearstained eyes on her puffy sleeve, Sweetheart roared, “I’M NOT DYING HERE!!” Taking her mace back out, she overcame her fear by screaming it away. By charging farther into this black space at an awkward but determined hobble. By swinging her mace into a door as a way of entry.

“OHOHOHOHO-HO!” Sweetheart let out her battlecry, bursting into the room and wildly looking around.

Catching her breath and slowing her descent, she saw no enemies. No creepy butlers or eerie operating tables awaited her here. No gator guy either, but…

“Watermelons!”

All around her were large, ripely grown watermelons. They made for a scrumptious snack, but Sweetheart wasn’t hungry. Exhilarated at the sight, she raised her weapon high. “The perfect stress relief to a shitty day!” And brought it down.

BASH!

“To a shitty year!”

BASH!

“To a shitty life!”

BASH!

“OHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO!”

BASH! BASH! BASH! BASH! BASH!

Sweetheart spared no watermelon from her rampage. She aimed to crush every single one. To destroy something was just so cathartic for her. After a taxing, hopeless and most recently fear-inducing journey, mentally she could use this break. 

She justified her actions being that they were just watermelons, not sprout moles or anything like that. Nothing living, breathing or had a heart that could be hurt. Throughout her frenzy, Sweetheart retained that much rationality. She was merely letting off steam in this crazy place, no casualties involved.

CRUNCH!

“What?”

Shocked by the abrupt change of impact, Sweetheart peered at the watermelon. Extracting her mace, the juices burst everywhere. Bright red against unnatural black.

“Wait…”

Completely surrounded by crushed watermelons, Sweetheart started to feel claustrophobic. Foolish and stupid to waste what little time she had left doing something so pointless. So destructive. So-

“...!”

Deadly.

That watermelon wasn’t a watermelon at all. That wasn’t the skin of a fruit but the flesh of a face. Not the sweet smell of watermelon juice but the acrid tang of blood.

It was a human head.

“Mmph!” Eyes wide and clutching her mouth shut, Sweetheart stumbled back. Her injured leg gave way and she fell, only making the terror set in worse.

Only making the truth set in more.

Now at eye-level with a decapitated head, bloody and bruised, Sweetheart felt herself start to cry again. Openly and genuinely. Fully feeling the weight of her actions. Sure, he was obviously already dead (was he?) given that the body wasn’t there, but she still desecrated a corpse. She still swung without looking. Without thinking.

Without caring.

Instead of pulling herself back up, Sweetheart lowered herself more. Palms flat on the blackened bloody ground, forehead pressed against it too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

This was humiliating.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Uncharacteristic and unbecoming.

“I just…” Those hands curled into tight fists. Her despondent disposition gave way to hot tears and a scrunched face. “I want it to stop.”

The lowest Sweetheart’s ever been.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore…”

Small, insignificant and unnoticed. Back to her roots.

The poor girl from the desert.

Lifting her head, Sweetheart gazed blearily at the dead person she was venting to. The decapitated head she was complaining to. The frozen face bludgeoned beyond recognition she was begging forgiveness from.

The happy girl from the desert. The carefree girl from the desert. The loud and proud, ambitious and fearless, and maybe a bit obnoxious-

Sweetheart.

Struggling back to her feet, she felt herself sway on her unsteady leg. Despite the blood loss, fatigue and crushing feeling of failure, Sweetheart’s mind was clear.

“I didn’t kill you; you were already dead,” she said bluntly. Picking up her mace, she stumbled away. “Somehow, I’m not yet.” Gingerly touching the orange bandana tightly tied around her thigh - now drenched in her blood - she plodded onward. Not letting fear of her present circumstances bring her down. Not letting the idea of a perfect future distract her. Especially not letting her past haunt her; stall her.

Finding a door, it was like it was waiting for her to regain her grip on sanity before it materialized. Maybe that’s what this space was, what each room posed. A trial she had to endure and overcome before she could move on.

She was ready to move on.

Sweetheart pushed it open.

~ ~ ~

“I’m not dead,” Sweetheart said again, trudging through the dark recesses of black space. Clenching her teeth and pushing through the dull pain, she staggered on.

“I’m not dead.” I’m not the poor girl from the desert. “I’m not dead.” Not a pop star. “I’m not dead.” Definitely not a space pirate captain. “I’m not dead!”

Charging through another door, Sweetheart was breathless. Worn out yet invigorated from her own pep talk and positive thoughts, she stumbled right onto the soft sands of a shore.

It was ironic, really. Or maybe symbolic. Just as she shed the insulting label of the ‘poor girl from the desert,’ she walked right into an oasis. It wasn’t quite like home - scratch that, it was definitely not like home.

This place had a cool ocean breeze and a calming atmosphere as opposed to the sweltering sun and brown sugar waters back home. The beach itself was pink and powdery unlike the bright yellow sands in Orange Oasis.

Reaching down, Sweetheart grabbed a fistful. “Pretty,” she murmured. Pink was her color after all. It would go great with-

“Agh!” Shaking herself out of her mindless daydream, Sweetheart let the sand slip between her fingers. Dipping her hands into the water to clean them, she had to acknowledge that everything here felt somewhat nostalgic. So nice compared to the hell she endured thus far.

“So that means this is another trap, right? Another trial?” Sweetheart said to no one, looking around suspiciously. “Where are you hiding all the blood and guts, huh? Evil cat.” Truthfully, Sweetheart wasn’t sure if the Butler was the mastermind behind all these doors and games, but she needed someone to blame.

As much accountability as she was learning to take, even Sweetheart knew she wasn’t responsible for this nightmare.

Drying her hands on her dress, Sweetheart walked along the shoreline. The waves lapping against her shoes were gentle. The water sparkling, the sky clear, the sands soft. Everything here was so beautiful and tranquil.

It put Sweetheart on edge.

“You won’t catch me off-guard this time!” Yelling at no one made her feel kinda stupid, but it was better than succumbing. Succumbing to the poisoned fruit, to a tempting rest. To a place like home.

Stopping her endless stride and shutting her eyes, Sweetheart inhaled slowly. There was no end to this beach. There was no one around either - no corpses or gators or cute little cats. Sweetheart was completely by herself.

She exhaled.

I’m not on vacation, she thought. This isn’t a sanctuary; this isn’t my home.

She inhaled.

I’m still here. In that Black Space looking for the gator guys.

She exhaled.

To find them and bring them home. To go home myself. So I can… At this point a million thoughts crossed her mind. To get her clams, to pay off her debt. To mend her mistakes, to make things right. To…

“Live,” she said, opening her eyes.

The pink beach was gone. The calming waves and the serene atmosphere, all gone.

Sweetheart was back in Black Space. But then again, she never left.

“I’m going to live,” she continued with her spiel, pressing through the dark in search of the next door. “Not just for the clams; the debt. Or for doing better or worse or whatever,” she huffed, out of breath all of a sudden.

Somehow the tranquil beauty of the previous room distracted her from her wound. But bogged down under the black, the exhaustion crept back with a vengeance.

She couldn’t - wouldn’t - let it though. She wasn’t done. Not yet.

“I’m living…” She grit her teeth, glimpsing a door and marching towards it. “To live.”

Chapter Text

The next room wasn’t as comforting as the pink beach, but not as nerve-wracking as the Mewo room. The calm flowing river surrounded by an expanse of trees and stumps made this place feel rather normal and natural.

It reminded Sweetheart of the watermelon room.

Incredibly on edge, she took careful steps forward. Taking those deep breaths again, she knew she was in control this time. At least somewhat.

Taking small, reserved steps, Sweetheart approached the stream. The water was too murky to see through, not that she was about to stick her hand in and find out. Simply observing to see if any evil cats or bloody corpses lurked beneath was good enough for her. With a pit in her stomach, she supposed she should look for the gators there too. Dead or alive.

“Alligators can swim and live underwater, right?” she mused, walking along the edge. Keeping her eyes on the stream, it was almost completely still. It was hard not to seem serene.

Then she spotted a raft.

She saw it coming from a distance, drifting lazily toward her. Curious but also wary, Sweetheart slowly walked towards it. She didn’t have to go very far to see what laid upon it.

“Ah!” Hands flying to her mouth, she ought to be used to this by now. But still her heart pounded, this loud bom bom bom beating in her brain. Just like with the watermelon - rather, the decapitated head disguised as a watermelon - Sweetheart couldn’t look away.

Lazily, without a care in the world, the raft drifted closer. Sweetheart stopped walking, unwilling to meet it halfway. Except it didn’t matter as it continued to meander her way, bringing its passenger to her.

A headless corpse.

The irony was just too much.

“...haah…” Overcoming her initial bout of shock and fear, Sweetheart practiced her breathing. Eyes closed, concentrating hard and calming her nerves. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out.

The pounding stopped, her heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm. Feeling more at ease, she was comfortable enough to reopen her eyes.

Headless corpse.

