Chapter Text
The living room was quiet, even as Shrimpo entered. Out of the corner of Boxten's eye, he watched as the crustacean stretched, then laid himself in the empty space on the couch behind him.
Why he wasn't sitting on the couch as well was unknown even to Boxten. He had found himself on the floor, resting his upper back against the cushions, the bottom edge of his head comfortably resting on the section one would usually sit. He knew part of the idea came from the fact he could never rest the back of his head comfortably against anything—bed, sofa, you name it—and he couldn't do this with the couches back at Gardenview—they were made for Toons, so they were too short. This was as close as he could get to relaxing without having to lie on his side. And while lying down, it's hard to hold a book close to himself.
He felt a poke to the side of his head, and he blinked, lowering the book from his face to glance at the crustacean. "Whuh?"
"WHAT'CHA READING?" Shrimpo spoke simply, a fresh set of gauze wrapped around his arm.
Boxten had to change it earlier that afternoon after the crustacean decided to shower. He was out by the time Pine had returned from work, and also the grocery store, as they claimed. With them was some food for dinner, as well as clothing for the both of them—plenty for each of them, both outdoor and indoor clothes, short sleeve and long sleeve. One thing they specifically thought to buy was coats for each of them. Boxten assumed that it was for if they were to go outside, or leave, they'd at least have their own articles to stay warm with.
Now, the sky had darkened, and Shrimpo was adorning one of the new pairs given to him. The short sleeves sat strange on him—it was Boxten who wore most of the shirts Pine had provided back at the tent, he knew Shrimpo didn't like wearing sleeves. Boxten too was wearing a clean set, and they were much more comfortable than anything he'd been given at Gardenview. Likely since they were newer and higher quality.
Boxten blinked as his mind returned to the conversation, and he glanced at his book. "It's talking about TVs, like the one here." He gestured to the black screen of the television in front of them. "Just about how they work, the history of them, all of that."
"SOUNDS BORING." Shrimpo's whiskers twitched, leaning down to glance at the book, full of words Boxten knew he couldn't read.
"It is. Honestly, I'm having to guess what a lot of these words mean." Boxten shrugged, key beginning to turn slowly. "And it's hard to see… uh, can you turn on the lamp for me, please?" He turned his head back toward Shrimpo.
The crustacean blinked at him for a moment before nodding. "UH- Sure." He scooted over to the opposite side of the couch, reaching for the lamp on the end table against the wall. Boxten heard the faintest flick as Shrimpo tugged down the tiny chain to turn it on, and he squinted as a soft yellow light illuminated the growing dark of the living room.
"Thank you," he spoke quietly, and he heard Shrimpo mutter out a 'you're welcome' as he returned to hovering over the music box. Instead of sitting, he shifted to lie on his stomach, lying his head against his right arm, his left hanging off the edge of the couch.
The two returned to a peaceful silence, Boxten being acutely aware of Shrimpo's eyes on him, and the book as well. He was fully prepared to answer any questions the shrimp was likely going to ask him.
He was proven right as he felt a breath near the side of his head and a faint shuffling, feeling as the shrimp scooted closer. "WHAT'S THAT PICTURE?"
"Which one?"
"THAT." He saw a orange finger point toward a large photo in the top left corner. From what Boxten could decipher, it was a couple of diagrams of the earliest kinds of TVs, a lot of which looked similar to the ones back in Gardenview.
So, Boxten explained as such. "It's just the earliest models of televisions. From their invention until today." As he spoke, he drew his hand across the page, pointing in the direction of the evolution of the machine.
"WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING FLATTER?" Boxten winced as Shrimpo practically yelled right next to his ear, if he were to have a visible one.
"I dunno yet, I haven't gotten that far." Boxten leaned away slightly, only to turn his head to face Shrimpo. "Ain't it cool though? How these things used to be huge boxes, and now, look!" He gestured to the TV in front of them. The large apparatus was silver around the edges, standing on a short wooden piece of furniture with a small shelving area and drawers. The screen was flat, but the bulk behind it carried much of the mechanics for it to perform. "Now the screen is larger while not being as bulky."
Shrimpo only nodded with a twitch of his whiskers as Boxten continued. "Like, just imagine if they keep advancing this. Who knows, maybe the TVs in the future will be so thin, you could carry it with little effort, while still performing efficiently!"
