Chapter Text
They drove as far as they could before Peepers realized that he couldn't ignore that annoying, biological need that made itself apparent on road trips. Fortunately the nearest rest stop was just a quick skip and a hop away.
Normally Hater would come out with him just to stretch his legs, idling about and taking in the sights while Peepers did his business. Occasionally he'd even go in the stall next to him and pretend that he needed to use it too, just to feel included.
Mostly by making fart sounds until Peepers went from laughing to begging for him to leave.
Since Hater had no sense of urgency, he'd usually lag behind. So Peepers would rush out without checking if he was following, then find him when he was done so they could leave.
Except this time Peepers couldn't find Hater. He wasn't staring at any roadside attractions, he wasn't watching any of those tourist videos (the closest Hater and Peepers ever had to TV), and he wasn't even trying to sneak up on any wild animals in another vain attempt to pet one.
Eventually Peepers checked one of the last places he could expect to find Hater: The back of the van. Part of why Peepers saved it for last was because he'd only opt to stay behind if he was down in the dumps. And his mood seemed too good for that earlier.
Guess Hater processed how badly their debut went after the adrenaline wore off. Peepers took a deep breath before opening the van's back door and climbing in.
…Or maybe he was still taking a nap. Peepers thanked his lucky stars that Hater didn't need any comforting. Still, usually landing was enough to wake him up.
"Hey Hater…" Peepers' voice was soft and warm as walked over to Hater's face and put his hand on his shoulder. "You sure you don't wanna see Hifx before we drive away forever?"
Hm. Nothing. Peepers put his whole body into pushing Hater, which was just enough to make him rock. After a few tries Hater slowly opened his eyes.
"Peepers…" Hater groggily grumbled. "Just five more minutes…"
In any other circumstance Peepers would leave him be and get back in the driver's seat. But Hater's eyes were dim, which made Peepers go from mildly concerned to alarmed.
Instead Peepers rapidly shook his head. "I need you awake while I figure this out!"
Hater's voice was slow and weak. "Figure what out?"
"That's what I'm working on!"
It had just occurred to Peepers that he hardly knew anything about Hater's physiology. Maybe nobody did. They hadn't spotted any creatures like him yet.
And the idea of Peepers being the expert by default terrified him.
After what seemed like forever yet was only a few seconds, Peepers yelled, "Try raising your arm!"
It was such a simple demand. So why couldn't Hater raise his hand more than a few inches!? He'd just started groaning in frustration when Peepers rested his hands on Hater's arm to make him lower it.
"That's enough," Peepers said with a sigh. He flopped down in front of Hater's face so he could closely study his eyes. The only part of him that outwardly looked any different.
"What now?"
Another sigh. "I dunno, rest maybe? You want me to grab anything for you?"
A blanket. Except Hater wasn't sure how Peepers would find one his size or lug it back on his own if he did. Instead, Hater went for his second choice.
"A Thunderblazz?"
Peepers nodded before getting up to dig their trusty coin on a string out of the glovebox. But then– as he saw a glint from the corner of his eye– he realized that he could do this the easy way for once.
Not only that, the normal, acceptable way!
Soon a small fraction of their earnings were exchanged for as much Thunderblazz as Peepers could carry in one go. Which was only three bottles.
Once Peepers got back to the van he tossed one to Hater out of habit, before being reminded of why he'd fetched it for him when it went over him and sailed straight into the passenger seat.
"...Want some help?"
"Please."
Peepers kneeled down and slowly poured Thunderblazz into his mouth. He didn't expect anything to happen aside from hydrating Hater's handful of organs. So when Hater grabbed it and started chugging Peepers stumbled backwards out of shock.
Hater sat up and rapidly downed the remaining soda. He'd started to crush it just to assure himself of his returned strength, before he remembered the bounty program some planets had on plastic bottles, blew it back up, and threw it in their bottle bag.
"Got any more!?"
Peepers rapidly nodded, not sure what to say. He handed Hater one, retrieved the one he'd thrown earlier, and ran to grab more.
By the time Hater had drank twice Peepers' volume in Thunderblazz he was back to normal. Better, actually. He felt like he could run a marathon!
"Look Peepers!" Hater cheered as sparks leaked out of his hands.
"Not in the van!" Peepers cried out while doing his best to shove him out the back doors.
Hater climbed out himself, then shot a bolt into the sky.
"Hater! We're trying to stay low, remember!?"
Oh. Right. He'd been so caught up in feeling like a physical god that he'd forgotten about the whole being wanted for shoplifting and beating people up thing.
Fortunately nobody seemed to be around to see that.
"So how'd you go from not even being able to lift yourself to that!?"
"I think the Thunderblazz gives me thunder powers!"
That… sounded stupid. Peepers raised his finger to try to object, yet couldn't form any solid argument against it.
After a long pause he bought a bottle of his own, forced himself to down the sickeningly sweet stuff that jabbed his throat with a thousand tiny needles, and threw his hand towards the sky.
Nothing.
"Yeeeaaahh I don't think that's right."
"And you realized that after you wasted a bottle!?"
Hater loved that stuff. Peepers acted like drinking it was pure agony. So why would he put himself through that when he could hand it to someone who appreciated it?
Peepers shrugged. "Worth a shot, I guess." It would be neat if Thunderblazz lived up to its advertising.
After a pause he flatly added, "You should be their spokesperson."
Hater burst into laughter, and in the pauses between laughs he wheezed, "As if they'd put me on camera!"
"No, you'd totally be great at it!"
Peepers climbed up onto Hater's shoulders and imitated the proud, booming voice Hater used earlier as he exclaimed,
"I'm Lord Hater and thanks to Thunderblazz I'm the most powerful guy in the galaxy!"
He then mimicked how Hater's hands moved when he shot lightning and made thunder noises to complete the effect.
"HAH!" Hater gave Peepers a pat on the back. "Good one!"
The two of them decided to stick around for a little longer now that Hater was up for exploring. And later, after they were both settled down, Peepers asked,
"So how'd you know that'd work?"
"I didn't."
"Eh?"
Hater fondly smiled as he rolled his eyes. "You know how I like my sugar."
Huh. So what's good for his spirits ended up being exactly what his body needed. Although…
Peepers put his hand to his chin as he mulled it over. Hater had gotten to that state after extensively using his newfound electrical powers. If Peepers thought of Hater less like a skeleton and more like a pure-electrical being housed in a skeleton, his crash made far more sense.
No wonder all it took was copious amounts of sugar to recharge him. Maybe they should do some testing to find out what else he could use a fuel, and see what's most efficient.
"Hey Hater."
"Huh?"
"Do you think we could squeeze a whole vending machine in our van?"
Hater took a moment to consider it before shooting Peepers a confused look. "Maybe? Why?" Peepers always said that they never stocked anything he likes.
"Oh it's not for me. It's for you."
Hater shrugged. That seemed like a weird way to celebrate his discovery and subsequent recovery. But Hater was never against pigging out on some crunchy snacks and sweets.
They ended up cracking it open instead, with Peepers loosening the bolts and Hater brute-forcing the rest. A bag of loot was far easier to transport.
...And wouldn't crush Peepers if it fell over.