Much to the kind one's relief, today has been going well so far. It's almost evening, and for a change, things are calm. He's sat on the couch, reading a book and occasionally sipping his coffee. His daughter, the Sad One's kid and the Scary One's kid are all playing a board game on the carpet with the Scary One, seeming content. The Dramatic One's daughter is napping on the other couch. The Sad One, uncharacteristically, is sitting on the opposite end of the couch, also reading. It was rare that the spiteful one decided to leave his room - other than to get coffee.
"Hey, that's cheating!" the Scary One suddenly exclaims, "Ya can't just- oh, wait, never mind. Sorry."
Sighing with relief, the Nice One returns to his book.
"Hey, Shoulder Angel?" the grumpy says.
The Nice One raises his head from his book.
"I think your cup's empty. I'm gonna go refill mine, you want one too?"
The gentle one smiles, touched by the Sad One's infrequent act of kindness. He nods, and hands the Sad One his empty mug. Just as the spiteful one stands up to head to the kitchen, he hears an array of gasps.
The Dramatic One is standing in the doorway of the living room, his arms crossed anxiously. His arms are bare.
"U-um...hey...Shoulder Angel, d-do you know where my hoodies are? I-I just got out of the shower and I...can't find any of them..."
"Oh! Sorry, honey!" the crazy one suddenly pipes up, "I put them all in the wash for you! Hope ya don't mind."
The excitable one stares at the floor, deliberately avoiding eye contact. He can feel everyone staring at his arms...and all the scars.
"Erm...Hey, girls?" the Nice One turns to the girls, "Do you think you could go play in the basement for a little while?"
The girls all nod, quickly pick up the game and leave the room. All except for the Dramatic One's daughter, who is still asleep on the couch.
"Sit down, man," the gentle one says softly, guiding the lively one to the sofa. He gently sits him down and then turns to the Sad One.
"Could you get us all some coffee, man?"
The spiteful one hesitates for a moment, and then nods. Forcing himself to look away from the Dramatic One's arms, he heads to the kitchen.
"Wow, you have a lot of scars, honey. More than me even!" the Scary One comments loudly, "Are they all self inflicted??"
The Scary One's husband turns a deep shade of red.
"U-um...y-yeah..." he mumbles.
"You must really hate yourself, huh?"
This earns a sharp glare from the kind one.
"Y-yeah..." the Dramatic One whispers.
"Hey, you?" the Nice One gestures to his crazier self, "Cut it out."
"What?!" the crazy one throws his hands up in dramatic mock-offence, "I'm just making conversation!"
"Shhh!" the gentle one hisses, "You'll wake the kid," he gestures to the excitable kid who is sleeping on the couch.
"Oh please, it's nothing she hasn't seen before," the psychotic one rolls his eyes, "She's had to stop him herself plenty of times."
The theatrical one covers his face with embarrassment.
"P-please...please can someone...um..."
The kind one, quickly realising what his friend is asking, grabs a blanket and wraps it around the Dramatic One's shoulders.
"Th-thanks, Shoulder Angel..."
"I don't know what you're being so dramatic for, honey. I'm covered in scars and ya don't see me making a big deal out of it!" the Scary One complains, dramatically folding his arms.
"I told you to cut it out," the kind one responds harshly, "You're not helping."
"Y-you know that I don't l-like my scars, dear," the excitable one mumbles, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
"Um...I'm back," the Sad One returns from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cups of coffee into the living room. He sets the tray down on the coffee-table before collecting his cup.
"Thank you," the Nice One gives the spiteful one a quick smile of gratitude before taking his cup.
"Y-yeah, thanks, Sad Sack," the Dramatic One also attempts a smile.
"Welcome," the grumpy one mumbles, sitting back down on the sofa.
The Scary One picks up his coffee mug, attempting to hide his scowl. This isn't nearly as satisfying as he had planned...
Suddenly, an idea comes to mind. He allows himself a quick smirk before resuming a straight face.
The crazy one walks over to the couch, deliberately wrapping his foot around the leg of the coffee table, causing himself to trip.
