Chapter Text
It was all so hard to wrap his mind around.
In just a few days, Capochin’s boss, his best friend, is going to be a god. A god! That seemed so…impossible for him.
Well, no. It wasn’t impossible for Hector to be a god, as he seemed to always have some sort of divine quality to him (which definitely wasn’t just Capochin’s own perception of him speaking, nooo definitely not!). But the thought that he managed to get so close to a soon-to-be god, even after everything he’s been through. It’s unreal to him.
The short blue man was making his way through the obnoxiously bright and glistening halls of Hobbyhoo's “Clicky Tower” building. Alongside the blaring sights, it was loud as hell as well. As these halls were jam packed with both Bizzyboy and Grovian alike. His men all dress in their usual attire. Big red coats, black leather pants, boots, and a small red beret. Capochin rejected his own attire as their superior, instead going with a more formal shiny green suit alongside a totally different pair of leather black pants. Hector and a few of his boys helped pick it out.
Things were going relatively well tonight. Despite the considerably late hours, it seemed as though the whole building was still wide awake. Though, Hector decided to disappear out of nowhere a few hours ago and Capochin hasn't been seen sense. He knew that he was alright, or at the very least he wanted to believe that he’s okay. Hector was a tough man, and sure as hell was easy to spot in any sort of crowd.
Still, it was concerning how he managed to just completely disappear from the place.
This is ya own fault, Capochin scolded himself as he turned a corner. He was constantly by Hector’s side, and easily could’ve asked where his boss was wandering off to, instead of just brushing it off to get distracted by other pointless tasks. A pain of fear shot through him at the thought of Hector being in any possible danger. It wasn’t… that far fetched of a concern, being a future god was bound to put a massive target on his back. And with how so many Grovians feel about Drainfolk…
Capochin’s thoughts were put on hold when he bumped into a small group in the middle of the hall. He looked up and was greeted by four clearly tipsy Hobbyhooians.
“Oh, heeey there lil guy!” greeted the person he ran into. They had a woozy smile plastered on their face and were wearing the typical collection of vibrant colors found throughout Hobbyhooian fashion.
The feeling of being called a “lil guy” made Capochin want to recoil in disgust. But he knew he had to just deal with this less than ideal treatment. With the amount of work Hector put into shifting the general view the Grove has when it comes to both the Drain and Drainfolk, he didn’t want to completely ruin it by snapping at this random passerby.
Still, what he wouldn’t do to show this person a piece of his mind…
“Hey,” Capochin simply said.
“Clack, you guys are so stankin’ cyute! Just lookat ya fancy lil suit!” they said, kneeling down to face Capochin directly. There was a slight change in their disposition now noticing Capochin’s more shriveled appearance, not at all reflecting the typical cutesie appearance Hector tried to associate the Bizzyboys with. “Ah…how are you…ta-night?”
“Great,” Capochin grumbled, flicking his tail in slight annoyance. “Tryna find da baws, so if yew may…”
“O-oh! Right! Of course!” the person quickly stood up and stepped aside. “Go awn right ahead!”
Without another comment, Capochin continued his trek through the halls. He didn’t exactly know where Hector was, but he certainly hoped that he wasn’t too far away. Or, cob forbid, was up at the tippy-top of the place. The thought of going up all those stairs already made Capochin’s legs start to ache.
About twenty minutes of wandering throughout the place passed. More off-color comments from Grovians, his fellow Bizzyboys making fools of themselves right in front of him, the lights seemed to be getting brighter by the minute, and not a single sign of Hector anywhere. Capochin’s tail bristled in frustration alongside his prior feelings of dread. By the Grove, this building couldn’t have been that large.
More agonizing minutes passed, and Capochin stifled a groan of frustration. Looking at all the cheery people around him, something in his mind told him to actually use them for something, instead of viewing them as obstacles in his path. So, hesitantly, he decided to give in and actually ask someone where the soon-to-be god went. He wanted to prove himself as this clever, independent problem-solver that was perfect for his upcoming role as head of the Bizzyboys. However, he knew he wasn’t making any sort of progress wandering around this tower like a maze.
A bright, noisy, pointlessly complicated maze that better end with Hector as the grand shiny prize at the end.
Before him was a group of Bizzyboys sharing some drinks, and luckily Capochin recognized one of them (in a more personal sense, at least). One of the earliest Bizzyboy recruits and the main mind behind all their uniforms.
“Ey, Vibiano,” he called out to the group, motioning them over to him.
Vibiano made a startled squeak at the call, then quickly placed down their drink on a nearby table and hurried over towards Capochin. He’d chosen to glam himself up in a much more serious fashion compared to the rest; wearing a long shiny black skirt in place of the usual leather pants. For what reason? Capochin couldn’t tell.
“Yes, baws?” Vibiano’s voice cracked slightly.
