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“Alright Sportacus,” Stephanie said, brushing the snow off of the bench and sitting herself next to Sportacus. “Tell me what happened. I’m sure it’s not all that bad.”
Sportacus sighed, playing with his fingers in his lap, his leg wiggling in latent anxiety and guilt.
He glanced at Stephanie, before looking back down at his hands again, working his lower-lip with his teeth before speaking. “Okay. So -”
It had snowed the night before.
It was the beginning of February and it had snowed, of all things. Where it had seemed like spring was finally on its way, it looked as if winter wanted to have one last hurrah before it was tucked away for next year.
Not that it affected Lazytown all that much. Its pace was lackadaisical at best, and snow only reaffirmed that fact.
It was Sportacus who decided to take advantage of it when he saw it outside his airship window that morning. So he got all of the kids a warming breakfast, bundled them up, and escorted them to the outskirts of town to play in the snow.
No better reason to get out and get active, and the kids absolutely loved sledding.
Really, it should have been a perfect calm day.
“Again Sportacus!” Ziggy bounced at the hero’s heels.
Sportacus looked up from re-doing Trixie’s zipper, and smiled.
Ziggy bounced more, “Look! I walked all the way back up the hill with my sled!” he tugged the string for demonstration.
“Good job Ziggy! Remember, in December you had a lot of trouble, and now look at you!”
Ziggy beamed.
Sportacus smiled. “Do you want me to give you another push down?”
“Yes yes yes yes yes!”
Sportacus couldn’t help but laugh heartily at the boy’s enthusiasm, and he gestured for Ziggy to get into his sled. The boy did so, clambering in with enthusiasm.
“Ready?” Sportacus smiled, hands on the back of the sled.
“Ready!” Ziggy was practically vibrating with excitement.
“One... Two... Three!”
Sportacus shoved him and Ziggy went zipping down the hill in peels of laughter, and Sportacus watched, arms crossed and shaking his head as Ziggy flopped over unceremoniously at the end of the hill and was attacked by his friends with snowballs.
It was a perfect day.
All the kids were playing happily, his crystal hadn’t gone off at all, and the snow was falling in gentle flurries around them.
Sportacus admired at the landscape before them, suddenly remembering something the town’s villain had said once.
What was it that Robbie said he liked so much about fresh snow?
Ah yes, Sportacus thought, it was that; ‘Freshly falling snow looks just like powdered sugar - and everything looks delicious.’
He shook his head at the thought, remembering the oddly calm and wistful conversation they had earlier in the year, both of them sitting by the bunker, and having an unusually normal conversation as a fresh dusting of snow fell around them.
It was around that time too that Robbie had gotten a minor cold because the man had decided to sleep outside in said cold.
And that was the thought that started Sportacus onto his downward spiral.
Really, he should have been more aware of himself by this point. Sportacus knew that he was starting to fret more and more about the lanky villain than he really ought to.
Sportacus had to remind himself that Robbie Rotten was a full grown adult who could take care of himself.
And yet ...
… And yet ...
Robbie Rotten was also a magnet for trouble, a hazard unto himself, someone who had no concept of healthy habits, and always seemed to find himself in the most peculiar and dangerous situations.
Sportacus took a large intake of breath remembering the recent time where he had to fish the man out of one of his own traps.
Sportacus suddenly wondered what Robbie was up to.
It was snowing, and knowing the man’s past history...
... He was likely going to be trying to take a nap in it again to get some shut-eye.
Sportacus could almost picture the man with his violently orange pillow stalking to a snow-covered bench to revel in the silence.
Because of course he would - he already had.
Now he had this awful mental image of the man curled up onto the bench, shivering, asleep, and getting slowly buried in snow until his fingertips turned blue and -
No. Stop.
Sportacus shook that thought out of his mind, and instead fidgeted, tapping his fingers on his arm as he idly watched the kids from the corner of his eye. They were taking turns pushing each other down, Stephanie and Ziggy going down together on one sled, Trixie and Pixel engaging in a snowball fight, and Stingy making snow-angels.
