Chapter Text
Being part of a family had its ups and downs. On the one hand, sometimes it was nice to have that extra support, those people around that actually claimed to care about you, even if Turbo struggled to believe it sometimes. Some days, he’d find it easier, including himself in their activities, not allowing himself to fall victim to the illusion that they secretly still hated him. In fact, it had been clear to him for a while now that Ralph, Felix, and Calhoun had been trying much harder to meet him at his level, though Turbo couldn’t be sure if that was truly for his sake, if it was to keep Vanellope happy, or if it was out of some sort of lingering guilt for their part in having him caged and suicidal. Maybe some combination of all three.
Whatever the reason may be, it did usually help him to relax, to participate in their antics without the looming discomfort of being judged overwhelming him too much. But, other days, he’d hate being around people. He’d struggle to participate, oftentimes for reasons he was too prideful to admit.
This had been one of those “other” days.
“Turbo?”
“Hm?” Ralph’s voice had called the Cy-bug out of a disoriented stupor, glancing up from the food in front of him that he’d barely touched. “What?”
“You okay over there?” Ralph asked between bites of his sandwich, one eyebrow raised. “You’ve been spacing out a lot today.”
Damn it all. So it had been too noticeable.
It didn’t help that they’d spent most of their time that day doing a lot of walking… At first, he’d been managing to tolerate it, but by the time they’d all returned to the castle to eat together, Turbo’s senses were a jumbled mess, trying too hard to focus on ignoring such irritating sensations while still trying to appear normal on the outside, and it left him in a foggy daze more times than he’d like to admit.
“Oh, just a little tired, is all.” He waved them off, presenting himself casually in spite of his rapidly-growing discomfort. In an attempt to save face, he used that excuse to distance himself, standing up from where he’d laid. “I think I’ll turn in early tonight. I’ll be seeing you all tomorrow, I assume?”
“Yeah, we’ll be back tomorrow night. Got our game night plans with the rest of the racers, remember?” Felix pointed out before waving him off. “Well, in any case, have a good sleep, neighbour!”
Turbo responded with nothing more than a passive nod before walking off towards the fungeon. Felix watched him go, frowning slightly. Once the Cy-bug was out of earshot, he redirected his stare towards the others. “Is it just me, or was he limping a little more than usual?”
“I was wondering the same thing.” Ralph admitted. “Definitely seemed pretty out of it…”
Vanellope started to get up. “I’ll go make sure he’s oka–”
“Don’t.” Calhoun was last to speak, an oddly cognizant look in her eye, as she stood up instead, “Let me do it this time.”
-
Well… This was going to be awkward to explain.
Strewn across the floor of the dungeon, his prosthetic had laid in torn-apart pieces. Yet again, his Cy-bug half had taken him over in a moment of impulsive violence, the pain the prosthetic had been causing him all day having finally sent him over the edge.
But now, he was left with the dilemma of how exactly he was going to address this. He’d have to come up with some sort of excuse by tomorrow, lest they find out he was the one who went and destroyed the product of Calhoun’s work…
Unfortunately for him, he was too out of it to notice Calhoun already lingering by the doorway. She took one look around at the shattered prosthetic pieces scattered about the room, then her stare had settled on the exhausted Cy-bug lying in the corner. “Wasn’t a good fit, I take it?”
Her voice startled him out of his pained stupor, eyes snapping towards the door where she stood. A flood of options rushed through his head on what to say, how to salvage this, but all he managed to end up saying in the moment was an awkward, embarrassed “I didn’t mean to break it.”
Rather than the annoyance or misgivings Candy had expected from her, Calhoun simply shrugged, appearing completely unbothered. “No skin off my back. Just means you’ll have to wait a bit for us to make a new one.” She walked further into his quarters, picking up the broken pieces which attached to his leg, in order to compare measurement sizes later. Then, she made eye contact with Turbo, though she kept her gaze non-judgmental. “For future reference, though, I’d prefer you let us know sooner if they’re not fitting right. There’s no point in using a prosthetic that hurts.”
Perhaps pain had been clouding his judgment too much to come up with a more articulate response, as all he could manage in the moment was a nod, followed by an awkward “Okay” that irritated him to his core with how inadequate his current presentation felt. But, Calhoun still treated him casually as ever, taking no mind in his less-composed demeanor.
“Good.” Once Calhoun had gathered what she needed, she headed back towards the door. “I’ll have another one made for you soon.”
-
True to her word, Calhoun had a replacement made in only a matter of days, and this one had been a much better fit. It didn’t take him nearly as long to get used to it, and most days, he managed to function almost like normal. More importantly, he was having a somewhat easier time interacting with the others while not feeling like he hated everyone and everything, or vice versa.
Today had been a prime example, Candy and Felix having kept each other company while Vanellope had been monitoring Sugar Rush’s roster race. They’d even been joined by Gloyd Orangeboar, the boy wanting to show off a recording he’d captured of his most recent prank on Gene the other day. Anything to do with tormenting Gene, King Candy would gladly indulge in.
The video had shown Gloyd bringing a ‘gift box’ to one of the many penthouse parties hosted in Fix-It Felix Jr., ‘To everybody’s favourite mayor’ labelled on the box’s tag. Then, Gloyd fast-forwarded to the moment Gene found the bait laid out for him, only for the box to have exploded in a mess of gooey bubblegum the second the Nicelander opened it, falling over in a sticky mess of pink, and shouting whatever obscenities his game would allow.
“Oh, that is glorious.” King Candy snickered, relishing in Gene’s recorded turmoil. Jokingly, he added, “You’re probably going to get banned from the penthouse for life, though.”
“Ohhh, he can try! Gonna take a lot more than one angry Gene to keep me out!” Gloyd giggled back, then sent a fake-innocent big-eyed stare Felix’s way, “You’d still let me in, wouldn’t you, Felix?”
In response, Felix gave the top of Gloyd’s hat some light pats and teased, “Maybe if you can behave, you lil’ rascal!”
“Heya, fellas!”
All of their heads turned towards the castle entrance from which Vanellope had entered, greeting them chipperly.
