Chapter 40

Shrimpo felt restless.

The full moon illuminated the darkness of the living room, yet Shrimpo felt nothing close to tired. His legs ached from all the pacing he was doing, circling the coffee table with softer steps.

He had never felt so restless in his life. He knew that it had only been a week of being stuck in this house, but it felt almost like a eternity already. On the couch a distance away was Boxten, who to his knowledge was still sound asleep. The lack of music unsettled him—he hadn't gone a night without it, even after Boxten's revelation of having the key be removable—but he tried to not let it bother him or interrupt his train of thought.

With every passing hour did he miss the sun on his shelled skin. He missed the grass under his feet, the wind gliding across hydrated wet flesh. His face crinkled as his brows furrowed, and he stifled a sound of despair as he reminisced.

A part of him wished to just go back to sleep, so that his despair wouldn't have to be continued alone, at least for a few more hours, yet even his brain reminded him of what had come before. In fact, his brain seemed to wish to torment him, as nightmares plagued his every thought.

He really tried to ignore it, yet it was persistent. The gaping maws of dogs that no longer could hurt him loomed over his sleeping mind like a storm brewing. The nipping cold of a fate that could've been plagued his vision with its bitter vengeance. He knew why the three-headed canine still followed him—he was sure the scars, both mental and physical, would never go away, with it also being the reason he was stuck in the first place—but the cold was what unsettled him the most.

Out of any dream he's had, which weren't many, this one was the strangest. His unconscious mind would find Shrimpo in a white void, the only sense decipherable was the feeling of his skin shrinking against a bitter winter. For once, he wasn't really alone in this dream, if he were to discredit the beast. Instead, there was himself and Boxten.

Boxten. The music box was a persistent thought in his mind. A reminder of why he still felt carpet beneath his feet and air in his chest. He half wondered if before, he was still in shock of what happened to really think about it, or if it simply would not make him feel better if he did.

But maybe, since they were safe now—at least, according to Boxten—that was when his brain wanted to remind him.

As much as death lingered outside, he'd rather risk that then here. Even though they had almost starved, frozen, and been mauled, he'd rather return to the tent then be here. He hated being in this house, he hated being near Pine, he hated everything about this. He felt his foot steps getting heavier as his pacing quickened, then slowed, then quickened again as his feelings rose.

He almost didn't care of the noise he was making. Hell, if he were anywhere stupid, then he'd be glad to let his anger be known. And yet the continuing fear held him back.

He didn't feel safe here, even with Pine's promises. Pine hadn't even done anything, and here he was acting as if they were a bad argument waiting to happen. He would win that fight, sure, but then, they wouldn't have a house anymore, which was more than fine with Shrimpo.

But not to Boxten.

Gosh, all of it happened to circle back to the music box. It felt almost constricting, yet the feeling in his chest felt him planted. He didn't want to leave Boxten behind, which was a weird thought to conjure all things considered, yet that was just how he felt.

He felt a lot of things for Boxten. Yet he was still paranoid.

Yet he wanted to stay for Boxten's sake; and he was right about one thing, his arm. He felt like he could handle himself just fine even with a bummed arm, but both Pine and Boxten disagreed.

And he didn't care what Pine felt about anything.

But he cared about Boxten.

...

Fuck, he cared about Boxten. Maybe too much for his own sensibility. A part of him didn't even know why!

He almost wanted to keep riding the train of thought, yet it derailed as he heard an all too familiar voice perk up behind him.

"...Shrimpo?"

Boxten.

The crustacean whipped around with a start, feeling like a startled cat as he stared at the lying form of the music box. He was propping himself up with his elbow, giving the crustacean an unpleased look. "What are you doing...?"

Shrimpo froze under his gaze. He flicked his gaze around comically, yet no excuse landed on his tongue. So he stood there, his posture slowly turning on the defensive. "UH..." He felt a scowl forming on his face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP?"

