Work Text:
String Gummy was having what you could call a rough day.
For one, he'd woken up hours before his alarm and hadn't been able to get back to sleep no matter how hard he tried. For another, he had a pulsing headache that made it feel like his skull was being smushed under a hydraulic press anytime he moved his head more than an inch at a time. Worst of all, though, was the reason for his sleeplessness and headache: he'd had a nightmare.
Make no mistake: nightmares weren't uncommon for String Gummy ever since he'd wound up in his current timeline. He usually couldn't go more than a couple of days without having one, in fact. Most of the time, though, he thankfully couldn't remember the details past the lingering sensation that he'd relived his worst memories.
This morning's nightmare had unfortunately been all-too-memorable.
It'd started in the time pocket the Director had found him in—he'd been gasping for breath but unable to breathe, lungs constricted from both fear and lack of sufficient oxygen. Then she'd pulled him out from it, and he'd looked upon her with all the gratefulness and admiration that she was owed. Only—something was wrong. Her betrayed expression was different than he remembered.
"You abandoned me, String Gummy." Her words cut through him like knives, sharp and painful. "How could you do such a cruel thing?"
Suddenly they were standing in her office together. She was crumbling in his arms, brown-eyed glare piercing straight to his soul. He'd cried and screamed in the nightmare, but no words had come out. It was like even in dreams, where the impossible could happen, he still wasn't able to properly express his pain. He wasn't even given time to properly mourn—the next moment he was shooting out of bed, gun snatched from its position on his nightstand.
He'd panted in bed for the next few minutes until it dawned on him where he was and what had happened. His gun was placed back with only a slight hint of hesitance. He'd tried to return to sleep after, but it was a hopeless battle. When his alarm finally rang out hours later, all String Gummy had managed to do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. And then he'd gone to work like nothing had happened—like he wasn't carrying the suffocating weight of all his mistakes on his shoulders.
The Time Investigation Division didn't have any work lined up for once, so String Gummy was assigned to helping other divisions with their miscellaneous tasks. More bad luck, it seemed; he was more comfortable with his own division than any other, and having to do work he wasn't used to left him feeling out of his element. He got through two hours of this uncomfortable work before he had to take a break so that he didn't break down.
Right now he was ducked into an unoccupied bathroom, where he busied himself with taking measured breaths to ensure he wouldn't have a full-blown panic attack at work. It wasn't really helping, if he was being honest—if anything, the deep breaths only made his chest feel tighter and his pulse race faster.
It was at times like this that he wished he had some sort of off switch he could flick, like the machines that ran until they needed to be worked on, and were thus switched off for maintenance. He cracked a slight smile at the mental image of asking Croissant to perform maintenance on him—no doubt she would think he was joking, which. Well. He technically would be.
But it wasn't a joke to say that he often felt like he needed to be fixed in order to properly function again.
Oftentime it was like he was a burnt-out battery that could barely hold a charge. Like he'd been all used up powering something, only to be swapped out and put into a new machine. Except he was covered in corroded build-up that meant he didn't quite fit, and the act of even having him there was a safety risk. So then what was the point...?
String Gummy grit his teeth—okay, no more with the weird, oxygen-deprived metaphors. He needed to get a hold of himself.
After nearly thirty minutes of splashing water on his face and ignoring the confused stares from various employees entering the bathroom, String Gummy was as ready to go back to work as he'd ever be. When he checked his communicator, it said the next department he was assigned to help out was—
Oh. He had to stop by the Relic Management Division.
That was...hm.
String Gummy wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
He terribly wanted to see Maple Taffy, maybe even get a hug—but that would require admitting that he wasn't doing okay. And well, he wasn't always the best with words, so there was a chance he'd mess something up and somehow make Maple Taffy uncomfortable. He really really didn't want that, not when he was finally getting used to being with someone who didn't make him feel like he didn't belong.
Since steering clear of the RMD wasn't an option, String Gummy would just have to do his best to hide his depressing mood from Maple Taffy. Mind decided, he took another deep breath before making his way towards the division, the comforting weight of his gun strapped to his back.
When String Gummy arrived, there was a group of employees crowding around a mysterious artifact, all whispering to each other with awe-struck eyes. String Gummy didn't see Maple Taffy, though, so he skirted past them and made his way to Maple Taffy's office.
Calling it an office wasn't the most accurate, considering it didn't have a door and there wasn't really anywhere to sit with all the artifacts, scrolls, and other miscellaneous items scattered about. But there was a sign hung over the entrance that said, 'Relic Management Division's Head Office', so String Gummy referred to it as such.
String Gummy couldn't see the man of the hour, but he could hear him shuffling about somewhere in the room. "Maple Taffy?"