Sweetheart foolishly thought the raft would have passed her by now, but that was too logical. No, of course the river current would cease and the raft would sit right where she was standing. Sweetheart surmised if she were to walk up or down the riverbank, it would match her movements. If she were to back up though…

Darkness encroached her vision like a living thing. Immediately stepping forward to the river bank restored it. Sweetheart let out a sigh. She didn’t scream, she didn’t spiral. She just calmly…

Got on the raft.

Of course it started moving once she was settled. Looking straight ahead, Sweetheart hugged her knees. The posture made her wound sting like crazy, but she welcomed the pain. It was a good distraction from the decapitated body sitting next to her.

“Haaaah…” Shaking, Sweetheart tried really hard not to think about it. Approaching the yawning entrance of a very dark tunnel did nothing to assuage her anxiety. As much as she wanted to jump ship so to speak, she had a bad feeling about touching the water. Like she would get pulled in, dragged to the depths, never to resurface.

No, there was no getting off this ride now.

Sweetheart closed her eyes tight before entering the tunnel. Immediately the atmosphere around her felt different, frightening and more fear-inducing than before. Of the unknown, of what nightmares are made of. Of sitting next to a corpse surrounded by the pitch-dark.

Bom bom bom bom. The rapid beating started again and little breathing exercises weren’t going to solve it this time. With each breath, Sweetheart felt like she was choking. Like the knife was on her neck, intent on taking her head next. Except it wasn’t a clean cut so she was gasping, drowning in the bubbles of her own blood and-

“Da da da! Da da da da ~ !”

Breaking out of this internal paralysis, Sweetheart started singing. At the top of her lungs, she sang off-key, trembly, and with barely a thought in mind. Except for one.

“Bum bum ba! Bum bum ba ba!”

That mixtape. That damned mixtape. The melody suddenly rang in her head, snapping her out of her stupor. Saving her from something worse.

“Ta ta ta! Ta ta!”

It was no surprise that this was the song to pop into her head. Not her own vapid obnoxious tunes or anything else she enjoyed in passing. No, this song was unforgettable.

“La la la la laaa!”

Those moments were unforgettable. Of time spent in her rose garden, eating decadent sweets and smelling the fresh flowers, dancing around to this mixtape with Capt. Spaceboy - until she broke up with him that is.

Sweetheart was vain and careless then. Tossing him and that mixtape aside without a second thought. Just as she had tossed Rococo in her abandoned underground mailroom, or how she hardly ever visited home. Selfish, self-centered Sweetheart.

“Da da da, da da!”

But now, in this moment of uncertain death lurking in every corner, Sweetheart treasured those old memories. Those precious moments she so easily disregarded were now at the forefront of her mind, the mental pillar of support she was clinging onto to survive. It wasn’t her castle, her strawberry cakes or her wonderful rose garden that kept her sanity in check. To keep her mind at rest, to chase the fear away. It was the intangible things, and not that of the fake love and adoration of the hypnotized sprout moles. It was-

Thump!

A noise sounded in front of her, bringing the raft to a stop. Hands clasped and eyes squeezed shut, her tense muscles began to loosen. She figured it was time to stop praying (and preaching) to the holy god of maudlin mixtape memories.

Cracking her eyes open, nothing appeared different. The raft sailed into a pile of rocks, which had caused it to stop. So far, everything seemed normal.

In a flurry of movement, she rapidly grabbed at her own neck, head and face. Checking to see if she was decapitated and didn’t notice. It didn’t make sense, but nothing here in Black Space did. It was more uncanny should things stay plain, mundane and uneventful. There was no way nothing happened on this raft ride of death through the dark tunnel of terrors.

But her head was still safely secured and attached to her body. Nothing was dismembered, not even a scratch on her other than her self-inflicted wound from earlier. Feeling the calmness return to her, maybe desperate prayers and deeply buried hidden strength really was the key to these trials.

She glanced at the corpse next to her.

“What?”

It was still there, unchanged. However, there was an accessory wrapped around the neck now. Sweetheart was sure she would’ve noticed it before, but perhaps maybe not. The sight of a corpse by itself was quite the shock, anyway. Gingerly, Sweetheart grasped the object. It had blood on it and chilled her to the bone.

A headset rested in her hands. Emblazoned with the initials GG on the side.

“Gator Guy…” It was fruitless to ponder. Stashing it in her pocket with the sunglasses, all she knew was that another one was dead. Looking into the murky water, she wondered if the gator guy was underneath somewhere. That perhaps he dove off the raft instead of weathering the ride, and never resurfaced. 

Just as she pondered that, something did break the surface. In pieces.

Sweetheart gasped, drawing back to the center of the raft, bumping into the corpse. Which in turn made her leap back the other way, feeling utterly trapped. All around her rose pieces of the gator guy. A scaly hand there, a snout stuck in a silent scream there, a shredded suit there. And were those eyeballs? 

She didn’t want to see any more.

Thoroughly disturbed, Sweetheart stepped over the pieces and off the raft.

Instantly stepping foot back in Black Space.

Sweetheart sighed. It wasn’t quite as jarring as when the lightbulb switched off on her in Mewo’s room, but it still threw her off. She very much preferred an ominous door materializing out of nowhere instead.

Inhaling sharply, Sweetheart screamed, “I shouldn’t even have preferences for this freaky place!” Finding her footing, she looked for another door. “I don’t want to get used to this place! I won’t die here like…” she trailed off, the weight of the gloom bringing her mood down. “Like the gator guys.”

She took this task to find them and bring them home. Instead all she had were some personal belongings. She thought they were better than nothing, but still.

“Don’t tell me they’re all dead.”

Dread slowed her pace. Sweetheart could just picture it now: Getting back to the surface with nothing but things to throw at Hero and Barbracoa’s feet. Hand out and pompously saying, “I tried, but they’re all dead. That’ll be fifty-thousand clams.”

As much as she knew about Hero, she was sure he’d still pay her. He’d be disappointed and Barbracoa would be devastated, but Sweetheart would be set. Granted if Rococo held up his end of the deal - which she was also sure he would - her debt would be paid. Her problem, solved. Her life, restored. Dead or alive, the end result would stay the same: a win-win for Sweetheart.

But she didn’t want that. Not just that, not anymore.

“Gator Guy, you better be in here,” she grunted, shoving open the next door with the bits of her trickling strength. “And I don’t mean in pieces! I mean alive, you idiot gator! If I can make it this far, so can-”

A blast of warmth and good vibes obnoxiously assaulted Sweetheart upon entry. A pleasant atmosphere persisted in this new room, taking Sweetheart by such surprise it stopped her charge and cut off her words. The petal pink grass and the various children’s toys scattered about made it differ from the pink beach room. She felt a strange calmness there.

Here, she felt a distorted sense of elation weigh her down. Or rather, forcibly lift her spirits up. A very uncomfortable, intangible pressure pushed and pulled at her emotions, urging her to be happy.

Sweetheart was terrified. But she couldn’t express it.

She wanted to walk carefully, her chest pounded with trepidation. But instead she skipped ahead, bounding down the path like she had no care in the world, singing an assortment of ohohohos as she did. But she did have cares, and the skipping really hurt the wound on her leg, yet she kept going. She couldn’t control her movements, her conscious thoughts were slipping away and her feelings gave in to fabrications.

It was utter bliss.

“Gator Goon! Found you!” she called out, her voice ringing hollow. Her smile too wide and not reaching her sunken eyes. This was a monumental discovery, a great victory to find the last gator guy alive, and yet it elicited nothing more than a cheerful remark. Merrily skipping to her mission objective like it was no big deal. She was simply too happy to care.

“Mace swinging monster!” The Gator Guy’s deep voice pitched unnaturally high, joyous despite the insulting nickname. “I take it you’ve come to wreck the place?”

“You bet!” She unhitched her mace and beamed. “What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know!”

“So let’s go!”

In a chaotic uncontrolled frenzy, the unlikely duo went mace swinging and karate chopping to their heart’s content. Hacking at trees, breaking apart swing sets and slides, stomping and kicking any stray toys on their path. Growing more manic and dazed with glee as they did, laughing and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

“Ohohoho, look! More friends!” Sweetheart cheered. “Is that my Hero?” Finding none other than her darling Hero in the clearing, flanked by his Hero fans, she ran to him. “Hero, my Hero!”

“Bossman Hero!” The gator guy equally cheered, running to his side. “What are your orders?”

Hero and his two friends turned to face them, sharing their enthusiasm. “Gator Grand! Sweetheart! What a surprise!” He shined that charming smile of his. “We were just finishing up here.” He stepped to the side, revealing a weakened enemy. “Do you two wanna do the honors?”

“Gladly, boss!” Gator Grand nodded vigorously, readying his claws for the kill.

“Yes, please!” Sweetheart laughed maniacally, gearing up to mace right in the face. “Ohohoho!”

Both of them eagerly charged the foe like it was nothing different from the objects they smashed and sliced. Raising her weapon while Gator Grand raised his fist, they were intent on sharing this experience. To finish what Hero started and move on to the next. Eyes glittering with sheer joy, they yelled out their battle cry and struck down.