"Can you stop yelling?" Was Boxten's immediate response, letting out a grunt and shifting to sit upright. He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, then looked at an unresponsive shrimp. He huffed, "any way, your stomping is loud, if you haven't noticed. Now, why are you awake?"

Shrimpo didn't particularly appreciate Boxten's tone with him, yet he would be in a displeased mood if he was suddenly woken up. So he gave the box the benefit of the doubt, shaking his head slowly. "I couldn't sleep." He grumbled, tail fin flicking.

"And that makes you want to stomp around why?" Boxten was furrowing his brows at him.

Shrimpo simply shrugged, staring at the ground for a few heartbeats. He felt his face grow hot for a moment, but he was quick to shake it off. "Sorry." He simply said, twirling his bare foot against the carpet.

Silence lingered between the Toons for a few, long heartbeats, and Shrimpo wondered if Boxten would question him more. It wasn't something he wanted to particularly think about, especially since it regarded the Toon right in front of him.

Yet, Boxten broke the silence with a sigh, and lowered his side back into the cushions. "Just come back to sleep." He murmured, just loud enough for Shrimpo to hear. The crustacean's whiskers twitched, and the warmth spread further on his cheeks, yet he simply huffed in response.

Boxten was right, he did need to sleep. He didn't even know how long he'd been pacing for. So, on much softer steps, he approached the couch. Boxten was still as Shrimpo moved over him to be against the back of the couch, and he let out a content sigh as Boxten turned over to face Shrimpo.

The crustacean met eyes with the Toon before him, tucking his left arm uncomfortably in front of himself. He watched as Boxten's eyes flicked from him, to his arm, then back to Shrimpo.

The familiar tune of Boxten's music picked up in his ears.

He draped his left arm over Boxten, and stifled a sharp inhale as he felt Boxten reach down to drape the soft blanket over them, and reciprocate the action with his right arm across Shrimpo's back.

The two fell into a more comfortable silence. Shrimpo figured that sleeping would serve him well, and he let his head relax against their shared pillows. He ignored the fluttering at feeling Boxten's body heat beside him, or how comfortably Boxten supported his back, or the sound of his music, or—

"Did you have another nightmare?"

He cracked open his eyes to stare at the music box. Boxten still had his eyes closed, yet Shrimpo knew he was still awake.

The crustacean was admittedly hesitant to answer, yet he sighed. "Yeah," Shrimpo responded, shutting his eyes and leaning his head down. His tail fin flicked regardless of how much he tried to relax.

He felt the hand resting on his back begin to rub small circles. He grumbled.

"...was it the same as last time?" Boxten kept his voice barely above a whisper, drowsiness clear in his tone.

Shrimpo would answer no, not because it wasn't, but because it wasn't the same every time. Technically, it was the same dream—in theme at least.

Yet, he still sighed. "Yeah," he spoke, more defeated.

There was a weird, calm tingle in his throat, and he stifled it down with a swallow as Boxten's hand kept rubbing at him. He screwed his eyes tighter, tail thumping.

"Relax..." He heard Boxten's voice above him, the hand coming from his back to the middle of his shoulders. "It's okay. I don't really know how to help with nightmares..."

"And you think I do?" Shrimpo's tone edged with a snap, yet his voice stayed low. His whiskers twitched, and he let out a grumble.

"No..." He heard Boxten sigh, then Shrimpo froze as he felt a pressure against his forehead. He opened his eyes a crack to see Boxten had them forehead to forehead. His voice lowered to a whisper. "But I know what its like to have them. You already know that. I've learned that not thinking about it helps."

Shrimpo didn't feel comforted at that. "How can I not think about it?" His tone edged with sarcasm, and he felt himself pressing his forehead back at Boxten. He frowned. "Especially since it's not even—not even..."

"Not even what?" That was when Boxten opened his eyes to stare back at Shrimpo. He felt his body lightly shudder at the met gaze.

"Not even... made-up." Shrimpo murmured, head tail thumping once more. "...it's all stuff that's happened."

"Like?" Boxten urged on.

