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A Helping Hand

Summary:

Nightmares are easier to handle when you have a very loving husband on your side, or at least, so Bob hopes.

Notes:

Thanks again to CookieCatSU for being my beta reader and helping when I couldn't figure out what to write!
As well, I'd recommend at least reading Circle the Drain before this one, but do whatever you want, I won't stop you.

Work Text:

Fear rotted through Bob as that figure moved forward once more, screaming obscenities he knew he deserved. He wanted to curl up and hide. He wanted to run. Instead, he was trapped in place by the sound, forced to walk closer, shoved onto a stage where he had to watch the crowd as they jeered and laughed. Everyone laughing at him. He couldn't fall, couldn't breathe. The microphone was shoved into his hands as that figure danced around him, giving him the chance to speak. Clammy hands raised the microphone to his mouth, desperate to be free, but when he spoke, it wasn't his voice. Not anymore. It was stolen away, twisted into the sound he had heard over and over-- That horrible ruthless sound of Maligula's voice, hissing out the lyrics to the same tune Bob longed to stop. He wanted to scream, or fight, but his body was paralyzed. He searched the upper balconies for the others, only to find them preparing to fight.

They wouldn't lose this time. He knew they wouldn't lose. 

He felt frozen in place. Helmut was missing. He was alone on stage once more. Bob closed his eyes, trying to force himself free. Instead, his voice grew louder, yelling the words he had longed to forget. 

"I won't stick around to watch you go down."

He wanted it all to stop, but the group jumped from the balconies, aiming their attacks. He longed to scream, to hide, but instead, his arms moved up, bringing the vines with them.

"I don't wanna stay and watch you circle the drain."

They were preparing to fire. His whole body trembled. 

They attacked as one-- all six of them. Without him, they were unified. Without him, they could take down whatever monster they saw him as.

He made eye contact with Helmut for just a second before the punch smashed into him, driving him back through his heavy feet--

 

--and right off the bed.

Bob groaned as he got up, rubbing his head before checking himself over. No new bruises. His feet weren't as heavy as he remembered. Their attacks couldn't have hit him too hard if--

"Mm… Bobby… wait…"

Helmut. 

He sat back on the bed, still shaking. “...hey, honey.”

“Yup… ‘m awake, Bobby.” Helmut stretched out a little. “...talk t’ me?”

“Same nightmare again. It… It feels so real.” Bob took his hand, holding tight. “...I know it’s not. But every time, I… I end up back there. Like nothing I can say would ever matter.” He buried a hand in his beard, trying to untangle it. “...I hate it.”

“I know. I’m here now.” Helmut shifted more so that he was lying much closer to Bob, then swung his legs around so he was sitting up. Even though Helmut had never been a morning person, he always made time for Bob.

Bob leaned on his husband slightly, his eyes fluttering shut. Things were always easier when he was leaning on him. He could always try to rest with Helmut by his side.

Sometimes, it wouldn’t work. But it was better, at least a little.

“Feels stupid that it got to me that bad…”

“It’s not stupid, Bobby. It’s scary. An’ it’s fine to be scared.”

Bob took a deep breath. In, out. Slow but sure. 

“Wish we could fight ‘em off.”

“We could, actually. I’ve got that door thing somewhere around here.”

“I… don’t want you to worry about me, honeybear--”

“I would anyways. Please?”’

Bob finally sighed, and he nodded. “...Alright. But… If it’s dangerous, please don’t do anything too--”

“Bobby, please. This is hurting you.” Helmut met his eyes, taking both of Bob’s hands. “Please, just let me help.”

“I want to. But… I’m still nervous it could hurt you too.”

“I know. If we work together, though…?”

“Right.” He nodded, and took a breath, managing a smile. “Let’s do this.”

 


 

Bob’s mind had become a bit better to traverse with time and help. Over the last year, they had done their best to help each other, and the impact was obvious.

The islands were connected, albeit loosely, with rope bridges and rafts from place to place. Flowers swayed on every patch of grass they could find, breaking through the loose sand and heavy waves to brighten up the landscape.

To them, it was homey. Bob took Helmut’s hand when he appeared, yawning a bit still with the abrupt awakening.

“Any idea where we should look, Bobby?”

“...Not really. Probably with my memories of you. So… Follow the marigolds.”

The duo made their way across the swaying bridges one by one, rarely letting go of each other as they followed close by the yellow blooms on the water. The ocean had greatly cleared up, no longer smelling of booze and mushrooms, but there was still a stench of salt, sand, and something else unpleasant. Bob couldn't place his finger on it, but Helmut could. 

"Smoke."

So it was. Neither dared to ask what was burning, instead pushing onward towards the end of the path. Step by step, island by island.

Finally, they found the spot where a bottle had once sat in the sand. Now, instead, there was a tunnel without the bottleneck, leaving them to traverse it slowly but surely. The stairs weren’t friendly to people like them, especially with how long they had spent without traversing crumbling paths like this, but they continued, bit by bit, through the craggy cave. The walls were decorated more as time went on, scratches and paint creating interwoven patterns of their story. From the moment they met to the day Helmut died, there wasn’t a moment of darkness, the passage illuminated by the glow of bioluminescent mushrooms and light refracted from crystals and thin streams that passed by the stairs.

“I see you’ve redecorated,” Helmut joked. Bob smiled.

“Thought it would be better if I made it a bit more… Alive.”

“I like it.” 

The tunnel opened up to a large cavern, allowing them a moment of reprieve. The space was open enough to allow the bog to thrive under the surface of the oceanic world. Trees stretched into the abyssal sky, with moss lingering on every surface and draped from the trees, creating a green curtain. The water moved slowly, a few fish daring to stir the glass-like surface. 