His train of thought was cut off as Shrimpo tilted his head at him—at least as far as he could while resting it on his arm. "WAS THIS ALL YOU USED TO DO ALL DAY?"
Boxten's key stuttered to a halt, and he blinked at Shrimpo. "Wha—what do you mean?"
"BACK AT GARDENVIEW. DID YOU USED TO JUST READ BOOKS ABOUT ELECTRONICS?" Shrimpo's head fin twitched.
Boxten was quick to slump his shoulders. "No, not necessarily. Sometimes I'd read about other machines. Cars, small gadgets, my old computer; I even once asked for a manual on the machines down there but Dandy never gave me one. Guess he didn't want me messing with anything."
He heard Shrimpo snicker at that. "WOULD'VE YOU?"
Boxten shrugged. "Maybe, if we had one that wasn't used to keep our power supply on."
The music box was about to turn back to his book when he caught an expression on Shrimpo's face. He looked back up to see that Shrimpo was giving him a look. It was a familiar look—one where he had no idea what Boxten was talking about.
Boxten tilted his head as Shrimpo flicked a glance down. "What is it?"
The crustacean continued to be silent for a few, long moments, and Boxten half wondered if he had perhaps spoken wrong. His brows were quick to furrow with worry before Shrimpo shook his head, seemingly snapping himself out of the trance he was in. He cleared his throat. "Uh… Was that why we were doing runs?"
Boxten's key began to spin. "What? To keep the power on?"
Shrimpo nodded.
Boxten nodded in turn. "Yeah, I mean, that's the reason I was told. Cosmo said that the ichor would be used to power the place like how a car engine burns gasoline in its tanks to keep it running."
Shrimpo squinted at him. "What's a 'car?'"
The music box gave him a look but was quick to shake his head. "It's a big machine on wheels that humans drive around to go to places. There used to be big ones in the old garages in Gardenview."
"Oh." Shrimpo blinked to himself, turning away. "So that's what those were."
"Mhm. Anyway, yeah. I don't really know where all the ichor came from, but I know that's why we extracted it. I also know a lot of the ichor came from capsules, but I dunno where those came from either." Boxten flicked his gaze back down to the book in hand, resting the bottom edge of his head on the couch cushion. "Just more stuff Dandy never explained."
"Has Dandy really ever explained anything?" Shrimpo went back to relaxing his head, nearly bumping heads with Boxten. It wasn't like the music box particularly minded.
"Honestly, I don't think so." Boxten could only let out a small giggle. "It's not like it matters anymore."
"You got that right."
Boxten hadn't even realized the shrimp had lowered his voice. He was silently thankful for that—while he did define the shrimp from his booming voice, he liked it when he was quiet. It happened to also be when he felt the most genuine. He liked that.
He appreciated how genuine Shrimpo was. How honest he was. It was something he hadn't gotten from most others.
"…Do you miss them?"
Boxten blinked, lifting his gaze from the book but not moving his head to meet Shrimpo's. "What?"
"The others." Shrimpo deadpanned, tone as flat as he's heard it in a while. "You ever think of them?"
Boxten felt his expression fall at the mention. The sudden thought occurred to him—he hadn't been thinking about them, past the interaction with Connie the early afternoon they'd arrived here. And even before that, he'd almost entirely been focused on himself. Any thought of Poppy, or Cosmo, or really any of them came in fond memories. With Shrimpo, those thoughts seemed to dissipate.
"…At first, I did." Boxten spoke slowly, dipping his head, as if trying to hide his face. "Now, I don't really think of them. It doesn't feel good to think about them."
There was a pause for a few heartbeats, which was broken as he felt Shrimpo's eyes on him. "…well, I don't miss them."
"That's obvious." Boxten deadpanned, which earned a huff out of Shrimpo. "If you even remotely cared about them, we wouldn't be here right now."
"I know that." Shrimpo spat, yet no venom hung in his tone. "I'm just saying, I'm surprised you didn't think of a way to go back. Like… like getting back on the train, or whatever."
"Would you have wanted me to?" Boxten turned his head slightly toward Shrimpo.
"Yeah, definitely." Shrimpo was quick to respond, which earned a small squeak out of Boxten. A tense, short silence formed between them, and Shrimpo was quick to add on. "B-but then I got used to you. I don't care that you're here now, obviously. Don't think I want you gone."