“Y’know where Hector went?” Capochin grumbled, looking around the place. “Can’t find dat tall fucker anywhere, and I’m not gonna go up all dez stairs just ta find ‘im.”
Vibiano hummed, placing a hand on their chin. “Ah…hm…well I ‘unno, he certainly wasn't anywhere aw’round here. Have yew check yewr’s room? He might just be in there.”
…
Oh my gods. A flash of pure embarrassment and disappointment rushed through Capochin.
He gritted his teeth and started twitching his tail in agitation for himself. “I'll go do that,” Capochin hissed under his breath, not giving Vibiano or the group any quick goodbyes with his sudden departure.
“H-hey! Don’t ya wanna…” cried out Vibiano’s distance calls that barely reached Capochin’s ears. That didn’t matter, nothing else mattered, he had to go find Hector.
Of course he was going to be in their room! It was painfully obvious, why in the Drain would he have been anywhere else? Was Capochin really that…augh…
• • •
With a brisk enough strut throughout the halls and descending down a handful of floors, Capochin made it to a room numbered #389 in no time. He knocked on the wooden crimson door three times, and after no response he shouted, “HEY! Ecta! I needs ta get in, ya ass.”
Behind the door, a surprised yelp could be heard followed by hurried shuffling. After a moment, the door opened slightly to reveal the man of the hour, Hector.
He was wearing a pale yellow undershirt, the one he typically wore under his iconic bright red trench coat. His pants were a dark purple, almost black here. There was a sense of unkemptness in his dense navy curls, with his even curlier tail being held and fidgeted within his paws.
Something was wrong here.
“Oh..! Cappy, I didn't know yew'd be here by noaw,” Hector greeted flatly, forcing a quick smile on his face that faded in an instant. Without waiting for a response, he proceeded to let Capochin in.
Since this was just a temporary situation for the Bizzyboys before they made their way up to the Spire, the room itself was quite small and spacious. Most of the important stuff they all had was either kept back in the Cove or stashed away in the van. Though, Hector did warn against keeping anything too important in the van…saying he’s been getting a “strange pull” towards it.
Godly sensations, Capochin assumed.
Capochin went over and flopped down onto the large comfortable bed placed in the room’s center, exhaling a relaxed, gruff sigh. If there's one thing he's going to miss when they leave this place, it'll definitely be these massive squishy beds that hugged his entire body with a divine feeling of softness. It almost made him feel nostalgic.
Gotta ask for one of dees once I'm da big baws.
Hector sat down right beside him wordlessly.
“So, big guy,” Capochin began, his previous frustrated demeanor fading away into something more relaxed and casual. He always seemed to be able to calm down quickly when it’s just him and Hector together. “What are ya doing cooped up here all alone? People have been askin’ about ya!”
That was a subtle way of saying he was the one scrambling around the building looking for him.
“Dey were? Oh…well, I just wanted some quiet…” Hector murmured uncharacteristically solemnly, his thumb rubbing against the bandaged area of his tail. “I've been feelin’ weird tonight…b-but it's prawbably nothin’ ta worry about!” He quickly added in, his tone picking up slightly.
Capochin wasn't buying the act, though. Giving Hector a look full of pure doubt, he took a closer look at his fidgeting tail. The wrappings were loose, as if they'd been taken out then poorly applied back on.
A few deep blue stains tinted the bandages as well.
Oh.
Sitting himself up, Capochin grunted and motioned his hand towards Hector’s tail. Already understanding this, Hector groaned, let go of his tail so Capochin could grab ahold of it, then reached over for some fresh bandages on the counter. The two of them have gone through this song and dance probably hundreds of times by now.
“I’m sowwy, Cappy…” Hector mumbled, handing him the bandages and some cleansing wipes. “I’m just… I’unno.”
“I don't wanna hear no apologies, baws,” Capochin cut in, carefully removing the stained bandages. “Nah, instead, how are ya feelin’, like really feelin’, baws?”
“Eye already fuckin’ sai—hrmmgh… okay. I suppose I've been feeling uh…sick..?” Hector spoke slowly, as if he himself wasn't exactly sure if that was the truth. “This mornin’ I was feelin’ great, honestly! But as the day went on n’ awn I just…” he started making vague gestures with his hands in place of finishing his thought.
Capochin got it, though. Or at least he believes he understands what Hector's going through right now. Obviously becoming a god was no easy feat, and as the days keep counting down there was no surprise that he'd be feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him.
What Capochin wanted to figure out, though, was how he could help. What he could do to make Hector feel better. Lessen out all the stress he must've been feeling.
It was the least he could possibly do.
Hector let out a hiss through gritted teeth, his tail suddenly thrashing about, trying to escape Capochin’s grasp. “Don’t press down on it tew hard, it stings!”