“...Busses,” Bob mumbled, pointing at the fish. Helmut couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Yep, they sure are.” He wrapped an arm around his husband, and they continued onwards, balancing on old logs and helping each other on the slick rocks that peeked above the shallows.

“Oh, right. I… Just remembered.” Bob smiled, and waved his hands, pushing part of the mossy curtain to the side to reveal the other half of the cavern. There, a path led directly to the Feel Mobile, the stained glass windows, the tiny space that Ford had made ages ago. There, two trees stretched into an arbor for the wooden shapes, holding hands and keeping their carefully carved eyes on each other. “I kept it.”

“I would’ve too if I had something like this. I… think.” Helmut paused, falling quiet for a moment. The reminder of how much they had lost still stung, and they had to take a moment to hold onto each other, taking a moment of quiet to grieve what they had lost. Finally, Helmut took a few steps forwards, looking around the cavern.

Floating balls of light hovered about the place, giving it an ethereal glow. The world was bathed in a gentle yellow light, making it feel softer than ever.

At least, it was soft for a moment, before a chill wind whipped through, smashing the lights into nothingness. Bob latched onto Helmut’s hand instantly, preparing for a fight. A moment of quiet, a moment of peace, and then the world ruptured beneath them.

A purple mist engulfed the wooden figures, solidifying into a snakelike thing, coiled about the larger of the two figures. It eyed the duo with two large, green eyes, its insides a mix of fire and light as the many arms grabbed at the shape, cracking the wood. A Nightmare.

“...F-ck,” Bob muttered.

“That’s not a friendly face…”

The snake squeezed tighter against the wood statue, oozing into each crack, resting its head on top of the one it stole. Those eyes burned holes in them; that purple mist distorted the truth to instead show what it wanted to: A frostbitten, furious face.

"Why… why did you leave me..?" Helmut's voice asked, echoing with dozens of others. Bob fell back, unable to hold his ground.

"N-no, I'm not-- it wasn't--" he stammered, flailing for a correct word.

“You didn’t leave, Bobbybear.” Helmut stepped in front of his husband, facing him. “And this isn’t me, okay?”

Bob nodded, holding onto Helmut’s arms, unwilling to let go. The Nightmare behind Helmut pushed its conduit forward, looming over them, blocking out the light.

“Liar.”

Bob clung even tighter.

“I know what you did.”

Bob’s face paled, and he buried his head in his husband's chest, trying to block the sight. Trying to block out the sound. Anything.

"Bobby… I'm right here. It's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"But what if--"

"Then I'd come find you."

“...Helmut, that’s not what--”

“You left me.”

“I’m not--”

“You left me to die, you -sshole!”

Helmut froze in place, turning to try to face the monster using his voice. It seemed toweringly tall, glaring over him and directly at Bob. Helmut held close, trying to protect him.

“I-- I’m--” Bob shut his eyes, desperate to stop himself from crying, but it was too late. The Nightmare splintered the statue to nothingness, lunging at him, snatching him away from the arms of his husband as it pulled him through the ground only to let him out above it, trapping him among the many arms and limbs dragging him down. Helmut aimed his PSI-blasts at the monster's face, dodging around its arms as it tried to swipe at him too. Bob tried to pull free to no avail. All he could do was to hold some of the limbs back with vines, but even they were weak and ineffective.

With time and fear, the Nightmare only grew in strength.  

Helmut slammed into it, yanking Bob out of its grasp, pulling him close and holding him tight. Before the Nightmare could strike again, he slowed it down. Just a bit of time without so much of a threat.

"Bobby? Breathe with me, okay?"

"F-ck, honey, it's right-- it's true-- I just-- I abandoned you and I left and I f-cked up everything." Bob clutched his husband's robe, burying himself in his chest. Helmut held him tighter.

"... don't you think I'd be smart enough to leave if I really did feel like you abandoned me?"

Bob stared, pausing, and finally nodded. "I-- well, yes, but you're too nice to--"

"Bobby. Wouldn't I have been honest about how I was feeling? You know how I feel. Every single day." He fell back a little, putting his hands on Bob's cheeks. I'm still here. I'm not mad at you. Only thing I would be mad at you for is that you keep being mean to my husband."

Bob opened his mouth, then closed it, then managed a bit of laughter at Helmut's comment. 

Laughter. The true easiest way to fight a Nightmare-- pointing out its flaws, pointing out the silliness of it all. The creature screeched as it tried to claw at them, but Bob created a shield for them, leaving it to scratch ineffectively at the wall of bark like a dog at a door. The duo held tighter, protecting themselves with the help of the other.

Regrets buzzed in, and doubts bubbled up from the sea, but they were easy to take care of now. Hand in hand, giving each other the support they needed, the time they had together. As the last of them fizzled into mental energy, the Nightmare tried to disappear.

Before it could, both of them struck, breaking through its body with vines and psi-blasts, tearing it to shreds. Finally, there was true quiet, only the sound of their breathing disrupting it. 

“...You know I’m not gonna leave you, right?” Helmut asked, softly. “No matter what you say, I love you, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

“‘Course I do, honeybear. No matter what my mind says, you’re…” Bob looked at him. “You’re still the man I married.”

“And you’re still the man I married too. Ready to get back to sleep?”

“Only if you’re going to be okay with me cuddling right up to you.”

Helmut grinned wide, and pulled out the smelling salts from the pocket of his robe. “That just makes it even better.”

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