"Like... the dog." Shrimpo wasn't sure what had gotten into him, yet he couldn't stop himself from talking. He wondered if it was the lack of sleep. "And the snow and... everything. Back at the tent."

Shrimpo was gripping at Boxten's shirt with his free left hand. He raised his voice with every word. "A—and I don't know why." His frown deepened, brow furrowing as he stared blankly ahead of him, which happened to be Boxten's neck. "I liked being at the tent and yet so much shit happened there. Too much shit. And I don't know why my brain keeps thinking about it, especially when it wasn't a issue before!"

"Shrimpo." The palm stilled, and Shrimpo refocused his vision to Boxten's face. He held a solemn look, which the crustacean in turn returned. He let out a small huff and pressed the side of his face to the pillow below him.

"I know." The shrimp grumbled, avoiding looking at Boxten now. "It's stupid. Everything about this is stupid. You're stupid." The insult lacked any venom, but he didn't care.

"It's not stupid." Boxten was quick to dismiss, a gentleness to his tone that made Shrimpo want to bury his face further. "You should take this seriously..."

"I am." Shrimpo spat with a glare. "It's just some stupid dreams, I'll be fine! Shit could be worse."

"It could..." He heard Boxten mumble in agreement, and the hand picked up motion. The soft touch was comforting, even if Boxten's words weren't. He'd rather take silence.

And silence was what he received. The two spoke not, Shrimpo simply playing with the fabric of Boxten's shirt in his blunt fingertips. He felt sleep tugging at the corners of his mind and he let out a long yawn, bumping his head against the bottom edge of Boxten's head.

And almost immediately felt a sharp prick to his forehead.

He let out a high pitched yelp, which caused Boxten to flinch in turn. His left hand flew to his head, the movement sending an aching pain through his ichor. He prodded at his forehead as the pain almost immediately began to fade, noting nothing except his own flesh.

He looked up to see an astonished Boxten staring at him. He stared back.

"What??" Boxten blurted, clearly looking panicked.

"Something just stuck me!" Shrimpo blurted back, still massaging his forehead before lowering his left hand, clenching his fist. "Was that your face?"

"No???" Boxten adverted his gaze in different directions, sounding more awake than before. Shrimpo's whiskers twitched at that, and without thinking reached his left hand to paw at Boxten's face.

The music box leaned somewhat away at the action, yet said nothing as Shrimpo traced a finger against the wood of his head. Sure enough, there was something sharp, poking out of the edges of his face. He drew his hand from his chin, to the corners, to the side of his head.

"What are you doing?" Boxten bluntly spoke, looking puzzled, even uncomfortable.

"Are—Are you growing a beard??" Shrimpo furrowed his brows at him.

"I—I shouldn't be???" The music box blinked dumbfounded at the crustacean, brows raised. "I don't have hair???"

Shrimpo narrowed his eyes, pinching at the edges of his head. He heard Boxten take in a sharp inhale of breath as something pressed against scarred fingertips, and he plucked it out.

A small, thin piece of wood.

He spun it in his hand as he drew his hand back. "Shit." Shrimpo murmured, which earned a worried squeak from Boxten.

"What? What is it???" He frowned, staring at Shrimpo.

Instead of verbally answering him, Shrimpo went back to feeling around the music box's head. Still, Boxten didn't move as Shrimpo felt more tiny, almost splintery sized wood sticking out from the edges and even on the flat sides. His whiskers twitched and he frowned. "You're splintering like crazy."

"I am???" Boxten sounded genuinely surprised. Worried even.

Shrimpo's head fin flicked once. "Yeah. Can't barely see it tho—"

An idea suddenly occurred to him, and he lifted his upper body. Boxten stared at him with a quirked brow, watching as Shrimpo moved over him onto the ground, now standing. "C'mon."

Boxten blinked, key stuttering. Yet, without comment, he rose with a tired huff, and Shrimpo took Boxten's hand to lead him past the couch into the hallway.

He dragged the half-awake music box toward the end of the hallway where the bathroom was. He had to reach on his tippy-toes to flick the light switch on, and squinted as yellow light filled the room. He heard a groan from Boxten behind him.