“OHOHOHOHO!” SMASH!

“GWAHAHAHA!” CHOP!

Sweetheart breathed heavily, feeling the weight of the world in her mace right now. In her body, her soul. Her heart.

She fell to her knees, clutching the grass underneath. The pain in her leg came back, although it never really left. She was merely aware of it again. Aware of her surroundings, her temperament, her companions and her actions. The not so sweet dream ruptured.

She let go of the mace.

The handle fell on the field, but the mace stayed wedged in the foe’s face. The person’s face. Already beaten, bloody and bruised, he was certainly TOAST now. Dead now. Ironically, it made him recognizable this way. The watermelon head and the headless body on the raft, combined together.

“You,” Sweetheart said, barely audible. “It’s you.” Her eyes were lidded, her body hunched over. Exhaustion crept in where the energy seeped out. More precisely, where the fake energy that this room forced upon her fizzled out. She regained her sense of self, only too late.

“Sweetheart.”

A hand gripped her shoulder, most likely meant as a gesture of support, but it was just more weight to bear. Especially since that hand had blood on its claws. Two peas in a pod.

“We must go.”

His words were firm, but the remorse betrayed his composure. He regained awareness and regretted what they’ve done too. But really, they had no time to mourn.

And really, there was nothing to mourn.

“This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense!” Sweetheart struggled to her feet, wrenching her mace free as she did. “But I get it, though.” Ignoring Gator Grand’s mystified expression - even behind his shades she could tell - she shut her eyes. But instead of breathing exercises, she sent a silent message. I’ve killed countless times before, decapitation, mutilation, flattened faces and broken bones. Never ever did I have remorse before, but I get it now.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she echoed, breaking her gaze away from the body. I’ll do better, she vowed silently, striding back the way they came. Lo and behold, the exit appeared. Sweetheart was confident it would, more certain of herself, her surroundings and this test with every step she took. She finally had a grasp on the larger meaning, understood each lesson this place presented. And now…

Sweetheart glanced behind her to make sure Gator Grand was following. His head was bowed and back hunched, but he was keeping up. She faced forward.

Now she managed to save the life of one gator, bringing her back to her original MO. All that was left was to escape this place with him safely in tow.

“Sweetheart! Gator Grand! Where are you going?”

Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

As if they somehow materialized, Hero and his friends stood in front of the door, obstructing their path. Except they were different, distorted and downright frightening. Black gaping holes for eyes, bloody clothes and eerie smiles. Sweetheart supposed they always looked like this, she just only now noticed. Having passed the test and broke free of the room’s clutches, the grotesque sight made her sick.

“We’re going home,” she said, trying to keep the waver out of her voice. Lifting her head up, Sweetheart squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “So make way, Fake Hero and his fake Hero fans.” The real Hero was waiting for her back at the casino; Sweetheart was done with these illusions.

All three cocked their heads, saying simultaneously, “Fake? You’re the fake one, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sweetheart brushed it off, unwilling to let the disturbing trio trip her up. She didn’t reach for her mace, though. She just learned her lesson, after all, and she would hate to see that door disappear because she resorted to violence so easily. Even against fakes. “Still leaving. Byeee!”

Seeing as they had no intention of parting, Sweetheart pushed her way through. Surprisingly she met no resistance; she was half-expecting them to attack as she passed. But they were stiff like mannequins, not moving their living doll limbs at all.

Until she put her hand on the door knob.

“FAKE!”

Their shrieks jolted her nerves, hastening her pace to swing that door open. She felt hands grab at her, tug at her clothes and try to pull her back.

“FAKE!”

Still, she didn’t reach for her weapon. They weren’t real, and they weren’t her enemies. She wasn’t going to fall for this place’s traps, no matter how hard it tried.

“FAKE!”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, wrenching free from their grasps and tumbling through that open door. It knocked the wind out of her, but she made it. With hardly a scratch on her, she escaped the violent playground with flying colors.

“ACK!”

Those flying colors consisted of black and red.

Back in the general gloom of Black Space, Sweetheart gasped, clutching her leg and falling to the floor. The dull ache of her wound became a sharp pain and she couldn't comprehend why. Did those demons get her? Or…

Looking down, she glimpsed gator claws withdrawing from view, having cut through the space pirate bandana and pierced deep into her open wound.

“Why…?”

“Fake,” his deep voice came out as a threatening growl, losing its sophisticated charm. “Murderer!” Instead sparking a ferocious rage. “You killed my brothers! Don’t try to deny it, you can’t hide it!” 

Despite the venom behind Gator Grand's words, Sweetheart detected pain. A fierce sorrow that could only arise by the death of loved ones. A pain that Sweetheart never felt, given that she hardly got close to anyone. Given that those she did hold dear she took for granted. Given that she always put herself first.

“I’m sorry they died,” she said. Sweetheart was working on that part of her, starting now. “But I didn’t kill them.” That didn’t mean she would roll over and die though, especially when she wasn’t at fault this time!

Sweetheart faced him, managing to put some distance between them. “Yes, they died. But I didn’t kill them!” she repeated, digging into her pocket. “I just…! Huh?” She wanted to show him their belongings as proof, but came up empty.

“Looking for these?” Gator Grand dangled the bloody pair of sunglasses and headset in front of her. She surmised they got wrenched free when she was escaping the fake Hero and friends. “Collecting trophies, are we?” He gnashed his sharp teeth, jaw snapping in a deadly combination of anger and anguish. “Why are you even here? You’ve come just to kill us? And you…!” His grip on his brothers’ belongings grew taut. “You succeeded?!”

The fact that it was the very opposite made Sweetheart scream, “No, I came to save you! All of you!” He glared back in disbelief, as expected. She knew it was a hard sell; saving people was so unlike her, after all.  “So actually, I failed…” Losing steam in the argument, Sweetheart saw the bigger picture for once. People died. Being the bearer of bad news weighed differently when the bearer actually felt bad. “And I’m sorry for that. But I didn’t kill them. I picked up their stuff to bring back to Barbracoa, something she could hold onto, like a keepsake.”

“My mother?” Gator Grand’s growl was low and guarded.

“Yes! She’s really worried about you, you know! So Hero…commissioned me to find you guys.” She smartly kept the details to herself. He wouldn’t want to hear it, and she felt differently now; this meant more than the clams. “That’s why I’m here. To bring you home!”

“ENOUGH LIES!” Gator Grand charged at Sweetheart, easily knocking her down. Emotionally drained and physically exhausted, he had no trouble gaining the upper hand. His grief was heightened by the dizzying oppression of negative emotions here in Black Space. Usually calm, cool and collected, all logic and rationale was thrown to the wayside now. Gator Grand was hurting and presently the most optimal way to alleviate that pain was to hurt someone else. Namely, his brothers’ murderer.

“You killed them. SAY IT!”

Claws digging in Sweetheart’s throat, one simple flick would do the trick. To kill her as she did his brothers, no mercy, no hesitation.

“I didn’t kill them,” she said, blood trickling from her mouth. Although she was at a disadvantage, Sweetheart still had a hand wrapped firmly around her mace. She could swing it into the side of Gator Grand’s head and save herself that way. Boom: three dead gators and one lone survivor, just as she predicted. Clams, please.

“I didn’t kill them,” she said again. Her hand was still, not moving a muscle. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to fight anymore either. She was just so tired. Tired of this place, tired of figuring out the moral high road, tired of failing. So she shut her eyes and left that choice to someone else for once.

“...you didn’t kill them.” Withdrawing his claw, Gator Grand drew back and hung his head. “I let them die,” he said, all the malice and rage evaporating from his disposition. Only grief and regret remained. “I shouldn’t have let them go.”

Sweetheart said nothing. Offering words of comfort wasn’t her strong suit and she already gave him her condolences. Nothing could bring his brothers back or assuage his guilt, so she stayed quiet. Watching him carefully, seeing how his shoulders sagged and fists slackened. All the fight was gone in him, this place - this Black Space - lost its hold on him. Back to reality and facing the bitter truth, he mourned silently.

Motionless, she caught her breath, swallowing down the taste of blood. At this rate, even though Gator Grand didn’t deliver the final blow, he might as well have. Sweetheart felt her strength flow out with her blood; feebly retying the bandana barely did anything. A reopened wound and a new one on her neck was quite cumbersome, Sweetheart was too tired to deal. She just wanted to blink and make all of this go away. To be back home, healthy and happy. Under the very warm, sweltering sun in Orange Oasis.

Ding!

Dimly, both Sweetheart and Gator Grand turned their heads at the sound of a chime. There in the dark, a lone elevator stood, having descended down to their level from thin air. Its doors opened, engulfing them in a bright inviting light.

Sweetheart didn’t trust it.

Gator Grand warily rose, eyeing it with equal suspicion. “There’s nothing left for me here,” came his deep rumble.

Resigned, Sweetheart had to agree. Perhaps confronting Gator Grand was the final test and they were both granted to leave. Or perhaps she made all these requirements up just to keep herself sane throughout this nonsensical nightmare.