“Hey, kiddo!” Felix greeted back, “How’d the roster race go?”
“Ahh, same old, same old.” She replied, skipping past them and digging out some art supplies from a nearby cabinet, “Taffyta won today, so no doubt she’s gonna be extra obnoxious for a while, but that’s the other racers’ problem.”
King Candy and Felix exchanged a brief glance, but neither of them questioned her on it. Despite how Sinistar was gone now, despite how much Vanellope adored racing, it almost seemed like she’d been avoiding joining any arcade-scheduled races for right now. Whenever any of them had pressed, she’d use the excuse of wanting to help Candy with anything he might need, even though he was healed enough by now to function just fine on his own.
Maybe it was due to the excuse being so obvious that none of them felt it appropriate to press further right now. She would race when she was ready. She wasn’t one to stay away from the tracks for too long.
“How’s the new prosthetic treatin’ ya?” She asked the Cy-bug, “Not hurtin’ like the last one, is it?”
“No issues so far.” King Candy confirmed, giving the substitute leg a testing flex.
“Great!” Then, Vanellope sat right next to him, paints in hand, and asked, “So! What colours do ya want today?”
“Hmm…” King Candy glanced up in thought, considering it for a moment, before giving a simple shrug. “Surprise me.”
Vanellope had taken quite a liking to decorating the Cy-bug’s prosthetic during their shared pastime, and today was no different. This time, she took a large heap of green paint, both light and dark shades, and had started painting somebody they all knew well. When King Candy realized what she was doing, he’d gotten distracted from his conversation with Felix and Gloyd.
“Is that supposed to be Sour Bill?” King Candy asked, a teasing smirk on his face. “He’s smiling.”
At that, Vanellope gasped, realizing her mistake. “Heck, you’re right!” Splattering more light green colour over the sourball’s expression, she quickly replaced that smile with a comically large frown, stretching far past the body shape she had outlined on his fake leg.
All three of them couldn’t help but to laugh at her dramatic overcorrection, especially when the real Sour Bill had passed them by, giving a very confused look their way.
Internally, Vanellope counted this moment as a personal victory, taking great satisfaction in how much more comfortable Candy had been around other people aside from just her.
-
While what had become King Candy’s new “normal” lately was, surprisingly to him, a feeling of contentment most of the time, that doesn’t mean he was immune to the bad days that would sometimes sneak up on him.
Some days, he’d be perfectly fine. He’d remember his worth. He’d recognize the value he’d begun to hold in the lives of the people around him. Other days, not so much.
Today, yet again, was one of those “other” days. Or, rather, a compilation of “other” days that’d begun to pile up to a point that Candy couldn’t ignore.
Following Vanellope around, watching her carry out her royal duties, hearing about the roster races over and over again, all while he had to stay at the sidelines during open hours… It had started to become constant, cruel reminders that he no longer had a true purpose. Sinistar wasn’t around anymore, so it’s not like his bodyguarding duties were required. He couldn’t race anymore, so any hopes of contributing to Sugar Rush as a game were meaningless.
There was no point in expressing such things to Vanellope, he had convinced himself in his rut. She would only try to convince him that his presence as a friend was enough of a purpose to hold onto. But when everybody else around him had goals to meet, roles to fill, jobs that gave their existence meaning, and he didn’t, it left him feeling so pathetically useless.
King Candy had been staying away from the others for a few days in a row, now. He had somehow managed to communicate to them that he hadn’t been feeling like himself lately without spontaneously combusting in flames from sheer humiliation, that he needed some space for a little while, but he couldn’t admit to much beyond that. It was still difficult and awkward for him, admitting to his perceived flaws out loud, though he’d been getting very slightly better at it over time.
But, Vanellope wasn’t one to let him wallow in isolation for very long. By the fourth day he’d spent away from them all, the glitch had finally made her obnoxious presence impossible for him to shut out.
“Hey, Candyyy!”
Her annoying drawl had made its way into the fungeon, awakening the Cy-bug from his slumber. He gave one mildly annoyed look towards the door, seeing Vanellope bounce her way inside.
“What do you want?” King Candy grumbled back.
“Wellll…” Vanellope sheepishly rubbed her hands together, an awkward smile on her face, “Me an’ some of the other racers were havin’ a friendly little ‘dodging competition’, and, uh… Well, long story short, Snowanna’s kart got messed up pretty bad.”
He raised one eyebrow skeptically. “And what does your recklessness have to do with me?”
“Minty said you always used to fix the cars when they got too busted.”
“That was back when I was human-sized, glitch.”
“Aw c’mon, I bet you can still do it!” Vanellope proclaimed with utmost confidence, “It’ll just be more like, uhh… fixin’ a toy car rather than a full-sized one!”
King Candy laid his head back down, as if to go back to sleep. He wasn’t truly needed for this. There were other options she could turn to. “Ask Felix to do it.”
“Felix is on a date with Tammy, and we dunno which game they went to.”
“Then you’d better get looking.”
Vanellope met that comment with an annoyed pout, went quiet for a moment, then clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture, and whined in the most irritatingly-sweet tone she could muster, “Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase?”
King Candy took one more look at her, rolled his eyes and sighed under his breath, but finally conceded to her demands, standing up from where he laid. “Fine. Where’s the kart?”
-
Candy and the gaggle of racers following him around like lost ducklings took Snowanna’s kart to the Kart Bakery, the Cy-bug going right to work on trying to resolve the issue with her damaged hood and engine. For as annoying as the children could be sometimes, at least they were being useful today.
They’d laid out all the tools they could find, scavenged for whatever spare parts King Candy instructed them to, helped him tweak things that his claws were too big to handle, overall having a strange amount of fun with helping to fix the kart. Even if that did come with some occasional bickering.
Currently, Candy had been putting all his focus on tinkering with one last component of the engine, a multitude of curious eyes watching closely, awaiting their next task. Then, the Cy-bug held out his hand expectantly. “Socket wrench.”
“I’ll get it!”
“No, I’ll get it!”
