Chapter Text
Sprout woke… without a start. He’d almost forgotten what just… waking up normally felt like.
As he rubbed his bleary eyes, his alarm clock blinked up at him, the little red digits reading: ‘4:37am’. That was… actually pretty good by his standards lately.
He hadn’t even had a nightmare tonight. That almost worried him in and of itself.
Carefully shifting himself up off of the bed, a sharp, searing, white-hot spike of pain shot through his head, bubbling behind his eyes and arcing through his skull. It felt like his head was coming apart. Stumbling to the side, he quickly braced himself against the wall, a hiss of breath slipping through his gritted teeth.
He didn’t like to complain, he’d never been the type of toon who did. But things really, really sucked lately. It seemed that every single other toon who had turned into… one of those monsters was recovering much faster and better than he was. Most were lucky enough to be almost entirely recovered, at least physically - nobody could honestly say they were fine after everything that had happened. He didn’t want to be bitter, but it was difficult not to when it seemed like it was only him whose body was refusing to co-operate.
He hated being seen as fragile, needing help with even the most basic things. He was supposed to be the overprotective one, dammit! Not the one almost collapsing because he stood up too fast. Not the one who’s half blind. Not the one who could barely walk for a few minutes without getting winded…
Worst of all though, was the fact that he actually did need the help. And he hated that more than anything.
Quickly grabbing his scarf - still tattered and damaged from all the memories it’d been through, from kitchen mishaps to near death experiences, it’s once clean white and pink stripes worn away to much darker shades, - he quickly wrapped it around his neck and hurried out the bedroom, stumbling into the cold, dark hallways of Gardenview.
He sighed as he recognised immediately where his legs were already guiding him. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to do with his morning, but his body was already leading the way, though pure muscle memory, directly to the room of one particular toon.
Rodger.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. He and Rodger had never been particularly close - barely more than acquaintances, really - at most Sprout had babysat Toodles for him a couple times, and the baker’s discussions with the detective had never really even progressed far beyond small talk. They weren’t enemies or anything even, they’d just… always been in separate circles. But recently Rodger had become one of the toons Sprout trusted the most.
It had been during a supply run, a few months ago. Sprout had been pushing himself much too hard to keep going on them, and Rodger had picked up on how much of a mess Sprout was, and decided to confront him. He usually would have just brushed him off, but… he just didn’t have the energy to that day, so, taking Rodger aside to some private side room away from the others, he finally cracked and confessed. About everything. How he hated his whole miserable situation.
And they’d been having these occasional meetings ever since. It wasn’t really scheduled, sometimes Sprout would simply turn up at Rodger’s room.
The detective just… knew exactly how to talk to him. He knew just how far to push a discussion and when to back off.
He felt bad keeping all these feelings and thoughts secret from Cosmo, but he knew that his best friend was already working himself to the bone to take care of Sprout lately. Dumping all this on him as well would be… selfish.
Slowly making his way through the darkened hallways, Sprout stumbled about, occasionally stopping to catch his breath.
After a few long minutes, he made it to what he was sure was Rodger’s room.
As he gently knocked on the door, he awaited a response, a sign of someone being awake inside.
Nothing.
Maybe this was a bad idea…
No. He knew he needed this.
He knocked again, a little firmer, a little sharper this time.
A few seconds passed before Sprout could faintly hear something fumbling about inside the room.
A few further seconds later, Sprout was greeted by a bleary-eyed Rodger at the door. “Sprout.” He greeted flatly. “…do you want to talk?” He added, his voice softening.
Sprout grabbed the end of his scarf, awkwardly fidgeting with the fabric in his hands - a bit of a newly developed habit of his - as he hesitated for a few moments.
“Uhm… yeah. If it’s not a problem.” He murmured, looking at the floor.
“Of course. Come in.” Rodger replied calmly, stepping aside.
Walking into the room, Sprout glanced around at each detail. The scattered files and papers strewn across the desk, the small single lamp gently illuminating the room.
“Take a seat.” Rodger offered, pulling back a chair sat facing towards the desk. Sprout quickly obliged, letting out a sigh of relief as he settled into the chair, the ache across his body settling instantly to something much more bearable, and Rodger settled into his own chair behind the desk. “You’re… rather late.” He added, looking across the desk over to Sprout. “So…?” He trailed off, looking at the strawberry sat in front of him with an investigative gaze.
After waiting through a brief, awkward silence, the baker eventually figured it was up to him to actually start the discussion.
“So… Cosmo mentioned Toodles had another baking lesson the other day?” Sprout began. “Apparently she uh… nearly cost us an oven, haha…” Sprout began, attempting to force a laugh, only to still be met with Rodger’s scrutinizing expression - or as much of an expression you could get from a toon who’s only facial detail was a single eye.
“...Yes. So I’ve heard.” Rodger replied, rather flatly. “Well, she did make me a very nice cupcake from it. So I wouldn’t call it a total failure.” He added, his tone still completely deadpan. The silence returned, until Rodger eventually broke it again, watching Sprout closely. “She misses having you there for her lessons.”
Sprout groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I know, Rodger. I just… I don’t… Never mind.”
“No. No.” Rodger replied immediately, cutting him off. “Don’t ’Never mind’ me, Sprout. You’re here to talk. So talk. What were you going to say?”
Sprout flinched a little at the sudden change of tone, as he looked back up at Rodger. “Look, I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay!?” He snapped back, before sinking back into the seat, glaring at the lamp in shame at his little outburst.