Boxten turned his head to fully face Shrimpo.
The two held an unsteady eye contact for what felt like forever. Boxten didn't know what to say, yet he couldn't stop the uncontrollable flutters that flurried in his chest.
It only worsened as Shrimpo sighed, turning away, bringing a hand to poke at Boxten's head again. "I want you here, don't get the wrong idea."
Boxten simply sucked in a breath, snapping his head to stare down at the book. "Of course." He was quick to respond, his key's spinning speeding up to the point his song even played faster.
The only sound that hung between them was the spinning of Boxten's key and his music. As he felt the fluttering feeling die down did he feel Shrimpo's eyes return to him. He tried to keep his eyes trained on the book—he'd forgotten where he'd left off—but his poor eyesight wasn't aiding him in the slightest.
Thankfully, he didn't have to continue the struggle as Shrimpo once more spoke up. "Does that thing keep spinning forever?"
Boxten let out a exhale, flicking a glance toward Shrimpo. "Are you going to keep asking questions?"
"You want me to stop?" Shrimpo spat back, furrowing his brow at Boxten.
The music box was quick to shake his head. "N-no. I don't mind. Its just you're not usually this curious, that's all."
"I can be curious all I want!" Shrimpo was on the verge of yelling again, which was the last thing Boxten wanted. Yet the crustacean's whiskers twitched as he then gestured to his key. "And anyways, you haven't answered me. Can that thing spin forever without stopping?"
Boxten shrugged. "I'm unsure. If you're asking if it can come out, I don't think so. If it could come out, that'd be a fucking miracle."
"How so?" Shrimpo's head fin twitched.
"I could sleep on my back for once." Boxten sighed at the thought, looking upward. "Sleeping on your side gets uncomfortable after so long of doing it."
"I'd imagine." A brief pause followed, before Shrimpo took in a slow breath of air. "…if you don't care, can I see the… uh."
Boxten flicked his gaze toward Shrimpo. He hummed in questioning.
"The… spinning thing. In your head."
"Oh?" Boxten blinked, key stilling. "M-my ballerina?"
Shrimpo nodded.
"Uh… I mean, I don't see why not." Boxten set the book into his lap, and was tender in opening the latch of his head and pushing the lid backward, so the little platform the porcelain performer stood can show in the soft light of the lamp. He felt a slight flush as Shrimpo's eyes landed on his inner workings, and he reached backward to wind his key like a traditional music box.
Finally, a silence seemed to settle as his familiar music played to its most neutral state. Boxten didn't like keeping his lid open for long periods, mostly because he had to keep his head upright or it'd close on its own, and feeling the lid slam against the top ledge of his head did not feel good in the slightest. He simply brought the book back to his vision, and let Shrimpo gander at the spinning figure.
At some point, he felt a hand find his key, causing him to jump slightly. He was tense as he wondered what Shrimpo was doing. After a few long moments of gentle touches, he figured he was following the spin of his key with a finger.
It felt weird for it to be gently yet forcibly turned in its path. It almost made him feel sort of loopy, and his fingertips dug into the hardcover of the book. "Shrimpo?"
"Whuh?" He heard the crustacean behind him ask.
"Why are you touching my key?" He couldn't turn around to face Shrimpo, but his brows furrowed in concern regardless.
There was a moment of silence. It was broken as Shrimpo let out a short inhale. "I like how it spins." Boxten felt one of his blunt fingers stick through one of the holes, as if he were unwinding it himself. "Feels like I'm the one spinning the tiny human."
There was a pause before that hand drew back slightly. "…I ain't hurting you, am I?"
"Not really? No…" Boxten was confused by the feeling. It didn't feel good in anyway—he swore he heard a weird crunch from the turning—but it didn't hurt. It just felt weird. It made him wonder what would happen if Shrimpo kept turning it.
The hand only continued its spin.
Neither of them spoke for a long while, yet he continued to feel Shrimpo's hand on his key. He never really let any other Toon touch it, besides his handler. He recalled how she would help keep his head clean—mostly resulting in him having his head forced down while she cleaned the internal structure of his box. It felt invasive, but he knew it was a good thing. He didn't want to rust, after all.