Before Gloyd could get his hands on the wrench nearby, Minty beat him to it, grinning devilishly. “Haha, too slow!”
“Funny how you say that like I didn’t whoop your butt last race!” Gloyd shot back.
“Funny how my hand is still wrench-less.” King Candy cut in with a deadpan tone, snapping the kids back to what they were supposed to be doing.
Minty plopped the socket wrench in his hand, and he went right back to work.
“Hmm…” After a few more minutes of delicate tinkering, Candy finally pressed the hood back down with one claw, and looked at Snowanna in the driver’s seat. “Try it now.”
As instructed, Snowanna turned the car back on, and to all the children’s celebratory cheers of excitement, it actually worked this time.
“A-ha!” Snowana shouted triumphantly, revving her newly-repaired engine, “Told you guys I wouldn’t be down for long!”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see how long that lasts when we’re back to dodgin’ jawbreakers!” Rancis jokingly sneered back.
“Oh, really? In that case, last one there’s a rotten Cadbury Egg!” Snowanna laughed, whizzing past them all to get a head start.
“Wh- Hey!” Jubileena was next to scramble into her kart, racing after her, and the other children were quick to follow suit, eager to get back to whatever disasters they’d been engaging in.
Vanellope started to follow after them as well, paused, then turned back around and gave the Cy-bug’s leg a tight hug. “Thanks, Candy! You’re the best!”
He sent a blank stare down at her, his eyes following Vanellope as she then rushed back towards the others.
She was always so obnoxiously genuine like that, wasn’t she? For reasons truly unbeknownst to him, it always seemed to have an immediate calming effect on him these days. Just a few hours earlier, he’d been a miserable, pathetic mess of himself. But now, after seeing how appreciative all the racers had been of his presence, after Vanellope’s simple reminder that he still had value, he could hardly remember how on earth he’d spiralled into being so forlorn in the first place.
-
It wasn’t rare for Ralph, Vanellope, and King Candy to find themselves still keeping each other company while Tammy and Felix went on their occasional date nights, and today had been no different, the three of them relaxing in the dungeon and passing the time with idle, comfortable conversation. However, at some point, Vanellope had taken to performing a close examination of the Cy-bug’s back, much to Ralph and King Candy’s confusion. At first, she didn’t clarify what she was doing, up until her investigation results came in.
“A-ha!” Vanellope suddenly laughed, poking around near his wings, “I was right! You do still have some glitter on ya!”
“Seriously? How?!” Candy uttered out in sheer shock, “I literally got blown up!”
“Friendship glitter survives even the strongest of Sinibombs!”
“Is it still too late to revoke this whole ‘friendship’ thing?” King Candy shot back, though clearly in a joking manner.
“Yup! You’re stuck with us forever!” Vanellope grinned right back, then stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m the bestest friend ever and you know it, fartface!”
At that, the Cy-bug rolled his eyes, resting his head back down, “How did I even get here…” He muttered, chuckling under his breath as he shook his head.
“Who would’ve thought, huh?” Ralph teased, snickering at them both. “See how far a little decency and a simple apology can go, Turbo?”
“Sure, sure, rub it in, why don’t you.” Candy jested back, before offhandedly pointing out, “Well, minus the ‘apology’ part.”
That comment had Ralph’s energy shifting immediately, his expression dropping its prior amusement. “What do you mean, ‘minus the apology part’?”
King Candy sent a blank stare back, neither he nor Vanellope saying anything for a moment.
“... Are you actually serious right now?” Ralph’s eyes narrowed very slightly, his suspicion and irritation on the rise when he asked, “Don’t tell me you still haven’t even apologized to her.”
Sensing the other’s growing hostility, King Candy’s head again rose from where it laid, an annoyed, defensive sneer being sent back at him, his tail lashing in warning. “What should I tell you, then?”
“Uh, c’mon guys, it’s not a big deal–” Vanellope tried to cut in, only for her roundabout confirmation of Turbo’s lack of an apology to make Ralph even angrier.
“Are you kidding me? Are you seriously that allergic to doing this one basic thing?!” He shouted at the Cy-bug, genuine bafflement in his voice when he added on a harsh “What is wrong with you?!”
The second those words left Ralph’s mouth, any shred of that warmth or cordiality King Candy had been growing more accustomed to treating the others with had died on the spot. He got up, anger shooting through his veins like a rush of electricity, and the intimidating step towards Ralph that the Cy-bug took almost seemed like a threat, especially with how his wings had flared out to make him look even larger. “Oh, if you want to play that game, I could ask you the same thing.” He snarled back, only barely resisting the urge to turn this developing fight into something physical, “Your delusions of adequacy appear to have fooled you into thinking yourself smarter than the bricks you sleep on.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s too much of a stuck-up egomaniac to just admit he was being a piece of-”
Before he could finish that sentence, Vanellope glitched down from the Cy-bug’s back, grabbed Ralph, and glitched him out of the room. Within seconds, she was back again, without Ralph this time, and met King Candy with a supremely unimpressed look. “Candy, we talked about this.” She sighed wearily, “I’m sorry about Ralph, but coulda please calm down…?”
With Ralph gone, Candy’s anger had redirected to the one who was constantly butting in where she didn’t belong, the one who was now acting like a scolding parent instead of the stupid child she really was.
“Are you being dense on purpose, or is it just hardwired into your character?” He snapped back at her, “How many times do you need to be told to keep your bratty little nose out of other people’s business?”
A flash of anger crossed Vanellope’s face, but she made sure not to act on it. Instead, she chose her words with a very deliberate carefulness. “Hey. I’m sayin’ this ‘cause you’re my friend, and I care about ya, but the way you’re talkin’ to me right now ain’t okay.”
There she went again with her holier-than-thou attitude, and for a moment, one brief moment, something utterly vile had infected his thoughts.
If you dropped dead right now, I would feel nothing.
The second that thought crossed his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be around her. He knew he’d be bound to do something hurtful in his current state, and he refused to allow himself to fall victim to that flaw any further. Instead, King Candy looked away, though his voice still came out in an aggravated, tense growl. “You need to leave.”