His mind slipped back to the villain.
Would Robbie be warm?
Would he a blanket?
Would he remember his winter clothes this time?
Hat?
Gloves?
Scarf?
Really, he shouldn’t be taking a nap outside anyway.
Those thoughts came trickling down faster and faster, settling in his chest and making him want to glance at his crystal more than it was necessary.
Not that it’d do him any good.
Especially when he learned that it would not go off for Robbie every time he was in trouble.
What if he was in trouble... right this very instant?
Sportacus bounced on his heels.
“- Sportacus?” Stephanie asked, tugging at his vest to gain his attention. “You’ve been staring out at nothing for a while now...”
Sportacus blinked, shook his head, and made for a smile. “Sorry Stephanie... I was thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?” Stephanie asked, wrinkling her nose.
What indeed.
“I think I have to go check on something,” Sportacus suddenly said. “I have-” he gestured, trying to explain - not that he understood any of it himself, “-a bad feeling.”
Stephanie tilted her head in a way that was reminiscent of himself. “A bad feeling?”
“Yes,” Sportacus bounced on his heels again.
Robbie could be in danger this very instant.
That part of him – buried deep, deep, down - uncurled uncomfortably at the thought. It made his fingers twitch and want to move, to act.
“Then you should go, Sportacus!” Stephanie said, very seriously, pushing at his back as if urging him to go, “If you think something is wrong, then you should go make sure!”
Sportacus rapidly nodded. “You all will be okay?”
“Yeah! We’ll all head back to Ziggy’s house after this, it’s the closest,” Stephanie promised. “Now go, Sportacus!”
Sportacus thanked her before dashing off.
All things considering, Robbie was not that terribly hard to find. Crystal or not, if Sportacus decided to seek Robbie out, he generally found him pretty quickly.
And he was right, of course, about what Robbie was doing.
When Sportacus found him, there was a bright orange pillow laid out on the snowy-bench, and a large fluffy blanket as well, all ready to be napped in.
Robbie’s back was facing him when Sportacus jogged up.
He was going to greet the man with a ‘hello’ and then a lecture about safe places to sleep when Robbie sneezed.
It was loud and wet sounding, and the way Robbie’s shoulders hunched it was rather sudden.
“Oh come on...” Robbie muttered to himself, turning slightly, hands to his face.
Sportacus froze.
Blood.
Blood on the snow.
Blood on Robbie’s face.
Blood on Robbie’s gloves.
Robbie was still muttering to himself, holding his gloved hand to his face. “Why now of all times? At least Sportadork isn’t here...” Robbie spotted him, voice trailing off.
“R-robbie?”
Robbie Rotten stared Sportacus, gloved hand covering his nose, and blood running down his chin. He took a step back. “Now Sportakook -”
Sportacus’ heart jumped somewhere to the vicinity of his throat and his ears began to ring. All he could see was the red dripping slowly onto Robbie’s scarf.
Robbie hastily covered his chin, holding his nose tighter.
“Robbie...” he started, his voice very careful.
Robbie was quick to gesture with a bloodied mitten. “Now Sporty; it’s just a nosebleed... no need to look so worr- AUGH!”
Sportacus had rushed toward him, yanking Robbie’s hands away and tilting his head forward.
“Keep your head forward! You don’t want to choke on blood!”
Heart still beating wildly, Sportacus dug in his vest until he came upon his handkerchief.
Sportacus pressed it to Robbie’s face and pinched his nose - carefully - to stem the flow of blood.
Sportacus pointedly ignored the indignant squawking noises Robbie was giving, his thin arms waving in the air in protest of this treatment.
“Sportacus!” he spluttered. “I’m fine.”
“Robbie that is a lot of blood,” Sportacus countered instead, glancing at the red on white behind Robbie.
“That’s because I sneezed,” Robbie argued, voice nasally from Sportacus’ grip.
Sportacus wasn’t really listening.
He had to get Robbie inside. But where...?
His airship was no good. Who knew what the change of air-pressure would do to Robbie...
And Stephanie wasn’t at home.