He never figured out how to do it by himself since. He knew he'd ask Poppy and Glisten sometimes for help, but he never felt as meticulously cleaned as he felt when Betty cleaned him.
This made him realize just how long it'd been since his last cleaning. He knew he tried to clean his head at least every few months, and if it had been at least two months since arriving here, then he was about due for a clean. Maybe even more, considering how exposed to the elements he was.
That made him wonder.
A sudden, quiet click silenced any thoughts that crossed his mind. He felt himself stiffen, and after a moment of a loose feeling, he found himself acutely aware that he couldn't feel Shrimpo's hand anymore.
He… couldn't feel anything back there anymore. Not to mention the sickening sudden sound of silence.
His brows furrowed, and he slowly turned his head around to stare at the crustacean behind him. The first thing he noted was the look of absolute horror adorning his pale face. His eyes flicked from his hand to Boxten's eyes, brows raised in astonishment. It looked like he was just caught raiding Cosmo's room for med kits again—it wouldn't have been the first time he'd heard about that.
"What did you just do…?" Boxten felt his hand reaching for the back of his head, tone genuine. Shrimpo visibly swallowed, stuttering out a few incomprehensible words before flicking back to his hand.
That was the second thing he noted, as he felt an peculiar absence of something very important.
And he found it in Shrimpo's hand.
There, in his left hand, was his key. The handle was the same, yet it thinned out to a circular pattern, like a screw. He noticed that, at the edge, there was a light dark-ginger freckling.
But that wasn't what he was focusing on right now.
"m—MY KEY!" He practically screamed, fumbling backwards, hand holding the back of his head as if he were bleeding. Almost immediately, he winced as his open lid shut, causing a wave of pain to course through his head.
Shrimpo let out a yelp of surprise at the sound, dropping the key and sitting up on his knees.
Boxten felt panic rushing through his system, and he could already feel tears pooling in his lower eyelids. He hiccuped, then breathed. The breathing was quick to turn into hyperventilating. His key came off, his fucking key came off. That was like his arm suddenly popping off!
Both struggled to catch their breaths, moreso Boxten, as he felt phlegm building at the back of his throat. He coughed, which only made him sob. Usually his key would be spinning like crazy. Now there was a sick eerie silence of anything spinning or churning. The empty feeling in the back of his head didn't help either.
"I'M SORRY—!" Shrimpo frowned, gaze flicking from the key laid still on the couch and Boxten, who's back was to the coffee table. "I—I DIDN'T KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT—!"
Boxten just let out a sound of distress, bringing both hands to his head, staring at the key.
"HEY, CALM DOWN, OKAY?" His gaze flicked up as Shrimpo held his hands up. The crustacean tried to force a comforting smile, which didn't suit him in the slightest. "M-MAYBE IT GOES BACK ON—"
"What's going on??"
Both Toons jumped at the sudden voice, and Boxten watched as Shrimpo immediately turned on the defensive as Pine rushed out of the hallway, brows raised with worry. He flicked his gaze to Pine—who looked just as astonished as the two of them did—as the human looked over the scene. "What happened?"
Boxten could only hiccup, a shudder wracking his body as he lifted a hand to the couch. The same couch Shrimpo sat upon.
The crustacean let out a hiss and backed away slightly toward the far armrest. "LOOK, OKAY, I DIDN'T MEAN TO! IT JUST CAME OFF WHILE IT WAS SPINNING!" His tail raised, as if that would make him look tough. "I DIDN'T KNOW IT COULD DO THAT—" he whipped his head toward Boxten "—DON'T BLAME ME!"
"I—I'm not!" Boxten hiccuped. "I wasn't pointing at you!"
Shrimpo snarled. "WELL IT LOOKED LIKE IT!"
"Okay!" Pine raised their arms, silencing the both of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Boxten saw as Shrimpo drew back as Pine approached the couch, taking hold of the key. They examined it for a moment, before their expression seemed to lose its tension. They turned to Boxten. "You… does this usually come off?"
The music box was quick to shake his head. "I—I didn't know it could…" He raised a hand to wipe his tears, breathing still coming in quick.
Pine tilted their head, as if surprised. "You know these are able to come off? Like, say, if a music box needs repairs?"
Boxten stilled his hand, raising his head to give Pine a look. "It does?"