At first, that request was met with skepticism, Vanellope squinting her eyes at him. “We’re supposed to get into the habit of talkin’ things out, rememb–?”
“Vanellope.” He snarled, cutting her off with a serious glare, “I mean it. You need to leave.”
That’s when she saw it. An anger so intense and fiery that it was at high risk of exploding beyond repair. And this was his way of avoiding that outcome.
“... Okay.” She tentatively agreed, finally giving him space. Before she left the room, Vanellope added one last comment. “Let’s talk when you’re feelin’ better, okay?”
All he dismissed her with was a disgruntled huff, purposefully avoiding looking at her, waiting for her footsteps to leave the room, which they finally did.
Right now, he felt like the only thing that would make him feel better is to hurt her and Ralph as badly as he could, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it would pass, and when it did, any mistakes he made were he to act on his current feelings would make everything in his life substantially worse.
It was ridiculous. They didn’t deserve his decency. They were beneath him. He should just blow up and let them have it, shouldn’t he?
But he knew he’d just hate himself all the more were he to follow through. He knew the tides would eventually turn that way, and he’d remember how much worse he was compared to them, he’d remember how frustratingly important it was to him to stay in their good graces, he’d remember how much he didn’t want Vanellope to die, and he’d hate himself for ever having those thoughts in the first place. Already, he felt it sinking in, and it just made him angrier, pacing back and forth and dragging claws along walls, just to feel something crack underneath his touch. Something that wasn’t his own skin.
How long he stewed in that festering bitterness, he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was, it was remembering Vanellope’s own words that she had said to him in the past that began to snap him out of it. One little phrase that stuck with him more than he ever thought it would.
Your thoughts don’t make ya bad.
He put a stop to his restless pacing, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take in a deep breath.
You’re not bad, you’re just having bad thoughts. You’re not bad, you’re just having bad thoughts.
You’re not bad, you’re not bad, you’re not bad.
Over and over and over again, he had to repeat that mantra in his head, lest he forget it was true. Yet, over and over again, his brain would fight him on it.
Why are his thoughts the ones that are considered bad and wrong? It was the rest of the world that didn’t make any sense, he’d tell himself. But no. He was just built wrong. He’d never fit the standards expected of him. ‘What is wrong with you?’ would echo in his head. The anger and violent images would bubble back up, but he’d catch himself, and force it back down.
He took another forced breath. Repeated it alongside those words he kept looping in his head.
You’re not bad, you’re just having bad thoughts.
The breaths steadied out, coming out calmer, more relaxed, as he muzzled those negative thoughts to the best of his ability. He couldn’t let them sabotage him.
You’re not bad. They still care about you. You’re not bad.
-
While Turbo had been left alone to calm down, Vanellope’s disciplinary tone had redirected towards Ralph, careful to have taken the conversation far away from where the Cy-bug might hear them, arguing in a distant hallway of the castle.
“You can’t just go an’ pick fights with him like that!” She had scolded him, “You know how bad he reacts!”
“What, so he can just get away with being an unapologetic little slimeball?” Ralph shot back, unrelenting in his stance, “How is it still that hard for him to just say he’s sorry?! It’s the least you deserve after everything he put you through!”
“That ain’t the point!” Vanellope persisted. “Do you seriously think he’d ever react well to you throwin’ insults at him like that? It only makes things worse!”
Her growing frustration did cause a pang of guilt to spark within him, if only for dragging her into this in the first place. He sighed, running a hand down his face, quiet for a moment. “... Sorry, kid. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fought with him in front of you.”
“You shouldn’t have done it at all.”
Her friend snorted at that, looking away in annoyance. “If he’s not going to have basic common sense, then he deserves a little scolding.”
“Ralph, c’mon.” Vanellope tried yet again to reason with him, a bothered frown on her face. “You know he doesn’t think about stuff like that in the same way.”
“That shouldn’t be an excuse-”
“Hey. Listen. I never asked him to apologize to me.” Vanellope cut him off. “He’s already shown me in other ways that he ain’t gonna be like that anymore, and that works for me. You bein’ all offended on my behalf isn’t helping, here.”
Not being ‘like that’, like an abusive, tyrannical dictator, is the absolute bare minimum expectation she could possibly have, Ralph had thought to himself in irritation.
But, he did know by now that Turbo wasn’t exactly “normal” when it came to such matters. He had to remember the multitude of other ways in which Turbo showed that he cared, for it still mattered, even if it didn’t quite meet up to Ralph’s standards sometimes.
Besides which, Vanellope was right in that it was more her business to deal with, and his butting in wasn’t doing her any favours right now. So, he apologized again, conceded for now, and assured her he’d try to be more careful in the future.
Hours had passed since that initial confrontation. Vanellope had taken to decompressing in the privacy of one of the castle’s many spare rooms, this one being home to a nice, big table for her to scatter her art supplies on. How long she’d been mindlessly drawing, she couldn’t quite say, but her concentration had been broken the moment a certain Cy-bug entered the room.
Vanellope glanced his way, gave a tight-lipped smile and nod in greeting, and went right back to drawing. King Candy walked over, and settled himself down beside her, silent at first as he simply watched her draw for a few minutes.
“Trying your hand at those ‘racing outfit’ designs, are you?” He eventually commented.
“Mm-hm.” Vanellope confirmed. She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, still somewhat cautious in nature, and asked, “You feelin’ better now?”
“Somewhat.”
She was quiet for a few more seconds, then nodded, and went back to her drawing. “Glad to hear it, ‘cause I don’t think I coulda handled any more yelling.” She muttered under her breath, the smallest note of frustration prevalent in her voice for a moment.
And it was that note of frustration that had thrown King Candy into overthinking things again. She was still upset with him, wasn't she? He had cringed slightly, a plethora of justifications he wanted to cling to in order to try and remedy the situation rushing through his head, but all he managed to ask in the moment was an awkward, “Do you want me to leave?”