Shrimpo didn't bother to shut the door and he turned to face Boxten, who was half squinting, half lightheartedly glaring at the crustacean infront of him.

Shrimpo only twitched his whiskers at the look, and grabbed Boxten by the head, leaning him down and getting a good look, Boxten only making a small sound of protest. Sure enough, when he looked closely, it almost looked fuzzy around his corners and edges. How Shrimpo or even Boxten didn't notice before was lost to him, but then again, Shrimpo wasn't the type to look at people for longer than he had to. "Yeah, you got that shit on your corners."

"Great." Boxten deadpanned, leaning away from Shrimpo's hold. The crustacean brought his hands to his own person as Boxten then sighed, looking himself in the sinks mirror. He moved to stand directly infront of the counter, standing on his own toes to try and see.

To no one's surprise, he sighed after a moment of squinting and deciphering nothing. "I can't even see it. Even more great." He let out a long, tired sigh. "Does Pine even have tweezers?"

Shrimpo simply shrugged. He didn't even know what tweezers were, but he assumed it was some kind of splinter-removal tool. Regardless, he tilted his head and looked at the mirror himself. He could see the subtle splintering from where he was standing, even if it was only the top half of Boxten's head from the glass. "I dunno." He twirled his foot. "Y'know, I could just get them out."

"You'd want to?" Boxten quickly turned his head to face Shrimpo, key turning quickly for a second, then slowing into a soft churn. "You don't have to, I could just do it in the morning—"

"Don't worry about it." Shrimpo grumbled, and Boxten adverted his gaze as Shrimpo approached to stand next to him near the sink counter.

He quickly realized that only his eyes reached the top of the counter, and he let out another grumble. At least it was shorter than the kitchen counter. Yet, regardless, Boxten backed up as with a grunt of effort, Shrimpo planted his hands against the counter and tried to hoist himself on top of it.

"Shrimpo!" Boxten blinked at him, worry edging his tone.

"What? I got this, just— hold on!" He retorted, surprised that he'd been keeping his voice relatively low until now. After a few more failed attempts, he hissed in agitation, and looked around quickly for anything to stand on. The closed toilet caught his eye, and he was quick to use the lid as a step stool, proceeding to crawl onto the counter with relative ease, albeit having to balance while doing so.

He shifted his position to where he sat on the counter like a chair, legs dangling off the ledge. Then he looked up toward Boxten in the doorway, who looked especially dumbfounded at the pro-climbing the shrimp had just accomplished.

Shrimpo's whiskers twitched and he beckoned Boxten over with a hand. "What're you standing there for? Get over here."

Boxten stood for another few seconds, yet nodded and very gingerly stood infront of the shrimp. There was still distance however, which Shrimpo wasn't going to particularly complain about. He did find it weird that the box looked quite flushed, for whatever reason, he didn't know.

Regardless, he, as gently as he could, returned his hands to Boxten's head, edging him closer to him. Boxten didn't make eye contact, simply staring toward the ground as Shrimpo looked over Boxten's head. The light provided by the bulbs above the mirror behind him was enough that, at the right angle, his shadow wouldn't block Boxten's face, and he could see the splinters much better under the light.

"Damn, you got a lot of it." Shrimpo half-minded commented as, with his fingers, he plucked the largest ones first. It didn't seem to pain Boxten, at least not audibly, he wasn't really paying any attention to his face. "How come you can't see this?"

Boxten was silent for a long while, and Shrimpo wondered if he had hit a sore spot. Yet he heard a sigh shortly after, "Well, I just can't. I've known my eyes suck for a while now. Years, even."

"Then get glasses." Shrimpo deadpanned, which Boxten let out a quick chortle at that.

"You think I didn't try?" He lightly laughed at himself, which turned into a sigh. "But... y'know. Betty didn't believe me, or maybe she thought I didn't need them... or maybe didn't want me to get any in case I went 'too off script' or something."