Pine nodded. "Yeah. A lot of old wind-up mechanisms do. Like old clocks, and well, music boxes."
Boxten stared at the human, then stared at the key in their hand. "Oh." He bluntly stated, quickly bringing the hem of his shirt to dry his face. He sniffled, "I didn't know."
"Well, now you do. This is no big deal, especially not one to scream over." He saw as the human let out a small chuckle before looking back at the key. They gave it another do-over with their gaze, before their brows furrowed slightly. "Though… I do think we have a bigger problem then just putting it back in."
Boxten and Shrimpo exchanged glances for a moment before Boxten's brows furrowed in turn. "…Like what?"
"This thing's staring to rust."
The music box felt himself freeze. He blinked. "What?"
"Yeah, at the base here." They pointed to the screw section. "Those spots there? That's rust, buddy. And I'm willing to bet there's more in there." Pine motioned to their own head.
Boxten swallowed the lump in his throat. So he was right. He felt as a light shiver returned to him, and he almost felt like crying again. This was quickly sated as Pine approached the music box.
"Hey, it's okay." They crouched down, putting a hand on the music box's shoulder. "It's only minor spotting, so I don't think it's gotten to the point that its damaged anything internally. Do you remember the last time its been cleaned?"
Boxten shrugged, tilting his head with a frown. "Not since we got here, so… over two months?"
Pine nodded. "And, at least I think you two were living outside, then it's even worse considering all the rain you've probably seen."
Boxten nodded at that, expression falling.
Pine was quick to sigh. "But it's alright. I think I got some rust remover in the garage, and if not I can quickly run out to grab some. Better nip this in the bud before it sprouts, y'know?"
The music box stared down for a long while before nodding once more. "Okay. I trust you." He looked up to meet Pine's gaze.
The human had a look of surprise at his words, before a warmer smile adorned their face. "Of course, Boxten." They spoke softly, before coming to stand once more, placing the key on the armrest of the couch and moving into the hallway. "I'll be back in a minute." They waved, then moved out of site.
Both Toons stared at the place Pine had disappeared before Boxten turned his head to glance at Shrimpo. The crustacean was quick to stare back, whiskers twitching, body loosening its former tension as he then slouched against the back of the couch.
He pursed his lips, before smacking them and looking down. "WELL…" He spoke flatly, clearly unsure of what to say. "THAT COULD'VE GONE WORSE."
"Yeah…" Boxten responded, picking at his shirt, now stained with tears. He sniffled once more and rubbed at his face a final time.
"HEY, AT LEAST YOU AIN'T DYING, SO THAT'S GOOD." Shrimpo held a finger-gun to him, then let out a sigh. "BUT, Y'KNOW. I'M STILL SORRY ABOUT THAT."
"No, it's okay…" Boxten moved his legs to hug at his knees. "I'm fine now… just, was scared."
"SO WAS I." Shrimpo's tail fin flicked, and he took in a breath. "DON'T TOUCH THE KEY, GOT IT."
"It wasn't really that." Boxten tilted his head. "Well, it was. I just don't like people touching it."
Shrimpo tilted his head, seeming pensive for a few moments before dipping his head. "…is there a reason why?"
"Not… really? I dunno." He slumped, resting his head on his knees. "It just felt weird. Not like bad or good weird, but weird."
Shrimpo furrowed his brow as he flicked his gaze to the side, then flicked his tail fin. "THAT'S… understandable." He shrugged. He shifted to return to lying on his stomach. "I mean, I get it."
Boxten only continued to stare at the floor.
"I'm sorry." Shrimpo's whiskers twitched.
"I said it was fine." Boxten raised his head, his expression softening as his gaze met Shrimpo's. "I'm not mad at you, really I'm not. Like I said, I was just surprised in the moment."
Shrimpo nodded, yet still kept his gaze down.
The silence that fell between them didn't last as there were soft footsteps approaching the two. Boxten was the first to lift his head as Pine entered from the hallway, holding a spray bottle and a toothbrush in their hand. They glanced into the living room, and their face immediately lit up.
"Oh, hi Pine." Boxten tilted his head, brows raising.
"Hi," their smile widened, and they began moving into the kitchen. "I found the cleaner. Can you pull yourself a chair in the dining room, it'd make it easier for me."