A pang of guilt and embarrassment shot through Capochin. How ironic for him to be pondering about how he could help Hector, while simultaneously keeping some sort of death grip on his wounded tail. “Sorry! Sorry…just the wipes... But ya know I gotta do this cause I cares about ya, Speks,” he whispered, rewrapping Hector's tail now as delicately as he could to avoid any more stinging. He inched closer to him slightly, their bodies brushing against one another.
“Yew could afford tew care less…” Hector grumbled. With his tail currently being held in place in Capochin's grasp, he transferred some annoyed tail flicks into repetitive leg bounces. “I'll be fine, Cappy. I’m gonna be a god soon, I don’t need ya worryin’ over me anymore.”
Was that the case? Capochin never really bothered to learn much about godhood itself before coming up here. Mortals are capable of visiting a god’s realm, Hector had already done that probably a hundred times by now. But was there a limit to it?
He hummed to himself, a sea of mixed emotions flooding into his thoughts.
“Sorry, I dunno what’s up with me two-night,” Hector muttered again, breaking through the short air of silence.
“S’alright, Speks.”
…
Hm.
Maybe it was something about the way the curls of his tail flowed oh so nicely through his fingers. Or the way Capochin could feel his heartbeat leaning against him so gently. Perhaps even it was that mutual feeling of trust between the pair. It was something Capochin couldn’t quite place his finger on, it was possible that it was all of these and more.
But he never wanted this to end.
What “this” was, he wasn’t exactly sure. It certainly wasn’t the fact that he was wrapping up Hector’s self-inflicted tail wounds, no certainly not. But there was something else to this. The feeling. Being able to care for his leader, being the one person he could trust, the one he could rely on, the one he needed to rely on (based on his previous sloppy wrapping job). It made Capochin feel important, the most important person in Hector’s life.
It was confusing, it was odd, and frankly quite selfish of him to think of this in that way. He knew had to stop thinking like this, and yet it never left his mind. And what do these feelings say about him as a person, as Hector’s right-hand man and best friend?
How could Capochin be so…whatever.
This was all in his mind anyways. He wasn’t going to waste years of his life trying to decipher this odd fascination of his. There was nothing to be concerned about here.
These are just weird, passing thoughts he’ll forget about sooner or later.
“I’m done,” Capochin whispered softly, still holding onto a tangle of Hector's tail fur. He solemnly realized that this could very well be the last time he'd be able to feel the pleasant texture of his fur. He had no clue what Hector might turn into as a god, and the realization only made Capochin want to hold onto him for longer.
“Oh, good. Gewd,” Hector mumbled, peering down at his fresh new bandages. “Thank yew, Cappy.”
Hector flicked his tail, quickly freeing itself from Capochin's grasp. It was a simple motion with no underlying intention behind it, but to Capochin he was left with a sense of loss and longing. Just a moment he felt the softness of the one he loved rush away from him. Gone for good…
He lost him, he's going to lose—
No.
No, obviously Hector just moving his tail doesn't mean anything too deep.
Hector was still here, and he's going to still be there for him even as a god. In fact, he'll do more than that. He'll be a voice for everyone; oh great God of Leadership. He'll have eyes all over the Grove, powers never before seen by mortal eyes.
He'd be the best god the Grove could ever ask for.
And Capochin would always be by his side, no matter what.
“Feeling any better, Hecta? Aside from the…” Capochin motioned towards his newly bandaged tail.
After a moment of vague humming, Hector finally responded with a simple, “Sure…”
“Sure?”
“Yes,” Hector narrowed his eyes. “I’m fine, Capochin.”
There was a lack of that distinct shine in Hector’s eyes. Along with him just using Capochin’s full name? Clearly there was something still grappling at his psyche.
Capochin leaned more towards Hector, close enough to rest the side of his head against his side. “Y’know, if any of these pieces of shit runnin’ around this here building did anything to ya—”
“Wh-NO! No, nothing… nobody did anything tew me,” Hector insisted. His previous grouchy mood appeared to be fading into one more sullen. “Just… augh… lemme just be honest with yew, Cappy.” He slipped his hands beneath his glasses and covered his eyes. The taller Drainian leaned back and proceeded to let out a long, strenuous groan just full of repressed emotion.
“I’m tired,” Hector sighed. “Or I’m just nervous, worried, ah…scared? About da ascension, about what’ll happen tew me, if anything happens… Gods, for all I know this could just be some massive prank, yew eva think of dat? Would…would anyone really expect someone like me tew be a gawd? Hah, watch me go up that big ol’ Spire just to be rejected!”
It was now Hector's turn to flop down onto the bed, letting out another sigh, though his breath was picking up. “Right after alls da hard work I’ve done, all of it just…gone… I’ve gotta go back to da Cove—no, nooo I gotta return tew da Drain! Honestly, that’s where I was meant tew—”
“Hey now,” Capochin interrupted, gently smacking Hector’s face with his tail. “Has any of dat happened, huh? Is any of dat true, Speks?”