Hot coffee is spilled over the Dramatic One, soaking the blanket and his Tshirt. He jumps up, letting out a cry of pain.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, honey!!" the Scary One suddenly exclaims, "Here, let me help!"
Before the enthusiastic one can protest, the psychotic one tears the blanket away from him, and then rips off his husband's shirt, revealing even more scars.
"Get out," the Nice One snaps, pointing to his crazier self, "You're just making it worse!"
"It was an accident, Shoulder Angel! I-"
"Do you want me to leave, honey??" the Scary One asks, gesturing dramatically.
The now shirtless one lowers his head before giving a hesitant nod.
"Well I never!" the psychotic one huffs, his face suddenly growing dark, "We'll talk about this later, honey." Without further comment, he storms out of the room.
"I-I'm sorry, the carpet is all stained. I-I'll clean it up! I'm sorry, Shoulder Angel-"
"Hey, man?" the grumpy one gently reaches out and pats the Dramatic One's shoulder, "It's fine, it wasn't your fault. Want me to grab ya one of my hoodies?"
The excitable one nods quickly, managing a soft, "Thank you," of gratitude.
The Sad One nods in acknowledgement before rising from his seat and leaving for his room.
"Are you okay?" the Nice One asks softly.
"...No," the other replies quietly.
The gentle one nods. Hesitantly, he reaches out and squeezes the other's hand.
"I...I'd give you a hug, but uh..."
The Dramatic One manages a small smile.
"It's okay, Shoulder Angel."
"Don't want to upset your husband, do we?" the Nice One adds with a chuckle.
"Shoulder Angel! How could you even suggest such a thing! I am FAITHFUL to my husband-" the two men lock eyes and dissolve into a fit of laughter. It feels good to be distracted...
After the laughter dies down, the two men resume sitting in silence. The Dramatic One stares at the floor, the ghost of a smile still on his face.
The anxious one nervously fiddles with his hands as he stares at the carpet. The kind one, though he tries not to, finds himself casting fleeting glances at his companion’s scars. There are so many...
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Huh?”
“...I know...what it’s like to feel like that. I know it’s not good, and...I’m sorry that you’ve gone through that too,” the Nice One adds quietly.
“...Y-you do?”
The other nods. Hesitantly, he pulls up his shirt to show a myriad of scars on his stomach. He quickly pulls his shirt back down again, and looks away.
“I...I can’t say for certain, but I think all of the Ricks have struggled with...it...at some point.”
The excitable one nods.
“...I wish I could stop,” he mumbles, “It’s...just so difficult.”
“I know,” the kind one replies softly, “But hey, you haven’t hurt yourself in a while, right?” His more erratic self nods. He smiles. “Right. So I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Shoulder Angel.”
A few moments later, the grumpy one returns, carrying a grey hoodie.
“Here you are, man,” he tosses the hoodie to the Dramatic One.
“Oh my gosh, thank you,” the excitable one quickly pulls it on before grabbing his sarcastic self in a hug.
“...Um...”
“Oh, sorry!!” he quickly lets go.
After a moment’s hesitation, the Sad One suddenly pulls the excitable one back into a hug, and hugs him tightly for a couple of seconds before letting go again.
“You’re welcome,” the sarcastic one mutters, “For the hoodie, I mean....I...Never mind. Just, you’re welcome.”
The two other men watch as the spiteful one hurries out of the room, his head fixed firmly on the floor.
“...That was strange,” the Dramatic One says. The kind one nods, and they share a smirk.
“You must have caught him in a good mood.”
“Anyway,” the Nice One continues, “Your hoodies should all be washed and dried by tomorrow morning, okay? I’ll make sure to get them to you as soon as I can.”
“You’re the best,” the Dramatic One smiles.
“Nah,” he pats his friend’s shoulder, “But thanks.”
“...How about that hug?” the other asks, holding out his arms.
The Nice One chuckles, embracing the other.
“I’m here if you ever need to talk, okay?”
“Okay, thanks, Shoulder Angel.”
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