"Oh, uh—" Boxten turned to glance at Shrimpo for a moment, the crustacean only giving him a glance in return, then a huff as he buried his face into his right arm, his left lied flat in front of him. Boxten frowned at that and he lowered his voice. "I'll be back, ok?"
Shrimpo said nothing, but his tail fin flicked in affirmation. Boxten took that as a answer, then stood, grabbing the key from the armrest and walking away from the shrimp, despite the feeling in his chest wishing otherwise.
He glanced at Pine as he approached the dining room and grabbed the back of a tall chair. They had a roll of paper towels tucked under their arm, and they were pulling out drawers , he assumed they looking for items.
He took a seat in the chair, and looked at the glossy top of the table, noting how the spray bottle and toothbrush was already set atop it, and he placed the key next to it. He could see himself in its reflection, albeit his finer features being blurred—either from his vision or the mediocre glossiness, he didn't know. What he did note was his bandage, and how worn it looked. He was sure it was healed enough by now, at least to the point where he could probably remove it. Maybe he'd ask Pine later.
There was movement behind him, and he risked a glance to his side. Pine was drawing near him, and he nodded at them in recognition. They set the aforementioned paper towels beside him, as well as a screwdriver. He quirked his brow at that, and looked up at Pine.
They met his gaze, and was quick to nod. "This shouldn't take long. I'll admit, I've never had to do this, but I'm sure it shouldn't be too hard. Just tell me if anything hurts, alright?" They spoke as they moved toward the wall, flicking on the dining room light.
"Okay." Boxten nodded, and he moved his hands to open his lid once more. He hadn't latched it back, so there was little struggle in the action. He felt a little hesitant in showing his inner components to Pine, but like he'd said, he trusted Pine. He doubted Pine had anything malicious in mind. If they did, they'd probably already done it already.
He tried to ignore the gasp of awe when Boxten let his head be fully opened, and the still ballerina was displayed. He remained calm as Pine's body obscured most of his view, and he closed his eyes, feeling as a hand tilted his head down, examining him.
He heard a hum above him, and he took in a shaking breath as Pine let out a sigh. "Hm… I'm gonna need a smaller screwdriver. The one I have isn't big enough for those kinds of screws…"
"…What does that mean?" Boxten dug his fingers against his pants.
"That means I won't be able to get into the internals of your head." They poked a finger against him in emphasis. "Let me try the back."
Boxten only let out a hesitant 'okay' and Pine moved behind him, slowly closing his lid in the process. The music box was quick to latch it as he felt a presence behind him, as well as eyes.
"Okay." Pine was immediate to speak, and Boxten opened his eyes as he felt a hand cup the side of his head. "Yeah, I can definitely see it. It's not a lot, as I hoped." There was a sigh behind him and he shuddered. "I don't think I'll be able to get a tooth brush in there, but I might be able to with a Q-tip…"
He felt the hand release from him as Pine returned to sight. He turned his head as he watched Pine returned to the kitchen, pulling out a drawer and taking out a small box. They were quick to return to Boxten with a pensive expression, and Boxten moved his head to staring down at the ground.
"This might feel a little funny." Pine murmured as they took the bottle from the table. Boxten held his breath as he heard the sound of spraying.
"I-it's okay." Boxten stuttered, hands shaking.
Then, he took in a breath as he felt an intrusion in the back of his head. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling—it was very familiar. It was similar to when Betty would take apart his head to clean it. How come she didn't know his key wasn't removable? Was he just not paying attention?
Regardless, he kept his breathing steady as he felt the Q-tip circle around the hole where his key would enter. He heard Pine make a small comment about how it was working, so that was a good thing.
He didn't really know what to say, which he thankfully didn't have to start the conversation as Pine let out a hum shortly after. "Yeah, it's pretty prominent. I guess I was right to assume you were out in the rain all the time."
Boxten couldn't exactly shrug, so he spoke. "Kinda. I never got wet, I made sure of it. But… yeah."
Pine said nothing for a while, which made Boxten think they had nothing else to say. He was proven wrong as Pine's tone shifted into something softer. "…Where were you guys staying, if you mind me asking?"
Boxten's legs swung as he thought—the strange absence of his music discomforted him. "Somewhere in the woods. It wasn't a long walk to get to your house though, so it wasn't too bad. Shrimpo had built a tent for us to stay dry when it rains… it didn't really help when it snowed."