Either way, now it would finally end. The last door.

“I can’t move.”

Try as she might, Sweetheart was too weary to make an effort. Gator Grand looked back, this time his expression was unreadable behind his shades.

Silently scooping her up, he trudged toward the elevator.

Just a moment ago, he was prepared to kill her, now he aided her without a word. Limply clinging onto him, Sweetheart used every ounce of strength to lift her mace and hit the elevator button. No numbers, no floors, only UP.

Content with this possible false sense of security, Sweetheart’s eyes slipped shut in fatigue just as the doors did.

Chapter Text

Sweetheart woke to screams, curses and shouts. The sounds of shattered glass, bones crunching, and muffled cries of bloody murder. Amongst all that, she heard the gentle sound of a woman humming. It was a soothing comfort amidst the cacophony, a reprieve after the dreadful nightmare. Sweetheart felt like a small donut again, swathed in the care of her grandmothers’ doting affection. Warm, safe and loved. She wanted to stay like this, ignorant to the scary world out there.

“Marina, be careful! Molly, fall back! Both of you - agh!”

“Space Buddy, bro! Noooo!”

“Sisterhearts, don’t give up! We can…keep going…!”

Reluctantly, Sweetheart’s eyes opened. Those sounds became impossible to ignore, discernible and comprehensible. Voices were recognizable, tinged with strain and pain. Panic brimmed within her, a feeling that she just recently shed. Leading her to recall exactly what she was so afraid of.

“Black Space,” she muttered, blinking heavily.

“Oh, you’re awake,” said the sweet voice beside her. No longer humming, but still providing something of a comforting presence. “Don’t get up too fast.”

Having all her senses slowly return to her, Sweetheart was relieved to see she was no longer in that place. She was alive, she survived! Utterly ignoring the girl’s advice, she jerked up, recognizing the casino’s tacky decor instantly, a welcome sight after the horrors she endured. Although no one else was in the room with her - not the gator she brought back, not Rococo or Hero or even Barbracoa. Just her and the mysterious stranger who saved her.

“Who are you? What’s going on?” Sweetheart asked, gazing blearily at the black-haired girl tending to her wounds.

“I’m Mari. And…” She frowned, finding it difficult to answer the latter. “A lot.”

Her lack of a proper response sent a chill down Sweetheart’s spine. The din of fighting was louder now, making it all the more real. As much as she wanted to ignore it, a flash of fear shot through her. Not at the thought of her own safety, but her friends. The notion that she even considered them friends was a first for Sweetheart, but what was the point of all the trials if she didn’t learn something?

“Is everyone okay?” she asked.

She cared, and she couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Well, I hope so,” Mari said, glancing at the door. “I set up my picnic here for anyone injured to come and rest, but after Gator Grand dropped you off, I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Injured from…what?” She was almost afraid to ask. Did she accidentally bring the demons from Black Space with her when she escaped? Was this latest crisis her fault, again?

“Humphrey.”

Her heart dropped and a pit formed in her stomach at the utterance of that name. “Humphrey’s here?” Sweetheart asked quietly. It wasn’t Black Space, but it wasn’t much better either. Eyes distant, mind racing with why was this happening? and why now? she had no choice but to get to her feet. “My debt.” No more hiding, she had to face her problems head on. If that whale and those sea witches came here to collect their debt, then she’d meet them. “I’ll give them what I owe, and then some!” But weren’t they crying out for help too? Unable to figure out what the specifics were while resting in this room, Sweetheart had to find out for herself.

“Uh.” Mari looked lost but concerned. “Okay. But don’t push yourself!”

“It’s okay.” Truthfully, she meant it. She felt miles better since her time in Black Space. A nice nap and a big bandaid did wonders. Sipping an orange joe from the basket, Sweetheart said, “Thanks for everything, Mari.” She briefly realized that this was the girl Hero was infatuated with, and she could see why. She did deserve a painting. But first, Sweetheart had to make sure the painter, the client and everyone else in this casino was safe!

Ready to go, Sweetheart equipped her mace, eager to start swinging. But then she noticed something else. “Um,” picking at her gauze-wrapped thigh, she asked, “where’s my bandana?”

“Oh, that?” Mari’s face creased. “It was soaked with blood and ripped apart, so I just…discarded it.”

As if there couldn’t be any more bad news. Sweetheart’s lip twitched in a pout and her hands curled into fists, tightly gripping her mace. All she needed to do next was to stomp her foot and scream.

“Then I’ll just have to get another one. Ohohoho!” 

Temper tantrum aside, she belted out her signature laugh instead. This was how she operated in the past as duchess; if something got lost or ruined, it was the perfect excuse to go on a shopping spree. To order her sprout mole seamstresses to make something new, something better. 

Now she said that haughty reply with something else in mind. I’ll get another one when this whole mess is over with. I’ll find Capt. Spaceboy and go on space pirate adventures with him and get a new one.

Sweetheart sighed. Or maybe, perhaps, it simply served its purpose, therefore it was discarded as Mari said. Either way, Humphrey had to be dealt with. Rolling her shoulders back and holding her trusty mace, she walked forward on steady legs. “Okay, I understand. Thanks for the help, Mari. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Marching out of Jawsum’s - Hero’s - office, Sweetheart took the elevator down. It was a bit unnerving being back in an elevator, but this one was normal. Complete with its gaudy flair, tacky gold paint peeling off the sides and an orange joe stained carpet, it was comforting. She was no longer in the nightmare realm. Inhaling deeply, she had to get that through her head. To leave Black Space and its horrors behind.

Gator Good and Gator Great were dead.

Sweetheart held her mace tight and lifted her gaze, focusing intently on the elevator doors. There was nothing she could do for them now, but everything she could do to stop Humphrey.

The doors opened, giving way to chaos.

“Ack, bro! Grab my hand!”

“No dude, it’s too late for me…”

“H U N G R Y!!!!”

Yells, screams and cries welcomed Sweetheart once she reached the ground floor. Accompanied with a discordant arrangement of crashes, bashes and broken whines of slot machines, she stepped out carefully. The very first thing she saw was the massive whale causing it all, thrashing about and swallowing anything he could.

Humphrey was her true debt collector.

“Space Dude!” Without thinking, Sweetheart ran over and reached for the fallen penguin, pulling him back just before he was turned into a meal. She had help though, as Capt. Spaceboy grabbed Space Dude’s other arm. “Captain? What are you doing here? What are all of you doing here?”

“No time for explanations!” he yelled over the noise, dropping Space Dude off with the other battered penguins in their protective huddle. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, though, Sweetheart,” he said before taking off, shooting at Humphrey and taking cover.

“Um, me too.” She blinked, staring after him, missing that bandana all the more.

“I can’t believe Sweetheart of all people rescued me, dude,” Space Dude mumbled, still hanging on.

“Yeah bro.” Space Bro stuck by his side, applying emergency first-aid. “Let’s just say it was only the Captain who pulled you back.”

“I agree with that.” Sweetheart shot the pair a withering smile. “Can’t go ruining my reputation now, right?”

Despite her scary look, one penguin space pirate from the huddle rushed in for a hug. “Capt. Spaceheart, buddy! You came back for us all!”

“Oh, Space Buddy.” Sweetheart readily reciprocated the embrace. Incredibly fond of this penguin now, she patted his head gently. “I’m glad you’re okay! Relatively.” She winced, as he too was covered in bumps, scrapes and cuts. “But um.” Glancing around, as much as she enjoyed this little reunion, the captain and his crew weren’t the ones she came looking for. “Where’s Hero?”

“Oh, Omori’s friend? He’s probably still fighting the whale. He was a little scary, buddy.”

Looking back at the whale that was now thrashing about and ransacking the far corner of the casino, Sweetheart couldn’t see him, most likely obscured by Humphrey’s large body. And the large number of other fighters surrounding him, being a horde of sprout moles, her clones and even the Slime Girls. “Oho, is he? Well, I’m scarier!” she yelled as she charged at the whale. She had no time to think about it, just to raise her mace and fight alongside them!

Smacking it into his side as she ran around, she liked to think she was at least doing some damage. However her efforts were wasted; there was barely a scratch on his body, let alone bloodshed. The only blood that seemed to be shedding was from stray sprout mole limbs getting crunched and severed by Humphrey’s jaws. Sweetheart winced as they got flung about haphazardly, having never stood a chance.

But they were trying.

“Hero!” Finding her former - if extremely brief - crush amongst the rabble fighting back, she nearly crashed into him out of urgency. “I’m back! The clams, quickly!”

He only spared her a cursory glance before focusing all his attention back on Humphrey. “Think youse can get away with trashing my casino, huh? Cough up the clams or pay with your life, chump!”

“What? Why do you sound like that creep Jawsum?” Sweetheart screeched. “Just give me the clams to give to the sea witches so they can give it to this sea slug! Then he’ll…” she trailed off, her whines falling on deaf ears. But really, it was because her statement wouldn’t ring true.