“Well, no…nyoo it hasn’t but–”
“Exactly, it hasn’t,” Capochin grunted, staring directly into Hector’s sullen eyes. Those big glasses of his really help with exaggerating whatever he must’ve been feeling behind those eyes of his. “Ain’t nobody’s rejected ya godhood yet, and ya know damn well dey won’t! Cause if dey do, they’ll havta go through me foist!” To display that, Capochin comically flexed his arms with only trace amounts of muscle on them.
That managed to let out a little giggle-snort from Hector, which made Capochin’s heart melt. “ Ohhh, okay I see, I see. Dat’s why I made yew my special lil deep-you-tee, huh?”
“Heheh, yep!” Capochin laid back down. “An’ ya know you're already such a great leader, baws. You were down there in da Drain gettin’ dees massive groups of people to all come togetha just ta help each otha out. An’ up here you've been doin’ dat and more. Fuckin’, gawds, Speks, yous a natural! Of course ya gonna be a god!”
Hector looked away from Capochin bashfully, a wiggly smile curling up his face. “Yes… yeah, exactly! Yew're right, Cappy.”
“Right as ever, now…” Capochin grunted sitting back up. Gods, he was pushing thirty and was already experiencing shitty back problems. “Ya wanna go out dere and help remember these folks who yew are and da amazing gawd yas gonna be?”
Hector stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. He hummed, then let out a sigh. “Sure, yea. Lemme just relax here for a bit…” He closed his eyes, taking in and out a few steady breaths. Capochin stayed by his side, eyes fixed on him as his breathing became more and more relaxed.
“...alright… alright!” Hector sat back up and got to his feet. “Da big community room, dat’s where we’re gonna go! Tell as many folks in da halls where we’re goin’, have ‘em tell otha folks dat an— great Grovie, is it 1am already…?”
“Don’t worry about dat.”
“Ah… Okay well, we’ll have ‘em tell their buds about it while we wait,” Hector picked out his trench coat from a hanger and tossed it on. “I dunno what I’ll say dere but…I’m gonna say something. I want dem all to know how…lucky and I am tew be going through this.”
While Hector was fiddling with his coat, muttering to himself about whether or not “lucky” was the right word to use there, Capochin was able to catch his stray sidelong glance, that sparkle once again returning to his eyes. Capochin himself couldn’t help but beam back up at him.
“I’m glad, I really am,” Hector murmured with a small smile. “An’ I really won’t have the chance for anotha big speechie until we get tew tha Spire; we’re gonna be blasting right through BuzzHuzz after this—which makes me sooo sad! I wanted to show yew all the bee-you-tea-full artwork all day there!!—so I suppose saying something now is betta than never.”
While Hector was getting ready, Capochin decided to brush off some stray hairs from his clothes, and quickly gave his hair a quick comb by a mirror. It was weird, seeing how easily the bristles passed through his strands of hair, knowing how curly it used to be all those years ago…
“OKAY! I’m done! Let’s get goin’ before I end up chickening out!” Hector called out, already by the door.
“Right behind ya, Speks!” Capochin responded. Giving himself one last look in the mirror, he went to follow his leader.
• • •
“Everyone! Grovian and Bizzyboy alike,” Hector began, his voice booming across the room.
They were all here for a small celebration earlier that day. Red and gold party streamers and balloons were still hung up throughout the room. A massive hanging multicolored sign with the words “CONGRATULATIONS, HECTOR! THE GOD OF LEADERSHIP!” with an illustration of a particularly cute looking Hector hung behind the soon-to-be god and his right-hand man.
Even in the far corner, a single small slice of a big red cake was left behind. Capochin would have to remember to get that lat—oh, it was snatched up by one of his Bizzys in an instant.
How long has dat even been there…?
Capochin shifted his focus from the room’s decorations to the people filling up said room. Despite the late hours, the room was absolutely packed. Mostly with Bizzyboys, their red clothing taking up the majority of the space. Still, there were plenty of Grovians and Drainfolk who weren’t Bizzyboys themselves. All these people, all coming out just for Hector.
And yew too, Cappy! A little Hector voice cooed in Capochin’s mind. He knew it was a sweet gesture; him being just as important as Hector, but he knew where everyone’s eyes were.
All focus was placed on their God of Leadership.
“My time as mortal will soon be comin’ to an end. It’s a very…un-bee-leave-able thing to…” his tone began to waver.
Capochin’s tail wrapped around Hector’s, giving it a comforting, encouraging squeeze. The gesture wasn’t visible to the crowd. But even if it were he wouldn’t care. It just served as a reminder of how important he was to Hector in moments like this.
“It’s a very unbelievable thing to wrap da mind around. I never thought all those years back, when I was sitting around in my lonesome down in da Drain. Even when I started recruiting ya all for da Bizzyboys! I’m just…sew honored to be given dis opportunity!”
