#purple *stitch liloandstitch voice*: it's little and broken but still good. yeah. still good

[roseverdict]

A New Normal

After the events of the Nether Battle, Mango and Purple try to figure out where they stand with each other. When Purple sees Mango as a father figure (and has serious baggage regarding parental authority) and Mango is still trying to regain control of his temper (after all, he'd been in a grief-stricken rage for months beforehand), however, things don't always go as planned.

Sometimes they react on instinct in the worst ways possible.

Also on AO3! link in rbs so tumblr doesn't hide this haha

so. i'm writing abt sticks now. the adhd event is UNREAL this month fdsahfjkslfhlsdj hurt/comfort bc i just Can't Not

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Mango flicked through his wallet and grimaced.

As it turned out, a side effect of pouring himself into his quest for vengeance had been focusing purely on that. Not on anything that could have happened after.

(Of course, Mango knew the real reason for his shortsightedness had been far more deliberate, but he didn't really want to unpack all of that quite yet.)

As a result, his spending habits had worked under the belief that he wouldn't need to worry about money once he finished the job. Getting ahold of a command block without going into Minecraft himself had cost him quite a pretty penny, and so had the constant purchases of metals and magics.

And yet, here he was, dethroned, directionless, and somehow done with his plans anyway.

His wallet and the measly handful of bills inside were mocking him.

He would need to figure out a way to build his savings back up, and fast, or else-

"Uh…hey, Mango," came Purple's voice from the kitchen/den/entryway, "did you want me to start on dinner? I think I'm getting pretty decent at boxed macaroni."

Mango closed his wallet and poked his head out from the bedroom hallway. "Sounds good. I'll be right out."

Purple nodded and walked just around the corner, and Mango heard them start running the faucet.

Mango stepped back and slumped against the wall. Hopefully he'd be able to scrape together enough for a grocery run soon; he wasn't sure how many more days in a row he could eat macaroni before he got sick of it.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Stickdeed. There had to be something out there somewhere that paid enough to support two people instead of just one person- and one person who was able to cheat and spawn his own food into reality, at that.

He scrolled almost mindlessly past the dozens he'd already applied for in the past few days, already knowing that any more attempts would get him a "Sorry, you've already applied here!" page and nothing else. There looked to be one from a small, locally-owned business on the outskirts of town that had just opened up recently, so he sent in his resumé and went looking for the next one-

Something crashed to the ground in the kitchen with a clatter and a splat, and Purple yelped in surprise.

Mango was already scrambling out into the main room by the time he fully processed what he'd heard, and by that point he could already see the absolute mess of moist noodles on the floor, the newly-dented pot rolling slowly away, and the completely-frozen Purple standing between the sink and the stove.

No, wait, on a closer look, Purple was shaking slightly.

Oh boy.

"Purple?" asked Mango, carefully stepping forward.

As if jolted into motion, Purple dropped down to the floor and hastily started scooping the fallen pasta back into the pot. "I-it's fine, nothing's broken, haha, I just dropped it but I'll take care of it, I promise-"

"Purple, breathe," Mango pressed, stepping a little closer.

This got Purple to breathe, but much too quickly to be any good. "Y-you don't have to worry, I'll get this cleaned up and get dinner going i-in just a few!"

And in a moment that he immediately regretted, he snapped:

"Purple, listen to me!"

Purple went as still as a statue, then nodded meekly.

Right away, Mango wanted to hit himself. Barely a week after the Incident and he was already blowing it. Good going, genius.

He swallowed, then tried again. "Look, I promise I'm not mad at you. It's probably a good idea for you to go cool down a bit, alright? I'll get this cleaned up."

Blankly, Purple nodded, then got up and walked stiffly away.

Mango dropped his head into his hands.

He wasn't sure which would be worse: if he'd done all of that to Purple himself…

…or if somebody else had gotten the ball rolling for him.

Still, the mess wouldn't clean itself up.

Mango picked up where Purple had left off and scooped the remaining noodles into the dented pot, nearly scalding himself in doing so before he remembered he still had a roll of paper towel on the counter.

How hadn't Purple reacted to the heat of the water? Or of the noodles, for that matter-

-and that was enough thinking about that sort of thing for one night. He was already spiraling; he didn't need to make it worse.

A glint of light got in his eye when he shifted to collect the last few noodles, and when he looked for the source, the framed photo of himself and Goldenrod reflected the setting sun directly into his eyes.

Mango sighed, hefted the pot onto the counter, and picked up the frame.

Goldie sat on his shoulders, draping himself over Mango's head and waving to the camera with one hand. Mango himself was caught mid-laugh.

The two of them looked so happy.

What would his son think of him now?

He let himself sag a little, then steeled himself and marched himself to the bedroom hallway.

(Well, it felt like marching, anyway. To any outside observers, it probably would have looked more like a nervous shuffle.)

His own door was still closed, as it had been before, but Purple's door, usually open save for when they were trying to sleep, was closed as well.

Mango took a steadying breath, lifted his hand, and knocked gently. "Purple? You okay in there?"

"…yes."

Mango bit back the instinctive urge to point out how stilted their response had been and instead turned so his back was leaning against the door. "That's…that's good to hear."

God, how was conversation so difficult?!

"I, uh…I wanted to apologize," said Mango, fiddling with the frame in his hands. "I snapped at you earlier when you were already panicking. I, uh…I shouldn't have done that. I could probably blame it on my temper, but that wouldn't change the fact that I still raised my voice at you when it was the opposite of a good idea. I'm…I'm sorry, Purple."

There was no response.

Mango grimaced. "I…I can't guarantee that I won't slip up like that again. I think I'd been so focused on my plans for so long, it's…it's hard not to slide right back into that mindset. I can tell you that I'll try, however. You deserve at least that much."

Still nothing.

After a moment more, Mango slid down until he was sitting at the base of the door. With a bitter smile, he snorted. "Don't know why you stick around, honestly. I…I hurt you with a lot more than with a frustrated order. You didn't deserve any of it, but I still gave it to you anyway."

His mind helpfully brought up how often he'd snapped at, swiped at, and even (in one particular noteworthy instance) slammed Purple into the ground several stories below.

"You're a good kid, y'know that?" Mango was saying now, no longer quite as able to keep his mouth in check and scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. "You deserve so much better than an angry old man like me. I'm so sorry, kid, I-"

The door opened inwards, and Mango felt himself tip backwards for a moment ("Whoa-!") before he was being twisted around and clung to like a lifeline.

He swallowed the rising lump in his throat and shifted slightly so he could return Purple's hug without his lower back screaming at him.

Purple sniffled into his shoulder, then managed a quiet, "S'okay."

It really wasn't, said a part of Mango's mind that had been all-too-happy to come back to life that day in the Nether. The kid shouldn't be just accepting this, what the hell?! Who hurt them? Besides Mango himself, of course.

"…you wanna go out for dinner?" asked Mango unsurely. "Maybe…I don't know, pizza or something?"

Purple snorted wetly and nodded. "Sounds good. And…you're not that old."