Pine was silent as they adjusted their hand on his head, which urged Boxten to continue. "B—but we were fine. It wasn't too bad of a place, y'know? I liked it… dunno what's gonna happen to it while we're gone, though."
He heard the human let out a small hum as the Q-tip withdrew from his head, only to hear another spray, then it reentering. "I'm sure it'll still be there. I wouldn't worry."
If Boxten could nod, he would've. He only slowed the swinging of his legs with a soft sigh. "Hey Pine?"
"What's that?" Pine murmured from behind.
Boxten hesitated for a minute, then took in a small breath. "Do you think I can take this bandage off?" He motioned to his face.
There was a brief silence before Pine spoke. "Probably, I'd have to check it myself. Though since it wasn't that deep of a cut, I'm sure it should've heal enough just fine."
"Okay," Boxten fidgeted with his hands, "that's good."
He could imagine Pine nodding. The silence continued as Boxten felt as, once again, the Q-tip was removed. He heard the sounds of Pine digging through the small box, and Boxten assumed it was them grabbing a clean Q-tip before there was a spray, and he felt himself getting swabbed once more.
"I think I'm almost done with this." Pine muttered, and withdrew the Q-tip. "Yep, I'm getting less red."
"Okay." Boxten repeated, just allowing Pine to finish with the current stick in hand, before grabbing a clean one, this time not spraying it. He assumed it was to dry him, since he doubted Pine could get any paper towels in there—he didn't know how big the hole was, but he doubted a human finger could fit.
After another minute of this did the Q-tip withdraw for the final time, and Boxten heard the content sigh from Pine. "You should be good! I don't think I'll be able to clean the rest of you today, but I at least got a little done."
"That's okay." Boxten nodded, albeit concern was written all over his face. "When do you think you can?"
"I can run to the store tomorrow to grab a smaller screwdriver. I don't think any hardware store is open right now." Boxten saw movement from the corner of his eye to see Pine coming into view. He lifted his head to meet their gaze. "What I can do now is at least make sure your lock and key are clean. Which, speaking of…"
He watched as the human grabbed the key from the table, and with another hand, grabbed the spray bottle, and proceeded to put a generous amount of cleaner on it. They proceeded to grab the toothbrush, and started scrubbing against the base. Boxten could see a faint white foam where the bristles hit metal, but he could tell by the raise of Pine's brows that it was getting it off.
"Do you need me to put this back on you?" Pine spoke, leaning against the table with their hip.
"I… think." Boxten looked down. He stared at his feet for a few, long moments.
"Okie dokie." Pine nodded, and continued to scrub. A silence fell between them for a few minutes, which Boxten didn't mind, continuing to swing his legs under the chair. He looked up as Pine's hand stilled, and they set the brush down, before grabbing a paper towel and wiping down the key.
Boxten then kept his head still as Pine took the clean key in hand and approached the music box. He let Pine steady his head with one hand, and with their other, slowly insert the key back in the lock and slowly turn.
The weird feeling returned to him, and he sucked in a breath at the feeling of his key returning. He also noted how feeling returned to the key, as if the ichor was reconnecting, or if his control of it was coming back. It wasn't until the sound of churning began—akin to when he'd wind the key up—did Pine stop turning, and let go.
"Okay, you should be good!" Pine backed away from Boxten, and moved toward the front of him. They smiled. "How do you feel, bud?"
Boxten reached to the back of his head, feeling the key in its usual place. He nodded. "Fine. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Pine tilted their head, before turning their head toward the kitchen. "I think it's about time I start dinner, ain't it?"
Boxten followed their gaze, legs loosely swinging. He focused on the feelings in his body, minus the return of feeling in his key. He hadn't eaten in a few hours when he'd had a small snack for lunch since Pine was at work. Now his stomach was clawing at him, and he shook his head. He looked up at Pine. "Did you want help?"
Pine turned to him, blinking in surprise. "I—do you want to help?"
Boxten moved out of the chair, taking a moment to push it back in before answering. "I've cooked before. Well, it was baking, but I can work an oven and stir. Cosmo was teaching me how to bake before we left. I haven't gotten to do it in a while, but I liked learning!" He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "But um… if you don't want me to, that's cool."