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Despite his previous sour mood, Hector was able to give the crowd a big, cheery smile, with his eyes sparkling behind those round red glasses of his. Capochin knew he himself should be staring out into the crowd as well, but he just couldn’t get his eyes off his leader.
He was amazing. He was his god.
Hector took a small bow then looked about ready to head out when…
“Speech!”
A single cry broke through the air of silence.
“Speech!”
Then another.
More people joined in, calling out and cheering the newest god on. Speech, speech, give them all a speech Hector! Tell them your wisdom, set a vision for the future, prove that you know what you’re doing, oh great God of Leadership!
Capochin refused to join in the chant or try to neg Hector on. He glanced over at his superior and sure enough, Hector wasn’t having it. Yes, that big toothy smile was still plastered onto his face, but there was a twitch in the corners of his mouth. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Even below, his tail was thumping the ground in repetitive frustration. He didn’t want any of this, he already said all he needed to say, now he just needed to rest.
And Capochin was the one who dragged him out here.
Some second-in-command you are…
The shorter man took a step forward, and before Hector could raise any sort of question, Capochin flicked his tail in front of him. He knew what to do here.
“Settle down, ya lot!” Capochin boomed, instantly causing a ripple of silence throughout the room. Everyone’s eyes were on him now and…sheesh…Capochin couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden attention. I’m gonna have ta get used to this, I suppose…
“I know y’all are excited, and believe me, I certainly am too,” his gaze drifted throughout the room. “But, our Gawd of Leadership needs to rest. These next few days for ‘im are gonna be bizzy as hell, and I know none of y’all wanna see him all wrecked out on his big day, yeah?”
Quiet murmurs of agreement filled the room. Capochin felt odd about making strong statements such as this, and he hoped that Hector wasn’t steaming in embarrassment or disappointment behind him.
“Exactly,” he continued, “so y’all better hush-up about any sorta speech ya wanna hear, be patient, ya hear?”
Capochin stared down the group with sharp eyes. “Now, if ya excuse us…” He turned away, gesturing to Hector to follow him out the room.
• • •
Once the two were far enough away from the big community room, a wave of embarrassment once again washed over Capochin. Gods, did he really just do that? Taking over Hector’s announcement just like that with no prior warning? Sure, his leader was faltering, but what if he was misreading the situation? What if he just needed to take a moment to think of what possible speech he had in mind? Gods…what if Capochin ruined it for him just before his big day?! Running in for a chance to take a big bite out of Hector’s spotlight, to shield him from it. Taking it all just for himself.
Selfish…selfish, selfish—
Capochin was once again knocked out of his thoughts with a sudden sensation. This time it was the soft, brushing of a fluffy tail against his own bristled tail. He looked up and saw Hector giving him a small, gentle smile.
“Thanks, Cappy. I, uh… really needed to get outta dere,” Hector hummed. Now it seemed like it was Hector's turn to give Capochin some reassurance, with their tails tangled and squeezed together. Comfort, safety, trust, that’s what that meant. They knew that they had each other, through thick and thin, no matter what.
Capochin was going to miss this.
“Ya aren’t upset that I, uh, took over near the end?”
“Nah, I didn’t want dat lil announcement to be too long,” Hector hummed, tilting his head to the side with a shrug. “Just wanted tew thank folks, let ‘em all know how I feel about it—becoming a god… in a way at least.”
Subtly, Capochin could sense that familiar look of doubt wriggling its way onto Hector’s face once more. Their tails were still tangled together, but that grip of security tightened into one of desperation. A hold that says “That’s true, right? You can tell me if that’s true, right? I didn’t make a fool of myself out there, yeah? You can…you would tell me, wouldn’t you, Capochin?”
Or was he just reading too into it?
“Maybe I should’ve stayed a bit longer…would they…” Hector mumbled under his breath.
“Of course dey understand ya, Hector!” Capochin insisted, staring up at him boldly through those big glasses of his. “C’mon, ya gotta remember dat yew’re da God of Leadership! You’ve already got a hang of leadin’, and I’m sure all those people back there know betta than to question your own choice to leave.” Capochin cringed at himself, realizing once again that he was the one who actually ended that little announcement, not Hector. Whatever, though, surely he understands what he meant by this.
Hector stared down at him in pure silence for a few heartbeats, then let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah…I know, Cappy. Augh, I’m sorry, I feel like we’ve had dis conversation over an’ over an—”
Hector quickly cut himself off. “Let's get back to da room now, yea?” Hector suggested, delicately placing his hands onto Capochin's shoulders. “If we’re gonna be havin’ anotha pep talk about this thing, let’s do it away from any ah… Nosy Nancys!” The bridge of his nose wrinkled humorously.
Across the hall, a short, deep blue figure seems to have been peering at them from the corner, who proceeded to instantly scramble away with an “Eep!” the second their eyes locked in with Capochin’s.
“Yeah,” Capochin replied with a slight chuckle. “Let’s get some rest, Speks.”
