Peanut Butter Banana Sandwiches

Heard A Warning Ringing


There was a stern lecture to every child in Lazy Town about strangers the next day. Coming from the town hero, when he looked so serious about it, it had the desired effect. Stephanie had taken to having a fear about being alone, so Sportacus had given her a little necklace- he said it was an elf charm, but she wasn’t sure, it looked pretty normal- and told her it would protect her no matter what, if he couldn’t get to her in time. She wore it constantly, and slowly, she started recovering. Every once in a while, she would slip and call him “daddy”. He didn’t mind.
There was still Robbie.
Sportacus ate an apple, perched on top of a wall in Lazy Town, and thought about it. He didn’t really know that much about Robbie Rotten. He knew the man’s personality, his facial expressions, his body… but was that enough? Should he dredge up bad things so he could try and fix them?
He sighed and tossed the apple core into a trashcan. No, he wouldn’t. Unless Robbie came to him, or needed help, he wouldn’t push it. Thinking about it, he was getting kind of bored with all the kids in school now. There was no one to play with, and they hardly ever got in trouble with teachers hovering around them.
He jumped off the wall. There was always Robbie’s place, after all.


Unfortunately, Robbie Rotten was in no state for visitors. He had been inventing when a wire snapped, and slashed into the side of his face. It was a shallow cut, but it was bleeding like crazy, and the sting of it was pissing him off. So it was a natural reaction for him, to start alternating between throwing things into the walls, and smashing other things with a large mallet.
“Whoa, what’s going on?”
He turned around to see a certain sports elf peeking out of the pipe opening and looking around at the destruction.
“Do you just let yourself in now?!” Robbie screeched, at the peak of his fury. Sportacus backed up slightly in the pipe, looking at him with wide eyes. Oh boy. Robbie was pissed at something.
“What’s wrong?” The default question for dealing with Robbie. The man smashed something else on the workbench into pieces.
“Nothing is wrong!” he yelled, and searched for something else to destroy. Sportacus crept out of the pipe while he was distracted. “Not a thing! Not you, not the pink pixie, not this stupid town, nothing!” Just as he was about to bring the mallet down on something else, Sportacus moved behind him, expertly plucked the weapon from his hands, and let it drop to the floor. Before Robbie could turn around and lay into him for it, the elf wrapped him in a bear hug and started dragging him backwards.
“Someone needs a time out,” he said fairly calmly, dragging Robbie over to his orange chair. This of course only made Robbie angrier, and he fought every inch of the way. Sportacus set him in the chair, narrowly avoiding a flailed kick to his face, and only then noticed the amount of blood on the side of Robbie’s face.
“What happened?!” he yelped, and immediately reached out to touch it. Robbie hissed at him but couldn’t escape.
“It’s none of your business!”
Sportacus narrowed his eyes. That was getting tiring.
“It is my business. You’re hurt. That’s definitely my business Robbie. So stop trying to push me away.”
Robbie glared at him fiercely, but didn’t say anything. Sportacus used the moment to inspect the cut.
“Ouch,” he finally said. “That’s going to need some medicine.” Robbie growled.
“Like hell,” he replied. Sportacus fixed him with a hard stare.
“Unless you want a scar, Robbie.”
“Like I don’t already have scars, sports elf.” he scoffed. Sportacus’ eyebrows came together in thought. Scars?…
“I’ve never seen any scars on you Robbie,” he said, sounding genuinely confused. Robbie paled slightly, and his eyes darted in a way that suggested he was searching for a lie.
“Well, then… you didn’t look hard enough.”
“Hm… where, then?”
“None of your business,” he automatically snapped. He knew the mistake the instant the elf’s face hardened in determination.
“It’s still bleeding,” Sportacus said after a moment, eyeing the gash in his cheek. “Hold still.” He licked his thumb and Robbie raised an eyebrow at this.
“Are you going to clean it better?”
“Just hold still, you baby.”
“I am not-”
But Sportacus was already swiping his thumb across the cut, and Robbie hissed at the sudden renewed stinging. He squirmed and Sportacus had to pin him.
“I told you to stay still!”
“It hurts damnit!”
“It’s almost done.”
And abruptly it was. The pain was gone completely, and Robbie blinked in surprise at the contrast. Sportacus let him go and leaned back.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Robbie brought a hand up to his face and felt. There was dried blood, but no cut. Like it was never there. He stared at Sportacus, who smiled sheepishly.
“I figured you didn’t have any first aid stuff here,” he explained. “And I didn’t want to go back to the air ship to get any and leave you here bleeding. So I fixed it.”
“More elf magic,” Robbie said dully. “Your saliva is magical too now?” It was fascinating to watch the sports elf’s nose scrunch up like that when he was aggravated or wanting to protest. It was almost cute.
“I think we already established that I’m not human Robbie.”
“So you could like… lick wounds closed?”
“I could…” Sportacus started hesitantly. “But I wouldn’t lick them. Blood would get in my mouth.”
“Is that bad?”
“Yes,” he answered shortly.
“Hmm,” Robbie commented, clearly thinking.