Shrimpo only huffed at that, and continued working. His fingertips were already beginning to hurt, and he'd barely started. Curse his stupid surgically short fingers! Yet he didn't complain, and silence droned for a short while between them.

The crustacean shook out his hand after a minute, then switched to his other hand, which cupped at the side of Boxten's head to keep it up. The music box let his head rest against it almost immediately at the switch. It was hard to see thanks to his shadow, but just feeling around and getting the big ones out was getting some of the job done. He made sure to avoid the bandage that still lingered on one of the corners. It had been changed out a few times, getting smaller with each change. By now, he probably didn't need it, but Shrimpo was no medical expert to make that call.

After a few long moments did Boxten speak, voice gentler, tireder. "She didn't believe me with a lot of my issues, really. She tried to help... but a lot of it was just a bunch of empty promises. I guess she thought it'd make me feel better but..." He sighed. "It never did."

Boxten's handler. Shrimpo knew how he felt about the woman, or really any other Toon's handlers. He simply didn't care. He let out a grumble regardless, as he tried and failed to pull out the thinner chips.

Despite his growing frustration—he hadn't even reached the back of Boxten's head yet—he still huffed. "I hate liars." His whiskers twitched.

"So do I." Boxten agreed with another wistful sigh. "A lot of the Toons were like her, y'know?"

Shrimpo's whiskers twitched at that, and he paused his hand to fully look at Boxten. "They were?"

"Yeah." Boxten met his gaze with a flick of his eyes, then slowly closed them. "Even ones I called my friends. I don't think they realized that words don't really do anything if nothing really changes."

Shrimpo felt his tail fin flick, and he turned back to the job at hand. "We can agree on that part." He snickered. "Those guys are fucking idiots."

"I wouldn't say that." Boxten's key had begun to turn, albeit slowly. By now, Shrimpo had gotten most of the chips near the front out, but numerous smaller ones still lingered, no matter how much he tried to pry it out with his fingers. He grumbled to himself as Boxten continued. "I think they meant for the best but... I don't know. A lot of them never really cared about me, I could just tell..."

The thoughts won out, and Shrimpo took Boxten's head into both of his hands.

"I'm sure you'd know what that's like, right?"

Without warning, Shrimpo brought the corner of Boxten's face to his mouth, and chomped down. He heard a surprised squeak from the music box as he successfully plucked out one of the smaller splinters from his head. He felt his tail lightly wag at the successful attempt.

He spat out the chip toward the floor—where he'd been throwing all the small chips, he hoped Pine wouldn't complain about it—and looked back to see Boxten staring at him wide-eyed.

So Shrimpo stared back. Neither of the two said anything for a uncomfortable amount of time, it being especially strange seeing how weirdly red Boxten looked, despite being purple.

"What?" Shrimpo blinked, whiskers twitching.

"I—" Boxten sounded choked up, as if he was about to cry, yet Shrimpo couldn't see tears building in his eyes. The music box blinked, swallowed, then spoke. "What did you just do??"

"Uh... take a splinter out?"

"Wh—With your teeth???" Boxten furrowed his brows at him.

"Yes??" Shrimpo glared back. "My fingers weren't fucking working and—look do you want me to help you or not?"

"Well, yeah! But I—" The music box's expression fell and he swallowed again. "I just wasn't- I wasn't expecting that, sorry."

Shrimpo just rolled his eyes, keeping his head in his hands. "It's whatever, quit apologizing so much." His tail fin then flicked. "But, its kinda hard to do this with you so far away, and I can't get the small ones with my fingers." Not to mention the back of his head.

Boxten adverted his gaze for a moment, tilting his head slightly, then sighing. "Did you want me to like, lean closer?"

Shrimpo shrugged. "If you want me to do this, you're gonna have to."

"Okay..." Boxten exhaled, then met Shrimpo's gaze. "Can you get the ones on my face first, at least?"

Shrimpo was quick to nod, and with that, he looked over Boxten's face again. Most of it was minor, likely enough that it wouldn't bother either of them, but the ones that jutted out more, he was able to pull out with his front teeth.