“I never said that.” Vanellope quickly shut that down, her expression softening when she next looked at him. “I said we could talk when you’re feelin’ better, sometimes it’s just hard to tell if you’re– well, y’know, actually feelin’ better.”
There was clear uncertainty in the way he looked, averting eye contact, a bothered trill echoing in his throat. If Vanellope didn’t know any better, she might’ve thought he looked a little anxious. Concerned that he’d caused permanent damage to how she viewed him. Honestly, after all the drama they went through while he was still in a cage didn’t drive her away, him getting worked up about something as mild as this in comparison felt a little strange.
“Hey, none of this stuff means I love ya any less, ya doofus. It was just a lil’ tiff, it ain’t a huge deal.” She smirked at him, her voice a mix of both teasing jest, and an odd sort of reassurance. She gave him a playful nudge, then reminded him, “Just makin’ sure we’re clear on the whole ‘boundaries’ thing, remember?”
Thrown off by her words, he didn’t have any idea how to reply to that. So, he didn’t, looking away again with a disconcerted shift. “Love” was definitely not a term he could easily get used to, no matter how often she tried to reassure him he was part of the family now. And after what just happened with Ralph, it felt especially hard to believe.
Vanellope, of course, seemed to be focused on how to deal with Ralph as well. “... Prob’ly gonna have to talk things over with Stinkbrain so that things aren’t… y’know. Awkward.”
“Ralph can hate me all he wants.” King Candy replied, though it was with a mild annoyance that seemed to contradict the unbothered guise he tried to present. “It’s not like I’m not used to it from him.”
“Ralph doesn’t hate you.” Vanellope said. “He just… doesn’t really get you, I think.”
Snorting at that, King Candy went on, “Well, the feeling is mutual. What a stupid thing for him to fixate on.” He growled more quietly this time. “As if some empty apology from me would actually make you feel any better about what happened.”
“I dunno. Maybe a little.”
Surprised, he glanced down at her, brows furrowed in confusion. “... Even knowing it wouldn’t be sincere?”
She gave a tiny shrug, not looking up from what she was doing this time.
At that, King Candy looked away, quiet for a moment in consideration, then returned his steady gaze towards her and said, “I’m sorry.”
The next expression he’d gotten from her was a surprised one, clearly not expecting him to actually say it, but that had quickly shifted into a warm, grateful smile. “Thanks, Candy.”
Sincere or not, the fact that he was willing to apologize despite thinking this whole thing ridiculous was enough for Vanellope. That in and of itself was proof of him caring enough to consider her feelings, even if it meant setting his pride aside to do so.
-
Now, it was just Wreck-It Ralph that he needed to smooth things over with. More for Vanellope’s sake than his own, which Turbo was fairly certain had been Ralph’s reasoning as well when they’d met up the following day. Unfortunately for them both, they had a far harder time seeing eye to eye, making that task annoyingly difficult, their attempted conversation already at risk of turning into another argument.
“Look, I get that you’re trying sometimes…” Ralph had said at one point, as though it’d make his next statement any less insulting, “It’s just frustrating when you also turn around and act like you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know what I did to her was wrong. It’s not like I’d do it again.” Turbo growled at him, clearly offended. “I just don’t get why you care so much about me apologizing when I can’t mean it.”
That comment almost sent Ralph back into a state of losing his temper, but he managed to hold his tongue this time. Annoyance was still clear in the sharp breath he took in, however. “If you know it was wrong, then why wouldn’t you mean it?”
“Because I don’t–” Candy bit his tongue, looking away as his tail lashed in frustration. “... It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know how to–” He paused again, hating the thought of admitting faults to Ralph, but at this point, it was too late to back out. “... how to make it feel genuine, I suppose.”
“... Oh.”
They both sat in awkward silence after that revelation, neither of them knowing how to react to each other. All Ralph knew was, he’d fallen victim to assuming the worst out of Turbo yet again, only to be proven wrong.
His lack of apology wasn’t out of malice, spite, or his overinflated ego. Instead, it was yet another case of him feeling like it wouldn’t be adequate. Ralph still couldn’t say he understood it, the warped, transactional way in which Turbo viewed what should be very simple interactions, but after everything he’s seen by now, he should’ve known his reasons would be something like this instead of the arrogant selfishness Ralph had assumed it to be.
“... I’m sorry for blowing up at you before.” Ralph eventually sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I should’ve just heard you out…”
At first, it was a skeptical squint he got back from Turbo, as though trying to determine whether Ralph meant that or not. But, his expression eventually softened with a cautious note of humour, one dry laugh leaving his throat before he asked, “Was that meant as an example, or…?”
“Nope,” Ralph said, also letting out a tired chuckle at the roundabout absurdity of this whole conversation, “Real apology, just awkward timing, I guess.”
Turbo nodded, then looked away, drumming his claws against his crossed arms. His front was somewhat guarded, a little bit aloof, but he finally replied, “I may have… overreacted a little bit, too.”
That, Ralph realized, was probably Turbo’s version of an apology. At the very least, it was taking some accountability, which he could appreciate. He offered the silent peace offering of an understanding smile, started to say something else, but was swiftly interrupted by the sound of loud crashing and commotion in the direction of the kitchen, quickly followed by the smell of smoke.
“Uh-oh. Sounds like somebody let Vanellope back in the kitchen.” Ralph commented half-jokingly.
“We really need to put glitch-proof locks on those doors.” Turbo deadpanned back.
-
While Candy may have been getting ever-so-slowly better at resolving his relationship problems, his physical problems were another story.
It had been another day spent in a pained daze that he had to fight to hide from the others, though it wasn’t caused by his prosthetic this time, as taking it off that night provided no relief at all. It wasn’t the first time this happened, and it wouldn’t be the last, but mods, was it hurting far worse than usual this time around.
He’d long since retreated to the privacy of his own quarters, trying to ride out the suffering in whatever way he could, though his methods may have been considered unorthodox. He’d hunkered himself down in the corner of the room, curled up in a useless mess on the floor. He’d been biting down on his arm hard, the taste of blood not stopping him, as his free hand dug its claws into a tight grip on his head, as if he could force it to stop spinning from a pain that shouldn’t even be there.
