[ Flipside - A DSaF Fanfic ]

[ Chapter 18.5 | Split | Phoneys Found In Flipside ]

[ this is what i'ma call a 'split chapter'. at a certain point, it'll diverge into two chapters, one canon, one not canon. ]

    Jake saw Harry paced back and forth, thinking.

    "C'mon, old man, why are you so worried about him?" Jake asked, crossing his arms.

    "H-He could have been kidnapped! B-By that rabbit thing- Oh dear..."

    He eyed Harry, curious what he meant by 'rabbit thing', but dismissed it as another weird freddy's thing. Jake looked around the house. Sure the house was messy, but considering how Jack's office looked...Jack just seemed to be a messy guy. No windows broken, and Harry had a key to unlock the door. So unless something broke through the roof, somehow, or crawled through the vents, there was no way anything could have gotten in and kidnapped him.

    "I-I'm such a horrible employee, o-oh god- I-" Jake still heard Harry panicking in the background. He would've rolled his eyes...if he had any. He grabbed Harry's shoulder, leading him to the couch. Jake felt weird, as he saw this man panic, saw him cry, and...felt nothing.

    But that was normal for him, having no empathy.

    He thought for a bit, tapping his foot as he sat on the arm of the couch. He noticed the kitchen, the microwave open, some forgotten soggy pizza bagels in it. He decided to get some food for the man. He patted Harry's back, and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed some ramen noodles from the pantry and grabbed a mug. He filled the mug with water, and microwaved it for a few minutes. He began pull it out. A flash of burning pain, from his palm touching the hot mug. He quickly pulled his hand away, hissing in pain.

   "Gah! F-fuck-" He growled, flapping his hand like it was on fire. He suddenly felt a present behind him. 

     Harry.

    "I uh-" Jake froze.

     Jake could feel Harry's front on his back, making him squeak. A hand on Jake's waist moved him towards the sink. Harry, without speaking just guided Jake's hand over to the faucet. Jake closed his eyes. He could hear the squeak of the tap as Harry turned it, and then the rush of cold water running down his hand. His breath hitched, as he could feel Harry pressing ever closer to him, inspecting his hand for burns.

    "Just hold it over the water for a few minutes, should help with the burn.." Harry instructed him. He then left Jake, heading to the microwave right next to the sink.

    Harry studied the mug, not noticing the cup of ramen "What were you trying to do anyways?" Harry tilted his head.

    "Oh, well-" Jake started. "Was tryin' to make ya some ramen, because you were freaking out and shit, and food usually helps me when I'm panicked like that. Not like I panic much, heh..."

    "I noticed that. Those scuttlers...I mean how you bravely fought them- I could never." Harry chuckled heartily. Jake liked that laugh. He wanted to hear it again, and again. The praise he had been given was making Jake's chest warm, like a campfire and the smell of toasted marshmallow.

    "Going soft on me, huh, old-fuck?" He elbowed Harry, to hide how...bad/good/weird he felt. He couldn't quite put a finger to what he was feeling. It was a familiar feeling, though, like a face of a loved one shrouded in shadows and disfigured. Something just out of reach of being recognizable.

    Harry chuckled again, and grabbed the mug out of the microwave, pouring the contents into the ramen-cup.

    "It seems like a lot of food for me alone...do you wish to share some with me?" Harry was still bent over, from grabbing the mug from the microwave, his hands resting on the counter.