Boxten stayed silent throughout the process, not looking at Shrimpo as he practically nibbled at him. Once Boxten's face and the sides of him was done, Shrimpo flicked his eyes up to his lid. He stuck his tongue out in thought.

"Hm." His whiskers twitched. "I need to get your lid, then the back of ya."

Boxten nodded. "Okay... um... I—If you need to like, like reach, I can...uh..."

Shrimpo tilted his head as Boxten adverted his gaze. There was a moment of silence, Boxten took in a quick breath of air, then slowly wrapped his arms around Shrimpo's waist, and proceeded to bump his head against Shrimpo's chest. "Is this good?"

The crustacean was still where he sat for a second, but nodded regardless, ignoring the weird feeling beginning to flutter in his chest. "Uh— Yeah. That works."

With the new position, he didn't need to hold onto Boxten's head anymore. Instead, both hands could focus on pawing at the surface of Boxten's lid, plucking and biting out any loose wood chips. It was silence for a long while, until Shrimpo noted that the back of the head was all he needed to do.

"Hey, can you move your head down?" He murmured.

Boxten didn't speak, yet moved from leaning his forehead against Shrimpo to the full top of his head, his gaze forced downward.

"Thanks." Shrimpo's whiskers twitched, and the process began again.

For a few moments, it was quiet with the only sound being from Boxten's music. Shrimpo was beginning to note that it was quite difficult to move his head with a spinning key jabbing at him, but for now, he wouldn't comment, focusing on the edges before moving to the middle and back.

It wouldn't be too long before someone broke the silence, being Boxten. "...Did you hear what I said earlier?"

"What was that?" Shrimpo spoke with a wood chip in his mouth, only to spit it out a second later.

"About... about knowing what it's like to not be cared about?"

Shrimpo went silent for a second, even pausing the movement of his hands. His whiskers twitched, his head fin flicked. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Uh..." He looked down at the back of Boxten's head. "...I mean. I don't care if people didn't care about me."

"I know you don't... but... y'know what I mean?" Boxten lifted his head enough to meet eye-to-eye with Shrimpo. "Doesn't it hurt? For you?"

"I don't care." Shrimpo furrowed his brow. He looked away. "I hated everyone, I couldn't care less how they thought about me."

Boxten's brows upturned, a solemn look now on his face. "You would've had to if you wanted to leave, y'know."

Shrimpo let out a growl, and glared at Boxten. His tail lashed slightly. "What do you know? You didn't even want to leave!"

"I know." Boxten looked down, letting out a soft exhale. "But... I—I don't regret leaving with you."

The crustacean blinked at that. "What?"

"I don't regret leaving with you. Hell, I don't regret... I don't regret any of this." The music box looked around the room for a second before returning his eyes to Shrimpo. "I like being here with you, with Pine, and out of Gardenview. I don't know about you, but I've been... a lot happier here than I was back at the center."

Shrimpo could only stare at him, the fluttering only growing as the two held gazes. It was made even worse as Boxten then smiled at him.

The crustacean broke the staring contest with a shake of his head. He cleared his throat. "That's stupid." He surmised with a twitch of his whiskers, swinging his legs slightly.

"How so?" Boxten tilted his head, and Shrimpo noticed how he still held Boxten's head in his hands.

Shrimpo stuttered on his words. "UH—Well, you— You never even wanted to be here in the first place! You hated it!"

"I did... at first. I got used to it." Boxten blinked at him.

"Even after everything?" Shrimpo found his voice had lowered almost to a sickeningly soft degree. His face felt the tingle of a blush.

"Yeah." Boxten hummed, still holding eye contact with Shrimpo. The crustacean didn't even know why he'd begun to feel so nervous. "And anyways, we're safe now. We don't need to worry about it anymore."

The nervousness was suddenly changed to fresh agitation, and Shrimpo looked down with a huff and furrowed brows. He frowned.