Maybe the -
Aha! The Town Hall!
Even if the Mayor wasn’t there, Sportacus knew he could freely use their facilities.
“Hold this,” Sportacus grabbed Robbie’s wrist and guided it to hold the kerchief to his own nose.
“What-? Hey!”
Sportacus swept Robbie into his arms and dashed.
“Hey! Stop! Stop!” Robbie protested, wiggling in his grip.
Sportacus didn’t. He kept on running until he had gotten the both of them inside and Robbie down onto a chair with his head bent forward.
“This is ridiculous, Sportacus,” Robbie said with a low grumble. Sportacus’ hand was on his back, urging him to lower his position more. “I am perfectly fine.”
Sportacus heard Robbie, but he didn’t really hear him. Maybe it was because he felt it too hard to believe what with how much blood he saw, or maybe it was because that feeling deep inside of his chest was clawing at any way it could to fix this.
Sportacus knelt down in front of Robbie. “Let me see...”
Robbie just let Sportacus pull the kerchief away - it was so red now - and looked at Robbie’s nose.
A dark dribble of blood immediately flowed over Robbie’s top lip and Sportacus hastily replaced the kerchief.
“Robbie... this is really bad.”
“It really isn’t.”
“I’m going to go get ice. Pinch right here,” Sportacus instructed him, and guided the villain’s fingers to copy the actions.
Sportacus moved to the halls small kitchen, and dug through the freezer. His heart was still beating in his ears, and he nearly fumbled with the pack of frozen carrots when he found it.
What to do? What to do? What to do?
Stop the nosebleed. First and foremost.
Clean Robbie up.
Get Robbie comfortable.
Figure out why this happened.
Stop it from happening again.
Sportacus was ripped through his worrisome thoughts at the sound of a click and of a window sliding in it’s pane.
“Robbie!”
Robbie was halfway out of the window when Sportacus came dashing back into the room.
Robbie froze where he was and gave a sheepish sort of grin. “Er-”
Sportacus crossed the room in less than two strides and grabbed Robbie by the wrist and yanked him back inside.
At least the villain had the decency to keep his nose pinched the whole time.
Sportacus breathed, “Robbie what do you think you are doing?”
“Leaving,” was Robbie’s flat response.
“You can’t leave.”
“Oh yes I can.” Robbie challenged, moving to get out of Sportacus’ grip “Watch me.”
Sportacus shoved him back down into the chair with a push to the shoulder. “No. You aren’t.”
Robbie growled, “And just why is that?”
“- because I need to fix this first.”
Sportacus earned a rolling of the eyes for that. “There’s nothing to fix Sportasnort, I am perfectly fine.”
“Then what’s this?” Sportacus exclaimed, gesturing wildly to the bloody handkerchief. “This does not look okay!”
“It’s fine! I get them all the time!”
If that was meant to comfort Sportacus, it did the complete opposite than its intended effect. His chest tightened more at the thought of this being more than a singular occurrence.
Sportacus announced. “I need to call a doctor.”
“What? No! No you don’t!” Robbie protested.
Sportacus ignored him, and instead busied Robbie’s free hand with holding the frozen bag of carrots to the bridge of his nose instead of gesticulating wildly in indignation.
The moment that Sportacus had his back turned, Robbie dropped the carrots and made a dash for the door.
For suffering with a nosebleed and being a self-proclaimed lazy-man extraordinaire, Robbie made it to the front door amazingly quick. He was nearly out onto the front steps when Sportacus noticed.
Sportacus was faster than him - of course - and caught the back of Robbie’s winter vest with one hand and holding him in place.
“Augh! Will you please stop that!”
Sportacus dragged him back to the chair, thought twice about it, and shoved him down onto the couch.
“This is just like that time before, isn’t it?”
Sportacus glanced around himself, looking for something - anything - that world keep Robbie in one spot.
“- because you have that strange look in your eye that you did before,” Robbie observed. He paused for a long moment. “... You’re not even listening to me again, are you?”
Sportacus grabbed an afghan.
“...”