Faltering, Sweetheart stepped back and took in the sight. Truly absorbed just how Humphrey was trashing the casino, eating up every measly contract Hero threw his way. But most noticeably…

Every clam in his path was ingested, not slowing his rampage down one bit.

“The clams didn’t matter.” Sweetheart sank to her knees. “The clams never mattered. My debt…”

All that manic drive to survive vanished in mere seconds. All her efforts from the past three months amounted to nothing.

“Sweetheart!”

It was all.

“Sweetheart, help!”

A waste.

“SWEETHEART!”

That loud shock jolted her back to the present. Dimly, the light returned to her eyes, and she looked in the direction of the scream.

WHACK!

Just in time to see Capt. Spaceboy get flung across the gambling hall.

“What?” Those eyes widened as she watched, prompting her to get to her feet. “Captain?”

“H U N G R Y!”

Humphrey’s reverberating roar silenced her cry, as well as any other shouts of distress. But Sweetheart didn’t need to hear them to know. They were losing.

And that pissed her off.

“No…NO!” Sweetheart screamed. “You don’t get to win! Not after everything I went through!” Teeth grinding, she was starved for a thrashing herself. Humphrey could go ahead and gorge everything in sight and not be satiated; Sweetheart would match that energy with her bloodthirst.

“OHOHOHOHO!”

It’s been so long, too long since she utterly let loose like this. To lose all sense of self and toss all those pesky morals to the wayside. This was better. This was easier. This was.

SPLAT.

Wrong.

Tearing away from the spot on Humphrey’s skin that she was hacking away at - and barely even grazing - Sweetheart witnessed more havoc by his maw. Snapping and swallowing everything he could, sprout moles got devoured left and right. The sounds they made were blood curdling, perhaps it would’ve thrilled her in the past. Instead, it stopped her in her tracks and sent spikes of fear through her. Her relentless swings slowing, she grasped the bigger picture.

This wasn’t about her.

“Wait.” Withdrawing her mace, Sweetheart responded differently to the horror before her. No longer cowering nor charging at will, she observed Humphrey with rational thought as opposed to emotional outrage.

“H U N G R Y.”

“Hungry,” she repeated. “It’s that simple. Humphrey’s hungry!”

“No shit, dude!” Space Dude said as he raced by, back on his feet.

“Why else would this be happening, bro?” Space Bro wasn’t far behind.

Sweetheart and the pair flashed gestures before moving on. Ironically though, a sense of normalcy warmed her from that silly interaction.

“Sweetheart!”

More so when Capt. Spaceboy limped her way, supported by Rococo and the rest of the space pirates. In this time of calamity, she didn’t question the fact that her exes were not only now acquainted, but supporting each other.

“Captain! Rococo! You’re all okay!”

“Yeah, buddy,” Space Buddy wheezed, bruised and battered but standing strong. “Still here.”

“Not eaten alive yet,” Rococo said, sadness in his tone as he looked on to witness the sprout mole slaughter with her. “This is…”

“Avoidable,” Sweetheart finished. Things were dismal but she wasn’t going to let it end with Rococo capturing their demise in a painting of blood. “No more sprout moles or anyone else will die. We just have to stop fighting.” Attaching her mace back on her belt, she said, “And start feeding.”

“Um, what’s the difference, mate?” Space Mate asked.

“Isn’t that what Humphrey’s already doing, amiga?” Space Amigo added.

“No,” she huffed. “Just take a look yourselves!” They all watched Hero, the Hearts, the sprout moles and the Slime Girls fight in vain. Most managed to weather their injuries and evade fatal blows, but the sprout moles were too weak and too slow to fall back in time, getting devoured mercilessly. “Everyone’s too focused on fighting; that’s not a strategy! That’s why we’re losing!”

“She’s right,” Capt. Spaceboy coughed, still heavily leaning on Rococo. “Look how badly I turned out from shooting too close.” With a sheepish expression, he held out his arm, exposing the tattered cloth and gashes underneath. “Tried to nab his eye and he almost took out my arm instead.”

“Well, I for one am glad you’re still in one piece and not dissolving in stomach acid,” Sweetheart said softly, also making light of a very grim situation.

“Only the sprout moles are slow enough to suffer that fate, pal,” Space Pal said flatly. “And stray debris.”

“Exactly!” Sweetheart whipped her head, her pigtails flying. “Humphrey just wants to eat. It’s all he ever wants - the sprout moles are just collateral damage.” She winced at her careless wording. “What I mean is, Humphrey is hangry. He doesn’t care what it is, right now he just wants to eat.”

“I see.” Rococo watched the scrambling sprout moles attempt to evade Humphrey’s never ending appetite. The Slime Girls, the Hearts and Hero were all still giving it their all too. “So we should focus our efforts on destroying him on the inside rather than the outside?”

“Um, kind of?” Sweetheart thought back to her days as Sweepheart, and just how massive the inside of that whale was. “Actually, no. We’re just trying to make him full to stop his rampage.” Having had enough talk, Sweetheart broke off from the group and raced toward the huge hangry whale, bravely facing him head on. “Just throw anything you can inside!” she yelled. It wasn’t the best plan, but what other choice was there? It was feed or get fed.

“Well, if you say so. Tally-ho!”

“HUH?”

To Sweetheart’s surprise, she lost her center of gravity as she was scooped into the air. A horde of sprout moles worked together to lift her up, carrying her closer to Humphrey’s gaping maw.

And promptly tossed her in.

Chapter Text

Darkness enveloped Sweetheart once again. FEAR jabbed her chest like a physical thing, making her curl into a ball as she plummeted to the bottom. Sweetheart wanted to scream. Shout, yell, curse, cry. But her mind went blank with terror, rendering her mute. She was back here, trapped in the body of a whale.

She escaped once, surely she could again?

“Agh!” Making contact with the ground, it didn’t hurt her as much as it should. Scrambling to her feet with shaky legs and equipping her mace with trembling arms, she knew that the painful part was still to come.

“Nyuk-nyuk!”

Humphrey buds swarmed her, attempting to close in and carry her deeper within. Not to any abandoned laboratories or experimental sites - those were long gone. Swallowed whole and devoured by one hungry whale, eradicated and dissolved in his stomach.

Right where they wanted to take Sweetheart.

“No!” she screamed. “Get away from me!” She kicked. “You won’t take me alive!” She maced. Swung in a wide arc, it gave her some breathing room. Enough to realize that this was a hopeless endeavor.

With every bud she knocked away, more took its place. Angry, loud and aggressive, they clustered at a faster speed.

“NYUK-NYUK!”

It was like deja vu, getting surrounded and attacked like this. Like when the sprout moles revolted at her castle - what a distant memory at this point. But the bites, bruises and stings were all reminders of what could have become of her if she hadn’t escaped.

Sweetheart wasn’t going to win this fight.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, just shy of crying. “AAAAAHHHHH!!!” Charging through throngs of bloodthirsty Humphrey buds, Sweetheart made it to the wall. They snapped, chomped, and headbutted her, but she was determined to survive. After everything, everything, she went through on her journey, just to meet her end here? She might as well have never left!

“No,” she muttered, scaling the wall with grit. Powering through the pain, fighting off the fatigue and staying alive in spite of the odds, Sweetheart wasn’t about to succumb. Not like this.

THUMP! THUMP THUMP THUMP!

But then she lost her balance.

“Eeeek!” Getting knocked down by a slew of falling objects, Sweetheart landed back down with the masses. Thankfully her fall was cushioned, so she didn’t sustain any more damage. Discovering just what softened her landing, though, made her skin crawl.

A multitude of sprout mole bodies were strewn all over the floor. And underneath her.

“Mmph!” Hand flying to her mouth, Sweetheart scrambled off them. Their vacant eyes and crushed bodies told her they were no longer alive. Not that this was the first time she’s seen sprout mole cadavers. They had filled the cells in her dungeon in droves. A rotting, deteriorating, mass grave.

It never bothered her before, but now, as their corpses rained down and around her, she wanted to hurl. Ducking her head and gingerly stepping over and around the bodies, Sweetheart shuddered. Her resolve crumbled in an instant.

The Humphrey buds weren’t voraciously chasing after her now that a feast was bestowed upon them. Picking up their carcasses and happily carrying them farther in, they threw them in to be devoured. Dissolved in Humphrey’s stomach acid, skin peeled and flesh burned away until even the bones sank. Sweetheart could do nothing but watch the grisly scene unfold before her.

Knowing that she was next.

FEAR came back with a vengeance. Internally cursing herself, she should’ve taken advantage of the distraction and escaped! Even so, her feet were rooted in place, her mind was blank and her gaze unfocused. Sweetheart froze.

“Nyuk-nyuk!”

It was like they were laughing at her. And why shouldn’t they? It was quite comical from start to finish. Sweetheart tried so hard, so hard, to do the right thing. To repair broken bridges and repay her debt. And yet look where that got her? All that time and effort to do better amounted to nothing. Nothing but a delayed death sentence.