He still felt Boxten's eyes on him. "What?" He heard Boxten question, feeling him relax in his hands.

Shrimpo sharply exhaled in his newfound anger, and looked down instead. "I wouldn't— I wouldn't really... UGH!" He spat, letting go of Boxten and slamming his palms against the counter. "I HATE BEING HERE!"

He saw Boxten flinch out of the corner of his eye, and he felt a flash of guilt at that. Yet his whiskers were frazzled and he clenched his teeth hard.

He was only broken out of this daze when he felt one of the hands on his back remove themselves from him, only to find fixture on his face. He froze under the touch, instinctively flicking his gaze to stare at Boxten.

"Is this what this is about?" Boxten's voice was far too soft. "...Is this about being here with Pine?"

He could assume this was referring to earlier before Boxten woke up. Shrimpo could only grumble and lean away from the hand that touched him. "It's whatever." He grumbled. "You're right about it being safe."

"Not when you're uncomfortable being here." Boxten dipped his head. He looked down. "...Is being here making you so uncomfortable?"

Shrimpo didn't want to answer that. Being at Pine's had its advantages, he knew that. But he... He just...

...

"I understand." Boxten looked down, breaking their eye contact. Shrimpo felt himself frowning. "If you really want to leave, we can. I know they wanted to wait until your arm was healed, but if you're suffering so much—"

"I'm not—" Shrimpo cut himself off, and froze as Boxten turned to look at him. He felt himself shaking, and he looked down, shaking his head. "It's—"

He hated that he couldn't just talk. He didn't talk, not like this. As much as he talked so highly of himself, especially in the past, he never really... talked about himself. Feeling so vulnerable felt so, so wrong, in every sense of the word, and with Boxten expectantly waiting in front of him wasn't making him feel better.

But he didn't want to make Boxten do something he didn't want to! Boxten was right, they stayed for his arm, not Pine themself. Shrimpo was being so stupid for being so scared; Pine was such a pushover, he knew that logically, they wouldn't do anything to hurt him. But here he was, scared.

He took in a breath, ignoring how tears came to prick at his eyes. He shook his head. "I... It's—It's not the house. That I don't like."

Boxten continued to stare at him, and Shrimpo looked up to see him tilting his head. "...Then, is it Pine?"

Shrimpo looked down, looked toward the side, looked at Boxten, then looked down again. He closed his eyes, took in a breath, and nodded.

"Oh..." Boxten's voice went quiet. The two sat in silence for a while, before he felt that hand return to his back. As if grounding him out of his thoughts. "...I understand."

"Do you really?" Shrimpo's voice was low with a lingering sharp edge. He watched from the corner of his eye to Boxten looking down.

"I... I think. I don't know... the humans usually just... ignored me, most of the time. Like a lot of the Toons." He felt a thumb rub at his back, and Shrimpo continued to shake as Boxten continued to speak. "But..."

He heard Boxten sigh, and Shrimpo finally lifted his head to meet eye-to-eye with Boxten. The music box took in a breath before continuing. "I'm not going to ask questions you don't want to answer. I... I know something happened to you and... and your handler. It's kind of obvious..."

Shrimpo watched as Boxten glanced at the hands that were idling near the crustacean's person. A twist in his chest resulted in that stare, even as Boxten looked away. His key continued to play its song. "But you know that Pine isn't like him. Pine has told me themself that they have no intentions of hurting us, and they want us to feel safe in their home, and I have no reason to not believe them."

Shrimpo's brows furrowed, hands shaking. "You can't make me trust them."

"I wasn't saying that." Boxten's expression softened. "I... I just want you to try. I want to make this work, and you told me you'd try to make this work too. But shutting Pine out at every opportunity isn't going to help anybody, not even yourself."

He watched as Boxten frowned, bringing a hand to wipe at his face. "I don't want you to be miserable here. Not like how I was when we first came to the woods. I want you to be happy."

Shrimpo stared at Boxten. Boxten stared back, a solemn look adorning him.