Sportacus approached Robbie, holding the afghan out. He hoped the man wouldn’t try to make a run for it again.
“... Yep. This is exactly like the last time - oomph!”
Sportacus firmly wrapped Robbie into the afghan, tucking his arms together so he couldn’t escape.
Robbie growled. “Well it’s a step up from tape I guess.”
“Sorry Robbie,” Sportacus knelt down, quickly pressing his kerchief back to the man’s nose. “It’s for your own good.”
Robbie glowered. “Your definition of that seems to vary from mine.”
“You were bleeding!”
“It was a nosebleed, Sportathick, not a bullet wound.”
Sportacus fight his chest tighten at that mental image. He worked at his lower lip for a moment. “It was a lot of blood.”
“It looked that way because I sneezed and it got everywhere,” Robbie argued straight back, spelling it out for Sportacus like he was simple.
“You said you get them all the time!”
“Yes,” Robbie agreed; voice exasperated, “I do.”
“That’s not good!”
“Only if you don’t know why you get nosebleeds!” Robbie barked back.
Sportacus paused. “Do... Do you know why you get nosebleeds?”
Robbie growled out, “Yes - if you could take one second to ask instead of your violent mothering!”
Sportacus was taken a-back, “I wasn’t -”
Robbie’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you call this?” Robbie wiggled in demonstration of the tight wrap he was in. “A technique only elves know that solve nosebleeds that is hitherto unheard-of by man?”
Sportacus blinked. “I-”
“- wasn’t thinking. Yes. Well spotted,” Robbie said dryly. “If you have to know, I am prone to nosebleeds in cold weather because that’s just the way I am.”
“But -”
“No diseases...”
“But -”
“... I didn’t hit my head ...”
“But-!”
“... And no unknown incurable blood-borne illnesses that I don’t know about.”
Sportacus deflated.
Silence stretched between them for a good few moments. Robbie being quiet because he probably felt he said enough and Sportacus taking it all in.
Something in Sportacus snapped and he felt as if he broke out of some kind of fever or insanity.
“Robbie I am so sorry,” Sportacus hastily explained. “I don’t know what came over me. I just saw the blood and -”
“- Went into hero mode,” Robbie said, voice softer. “It’s... It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine!” Sportacus exclaimed. “I wasn’t listening to you, I took you here, and I -” Sportacus deflated more, “I’m sorry.”
“... It’s okay,” Robbie finally said after a long moment. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
Sportacus nodded slightly.
“I really am okay, you know.”
Sportacus shifted. “You sure?”
“As sure as I am the villain of Lazytown,” was the easy reply.
Sportacus laughed.
“So what did you do after that?” Stephanie asked.
“I freed him from the afghan. I got him cleaned up. I took him home,” Sportacus said, still looking at his hands. “I came here.”
Stephanie patted Sportacus’ shoulder. “It’s okay Sportacus, what you did wasn’t all that bad.”
Sportacus turned to her, protesting, “But I just grabbed him, Stephanie. I didn’t even listen to him. I wasn’t even thinking.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I was going overboard!”
Stephanie hummed. “You were trying to help him.”
“Forcibly!” Sportacus retorted.
“Okay - yeah - a bit; but the intentions were good, right?” Stephanie asked.
He hoped so. Sportacus sighed. “Yes, but it doesn’t excuse my behaviour.”
“Did you apologize?”
“Of course!”
“Did Robbie accept the apology?”
“He did.”
“Then stop worrying!” Stephanie giggled, gently punching Sportacus’ arm. “If you apologized, and he accepted it, then everything is okay, right?”
Sportacus reluctantly replied, “... Right.”
“Next time, just make sure to fuss over him more gently,” Stephanie reasoned with the lasting-wisdom only a child her age could have.
Sportacus wished he could tell her that he was never ever going to fuss over the man again; but he couldn’t lie.
“I’ll do that.”
“Good!” Stephanie chirped, and she pushed herself off of the bench. “Come on, Sportacus! I know what will make you feel better, let’s go play!”
Sportacus smiled, and let her pull him to his feet.
“Of course.”