TITLE: SilentTown
FANDOM: LazyTown/Silent Hill
PAIRING: Robbie Rotten/Stephanie, Sportacus/Stephanie (onesided, implied)
CHARACTERS: Robbie Rotten, Stephanie, Sportacus
GENRE: Horror
RATING: M
SUMMARY: The fairytale happiness of LazyTown comes to an end when an archaic sacrifice goes horribly wrong. Everyone is left paying the price when Sportacus leaves forever.
WARNINGS: Violence, language
SPOILERS: None
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A larger, longer version of a crackfic I already did. I've never actually seen LazyTown. This is all based off what I've read on Wikipedia. It was merely an experiment to see if I could cross the two fandoms.
DISCLAIMER: Obvious this isn't mine.

"Thanks," she murmured as she accepted the headband from him.

It had been a day and half since he'd last seen her. Today he'd found her up the tallest tree still left in LazyTown, looking through a telescope and sitting on a small platform that had been nailed sturdily to a branch high up. He had been carrying her headband around, mostly because he didn't like the thought of it among his things—he didn't need any of trace her tainting the only refuge he had left. She said nothing further to him and he knew she was simply too polite to tell him she wanted nothing to do with him, but he didn't really give a damn—he was lonely and he was refusing to be alone in his lair this morning.

With enough stretching and balancing that would have to be considered exercise, he managed to make his way around her to sit an arms length away from her on the branch.

"So what are you doing?" he finally asked.

She gave a mournful sigh. "Looking at the apples in that tree."

She passed him the telescope, pointing to what she had been watching; through the scratched lens he saw the old fruit orchard patrolled by squishy grey things that had possibly been humans once. There was a lone apple tree that was still green and alive, the only plant in Lazytown that hadn't been reduced to a shadow of its former self.

"If you had a distraction, you could get to them," he observed as he handed the telescope back to her.

And of course he made sure not to offer to be the distraction.

"Yes," she agreed. "I miss fruit. Sugar is nice, but..."

They were quiet for a while and Robbie brushed away the small particles of white ash that had fallen on his maroon and purple trousers.

"I thought you were afraid of heights," he finally commented.

She didn't look in his direction. "I am."

"Who put this perch up here?"

"Sportacus."

"Why?" She gave no answer and he demanded, "Well?"

She still said nothing and he made disgruntled noises until he realised he wasn't going to get a reaction from her at all. Ready to stare off into the distance and think of things such as cake, he moved his hand on the branch and looked down as he felt something unusual. Pulling his hand back, he saw that there was something notched into the worn dead branch.

"There's an apple carved in this branch. Ugh. How typical. I think I'll make it a lollipop instead—"

He began to pull out the small pocket knife he carried with him and she jerked her head to look in his direction.

"Don't," she said firmly and he paused. The look on her face was chilling. "If you touch it, I will shove you out off the branch."

"We're almost thirty feet up," he protested, but he could see that even that wouldn't stop her. He held up his hands defensively. "All right, all right—I won't touch your precious carving."

She turned her attention back to the orchard and he gave a bored sigh.

He remembered that he'd been toting around something other than the headband he'd already given her and reached into the small pocket of his waistcoat, pulling out the folded photo he'd hand saved for years; he had a sneaking suspicious that because it had been important to the elf, he couldn't let harm fall to it without severe conciquences on his end. Regardless, he had it and now he felt the urge to show it to the girl, hoping to capture her attention somehow, maybe even make her cry a little.

"He dropped something before he left."

She looked over at him and her eyes locked on the photo he waved in front of her between two fingers. "What?"

"I don't think he meant to. I picked it up."

He allowed her to snatch the picture from him and she unfolded it.

"It's us," she said, sounding shocked. He pretended not to watch her as she studied the faces of all the children including herself. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with such longing, he nearly felt sorry for her. "I want to leave, Robbie."

He grabbed the photo back from her and tucked it in his waistcoat pocket again. "We can't."

"There's always a way," she insisted.

"There's always a way, there's always a way," he mimicked in a nasty, feminine tone. "Please. Be realistic."

She didn't look put off, however. "We can get out of here. There has to be a way to do it." Her hand reached out and grabbed his upper arm. "Think, Robbie! Do you want to be stuck here forever?!"