He was barely able to fight off every urge that wanted to simply rip what was left of his useless limb clean off his body. Logically, he knew it’d make no difference to the agony, but damn if it wasn’t tempting–
“Candy…?”
Oh, great. The absolute last thing he needed was to be seen in this pathetic of a position…
When Vanellope’s worried voice had made itself known, he braced for the overreaction he was bound to get from her. Even though he’d stopped biting down on his arm the second he heard her voice, he’d been too late to stop her from seeing it, and the damage was already too obvious to conceal. She glitched to his side, her voice already trembling, as she tried to talk him out of what she’d assumed to be him relapsing into a state of self-harm, “H-Hey, c’mon, don’t do that…!”
Ralph was next to speak, and it had King Candy cringing even harder at how much of a mess he was, not realizing that he’d entered the room with her until he’d spoken up. “Turbo, what’s going on?” He asked, a rare note of concern to his voice, “You can always talk to us if something’s bothering you. You know that, right?”
“No, that’s not what’s– It’s not like that, it just–” He could barely string together a coherent sentence, keeping his eyes squeezed shut as though that might stop his head from spinning. He hated how pathetic he sounded, how pathetic he must’ve looked, being unable to stop trembling, and all he managed to utter out was, “It won’t stop hurting.”
Confused and her concern ever growing, Vanellope asked, “What do you mean…?”
Ralph, on the other hand, seemed to catch on rather quickly to what the Cy-bug was actually referring to.
“Oh– Wait, do you mean your leg?” Ralph paused, then corrected himself, “Or– uh, half-leg, I guess…?”
All King Candy could manage in response was a tentative nod, trying hard to muffle the distressed trilling that kept trying to force its way out of him.
“Tammy figured this might happen…” Ralph muttered under his breath. Calhoun had mentioned to him that she hadn’t been sure if this kind of pain would be the same for a hybrid, as pure Cy-bugs don’t have the neural complexity to experience pain the same way that other characters do… Unluckily for King Candy, it looks like he got the short end of the stick on that one. He took a few cautious steps closer to the Cy-bug. “You okay with me touching you for a minute? I know something that could help.”
As much as he hated everything about this beyond-humiliating situation, the unbearable pain he was in must’ve been clouding his judgment too much to care. Reluctant as it was, King Candy gave another small nod in response. At this point, he’d take any sort of relief he could get.
So, Ralph took a seat beside him, and with a surprising degree of gentleness, took King Candy’s injured leg into his grip, and started massaging the base of King Candy’s filed-down stump, where the rest of his leg should’ve been. The Cy-bug shuddered from the strange sensation, struggling to get used to it at first, and had to fight the continued urge to bite or claw at himself to distract from it. Vanellope, on the other hand, had scrounged up another heal kit from those they’d stashed around the castle, even in Sinistar’s absence, and went to work on patching up the bite on Candy’s arm.
While it was a relief that the situation wasn’t as dark as she first thought it was, Vanellope still kept worried eyes on him as she worked, then tried to think of something else that might help to distract him from the pain… While she was unsure if conversation would be of any help, she had to admit, she was curious how Ralph seemed to know what the problem was so quickly. Funnily enough, what Ralph was doing actually seemed to be providing some relief over time, as Candy had gradually stopped trembling as hard.
“How’d you know that would help, Ralph?” Vanellope asked him.
“Oh, Tammy let me know. She was talking to me about how a few of her soldiers go through this, too. Some sort of amputee thing, I guess?” Ralph explained as he massaged, “She wasn’t sure if it’d happen to Turbo, since he’s part bug and all, but with the first prosthetic causing pain, she figured this might be a potential problem for him, too.”
“What does bein’ part bug have to do with it?”
“Apparently the Cy-bugs don’t process pain the same way that most characters do. Said Turbo might have ‘more sophisticated pain receptors’ or something.”
“Ahh,” Vanellope nodded, patting Candy’s arm, jokingly forlorn as she said, “Oh, the woes of having a functional brain.”
At that, King Candy let out a muttering laugh. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”
Ralph burst out laughing, partially from not expecting such a comment all of a sudden, but mostly from the loud, overdramatically-offended gasp that Vanellope let out in response.
“Excuse you!” Vanellope exclaimed back, any mask of offense she tried to portray being immediately deceived by the wide grin on her face. “Here I am, bein’ all gracious and helpful, and that’s the thanks I get?!”
“‘Gracious’ is definitely a stretch.” Candy teased again, a little more life in his demeanour than when they had first entered the room. Things were quiet for a few more moments, until Ralph was next to speak up.
He kept up with the massaging just in case, but shot an inquisitive glance Turbo’s way. “Feeling better?”
“Much.” Candy confirmed. He then looked away, going quiet for a moment before muttering an awkward “Thank you” under his breath.
Ralph gave a reassuring pat to his exoskeleton, and replied with a smile, “Anytime, big guy.”
-
-
When King Candy first heard Vanellope’s plan to incorporate him into Sugar Rush’s levels, he had felt the strangest mix of emotions. Interest, excitement, even, but also a large dose of skepticism.
It was that skepticism that Vanellope had fixated on, grilling him about why on earth he’d be anything other than happy to finally have a role in the game again, until he finally just came out and admitted what had him so hesitant.
“What if I get Sugar Rush unplugged?”
That caused Vanellope to pause. To have that familiar look of pity cross her face before she found the sense to cover it up, knowing how badly such things annoyed him. But, her persistence didn’t waver.
“You wouldn’t.” Vanellope said with complete and total confidence. “The players will love you.”
He wanted to believe it. He wanted so badly to believe it. But was it worth taking the risk? Candy’s eyes narrowed slightly, tail twitching uncertainly as he retorted, “You can’t know that.”
“Says you! I’d bet a gazillion gold coins they will, ya old fart!” She insisted yet again. “If they love a glitchy freak like me, they can love a buggy freak like you just as easy!”
