Work Text:
Baby-Snaps is seven glaybles old when his parents drown in Milk River.
His dough had just firmed up, and his first chips pushing through to the surface. He remembers how his mother's sugar frosting had sparkled in the morning sunlight when he showed her that first nib of chocolate, how his father's jelly center shook with glee at their impromptu dance party. He's caught up in their arms, weightless for a few moments as they spin and spin.
He tries not to remember anything (their dough, crumbling) else (how white the milk was), but it's hard.
Dancing helps.
Until it doesn't.
*
He is 18 glaybles old when they give him an old suitcase filled with used baking sheets and fresh parchment paper. “It's not much,” the school warden tells him, the shortbread around her eyes damp. “But it's what we can spare, my dear.” He hugs her and she sniffles. “Goodbye, Baby-Snaps.”
He camps out the first few nights under the stars, flush with freedom. The Chips stay close, nestled into his dough.
“Where are we going?” “What are we going to do?” “Where will we live?” They whisper to each other when they think he's asleep.
He knows the answers. (“We are going to the Candy Kingdom.” “We will make Her Highness pay for what she did.” “We won't.”) He tells them not to worry.
It doesn't work out the way he planned.
*
Jake helps, he does. The irony is not lost on Baby-Snaps. A milkman saves his life. Granted, a fake milkman. But. Still. A milkman. That's glubbed up, man.
He realizes, quite suddenly (painfully), that Jake's his friend. Probably his first (and only) friend.
So, he lets go, steps back.
And for a few moments, he's free.
*
(Too bad he forgot that Milk River is dry in Candy Gorge this time of year. Motherglubber!)
*
He digs the institution, he does. It's easy: He just does what they tell him. Takes their orders. He's doing okay. Really.
*
(“These guys are cool floobies,” Finn says, his fingers coated in cheese dust. He stuffs another handful of cheese puffs in his mouth, savoring the delightful crunch.
The local shopkeeper laughs, peels open a fresh bag and shakes more cheese puffs out into a bowl on the counter. His candy hair is long and twisted into colorful ropes. His nametag says “Prince Herbert” (“Call me Herb, bro.”)
“Yeah!” Jake scoops up a handful from the bowl, gulps them down. “Wonder who runs this joint?”
“We all run this place, hero.” Herb digs into his pockets, comes up with a simple crown of woven grass, a blue flower at the center. “We're all royalty in our own mind.”
Finn pauses, mid-crunch. Jake shakes the bag off his head, sits up.
“Whoa.”)
*
Baby-Snaps accepts the crown from Jake, feels power course through his dough. Part of him knows it's false idolatry. He's never heard of the Grass Kingdom before. The other part of him wants to believe. Jake's a mailman. Finally. So Baby-Snaps believes.
He believes Jake.
*
A few cycles later, Jake returns. He's got a basket of snacks, and a machine that makes music by pushing a button. It's pretty sweet.
“You know PB wasn't laughing at you, right?” Jake chews with his mouth open, crumbs dotting his fur. “She was laughing with you, PC.”
Baby-Snaps chews delicately and swallows. Chipolina dabs at the corner of his mouth with the trailing ends of her straightjacket. “But I wasn't laughing.”
Jake scoops up an apple, stretches his jaw open and tips it into his mouth. “Exactly.”
*
After that, Jake visits him once a cycle, when the Cookie Moon is full. He says the full moon is important time for the Grass Kingdom. He brings a basket filled with cheese puffs for them to share (“Handmade by your people, PC!”) and soft knit sweaters for the Chips (“Finn is going through some stuff, y'know? He likes to knit when he's feeling blue.”) and they sit on the porch and stare up at the night sky.
Baby-Snaps thinks it's been almost a glayble of Jake's visits. This time, Jake brought along a beautiful bracelet of woven grass, studded with tiny red flowers. Baby-Snaps wears it on his ankle, feels his hands flex inside his straightjacket. His Chips are restless against his dough.
He shifts on his chair, tips forward until he can see the red flowers in the shine of the moon. “I'm not crazy, you know.”
“We're all crazy, man.” Jake stretches out his arm and mimics plucking a star out of the sky. He laughs, mock-juggles the fake star and pretends to eat it.
Baby-Snaps harrumphs. “I'm not a man, man. I'm a princess. You should address me as such.”
“My apologies, your highness,” Jake responds, bowing low. He never misses a beat.