“If you’re going to plot my downfall, please do it some other way,” Sportacus said, smiling faintly. “You really wouldn’t like the results of that particular plot.” Robbie looked at him questioningly, but no other explanation was forthcoming.
“So,” Sportacus said. “I told you a secret. You tell me where these supposed scars are.”
“Oh, no,” Robbie replied, scooting back further into the chair. “No way.” Sportacus appeared to think for a moment.
“I don’t know if I can heal scars, but it’d be worth a try, right?” To his disappointment, Robbie just started laughing.
“No,” he said, still chuckling. “No, even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”
“Why not?” Sportacus frowned. Robbie looked at him and didn’t say anything.
“Fine,” Sportacus said sharply, getting mildly frustrated. “I’ll make it into a game then.”
“I hate games!” Robbie protested.
“Too bad,” he answered quickly. He ran over a list of things in his head. “Hands?” He looked at Robbie’s hands. They were, miraculously, unscarred, even with having worked with machines. “No. I’ve seen your back, no scars there… front either…” he grinned a little, feeling slightly mischievous. “Ears?” He made a show of inspecting the man’s ears and felt Robbie tense up under him to keep from laughing. He really was horribly ticklish.
“Nope,” he said and finally let up, reveling in the smile Robbie was trying his hardest to suppress. He continued. “I’ve felt your hair enough times to know there’s nothing on your head… hmm… not your face… legs? No, I don’t think there’s any there either… feet?”
He immediately noticed the way Robbie’s eyes dilated. Jackpot.
“How’d you get scars there?” he asked mildly, innocently. Robbie’s eyes were shifting in and out of focus again.
“I never said you were right,” Robbie replied dully.
“You didn’t need to.” Sportacus shot back. “I won’t push you. But I want to know, Robbie. Don’t keep secrets.” He wasn’t going to push. But a nudge wasn’t a push.
“It hurts that you don’t trust me.”
Bingo.
“You’ll hate me.” Robbie responded, desperately. Sportacus was slowly catching on to all the similarities between Stephanie and Robbie. It was becoming increasingly clear, as Stephanie recovered from her latest ordeal, that where she had come away with a fear of being alone she was only just getting over, Robbie had always been afraid of it. Every action in Robbie demanded attention. Every tantrum said that much. And he flinched away from positive attention.
Something had happened, somewhere in the past, and the implications of it were making Sportacus increasingly worried.
“I won’t hate you Robbie,” he reassured him, trying to stay in control even when Robbie flinched when he ran a hand through the man’s hair. “No matter what, I won’t ever hate you.” Robbie seemed to harden his resolve.
“I won’t tell you,” he said, opening his eyes and staring straight at him. Sportacus shivered. They were hollow again, but the message was different. It wasn’t the child-Robbie peeking through. It was an older one that had already given up.
“You’ll hurt me. I can’t trust anyone. I won’t. I’ll get hurt, I’m scared, you can’t save me.”
Something twisted in his heart, and tears started forming. He pushed them back. It wasn’t that he couldn’t save him. It was that Robbie always refused to be saved. He was stubborn enough to stay on top of a billboard for the rest of his life, and scared enough to cling to trees in dangerous weather conditions.
Well, that was too bad.
“Okay.” Sportacus finally said, staring straight back into Robbie’s eyes. “I said I wouldn’t push, and I won’t. But Robbie… I won’t hurt you. Ever. I promise.” He leaned in, and pressed his lips against the man’s forehead. “I love you.”
Robbie shuddered, and Sportacus leaned back to look at his face.
“I’m sorry…” Robbie murmured, not looking at him. Sportacus smiled weakly, and shifted so that he was in the man’s lap and snug up against him.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, and kissed Robbie’s neck. He felt Robbie’s arms wrap around him and hold him closer, like a large teddy bear. He sighed and let him hide his face against his neck, while he ran his hands through his hair and messed up the styling for the millionth time. He was considering stealing all of the man’s hair gel, because really Robbie did look much better without it all slathered against his head. And those sideburns needed to go too. But he was a hero, and stealing things was wrong.
But it wasn’t wrong if he just hid all of the things. That wasn’t stealing. He grinned a little to himself. He really loved loopholes.
The grin slipped a little as he thought about why Robbie would have scars on his feet, of all places, and why he was so sensitive about it. He couldn’t figure it out. Maybe he had walked over a bunch of sharp things and his feet got cut up. That would make sense, but… in that case, why would it be such a big deal? He knew Robbie was defensive about making mistakes, but lately he had started relaxing a little more about those kinds of things. There had to be something else going on, but Sportacus couldn’t figure out what it could be.
He resolved to figure it out the next time he got Robbie undressed. He started grinning again at that, though he tried to suppress it. It couldn’t be good to think about tricking the person you loved while simultaneously thinking impure thoughts. Besides, Robbie wasn’t in the mood at all.
His eyes widened and he shivered as someone’s tongue moved across his neck.
Or maybe not.
He hummed a little. Maybe finding out could wait…