Still, he looked hesitant. Doubtful. Thoughts stuck on ways this could go disastrously wrong.
Vanellope, as always, remained persistent as ever. She refused to let this idea go, and gave Candy a teasing nudge to one of his legs, “C’monnn, you gotta admit, it’s exciting to think about, right?”
“... Maybe a little bit.” He admitted under his breath. For as many ways this could go wrong, Vanellope’s optimism also had him wondering about all the ways it could go right, and he had to admit, he was selfishly tempted to try. “But we’d have to make it convincing. Like I’m meant to be here.”
“Pssh, that’ll be a piece of cake! You’re already meant to be here!” Vanellope chirped, bouncing right past him to start on the hunt for drawing materials. “C’mon, I got so many ideas for what we could do!”
But, he hadn’t followed right away. He’d been momentarily dazed, that sentiment repeating in his head, and filling him with a rush of gratification that he didn’t quite know what to do with.
You’re already meant to be here.
He was, wasn’t he? He belonged here. It still felt so strange to think about. But this well and truly is his home, is it not?
“Hey! Slowpoke!” Vanellope called him out of his thoughts, clapping her hands from down the hall, “C’mon, chop chop, let’s get to work! We gotta figure out a game plan!”
That contentment he'd been gifted was quick to wash away any doubts he may have held, and he joined Vanellope happily, eager to get back to arcade work after having gone so long without it.
The following days, they spent planning, constructing, fine-tuning, until they had everything ready to go. Of course, it was Vanellope that wanted to be his first in-game adversary. But that meant putting herself back on the roster selection for the first time since Sinistar’s death.
Now, it was her turn to be feeling that wave of anxiety. Especially when everything they had planned for was meant to go into action two days from now. And King Candy had taken notice of her apprehension.
The two of them had been taking a walk along a chocolatey-brown path lined with candy trees when the Cy-bug had finally addressed it.
“So. You haven’t seemed as excited about your first day back lately.” He pointed out, eyeing her with calculative curiosity. With a brief smile, he added a light tease, “Don’t tell me you’re getting stage fright.”
She gave a weak laugh in response. “Nah, that ain’t the problem.”
Another possibility crossed his mind, and his smile faltered slightly. “... Having second thoughts about the plan?”
“No no, it’s not that at all! We’re doin’ that no matter what!” Vanellope was quick to shut down any doubt from his end, assuring him his role was still intact. “It’s just, uh…” She looked away for a moment, shuffling her feet against the cocoa-dust ground beneath them, before sheepish eyes made their way back towards King Candy. “Wouldja mind keepin’ an eye on me during the roster race again…?”
At that request, the Cy-bug blinked in confusion. “Why? Sinistar’s gone now.”
The second he saw how Vanellope’s face dropped at that response, the immense disappointment and anxiety that took her over before she broke eye contact, he wished he hadn’t said anything at all.
Sinistar may be gone, but the fear he’d inflicted upon her still remained. And Candy just completely dismissed it.
“I’ll still do it,” He was quick to add, mentally cursing himself for such an idiotic mistake, “I just meant– Ah…” Biting his tongue, King Candy took a moment to compose himself, to construct his next words more carefully, and said in a more calculatedly reassuring tone, “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. You’ll be okay whether I’m there or not.”
“I know.” She mumbled, staring at the ground and kicking at the dirt a bit. “... I think I’d just feel a little better if you were there.”
At that, Candy nodded, gave her head a light pat, and assured her once again, “Then I’ll be there.”
-
-
“King Candy?”
Candy hadn’t expected to be called upon until he was needed for tomorrow’s roster race preparations. Instead, Sour Bill’s voice had roused him out of his slumber in the middle of the night, his tired eyes giving a few blinks towards the doorway in which Bill stood.
“Just ‘Candy’ is fine, Sour Bill.” Candy groggily reminded him. “Why are you here so late?”
There was a brief glimpse of something apologetic crossing the sourball’s face, before he went right back to his normal demeanor of lax dutifulness. “President Vanellope’s asking for you.”
“Oh.” At that news, the Cy-bug got up from where he laid, giving his body a quick, cat-like stretch. “Well, in that case…”
-
Alone Vanellope sat, sitting up in her bed, curled up hugging her knees. She hated how many times she had to go through this, how these horrible nightmares wouldn’t just leave her alone, how she’d been so distraught and driven to hysterical tears by her most recent one, that Sour Bill had heard it when passing by her door, coming in to check on her.
But, on the other hand, she really needed to see King Candy alive right now, and she had been too frightened to leave her own room. So, embarrassing as it was, maybe Sour Bill’s assistance had been a blessing in disguise. But, for now, she sat all alone.
That was, until a certain Cy-bug made his entrance with an unceremonious bonk.
When Vanellope’s confused stare turned towards the door where the sound came from, she saw King Candy entering her room, rubbing at his forehead from where he’d hit the door frame on his first attempt inside. “Honestly, who designed these doorways?” He muttered half to himself in mild annoyance.
Vanellope couldn’t help but to giggle a little bit. “If ya wanted ‘em bigger, you shoulda arranged to have ‘em changed when you were king.”
“But of course, how did I not have the foresight to make Cy-bug-sized infrastructure?” Candy remarked back in jest, “What a fool I was!”
She laughed again, though it was weak, scratchy, and he could tell right away that she’d been crying. He gave her a knowing look, then commented, “Sour Bill said you’re having trouble sleeping.”
“Yeah…” Vanellope muttered, looking away in embarrassment. “... Sorry. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t’ve bothered you with it.”
“I’m not bothered.” He assured her, settling down on the floor beside her bed. Truth be told, maybe he’d be slightly bothered if this did turn out to be nothing, but she didn’t need to know that. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a stupid nightmare. I know it’s dumb, but I-” A tiny sniffle interrupted her words, and she shrunk ever so slightly smaller. “I’m just… still scared.”
Candy responded with a light chuckle, albeit a tentative one. “Well, after everything that’s happened, I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.” Quickly, he made sure to add, “But you’re perfectly safe, you know. Why, I’m the scariest thing in this whole arcade!” He preened with a distinct note of pride, “Absolutely nothing would get past me.”