“So that’s it then, huh?” Sweetheart said hollowly, letting the buds pick her up this time. They joyously marched along with her on top, almost reminiscent of her duchess days. Getting paraded around by her sprout mole servants…Sweetheart sighed loudly at the memory. Led to her doom, she shut her eyes, laid back and got comfortable. It would be over soon. And frankly, she was over it.

ZAP!

“SWEETHEART!”

ZAP! ZAP ZAP ZAP!

Laser beams whizzed by, disturbing her unpeaceful rest. “Agh!” Sweetheart got knocked to the ground as the buds that were carrying her burned and shriveled up from their blasts. It didn’t take long to find the source. “Captain?” Something similar to a laser zapped her heart when she saw Capt. Spaceboy, but not in a good way. FEAR reared its ugly head again, except a million times worse.

That fear she felt was for another.

“They threw you in too?” Shoving aside injured buds, she made her way to him. “Who did it? The sprout moles? Or was it the Slime Girls? My clones?”

“No one threw me in, Sweetheart.” Taking a second to stop firing, he looked at her with laughter dancing in his visible eye. “I jumped in myself.” With love swimming under the surface; old love made new again.

Sweetheart thought he was an idiot. “Why would you do that?!” she screamed, forced to take her mace back out and bash some approaching Humphrey buds. “Do you want to die too?”

“No!” Shooting over her shoulder, he said, “Do you?”

“I…!” Don’t, she wanted to say. But hadn’t she thrown the towel already? Until Capt. Spaceboy showed up, she’d all but given up. Their silence was loud amidst the cacophony. A hot wave of embarrassment flushed her face. “I’m tired!” she cried out.

“I know.” Capt. Spaceboy grabbed her hand and made a break for it. “That’s why I’m here!”

Running with him, now Sweetheart felt like the idiot. “You didn’t have to,” she mumbled.

“I wanted to.” Guns holstered, he hoisted himself up to scale the whale’s insides. Holding his hand out to her, he said, “So, wanna get outta here?”

He didn’t have to ask her twice. “Yes!” After so much mental pendulum swinging between good and bad, selfish and selfless, life and death, Sweetheart was done thinking. She just wanted to do. Kicking the growing horde of Humprey buds away, she took his hand. With his boost, she began the high climb once again.

Now with Capt. Spaceboy at her side.

“What was that about killing a whale?” He forced a laugh. “Yeah, I totally get why you said the plan wouldn’t work and left. You know, back at my place.”

Other than the recent chaos in the casino, dancing around in Capt. Spaceboy’s spaceship was the last time the two of them talked. Talked of plans to kill a whale and go on more space pirate adventures after that. Until, of course, Sweetheart decided to break his heart again like clockwork. “Yeah,” she echoed. “It wouldn’t - isn’t - working.” Except her heart wasn’t exactly whole either after that encounter. 

“Tell me about it,” he grunted, climbing up after her, bad arm and all. “But that’s not the real reason why you left, is it?”

Sweetheart stopped climbing. Even without looking at him, she could hear the desperation in his voice. Feel the hope in his tone. The beating of that broken heart of his. “It’s not.” She couldn’t lie anymore. Not to him, and not to herself. Glancing over her shoulder, her own began beating fast. “I left because-”

“Nyuk-nyuk!”

THUMP!

But maybe now wasn’t the best time for a heart-to-heart. Right below them, Humphrey buds eagerly headbutted the wall while others managed to start scaling it up.

“Agh!” Capt. Spaceboy almost lost his grip. “You okay, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she said, but it wouldn’t be for long if they didn’t hurry. “Captain, come on!” She knew he gave her that head start, but couldn’t he climb a bit faster?

Literally doing the opposite of what she asked, Capt. Spaceboy stopped climbing and pulled out his gun, shooting the incoming buds. “Keep going! I’ll hold them back!”

“Captain, you…!” Biting her tongue, Sweetheart could never argue with him when he was being his stupid, chivalrous, savior self. Instead, a better, miraculous idea popped into her head. “My clam!” Having completely forgotten about it throughout everything, Sweetheart dug into her pocket and retrieved it. The one clam she’s held onto since practically the beginning of her journey. Old, dirty and sticky with lemonade, it shouldn’t matter to Humphrey, right? That whale was ravenous, eating anything that entered his mouth. So real food should solve that! 

“Eat this, you hangry, clam-grubby whale!” With all her might, Sweetheart chucked the clam. It sailed past the chomping buds, over the decaying sprout mole bodies, and plopped perfectly into Humphrey’s stomach acid.

It dissolved seamlessly.

“Nyuk-nyuk!”

The Humphrey buds resumed their charge, hungrier than ever. Sweetheart threw her head back and cried out, “Why did I think that would work?”

“Don’t give up, Sweetheart!” Capt. Spaceboy yelled. “Keep climbing! I’ve got this!” Then he did the unthinkable.

He let go.

Dropping into the center of the Humphrey bud swarm, he disappeared from view. All of him, even the tips of his headphones vanished from sight.

“Captain!” she screamed. Her heart froze over as her eyes searched frantically. He was so utterly surrounded and submerged, she couldn’t even catch a glimpse. The Humphrey buds scaling the wall slid down to join the others, adding to the sea drowning Spaceboy. “CAPTAIN!”

“NYAK!”

A laser powered blast rocked the swarm, sending Humphrey buds flying. Capt. Spaceboy emerged from the fray, dual wielding his guns. “I told you,” he shouted, “don’t worry about me!”

Sweetheart’s relief was short-lived. For every bud he blasted, two more sprung up. Clustering around him and clinging to him, he could only shoot so many.

“Get out of here, Sweetheart!” he continued to yell, weaker now. “Go!”

Despite the dismal situation, he kept playing the martyr to perfection. Even when they bit his arms and knocked his guns away, he kept fighting. Punching and kicking until his limbs were pinned back too, he continued with his senseless drivel. Picked up and carried by the buds on his way to get dissolved like Sweetheart’s measly clam, Capt. Spaceboy only cared about one thing. Or rather one person.

Catching Sweetheart’s eye and smiling through the pain, he said, “You’re almost there, my sweet jelly-filled donut. Get out of here, go home to your grandmas. And…take care of the crew for me.”

Oh, she’s had enough of this whaleshit.

“CAPT. SPACEBOY YOU IDIOT!!!”

Almost at the opening, it’d be easy to slip out of Humphrey’s mouth and make her escape. To step all over her ex and make use of his sacrifice. Laughing ohohohoho! all the way to her bedroom in her extravagant castle.

Except she wasn’t that Sweetheart anymore.

“Captain, you dummy!” Letting go of her high vantage point, she dropped down into the horde. “Captain, you fool!” Swinging her mace with abandon, she made a large enough path to reach him. “Don’t tell me what to do!” she screamed and gave one last good swing, sending the surrounding buds soaring, temporarily freeing him from their clutches. Despite her bravado and grand entrance, Sweetheart knew it was a losing battle. But it wasn’t about winning, or even surviving anymore. She just wanted to reach Spaceboy.

Flick!

And smack the martyr right out of him. Even if it meant sealing her fate alongside his.

“Sweetheart…!” Capt. Spaceboy’s hand flew to his forehead as his eye blinked in shock. Too stunned to be upset and too tired to move. “You…” They stayed right where they were, sitting ducks for the inevitable. “You came back.”

“Of course, you idiot space captain!” She was tempted to flick his forehead again, but she ended up throwing her arms around him instead. “And I’m the one who should be saying that about you: you came back. After everything I said in Otherworld…you really are an idiot, Captain!”

He merely chuckled. “Then we’re both idiots.” Reciprocating her embrace, he looked toward the vat of bubbling stomach acid. “Two very dead idiots, soon enough.” His expression read placid, perhaps he was content with this fate now that Sweetheart was in his arms and by his side.

And as much as she was ready to accept this ending too, his complacency pissed her off. “We’re not dying, you idiot captain!” So out of stubborn spite, she simply had to survive. They both had to.

And suddenly it hit her: one last strategy.

Wresting his gun from a stunned bud, Sweetheart aimed and fired. Right into Humphrey’s stomach.

“Sweetheart, what are you…?”

“We were wasting our time fighting the buds when really we should’ve put all our effort on this!” Shooting like crazy, a rabid mania took over her. “Making Humphrey sick!”

Rococo was right back then; they should’ve been focusing all their efforts on destroying Humphrey from the inside. Escape was possible, but it wouldn’t solve the problem. His outer body was too resilient to succumb to their strikes, and his appetite seemed insatiable. Nothing else to it than to try and give that whale the stomachache of his life!

ZAP! ZAP ZAP ZAP!

Catching on, Capt. Spaceboy snapped out of it and followed suit. Kicking the Humphrey bud that had his other gun, he added firepower. Bright red laser beams popped and bubbled in his stomach acid, causing slight rumbles. “Sweetheart!” he yelled over the din of the angry chomping buds. “Let me shoot at Humphrey! You take care of the buds!”