The crustacean didn't really know how to feel. Yet his chest seemed to make up its mind, swirling with strong emotion that Shrimpo didn't want to unravel.

So, he sighed, whiskers falling loose from his face. He shook his head. "...I don't know how to trust Pine." He spoke lowly, brows beginning to furrow.

"Then let me help you." Boxten brought himself closer, until he was hugging the crustacean, leaning his head against his shoulder. "Like you've helped me."

Shrimpo's tail couldn't help but wag a little, and the crustacean grumbled as he pushed Boxten's body away. "Okay, okay. No need to get all sappy with me."

Boxten couldn't help but crack a small smile at that. Then, he looked down. "We don't have to rush things after all. And again, after your arm is okay, we can leave."

"I know." Shrimpo nodded, adverting his gaze. His tail drooped, and he let out a sigh as he reached for Boxten's head again, cupping it in his hands. "Ok, can we just get this over with now?"

Boxten's brows raised at the action, but then seemed to melt into the touch. "Yeah. 'M tired, anyways."

So, returning to their previous position, Shrimpo returned to effectively smoothing out Boxten's edges. Of course, he couldn't get every little splinter, but he was able to get most of them. During this, he found himself fed up with the key smacking him in the face, and with the consent of Boxten, promptly removed it.

By the time he was getting the bottom back edge plucked smooth, Boxten was practically leaning most of his weight against Shrimpo, head pressed heavy against his stomach and arms loosely wrapped around his waist. He almost wondered if Boxten had fallen asleep, if the neck pain wasn't a issue, but after letting out a content huff after getting the last noticeable chip out did Boxten let out a hum. "What's up?"

"I think I got it all." Shrimpo nodded and leaned back to let Boxten lift his head. "If your head is all that the splinters resided then I got them all out! Minus the super tiny ones."

Boxten gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, really. If there are ones on my body, I could just get them out, don't worry."

Shrimpo simply nodded with a wag of his tail. He caught himself giving Boxten a small smile, and he was quick to clear his throat and advert his eyes. "Yeah, uh." He swung his legs, then noted how Boxten still stood between them. He looked up to meet Boxten's gaze, forming his mouth into a straight line. "Uhhh... So, now what?"

Boxten shrugged, only to let out a yawn and smack his lips. "Well, I 'unno about you, but I wanna go back to sleep."

The crustacean nodded once more, before Boxten moved backward to let Shrimpo leap off from the counter with a thud. Then, taking Boxten's key off of the counter, the two exited with a flick of the light switch.

The walk back to the couch was quiet, and Shrimpo twirled the key in his blunt hands. "Alrighty." He murmured, looking toward Boxten who was settling on the couch. "Want to get this key back in there?"

Boxten glanced at him as he shifted to lie down. He paused, leaning on his side, as if thinking. Then, to the surprise of Shrimpo, he flopped over onto his back.

The look that crossed over Boxten's face was almost enough to send Shrimpo into a state of awe. He gripped the key in his hand.

"...Boxten?" He questioned with a tilt of his head.

"I think I'm good." Boxten said in a scarily monotone voice, a giddy smile adorning his face. He was staring at the ceiling as if it was the galaxy. He flicked his gaze over toward Shrimpo.

Shrimpo stared back, then nodded, tossing the key mindlessly onto the coffee table. "Alright." He shrugged, then moved over to the couch. While Boxten still hung to the left edge of the couch, there was far less room for him to sleep.

Regardless, Shrimpo moved to the right side and settled under the covers onto his right arm with ease, laying out his left arm over Boxten's stomach. He made a surprised sound as Boxten took his right arm and wrapped it around him, pulling him closer against his chest.

He felt his face flush at that, but he ignored it, choosing to just relax his head against the pillows, snout pressed against Boxten's neck.

He felt a hand lingering near the top shell of his tail, but he found himself too tired to care. His eyes felt heavy, and feeling smooth wood against his face was comforting enough, along with the antique smell of Boxten.

For the first time in a long time, the two fell asleep in pure, comfortable silence, the only sound being their synced breathing.