"No, no!" Pine waved their arms in front of themselves, seeming taken aback. "It's not that! I—I just wasn't expecting the offer!" He saw their face light up, and they leaned down to be more eye level with the music box. "I'd love to have you in the kitchen."
He felt a smile forming on his face and he nodded. "Oh, okay! Thank you!" He brought his hands to his chest.
Pine tilted their head at him, before straightening their posture and moving into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. The music box turned his head to glance at the living room, seeing the form of Shrimpo still residing on the couch. Taking one last glance toward Pine, he made his way over to the shrimp.
The crustacean was staring at the floor in silence. He seemed completely zoned out, even as Boxten settled to sit beside him. He leaned his head down to be in the crustacean's sight range, which only caused Shrimpo to blink and slowly turn his head toward Boxten.
"…are you okay?" Boxten tilted his head further, voice low.
Shrimpo only shrugged, letting out a grumble as he turned to stare at the floor. He brought his arms to his lap, tail raised high despite his shoulders slouching. He look so uncomfortable.
Boxten's expression fell at that, yet he kept his tone steady. "Pine's about to start making dinner."
"I KNOW THAT." Shrimpo spat, whiskers twitching. "YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING."
"…I'm sorry." Boxten sighed, flicking his gaze toward the floor.
"YOU DON'T HAVE TO." The crustacean retorted, tone sharp, edging with discomfort.
Boxten said nothing at that, and silence fell between the two. There was more that the music box wanted to say, but his tongue felt dry. There was a swell in his chest, and he let out a shaky exhale, dipping his head further and slumping his shoulders. He felt his key slowly begin to turn with a soft melody.
He couldn't help than feel that the crustacean was upset with him. He wasn't sure why—was he still upset about what happened? He hoped not, he'd said he wasn't mad. Maybe it was something else… but what?
The only thing his brain could conjure up was Pine. He knew how much the shrimp didn't like it here, but he'd agreed to give it a shot. He knew this was uncomfortable for Shrimpo, considering what little Boxten knew of his past experiences with humans. It was selfish to want, but he wished he just knew how to help Shrimpo. If he'd even want help.
Well, he knew of one way to make him feel better, but they couldn't do that right now. Not when Shrimpo's arm was still in recovery. He knew it was healing, at least where it didn't bleed anymore, and had even started to scab. He was sure by another few weeks—they'd only been here a few days—the bandage could at least be removed. Then, maybe after a little longer, could they leave.
Even though, as he glanced over to the kitchen and to Pine, he knew that wasn't something he necessarily looked forward to. Yet he'd left situations before despite not wanting it. He could do it again.
There was shifting beside him, and he glanced to see Shrimpo resting the back of his head against the couch, letting out a small huff. He shut his eyes, and Boxten could assume that sleepiness was dragging at the crustacean. Boxten frowned at that, and was about to move to stand, until a small sound startled the both of them.
There was a small thump and a mriau as a fluffy face crawled from the side of the couch. Boxten's brows raised as the cat padded over to the two, blinking at them.
Boxten only gave a small wave, and protruded a hand forward to stroke at her fur. The cat let out a small trill as she rubbed her head against his palm. He drew away as the cat moved passed him to beside him, crawling her way into Shrimpo's lap.
The crustacean's head lazily tilted down to stare at the feline, and let out a grumble as she thrust her muzzle against his, rubbing her fur against him. "CAT." He growled, turning away from the affection, which only persisted as the cat sat down, pressing her paws into his stomach.
The music box could only chuckle at the action, tilting his head as the cat proceeded to tuck her paws into a loafing position, cementing herself against the shrimp. He smiled at that, and raised his gaze to look at Shrimpo, who looked less than pleased. But at least he didn't look zoned out anymore.
He wondered what was going on in his mind.
Boxten shook his head. Maybe he'd ask once Pine went to bed. He was always more comfortable whenever Pine wasn't around. So, the music box stood, glancing at Shrimpo and the cat. "I'm gonna be in the kitchen helping, okay? Just… wave me down if you need me."
Shrimpo said nothing, and Boxten's shoulders slumped. He let out a soft sigh, waved to the crustacean, and walked away.
His chest tightened. His stomach growled. His head began to slowly ache.
He wished there was a better situation the two could be in. If one even existed at all.