• • •
Despite stating that they were going to “get some rest”, Capochin couldn’t feel any less restless than he was now. Everything was hitting him like a truck once more. Hector was ascending. Hector’s going to be a god in his own godly realm up in the heavens. Capochin was going to take his place, all of Hector’s previous tasks and responsibilities all pushed onto him.
And all of this was going to happen in a blink of an eye.
He could handle it, right? Even without Hector’s constant presence and help, he could manage it all…certainly. Hector has asked him countless times if this shift in leadership was something Capochin truly wanted, and every single time he assured him that he’ll be a hundred percent fine with his new role. Though, that’s mostly due to him not wanting to disappoint or make Hector worry about his future plans. Or, Grove forbid, cause him to end his path to godhood.
Sitting down at the end of the bed, Capochin let out an exhausted sigh and leaned back. It was like an endless cycle with the two of them. One of them starts spiraling downwards, lost in their own thoughts, while the other comes over to reassure them that everything is going to be alright. Honestly though, Capochin wouldn't ever mind giving Hector billions of more little pep talks, there truly was nothing he wanted more than to make sure his boss and best friend was sound in his thoughts.
But in turn, he didn’t want to seem like a liability to Hector… Hector certainly cares about him, but he didn’t want him to feel responsible for Capochin’s behavior and wellness. He already had so much to deal with; leading the Bizzyboys, becoming a god, dealing with everything both the Grove and Drain have to offer, everything! Capochin didn’t need to be another thing to add onto that pile.
Did Hector feel like this as well? That he’s just bringing me down? No! No, of course not! Whatever Capochin had to deal with, it was in no way comparable to what Hector’s constantly going through! He needs Capochin’s support, he needs him to be near to bring him down to earth. He needs…he needs…
Capochin caught sight of Hector sitting by the edge of the bed, unbuckling his belt. His breath hitched. This was something Capochin has seen countless times; as they’ve shared a room together ever since they’ve met, but a part of him wanted to holler out and start acting like a fool at the mere sight of him undressing. This certainly didn’t mean anything…
“Hm? Ya already changin’ out of that?” he mumbled, suppressing any urge to say something completely rancid at 1am of all times.
“I’m tiiired, Cappy!” Hector let out a large, exaggerated yawn to prove it. “I’m gonna sleep for a hundy years, I swears ta cob. Wake me up when it’s time to throw me into that big ol’ Rift!” He pushed his pants off, revealing heart patterned boxers. Cute.
Capochin cackled, loving their instant shift into a more casual mood the second they were alone together. He looked from him to the tv set up right in front of the bed. Without another thought, he reached over to grab onto the remote to turn it on. Instantly, the screen lit up, practically flash banging Capochin with its bright, vivid colors. Sheesh, even after living up in the Grove for a couple of years, Capochin still had to get used to how bright the screens tended to be here.
Since it was late at night, this channel seemed to be playing reruns of shows that nobody really cared about.
“Wh-wuh are ya playin’, Cappy?” Hector murmured, in the middle of taking off his undercoat.
“Just some uh,” Capochin had no clue what the hell he was seeing. It honestly just looked like every other sitcom that couldn’t tell whether or not its target audience was supposed to be kids into the blandest form of comedy possible, or drama-lovin’ adults whose tastes never evolved past their high school days. “Some buuullshiiit.”
“Some…? OH! Ohhh, aheheHAHAAHEH!” Hector burst into a giggle fit, as though that was the funniest way Capochin could describe something. “Turn it up, den! I wanna hears it!” His giggly voice was muffled, as he was still buried inside his undercoat.
“Naaah, yous gotta get some shut eye, boss. Make sure none of this abhorrent nonsense fills up your mind at night,” Capochin shot Hector a playful smirk, even if he couldn’t actually see it.
“Boooooo!” Hector groaned in the middle of his giggling, as if he weren’t just complaining about how tired he’s been for the past few hours. “Describe it to me den, Cappy. Dat’s an order from ya gawd!”
“Alright fiiine, oh great gawd of leadership,” Capochin chuckled. “Right now, they’re uhhh…”
Currently on the screen, there were girls sitting at a diner table already deep in conversation. The set they were placed in was so visually bland and flat that it was practically glowing, with the “nonsense pasta” placed on the table being the most eye-catching thing on the screen. One of the girls was visibly upset, while the other had this blissful ignorant look on her face. Capochin bumped up the audio just slightly (but not too loud that Hector could easily hear it) and turned on the subtitles.
“You shouldn’t put yourself into situations like that, Alli!” The angrier girl shouted. “Just letting that guy continue to mess with you, only letting you do stuff for his own gain, all while he treats you less than the dirt he walks on? I don’t get it, girl!”
“I mean…sure, yeah. But, you gotta admit he’s pretty cute!” A particularly aggressive on the ears laugh track played after what the other girl said. It put a grimace on Capochin’s face.