That got another weak little laugh out of her. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeves, quietly sniffling. “You’re talkin’ like you’re still on bodyguard duty.”
“Well, I’m just saying…” He carried on, “With me around, there’s nothing you need to be afraid of.”
It was almost funny how confidently he said that, considering the fact that it used to be him she was afraid of. Vanellope wiped a few more tears out of her eyes, looking away as she contemplated something.
“... Wouldja be okay with sleepin’ here tonight?” She suddenly asked, to which the Cy-bug’s head gave an inquisitive tilt to the side. “I just… I need to know that you’re uh…” Again, she looked off to the side, hugging her knees just a little bit tighter. “... y’know. Still in one piece.”
… Ah. That better explained what her nightmare must’ve been about, he supposed…
Rather than allow her to dwell on such gruesome memories, Candy let a cheeky grin cross his face as he took his prosthetic off, holding it up on display and jokingly commenting, “Well, technically speaking, I now come in two pieces.”
“Pfffft!” That one got a much heartier laugh out of her, and she threw one of her pillows at him as she shot back, “Y’know what I mean, ya doofus!”
“Yes, yes, I know.” He snickered, setting his prosthetic aside and flicking the pillow back at her. If his presence is what might help keep the nightmares at bay, who was he to refuse that request? So, he curled himself up on the floor next to her bed. Vanellope settled back into her blankets and pillows too, though not before throwing some blankets over the Cy-bug’s back.
“G’night, fartface.” She said after making herself comfortable.
“Goodnight, glitch.”
-
-
“Are you really sure about this?”
Felix and Calhoun had been skeptical of Vanellope’s plan, though the final decision ultimately rested with her. Given how King Candy was already in position, and the arcade was due to open soon, they doubted there was any chance Vanellope would falter now, though it didn’t stop Calhoun from asking.
“Totally sure!” Vanellope insisted, pleasantly chipper after winning her first roster race back in action earlier in the day. The race had gone off without a hitch, as they always had since Sinistar’s death, though having King Candy there to watch over her had provided a much-needed layer of reassurance for Vanellope. And now, after getting over that initial bout of anxiety, she was beyond excited to get into what they had in store for the players today. “Besides, after all the games that Sinistar messed up, the arcade definitely needs a pick-me-up!”
“You don’t think the players will be confused as to why there’s something suspiciously Cy-bug-looking in a game that’s not Hero’s Duty?” Felix was the next to ask, hopping alongside his wife on her hoverboard as they readied to go back to their own games.
“Hey, they didn’t question a dang thing when your cabinet was suddenly infested with a bunch of extra arcade characters, so I really don’t think that’d be a problem.” She pointed out. With a mischievous grin, she added, “The players just wanna have fun, and this is going to be really fun.”
-
It started out as a perfectly normal day at Litwak’s Arcade.
Two sisters, one an older teenager, the other a preteen, had entered the arcade, and headed straight for the Sugar Rush machine. The older one didn’t have much interest in playing these days, but somebody needed to babysit the little sibling. Instead of playing the cabinets herself, she allowed her sister to hoard all the coins and play to her heart’s content, while she hung back and did some casual doomscrolling on her phone.
“Oh my gosh!”
That shout almost made the older girl drop her phone, she’d been startled so bad. “What?! What is it?”
“Look! Vanellope’s finally in the roster again!” The first one exclaimed with an all-too-pleased point towards her screen. “Isn’t that cool?”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s pretty cool.” Her sister commented, looking back at her phone. Frankly, she would’ve been far more excited if it were King Candy back in the roster, for his avatar hadn’t been included in the select screen for over half a year, now. But, she could lend some mild enthusiasm for her sister’s main being back in rotation. She’d only been half-paying attention as her sibling went through Sugar Rush’s tracks, up until she reached the snowy areas.
“Careful, Rainbow Lane’s coming up.” The older one had pointed out, giving a teasing poke to her sister’s ribs. “You always fall on that track.”
The younger girl had squeaked, jerking the wheel almost to the point of driving Vanellope off the track, though her avatar recovered with a quick glitch back into position. “Well, don’t poke me!” She pouted, trying to stay focused, “I can do it with Vanellope!”
But, rather than entering Rainbow Lane, Vanellope had a different plan in store for her player.
When Vanellope’s path made a sudden shift, jerking the player towards a brand-new road in the path, the older sister’s attention had been fully pulled away from her phone, curiosity getting the better of her. “Wait, what’s that?”
“Woah! I think I unlocked a new track!” Vanellope’s player had replied, excited, though equally confused.
“Never seen that before,” The other mused aloud.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Vanellope had snickered quietly to herself, careening her way through their newly-constructed roads that weaved up Sundae Summit.
When her kart had made its way to the mountain’s peak, when the “Welcome To The Boss Level!” graphic had appeared on the player’s screen as power-up cubes and sugary obstacles materialized across the arena they’d made, it was a build-up to something those players never would’ve expected.
King Candy, in all his Cy-bug glory, made his dramatic entrance, dropping down from the cloudy skies above, making the screen shake as he landed in front of Vanellope, wings flared and tail lashing to and fro with anticipation.
On the display screen behind Vanellope, the two arcade-goers had been fired up with such energy and excitement, the pair of them losing their minds the second he appeared on screen, confused but ecstatic about the change of pace, and it had a great surge of pride swell within King Candy. Especially as other players nearby began to take notice, dollars quickly lining up the machine as they dibbed to play next. Then, his gaze fell to Vanellope, the glitch staring back at him with a friendly competitiveness as she revved her engine, readying for player input, but also with an affectionate sort of pride of her own on her face. Proud of him. Happy to see him happy. And it had Candy feeling something much different than he was used to.
For the first time in decades, the attention of the players felt secondary to him. He still enjoyed it immensely, of course, but there was something else he enjoyed far more.
Knowing that he belonged here, and that he had a real family who truly loved him for the first time in his life. That feeling, he wouldn’t trade for anything.