*
“Next time, I'm planning something special.” Jake scoops up the now-empty basket, tucks it in his fur. The music-making machine (“It's a record player, PC!”) follows suit. “If that's okay with you, Highness?”
It's harder every time Jake leaves now. Baby-Snaps wonders why he's still lonely, after almost an entire life of being alone.
“Yeah, sure.”
Jake thumps him on the side, gently pulls Baby-Snaps into a brief hug. He's at the door when he turns around, bows deeply.
“Make sure you wear your crown, PC. I'm busting out my mailman garb. Don't want to be the only one living my dreams.”
*
“You look great, PC!” Jake tips his hat, bows deeply. His mail bag flops forward. Baby-Snaps notices that it's empty, which is disappointing. Chipolina sighs longingly from the spot behind the crown, and Jake grins. “No snacks today, got a better idea. Do you trust me?”
“Jake,” Baby-Snaps says, mournful. His Chips shiver. “You are the only one I trust.”
“Great! Fall down on the floor and pretend you're dead!”
Baby-Snaps falls.
*
“It's really no trouble!” Jake hefts his mailbag over his shoulder, makes soothing noises to the nurses. “I'll take him to the cemetery myself, was on my way there anyway to deliver some...mail yeah! No need for you to get up. He's light as a feather! Yeah, I'll let PB know, she'll be devastated, I'll make sure she's okay!”
Baby-Snaps feels his crown press against his dough. His Chips are silent, still.
He holds his breath.
*
Baby-Snaps stays in the bag. Jake splashes through river and bounds over trees. “You're going to love your kingdom, Princess.”
Night falls and Jake stops, carefully sets down the bag and helps Baby-Snaps to his feet. Jake fashions his hands into keys, easily unlocks the straightjacket.
Baby-Snaps stretches his arms out, repositions his crown, watches as Jake pulls the white fabric away. Once it's carefully out of sight and his Chips are freed, too, he sits down on the ground, presses his face into his hands.
“What the glub was that, Jake?”
He looks up; Jake is the height of a nearby tree, his long arms poking around in the branches. He shrinks down, carrying a bag stuffed with food and blankets that he spills at their feet.
“What? I busted you out, man! Gave them the old 'this cookie is seriously crumbled,' with a a side of 'I got this one,' and here we are. Easy as pie. If pie were easy. Man, now I'm hungry. Good thing I stashed these snacks!” Jake plucks a bag of cheese puffs from the pile, rips it open and tips some into his mouth. “We'll be in the Grass Kingdom by lunch tomorrow. Cheese puff?”
Baby-Snaps swallows, his throat scratchy. He reaches out for the bag. “Uh, okay.”
*
The next morning, Baby-Snaps sits comfortably on Jake's back for the journey. Jake's taken on the shape of an elephant, “just for fun, ya know?” Baby-Snaps doesn't know what to say, hasn't been outside like this in so long, with the sun on his dough and his arms free. Jake fills the silence as his legs eat up the distance. Baby-Snaps begins to doze.
“You're going to love it there, PC. Everyone is a prince or a princess or a king or a queen, and they all rule together. It's this wild thing. And there's all the cheese puffs you can eat, and everyone plays and dances--”
“They dance?” Baby-Snaps asks, suddenly alert.
“Yeah! Kind of! You'll see!” Jake's voice is bright. “In fact, we're almost there. Can you hear the music?”
Baby-Snaps closes his eyes, listens. “Yes.”
*
“Princess Cookie, I want you to meet Prince Herbert, of the Grass Kingdom. He'd prefer it if you called him Herb, though.”
Herb bows. “Would you come join our hacky sack circle, Princess?” He straightens up, offers his arm. They are standing on the edge of a small crowd, everyone with a small crown on their head and flowers woven around their arms.
Jake flashes a thumbs-up before stepping up to the group. He kicks his feet out, sends a small round bag flying across the circle to a green-iced donut wearing a sombrero.
“I don't know how to play.” Baby-Snaps blinks. “Your highness.”
“Call me Herb, Princess.” He shrugs, shuffles his feet. “And it's easy. We'll show you.”
Jake bounds back over, a frilly pink flower tucked behind his ear. “Don't worry, PC, it's like dancing.”
“Oh.” Baby-Snaps doesn't know what to say. He watches the others bounce and laugh. It does look like dancing. And everyone looks happy. His Chips tremble with excitement, whispering encouragement. “Oh!” He takes Herb's arm. “I can do that.”
Jake smiles. “Then you can do anything, Princess.”