“...you’re letting this nasty, rancid guy take over your life…just because he’s cute?” Another laugh track.
“You wouldn’t understand it, Shelly! You’ve never been in love! You don’t know how it feels! When you love someone, and I mean truly love someone, not just drooling over some boy band poster,” Pause for laughter.
“You’d let them do anything with you. And if it doesn’t hurt you, then what’s the issue? Plus, I get to be a real cute girlfriend on top of it all!”
Capochin’s tail twitched in annoyance. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the set feeling this show was giving him. It was…off. The set, the characters, the laugh track. It was nothing, probably, but still, it unnerved Capochin in a way he couldn’t describe. Clearly, he had to pay more attention to this thing to solve this mystery.
Unfortunately, the longer he watched this show, the more confused he ended up feeling. That, alongside a strange sense of anger and frustration. Was it directed at these characters, this conversation they’re having, whoever’s bright mind was behind putting the most ear piercing laugh track after every other line they’ve spoken? Who could tell?
“Ugh, you know what, Alli? With you continuing to just hang around this guy who sees you as nothing more than a plaything, maybe you are just plaaain stupid!”
Laugh track.
“What da hell was funny about that?” Capochin grumbled beneath his breath. Berating this girl for being in a shitty relationship? This show’s miserable…
“Sooo?” Hector asked beside him, his clothes now folded up in his arms. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“Ah, like I said, baws, it’s just some bullshit,” Capochin grumbled. Without another word, he picked up the remote and started flipping through different channels. Hector shrugged, making his way around into the bathroom to freshen up before bed.
Clk. Bzz. “For just $59.99—” Clk. Bzz. “How dare you! How cou—” Clk. Bzz. “I don’t think he’ll ever understand that—” Clk. Bzz. “Record flooding reported down in the central levels of the Drain, but frankly what could be expected with a place like—” Clk. Bzz. Clk. Bzz. Clk. Bzz.
This pattern of Capochin’s came to a standstill when a familiar sight caught his eye.
Hector.
On the…TV? Well, he has been in a few notable documentaries and other television programs before, so he shouldn’t be that surprised. Still, it can be a bit jarring to know that the man you’re seeing on the “big screen” is just in the other room taking a bath.
This was an old recording of Hector’s first trip up to the Grove officially as the head of the Bizzyboys. The colors were a bit muted, but he appeared as radiant as always. His red trench coat was practically glowing, a smile was beaming on his face, and a massive crowd of Bizzyboys surrounded him. Capochin was able to spot his short figure right beside him, which made him recoil slightly. Gods, a few years have passed and he already had changed so much physically while on T. He was bigger, hairier, more… rough looking, though he liked that. So seeing his past self not reflect these changes of his…it was a bit jarring.
Capochin carefully placed the remote onto the bedside nightstand, not before turning up the volume a bit.
“My, uh, mama says dat Hecta’s a very good man,” that was the voice of a child, soon shown to be from the Drain. Their curly hair was tied back, and they were wearing a little light colored dress. “He’s very strong, helps a lotta people, um. He went up to da Growve to help, um. Make the place here better. And I’d really like dat, because I want my school to have a big, fun, cool playground that me and my friends can play around in. Because I sees otha kids not in da Drain, or in the more higher places have all these cool stuff, while here we’ve gots nothin’! So. Yea. I want Hecta tew dew dat for us.”
Capochin couldn’t tell if he wanted to break down sobbing from how dear this kid was, or to go on a laundry list of nitpicks he had for the production of this documentary; as it was painfully obvious it was produced by Grovians seeing how bright their interview setup seemed to be. But he had no brainpower for either of those things, so he continued watching.
With so much focus put onto this program, Capochin’s eyes were practically glued to the screen. More and more Drainfolk came up, talking about their thanks, hopes, concerns, and speculations about Hector’s leadership. Apparently this was created after talks about Hector’s impending godhood were making a buzz, so that subject was brought up as well. Funnily enough, there was an entire section dedicated to people predicting what Hector’s god form would look like.
A rendition that particularly catch Capochin’s eye was one that made god Hector look like a massive, fluffy beast of pure hair and fluff. A very humorous and adorable way of viewing him. Frankly, Capochin wouldn’t mind cuddling up with a big, hairy Hector thing.
This program block was going on for a considerably long time, long enough for Hector to come back in from his shower. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to the TV, as he instantly gave Capochin a sleepy “Ghmight, Cappy.” right before knocking out asleep. While Hector was a heavy sleeper, Capochin lowered the volume just a bit. Plus, with what a few of these Drainians have been saying about Hector, it’ll break Capochin’s heart if those more cruel comments ended up plaguing his mind.