Nodding, she handed Spaceboy his other gun and equipped her trusty ol’ mace. They were too concerned with escaping to realize the way out was right in front of them. “Ohohoho!” The best strategy of all was doing what she always does: swing her mace all over the place! Channeling all her energy on destruction rather than running away produced more results. It was that simple.

Everything hurt the most from the inside.

“Nyuk-NYAK!”

Humphrey’s stomach rumbled, gurgled and groaned. A loud whale whine of discomfort shook his entire body. An upset stomach was a surefire way to freedom!

“NYAK-NYAK!”

“AAAAGH!”

If a disgusting one. Hanging onto each other, Sweetheart and Capt. Spaceboy rode out the wave of whale bile. Getting thrown up with the rest of his half-digested food, bodies and just plain inedible things, Sweetheart was glad to be on solid ground again. Under harsh lights and atop a brightly colored casino floor, a rush of relief washed over her. They were alive, they survived!

“Tummy…ACHE…” Humphrey groaned, his hangry attitude dissolved into pain and fatigue. The hunger-induced rampage came to a hard stop and he abandoned his endeavors. Wriggling out and away from the Last Resort, those that were still alive were glad to see him go.

Sweetheart was one of those lucky few, amongst a sea of dead, chewed up and spit out sprout moles.

She collapsed, the utter exhaustion of her entire journey catching up to her. Hunting clams, enduring Black Space and fighting Humphrey… Sweetheart was done. She was finally done. The fervor and excitement of surviving dulled as her eyes slipped shut. Too tired to partake in the cheers of celebration erupting around her, all she craved was a good, long rest.

“Sweetheart!”

Slipping into slumber at the comforting sound of Capt. Spaceboy’s voice, she finally felt that she could.

Chapter Text

Cheap lighting greeted Sweetheart when she came to after passing out. It wasn’t a heavenly bright light nor a suffocating darkness, but a familiar tackiness. Accompanied with stained carpeting and gaudy wallpaper, she recognized it immediately.

The Last Resort Casino, Jawsum’s office.

Sweetheart sat up grunting, her entire body aching like she got hit by a bus. Or swallowed by a whale. But she was whole. She was awake, alive, and maybe, quite possibly-

“Oh, you’re up! Thank goodness.”

Debt-free.

Dizzily, she turned her head to the sound of the voice, her body tilting forward in a sway. “You again?” It was that picnic girl who helped her earlier, Mari. Deja vu hit Sweetheart strongly. “Did you…?”

“Oh, no worries.” Mari politely waved her off. “My picnic blanket is open to everyone. You don’t owe me or anything.” Her phrasing caused Sweetheart to stiffen, which made her laugh slyly. “And besides, I really like that painting Hero commissioned from you and your friend.” With a knowing smile, she gathered up her blanket and basket. “I’ll let everyone know you’re awake. Don’t get too overwhelmed, you’re quite popular.” With another light laugh, the girl was gone.

Before she could even process what she said, the doors burst open.

“SWEETHEART!”

In came a breathless Capt. Spaceboy, crowded with his crew.

“YOU!”

Plus the Slime Girls, still with an axe - or chainsaw - to grind.

“Sisterheart!”

And her insufferable clones, piling in with nothing but sickeningly sweet intentions.

“Sweetheart!”

Followed by Hero - who was thankfully back to normal - and Rococo - who was still unselfishly concerned for her.

“Ex-duchess Sweetheart!”

Lastly, the lone batch of surviving sprout moles squeezed inside the packed office.

Sweetheart stared dumbly at the growing mishmosh in front of her. What was that word that Mari said? Overwhelmed was an understatement. “Um. What?”

“Humphrey may have retreated, but your debt is still unpaid!” Marina snarled, both Molly and Medusa quick on her tentacle heels to back her up.

“I beg to differ!” Rococo came to her rescue, shoving a sum of clams at the Slime Girls. “Here!”

Caught in a whirlwind of actions and reactions, Sweetheart found it tiring to even keep up with this endless argument. But Rococo, as much as she put him through all these years, still came through for her.

“You’re short.”

Almost.

At Medusa’s clipped tone, Sweetheart snapped out of her daze and jerked back to reality With a sinking feeling, her memory took her back to Black Space. Back to looking for the gator guys and only finding one alive. What a long day it was.

Made even longer by the outcome of that mission.

She failed. She only brought back one of the three missing gators. Which meant…

“Um, I…!” Sweetheart’s voice caught. After all that, after everything, this was how it was going to end? Short on her debt and forced back into a servitude of sweeping? Sweepheart?? “NO!” she screamed. Finding her voice, she was gearing up to throw the biggest temper tantrum of her life. “You can’t make me!!” Or even fight to the death if she had to. 

“Sweetheart!” Except Hero - ever the hero - got in between her mace and the sea witch’s chainsaw. “It’s okay. Gator Grand told me what happened.” His gaze dropped. “He left with Barbracoa…” Hero trailed off, a heavy cloud hovering over them both. Not like the fear-inducing effects of Black Space, but a thing of mourning. “It was out of your hands. I know you tried as much as you could, but,” he shook his head and straightened, “you shouldn’t be faulted for what was out of your control. And you did bring Gator Grand back.” Facing the Slime Girls, he handed over a hefty sack. “So here’s fifty thousand clams, as part of the deal.”

Marina snatched the bag while Sweetheart was still processing it. “Really?” she squeaked out, while Medusa started counting it.

Hero nodded.

Sweetheart didn’t know what to say. Was this real? Rococo’s kindness and now Hero’s generosity…it felt like something for nothing. Too good to be true.

But wasn’t that the point?

“You’re short.” Medusa said again, freezing over that warm and fuzzy feeling. “By one clam.” Her gaze rose, merciless. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about the broken broom.”

“I can cover that!”

Before Sweetheart could even contest the absurdity of her claim, Capt. Spaceboy pushed his way through to shove a clam in Medusa’s face. “Here, take it! Now leave her alone!”

Just like that, the fuzzy feeling was back, this time with a thousand little pyreflies lighting up inside her. “Captain…” It was just one clam, this was hardly a big deal. Hell, if she were to go down to the main floor of the casino, she was sure to find more than a few discarded clams in the wake of Humphrey’s destruction.

And yet, this meant so much to her.

“Well, looks like it’s all here, darling,” Molly said, looking over Medusa’s shoulder. At her sister’s nod, she said the magic words. “Your debt is paid off, dear.”

With that casual remark, it was finally over. Sweetheart was free at last. She almost didn’t know what to do with herself; the rush of relief, gratitude and fatigue muddled her mind and gave her a late reaction.

“Yay, sister!”

Suddenly smothered by a flurry of pink, she didn’t need to react when others did for her.

“I knew you could do it!” Perfectheart positively beamed, throwing her arms around her. Roboheart and Mutantheart were quick to follow suit, creating a bubbly blob of pink between the four of them.

“Oh?” Sweetheart was caught off guard by her clones’ suffocating hug attack, but she found herself not fighting back. Welcoming it even, this undeserved act of sisterly love. “I mean, ohohoho! Of course I’d be able to do it!” Glancing over their shoulders, her eyes met Hero’s and Rococo’s. And then settled on Capt. Spaceboy, who’s been on her side through all of this since practically the first day to the very last. “With a little help.” Pulling back from the hug, she couldn’t deny her clones’ part in this either. Even if the debt did arise because of their existence, it was her own choices that led her down this path. Despite all her gripes and misgivings, these clones - these sisterhearts - have been nothing but kind to her. “Thanks, you guys. And…thanks for giving me back my mace all those months ago.”

Perfectheart shined that perfect smile of hers and made a heart with her hands. “Of course, sister!”

“What a pulchritudinous face…” a sprout mole murmured, utterly captivated by Perfectheart. In fact, all the surviving sprout moles were completely and totally stunned speechless by Perfectheart’s mere presence. They all pushed and nudged their way to the front to bask in her glory, staring in awe.

A tiny, very miniscule pang of jealousy assaulted Sweetheart, but it was better than being chased down with torches and pitchforks. A stray thought popped into her head: maybe she could get Perfectheart to put in a good word for her and she could reclaim her castle! Except…

Sweetheart’s gaze traveled farther, beyond the mass of moles. Beyond those servants whom she had called her adoring fans, she looked at her two exes: Capt. Spaceboy and Rococo. It hit her then; that big castle and obnoxious lifestyle didn’t appeal to her anymore.

“Attention, sprout mole minions!” At her commanding call, they snapped to attention, most likely by habit. But this would be her last command. “From this day forward, you will now serve my sister Perfectheart. If you are willing, and if she accepts.” Facing that clone she just called her sister, Sweetheart said softly, “If you will become duchess and lead the sprout moles?”

It instead became Sweetheart putting a good word in for Perfectheart. For a second it felt odd, giving away her domain, her title, her status and her life as she knew it for the past couple of decades or so.

But the second passed and she was over it.

“I’d love that, sister!”

The sprout moles erupted in cheers at her acceptance, already bowing down and bleating things of worship, loyalty and pulchritudinous faces. But Sweetheart wasn’t finished yet.