“That’s fine. If you’d prefer to talk about something else, what minor inconvenience or gossip has dragged you from your room at four in the morning?” Rodger replied back sarcastically, earning a glare from the baker. “We both know you don’t come to me for minor gossip, Sprout. If you wanted to talk about Toodles destroying the kitchen, you’d talk with Cosmo. Or the other mains. Astro… Shelly… perhaps… Vee?” He asked, putting extra emphasis on the tv-headed main’s name, watching intently as Sprout bristled slightly.
“Did you perhaps… really come to talk to me about the falling-out you had with Vee?”
The strawberry faltered at that. “Wh- how do you even-?” He stumbled over his words, gaze snapping back to Rodger’s eye. Last he checked, Rodger was a detective. He was NOT psychic.
“It’s rather convoluted.”
“I don’t care. How do you know, Rodger?” Sprout replied immediately, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like vices.
Rodger took a moment to breathe. “If I recall the whole chain correctly… Vee complained to Brightney about your… rather choice words. Brightney wrote about the chat in her diary. Gigi “accidentally borrowed” the diary after “accidentally breaking into” Brightney’s room. Connie then “accidentally read” it. Connie told Glisten. Glisten told Teagan. Toodles overheard them. And Toodles told me.”
“Wow. That uh- that is convoluted.”
Rodger simply hummed in reply.
“Well… yeah. We had… a bit of an argument, I guess.”
“That’s as good of a place to start as any, I suppose. So. What happened?”
——————————————————————
It had been a few weeks ago.
When Sprout was still occasionally forcing himself to go on supply runs. After he’d started talking to Rodger, but still before he’d been barred from runs due to the incident that, well, he was about to recount…
Since they'd managed to cure all the twisteds, there wasn’t any danger to their supply runs into the lower floors of Gardenview. But even though they didn’t need to really do them anymore since the ichor operation ended, it was still handy to pick up any extra supplies they could find, even if it was just grabbing any random junk someone wanted.
Extra cooking tools for Cosmo and Ginger, or any tinned food they could find. Books for Brightney and her book club. Plush toys for Toodles. Random stuff for Scraps and Goob. Just whatever was needed.
These runs were more of a slog than an actual challenge, the only danger being death by sheer boredom.
But it was something to do while waiting for Dyle’s next train to come along with supplies from the outside.
So of course, nobody really had a valid excuse for why Sprout couldn’t come along. Especially if there was an opening in the group.
It was an average sized group. Just him, Vee, Brusha, Boxten, Shelly, Finn, Scraps & Flutter.
It had all gone exactly to plan. They hadn’t had a particularly good haul, but they weren't too desperate to find anything, so it was all right.
Vee had continued throwing her usual jabs and minor insults at him as usual. A “Sure you can carry all that, Seedly?” There, a “Need to lie down, berry boy?” there. He just didn’t particularly feel like biting back, like continuing their little war of words they had going on.
He didn’t know why he expected ignoring her to get him anywhere. He should’ve known that if Vee had one thing she absolutely wouldn’t stand, it would be being ignored.
So she kept digging, getting a bit too eager to provoke a reaction from him.
“What? Am I getting the silent treatment now? Are you in a mood or something?” She teased. “Don’t tell me; do we need to go get your little boyfriend Cosmo to come down so he can kiss you into a better mood?” She questioned, giggling to herself, before looking around the group, giving an exaggerated groan at the lack of a response from her audience.
“GOD,” she started back up, “You lot have NO sense of humour, I swear. Am I on mute or something??” She asked, grabbing the microphone at the end of her tail and tapping at it. “Is this thing on?”
“Vee.” Sprout finally said, turning to look at her. She glanced up at him, her grin shifting to a more neutral expression for a moment. “Can you stop? Please?” He asked, trying to bury the exhaustion in his tone.
“…heh. So you do still have a voice of your own, after all.” She said, her grin returning to her screen.
“Vee.” He snapped, his voice shaking. “You can insult me as much as you want, but I draw the line at pulling Cosmo into this.” He said, ignoring the way his vision was starting to blur and twist at the edges, leaving Vee as the only thing in his focus now. “And I am done, pretending to tolerate this.”
Other voices slipped muffled into his ears, but he pushed forward, stepping closer to Vee. Something flickered on her digital expression. Concern? No way. “Vee. You… are such… an agitating, narcissistic, egotistical, little… bitch.” He spat, as the word began to tilt dangerously to the side.
——————————————————————
Settling back into his seat, Sprout shifted as Rodger’s room came back into focus.
“Yeah. That’s… about everything.”
Rodger seemed to hesitate a moment. “That’s all? How did she react?” He probed.
“Ugh… my head’s a bit fuzzy, to be honest, past that point. I think I remember her looking… actually shocked. It might’ve just been me, considering I collapsed a couple seconds after I said it, but she seemed pretty genuinely thrown off.”
Rodger nodded.
“And… then she said something… tried to play it off.” He massaged his forehead, as if trying to physically squeeze the thoughts out of his brain. “I don’t really know. I collapsed a few seconds after, and the group called the run off then and there.”
“And that’s how you were barred from runs…” Rodger murmured, taking mental notes. He glanced over at the clock, before sighing. “Well, I think that’s quite enough introspection for tonight, don’t you? Unless… was there anything else you wanted to add, Sprout?”
“Uhm. No, no thanks, Rodger. I think I’ve had enough for tonight too, ha.” He laughed slightly flatly.
Standing up, Sprout gently brushed some nonexistent dirt off of himself, and moved to leave. “…Thanks, Rodger.” He said softly, stepping towards the door and gently creaking it open.
“Anytime, Sprout. Anytime.”