After another hour of viewing, sleep finally got its grasps on Capochin, as he found his focus drifting every other moment. He yawned, reached for the remote to turn the bright TV off, when…
“Ya know, I don’t have dat much doubt about Hecta’s leadah-ship!” the scene switched to yet another street interview. An old Drain man with a pale tank top and loose shorts grumbled, with another beside him in similar attire, with the addition of some shades (which were pointless down in the Drain), nodding along. “He’s a nice boy, a real nice one! Nah, it’s actually da fate of da Bizzyboys I’mma ‘fraid of.”
Capochin’s hazy focus was locked once more on the screen. He didn’t know why, but there was a feeling these men had that ticked him off. Maybe it was the way they held their tails up, all proud and overly confident. Them calling Hector a “boy” clearly not in the “Bizzyboy” sense. Maybe the fact that they reminded him of the very people who caused him to be disconnected from his peers growing up… Capochin couldn’t quite tell. Perhaps it was just a sorry combination of his sleep depravity and overly defensiveness when it comes to the Bizzyboy’s image, but knew that whatever he was going to hear next is going to be complete bullshit.
“See, with Hecta becoming a whole gody, he’s gonna be focused on regular Grovie god bull *bleep* , hah. He betta not forget where he came from while he’s up there.” The old man took a drag of his cigarette, which left Capochin with a longing urge to grab a pack of smokes himself.
During this whole “Hector’s Final Campaign Trip” thing they’ve got going on, Capochin made an effort to not smoke a single cigarette. Both to make Hector look good, and to see how well he works without taking a break to smoke away his stress for once. Things so far have been going…decently on that front.
“But da Bizzyboys? That lil group of his that he claimed was ‘Gonna change the Drain for da betta!’? He ain’t gonna be their leader no more! So, whooo’s gonna take all dat power?” Taking another drag and blowing smoke directly onto the camera lense, the old man hissed, “Capochin.”
While this was in no way the first time his name has been mentioned in this program , the way this man hissed out his name here sent a shiver down his spine. Though, that shiver was less out of fear and more pure disgust.
“Hector’s special lil ‘Cappy’,” the other man coughed out a laugh. His poor imitation of Hector’s voice was grating on Capochin’s ears.
“Now I tell ya, I ain’t nevah seen that Capochin anywhere other than unda Hecta’s tail,” the two men snickered wildly. “An’ now these Bizzys are gonna be led by him? Kid’s gonna fall apart the second Hecta isn’t there to hold his little hand every step of the way.” Another cigarette drag; there was barely anything left in it by now. “On his own, what’s dat Capochin good for, anyways?”
“Oh, bet we could ask Hecta dat, he’d be so eager to tell us.” The men once again fell into a cackling fit.
“An’ he’s—what? How old? Twenty? Dat’s how old my boy, Jeremy, is! And he’s a goddamn bizzy as well! Is Hecta just letting children take over his bizzy-ness now?”
Capochin’s tail lashed behind him wildly, but the feeling of Hector stirring slightly caused him to stop instantly. Still, his blood boiled with every new word that came out of this old fucker’s mouth.
All this cackling and dey can’t even botha ta get their facts right. I’m twenty- six, da same age Hecta started this whole thing.
“Hah, ya know. I’m pretty sure I knows da real reason why Hecta decided to go with Capochin of all peoples to take his place. Can’t say it here , though, ya know how folks can be. But it’s something we alls can tell by now. I wasn’t lying about dat ‘unda Hecta’s tail’ thing of his.”
“I feels like something we can all agree on here, no matha how ya view it, is dat Capochin ain’t nothing , ain’t nobody without Hect—”
Clk!
…
No more of that.
Their room was plunged into a silent darkness, with faint light coming from the window.
Capochin stared at the TV’s screen, not even aware of his now heavy, rough breathing. His arms, legs, tail, his entire body was trembling. He wouldn’t be surprised if a few tears were streaming down his face as well. He…he didn’t know what to think. He wanted to scream, to throw something, to rush back down into the Drain, find those old pieces of shit, and strangle them with his own hands and tail. He wanted…he just wanted…
He wanted to sleep.
It was late.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Hector was snoring softly, his long, fluffy tail curled up to the side of his face. Did he hear all of that? All the horrible things those two said about them? Capochin sighed. He carelessly removed and tossed his suit off the side of the bed; not bothering to do anything with his undercoat. He dragged himself up the bed and snuggled up at Hector’s side, eyelids heavy, longing for sleep. The things those men said about him and Hector quickly echoed through his mind, but he tried his absolute hardest to suppress them.
He whispered soft, affirming words under his breath. They were directed at both him and Hector, but he knew the message wasn’t going to reach his deep asleep friend. That was fine, all that mattered was that he said something.
Those men were wrong, he knows this. They knew nothing about his future leadership. He’d be ready for this, even without Hector constantly by his side. Hector was prepared for all of this as well, he’s a god for crying out loud. No matter what they—what anybody says.
Everything was going to work out.
He’ll prove everyone wrong.
Nobody would ever doubt him ever again.
Everything was going to be okay.