“And, Rococo?” she called out, almost timidly. He straightened, surprised to suddenly be brought into this. “Since you’ve, ah, spent the most time in the castle, could you stand by Perfectheart to help her settle in?”

Perfectheart herself was readily agreeable, making heart-hands at Rococo. He, however, sidled up to Sweetheart’s side with a suspicious look. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t question your blessings!” she hissed, then straightened. “I’m holding up my end of the deal, okay? This is me making it up to you!”

“Hmm.” He took his sweet time weighing the validity of her statement, purposely making her squirm. “Will there be tofu?”

“Um.” Sweetheart faltered. “Sprout moles love their tofu, so yeah. But they can hide it upon your presence!”

“Hyohehyohehyohehyo! I jest, Sweetheart. I accept your proposal; I will stand by Perfectheart’s reign.” While Perfectheart and the moles cheered, Rococo leaned close and peered at her. “You really have changed, Sweetheart.”

A ferocious blush bludgeoned her face. “So you accept! But of course you would, ohohoho!” Her haughty laugh and arrogant attitude was forced, making it all the more easier for her ex to tease her. “Ugh, anyway!” Pointedly looking away from him, she doled out more peace-keeping propositions. “Roboheart, Mutantheart? Will you join Perfectheart in her reign?” They instantly made gestures of approval, accepting without question. Those three had an inseparable bond, there was no way she would split them up. In that sense, it reminded her of another donut trio…

“Also after you all get settled in, maybe you’d like to meet my grandmothers? They get lonely sometimes, and I’m not home a lot anymore, so I think they’d love to have you.”

“And we’d love to have them!” Perfectheart was bursting with joy. “A great big family of hearts!”

Strangely enough, Sweetheart liked the sound of that. Her casual words of love and unity made her heart swell, whereas she probably would’ve been a wild and raving jealous mess in the past. Temper tantrums, cruel threats and death sentences.

Sweetheart was so over it.

“Yeah, a big family.” She managed to smile back. Now that that was all done and settled, there was just one more matter to address. One more person. “Um, Capt. Spaceboy-”

“Okay, this is great and all, I’m so happy for you,” Marina cut her off. “But just cuz you paid up doesn’t mean the crisis of a murderous, destructive, hangry whale is resolved!”

Sweetheart was so, so over it. “What do you mean? Humphrey left.”

“Yeah, for now,” Medusa said darkly, triple counting the clams. “But what about later? When that stomachache wears off?”

“What my sisters are saying, darling,” Molly sighed, “is that these clams can only hold Humphrey back for so long.”

“And how is that my problem?”

“It’s everyone’s problem. Don’t you see how much destruction he caused?” Marina screeched.

“So it shouldn’t just be up to us to keep his hunger at bay,” Medusa pointed out.

“So how about it?” Molly gave a little pout. “Will you help us?”

“Um.” Sweetheart stalled to answer. The Slime Girls made a convincing argument, but what could she do to help? Both her mind and body were utterly exhausted, she drew a blank.

“Why don’t we all periodically make offerings?” Hero - always the hero - suggested. “Whenever you have clams to spare, offer it to Humphrey. I’ll do my share as well.”

“So like a charity, bro?” Space Bro asked.

“Yeah, dude. A charity to save our lives!” Space Dude smacked his best friend.

“We’ll help,” Perfectheart readily agreed with her sisterhearts. All the sprout moles echoed her sentiment.

“I will contribute as well.” Rococo nodded firmly.

“Same here,” Capt. Spaceboy said. “Me and my crew will do what we can.” It was evident not all members of the crew were as willing, but none spoke against their captain.

It was then that Sweetheart realized everyone volunteered. They all committed to this selfless endeavor to keep the world safe. She was the last to speak.

All eyes landed on her.

Never mind the 100,000 clam debt she just paid off, now she was to be indebted for the rest of her life? And to smile and nod, simply be okay with that?

Capt. Spaceboy held out his hand. “Up for some more clam-hunting, space pirate adventures, Sweetheart?”

Yeah, she was okay with that.

“Ohohoho! That’s Capt. Spaceheart to you!” It was beyond bizarre, but accepting this utterly unfair deal, this lifetime of clam-gathering for someone not her, and for the greater good at that. This work she was so unused to. “Lead the way, Captain!”

She didn’t mind, not one bit.

~ ~ ~

Hopping aboard Capt. Spaceboy’s spaceship was beginning to feel habitual, a familiar comfort. Except Sweetheart didn’t strut around the ship like a spoiled girlfriend or a stuck-up wife. This time, she moved as co-captain.

“Why are we at your castle, buddy?”

And as co-captain, the first stop before taking off on an expedition of endless clam-gathering was her old abode.

“Because she changed her mind, bro,” Space Bro answered Space Buddy.

“Yeah dude, ‘generous’ and ‘charitable’ aren’t words that mix with Sweetheart,” Space Dude quipped from beside his best bro.

Coming up behind them, Sweetheart gently placed one hand on each of their heads. Making them still in unspoken terror, she smiled. “There’s just one little thing I want to do before we set off, okay?” she told Space Buddy, who nodded. He was the best of the bunch in her opinion, always seeing the good in her and not doubting her decisions. She patted his head affectionately as opposed to threateningly with the other two. “So sit tight, I’ll be right back!”

“Mind if I come with?” Capt. Spaceboy was leaning against the doorframe, trying to appear casual and failing.

“Ohohoho,” Sweetheart laughed softly. “Of course, Captain.”

He instantly lit up. “Great! So,” he held out a hand, “let’s go! The sooner you do whatever it is you have to do, the sooner we can start our space pirate adventures. Together.” He was utterly enamored with her once again, but it wasn’t quite the shallow lovesickness from their past.

Hand in hand, there were qualities in their relationship they had now that just wasn’t possible before. Equality. Understanding. Trust.

And true love.

Almost dying together definitely sent those feelings into overdrive, but they were already blooming since the beginning of her journey. Since Capt. Spaceboy first extended a hand to help her out with her debt. Since Sweetheart first did something selfless and returned his heart. A shift occurred between them both.

“Did you…want to come back here to stay, Sweetheart?”

Walking along the familiar castle halls and decadent walls, Sweetheart held that hand tight. “I’ll miss the rose garden,” she murmured, “but no. I didn’t want to come here to stay. This duchess has given up her crown in exchange for a pirate bandana.” She held up her wrist, admiring and showing off the new one he gave her.

Capt. Spaceboy’s heart fluttered. “That’s good to hear, I’m glad.” He played it off cool, but squeezed her hand all the same. “So are we here because you wanted to help settle in Perfectheart and Rococo?”

Sweetheart shook her head. “No, she doesn’t need my help. Perfectheart’s a natural. She’s, well, perfect. And Rococo…” she trailed off, looking ahead. “I hope those two work out.”

“Oh?” He gazed at her curiously, but didn’t press any further. “I hope so too.” Not an ounce of jealousy; it was refreshing, actually.

And it was true. He had nothing to be jealous of. Sweetheart would always have her history with Rococo and retain some complex feelings, but she wanted nothing more than to be Capt. Spaceboy’s co-captain for life.

“So, what are we doing here, then, Sweetheart?”

Stopping at the hidden stairwell deep in the southwest wing, she let go of his hand. “For this.”

Capt. Spaceboy didn’t even know this was here. But he supposed every castle had at least one secret passage. “Oh, okay. What is this?”

Instead of answering him, she leaned up and swiftly pressed a soft kiss to his unsuspecting cheek. “I have to do the rest by myself. But wait for me, okay? I won’t be long.”

Not letting her get away so fast, he pulled her close. “If you’re not back up here in five minutes, I’m running down there.”

“Okay.” Warmth spread throughout her heart; this protective side of Spaceboy always charmed her.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” To seal the deal, she gave him another kiss. A proper one this time, not rushed and in the midst of running away. It was slow and full of certainty. Sensitive and soothing. Everything will be okay. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” she teased. She left the space captain absolutely smitten, giving her the perfect opportunity to escape. Blowing him a final kiss, Sweetheart turned away and descended down.

Down the dark stairwell into the depths of this secret secluded corridor. It would frighten most, but after Black Space, she didn’t scare easily anymore. Besides, she had nothing to be afraid of.

And everything to be grateful for.

“Hi, Keeper. I’m back.”

Sweetheart strode inside the hidden room in the corner, where the Keeper of the Castle resided. They curled curiously at her arrival, yet their unflinching, eerie expression remained unchanged. “Oh…? So she is.”

“Not to stay.” Not that Sweetheart found it eerie anymore. That was just the way they were. “I’m leaving this castle in the care of…my sister of sorts. So take care of her, okay? The same way you took care of me.”

“...oh? Is that so?”

“It is. And well, that’s all I wanted to say! So,” she spun on her heel, "oh, wait, there is one little thing.” Glancing over her shoulder, Sweetheart smiled and said, “Thanks, Keeper.”

“Oh?” The Keeper of the Castle twisted again, watching the poor girl from the desert leave, off to her next adventure. “Ohohohohoho!”