A familiar head popped up from behind a tall bronze statue. "Yes--? Oh, String Gummy! What a pleasant surprise! Give me one moment--"
The man quickly made his way out of the maze to stand before String Gummy, where he engulfed him in a tight hug.
Oh, right—String Gummy should've expected this. Maple Taffy was always tactile, even more so now that the two of them had entered some sort of unlabeled relationship.
String Gummy blinked back the tears that threatened to fill his eyes as Maple Taffy spoke. "I take it you're here for those ancient salt rocks, right? Such a shame to see them go, but at least they'll be in safe hands. Hopefully having them transferred to a museum where they're on display will help everyone see their appeal. That would be amazing! Oh, but before you grab them and leave—I have something to show you! It just came in today—!"
String Gummy could barely hear any words past the thumping of his heart. Maple Taffy finally let go, probably deciding their hug had gone on long enough, but String Gummy wasn't ready. Maple Taffy stopped speaking to stare at String Gummy, face confused.
"Are you alright, love?" he asked, voice much softer than before. The pet name combined with his gentleness felt almost too nice for someone like String Gummy. "You look a little pale…"
"I'm fine." String Gummy forced out the words, hoping his face gave nothing away. It must not've worked, judging by the eyebrow Maple Taffy raised.
String Gummy wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when Maple Taffy shrugged and didn't question him further. "Hm, if you say so. Anyways, as I was saying—"
Maple Taffy began to ramble about some new artifact or other, all the while leading String Gummy to said artifact. It was nice having a familiar voice as background noise instead of his usual self-deprecating thoughts. String Gummy was so lulled into a false sense of security that he didn't even realize when they'd entered a room he'd never been in before.
The first thing that set off alarm bells was the fact that Maple Taffy closed the door behind them. Maple Taffy almost never closed doors, either due to being too preoccupied or because it was easier to carry artifacts in and out of places with zero obstructions.
The second thing that was weird was the fact they were in a fairly small room. From the way Maple Taffy had been describing the artifact he wanted String Gummy to see, String Gummy had assumed it to be extremely large. But this room could barely store anything in it, never mind the fact it was practically empty.
And that was the third observation on String Gummy's internal list: the room was empty save for a ratty-looking couch and pile of blankets strewn haphazardly in the corner.
"Where are we...?" String Gummy asked at the same time Maple Taffy opened his mouth.
"Well, uh—you see—" Maple Taffy chuckled a bit guiltily. "This isn't where I was originally intending to take you. I mean, it's obvious there aren't any artifacts here, right? Or at least none worth gawking over, ahaha!" String Gummy waited for Maple Taffy to get to the point, which he eventually did. "So this is a little room I put together after one-too-many nights spent waking up to a bed of scrolls. It's nothing crazy, but it gets the job done when I'm too fixated to head home for the night, or for when I just need a quick nap."
While String Gummy appreciated the explanation, he still didn't understand why they were here. "If you want to take a nap, I can come back later."
Maple Taffy shook his head with a chuckle. "Nope! I'm peachy-keen, thank you very much! This right here is for you." He hesitated, averting his eyes. "If you want it, that is."
String Gummy blinked, confused. "...for me?"
Did Maple Taffy mean that String Gummy could take a nap here? Surely not...
Maple Taffy nodded. "Yep! You look a bit tired, so if you want, you can take a short nap in here. Nobody should bother you, and I can even come wake you up in a bit so you don't have to worry about oversleeping."
String Gummy blinked again, only this time it was to hold back tears. He spectacularly failed, feeling his cheeks dampen. Before he could so much as bring a hand up to wipe them away, Maple Taffy was dashing forward to embrace String Gummy yet again.
"Hey, hey, it's okay! You don't have to if you don't want to! Just figured I'd offer—"
"Thank you."
Maple Taffy pulled back at String Gummy's words. Despite the fact he was still crying, String Gummy did his best to smile. Maple Taffy smiled back, bright and cheery, and String Gummy fell in love all over again. He didn't even fight back when Maple Taffy pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his cheeks, drying his tears for him.
While his love for Maple Taffy was relatively new in the scheme of things, it was easy and steadily growing, like a flower under the sun. String Gummy didn't doubt that it'd continue to blossom until it died or the sun burnt out. He just had to hope that time was far off in the future, when he'd lived a long life he could say he was satisfied with. For now, though, he was content just to be here with Maple Taffy, getting to hear his laughter, his ramblings, and everything in between.
String Gummy fell asleep on top of the surprisingly comfortable couch, swamped by numerous blankets of varying sizes and patterns—and he'd never felt more loved.
Or slept that good, for that matter.