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The cold blizzard winds show the city no mercy, viciously howling through New York. Sam storms through the streets, now mutated into a ginormous eldritch creature. Each step he takes freezes his surroundings to icy glaciers. While thousands of people shriek and dash for cover, Max doesn't follow them. Instead, he frantically searches through the DeSoto, looking for something- ANYTHING useful to bring- before he goes to save Sam.
He curses under his breath as he haphazardly digs through snow and, so far, useless junk building up in the car. He stops scouring, though, when his paw suddenly brushes past a familiar, tacky ring. His eyes fix on the silver band in the driver’s seat as his wavering hand reaches out and picks it up.
Ever since he and Sam found this engagement ring, Max’s brain wouldn’t stop revisiting a dumb quip he made about it…
——————
Sam squinted his eyes at the ring, turning it around in his hand and continuously tilting his head at it. All of that wolfhound’s deep thinking was really starting to give Max a second-hand headache, and he silently prayed that Sam would quit it already. As if he could read minds, Sam stopped fidgeting the ring around. When his squinted eyelids finally relaxed themselves, so did the muscles that Max subconsciously tensed up. The lagomorph grinned all his pointy teeth at Sam before turning around and preparing to hop back to the DeSoto-
But then, Sam sat himself down on the sidewalk, holding out the abandoned jewellery with his eyes more squinted than ever, continuing to examine the potential clue. Max buried his face in his hands, and screamed into them as loud as he could. He expected Sam to respond to that somehow, but he didn’t even twitch an ear. How the wolfhound’s brain wasn’t on the verge of exploding from deep concentration was nothing short of an enigma.
Well, if they were going to sit around, turning their brains to mush from ruminating so much, Max might as well find something to do. Spinning his luger in his hand, he brainstormed ways to pass the time.
Let’s see… Hand out tickets to speeding pigeons? he considered. Nah. Already did that last week. What about- AHA!
Max paused his luger-spinning tricks when he noticed Sam resting himself on one knee, holding the ring up to the lagomorph’s face. Max quickly hid his snickering behind his hands so he could shoo his giggling off without suspicion. His laughing fit finally stopped as he sighed and wiped the amused tears from his eyes. Max took a deep breath before feigning speechlessness. His eyebrows shot up as he jokingly gasped behind his hands.
“Sam! This is all so sudden!” the lagomorph teased. “I don’t know what to say!”
“Quiet, bonehead!” Sam’s subtle yet sickeningly sweet smile crept onto his face and betrayed his firm tone. For a second, Max coulda sworn his own heart fluttered at his partner’s contagious grin.
…
Nah. it was probably just the radioactive corn dogs he had for lunch…
—————
Max cracked that silly joke hoping Sam would giggle at his mockery of all those grody, romantic story clichés. In an embarrassing twist of irony, though, both that ring AND quip resurfaced a whole slew of the lagomorph’s more personal and saccharine feelings for Sam.
Throughout the years, the two stuck to each other like superglue, and their bond only deepened each year. Every perp they’ve beaten senselessly to a pulp, every specific joke they cracked and even their more boring days brought them closer together.
All these memories they made together remind Max why Sam means so much to him. It’s moments like these that make the lagomorph all the more eager for every future adventure they have together. And every time he thinks about that, this idea…. This CRAZY, STUPID idea of marrying Sam keeps kicking Max in the back of the head.
Sometimes, he imagines walking down the aisle, holding a colourful bunch of carnivorous flowers, all carefully picked by any florist lucky enough to be commissioned such a bouquet. Sam would be in a striking, dapper suit, with that silly little smile that Max can’t help but return. Other times, Max imagines himself and Sam flying their office to Mars for their honeymoon and surfing through blazing lava, speeding after sentient volcanoes that steal casting torches from fabrication shops.
He never keeps these daydreams around too long, though. The mawkish reveries always leave him with the impulse to throw tons of hammers at a wall, full force, until he can push every thought of marriage back to the farthest depths of his brain. It worked perfectly- until he and Sam found that stupid wedding ring. Since then, the number of dents left by all those hammers really started ramping up. It didn’t matter how much more work he left for the repair guys. None of the property damage could chase away the idea of being engaged to Sam.
It took a whole brain-napping and rescue mission for Max to finally stop pushing away the idea of marriage. When he found Sam lying limp on the ground, with no brain to let him smile, joke, laugh or do anything, everything fell apart. Each second Max spent in the desolate city, searching for Sam’s brain, his regrets stalked him at every turn. He would never get to propose to him. They would never get to go on any of those adventures they planned together. Worst of all, Sam would never know how much Max really loved him. Max would retch if he admitted it aloud, but a world without Sam isn’t even a world. Sam WAS that world- MAX’S world.
Of course, he didn’t actually die. Max DID rescue Sam’s brain and return it to its rightful noggin. His nerves should have calmed after that, but they only got worse. He and Sam survived tons of deadly adventures together, and that made it so easy to forget they could lose each other at any time. Would it be today? Tomorrow? Now?
Max suddenly shrinks into himself, violently shivering as the wintery gust snaps him out of his muddled thoughts. The freezing winds grow stronger, as Sam’s pained howls echo throughout the city. Max’s heart drops to his stomach when he turns his head towards the sound. Maimtrons and missiles begin to fly Sam’s way.
Max’s grip on the ring immediately tightens as he digs through the DeSoto once more, chucking every useless thing out of the car. He throws out all but one last item.
A small velvet jewellery box lies hidden under the driver’s seat, its fabric faded and worn.
“Just a while longer, Sammy,” he whispers his thoughts aloud, as he quickly picks up the old jewellery box from the car.
“I promise we’ll save you. And when we do…”
Max fits the silver band snug into the box. He closes and clutches it to his chest, as if it were someone dear he could lose.
“I have something really important to ask you.”