He began roughly uncurling her fingers from around him. "Where would you go? After Sportadork?"

"Yes," she said boldly. "Where would you go? I bet you have no where to go."

"Maybe I would travel. The finest hotels. Won't have to lift a finger," he said cooly.

"Well, this could be your chance to leave. To get away from here and get away from me," she said pointedly.

Robbie scowled at her and began to climb out of the tree, not wanting to put up with her nonsense any longer. If they were able to get out of LazyTown, he would have done it agesago.

She, on the other hand, didn't seem to want to give up the dream.

"Think about it!" she shouted after him.

Everything was brown and baked, a perpetual early fall. The sun forced its way through cracks in the overcast sky to cast a dim, muddy glow across LazyTown. Crouched over a dried patch of soil that had once been a garden, Robbie pulled more of the small shriveled onions out of the soil; he had plans to chop them up, rehydrate them in something carbonated, and batter them up so he could have onion rings to eat later that night. The overcast sky was no relief this close to the hot earth—the Fire had moved from the surface to beneath the ground and he could feel his skin becoming flushed and uncomfortable from the endless heat. He could only be thankful that his underground lair seemed far enough from the core of the fire that it didn't cause a noticeable temperature change.

Rain fell often in LazyTown; it reminded him of the way a child might cry, tears dribbling pathetically down dirty cheeks. He scowled at the clouds—he hated the way the rain washed sludge composed of ashes and remains into the streets, that meant afterwards the town was left with a sickly moldering smell that lingered on everything. As large scummy drops fell from the skies, he decided to leave the rest of the onions for another day and take the ones he had back home.

The trek back to his lair seemed endless; it wasn't a long walk in the sense of distance, but due to the great care it took not to get caught by anything wandering the area as well as having to look at the physical repercussions his wish of making Sportacus leave had caused. People generally assumed from his attitude that he didn't like the town he lived in—that was far from the truth. In fact, he probably loved it as much, if not more than Milford Meanswell.

He was fond of LazyTown simply because of the potential it had to be the perfect home for a man like him. Firstly, it had a name that reflected all that he stood for. Originally called 'Lasichtuin', a bastardized amalgamation of the low German word lasich 'languid, idle' and the Dutch tuin 'garden', it had developed into the current incarnation of 'LazyTown'. Sometimes he murmured the original name of the town over and over, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. Second of all, he liked that it had been declared as thelaziest place in the world, a title he wanted to help it hold. Everything had gone so well until that idiot girl and idiot elf had come along.

As the rain continued to fall, his left hand folded protectively over the pocket that held the photograph Sportacus had dropped; he really should have just left it with her so he didn't have to tote it around. She would have taken care of it and he'd be relieved of the responsibility.

"Our hero," he mumbled sourly as he realised that his nemesis had given him one more problem to deal with.

He didn't just dislike the elf—he felt all-out loathing for him. If he hadn't been so fond of the mayor's niece, none of this would have ever happened! Sometimes Robbie wondered why the people of LazyTown hadn't been able to see what was right in front of their faces. They had only looked for what they expected and the town hero being in love with the town's little darling had not been on their radar. It was depressing, really. Being surrounded by such idiots.

The first time he'd realised that Sportacus hadn't just thought of the girl as one of the annoying children that needed his guidance, Robbie had nearly died of shock. The elf and the girl had been plotting some big happy scheme that would get everyone 'moving' and they'd smiled at one another, which was normal in and of itself, but when she had looked away, Sportacus hadn't. The look had lingered just a millisecond too long and Robbie had NEARLY pointed it out, but he realised that it was the key to getting the big blue elf out of LazyTown. From that point on, anytime he ran into the two them, he kept his eye out for anything that he might be able to use against them and over time he pieced together quite a collection of instances where the elf had given his feelings away.

Of course the more he saw, the more he realised there was nothing he could say about it—he'd look like a lunatic and then everyone would wonder why hewas thinking those kind of thoughts. And he didn't exactly have any real evidence to back up his claims besides 'Well, one time he stared at her,' and 'He talks to her a lot,' and 'He brought her an apple and the other children pears'. It was all circumstantial, which he found entirely unfair considering it was making him work harder to get him out of LazyTown forever.

And he supposed with the elf's overall naivety, it wasn't like he'd ever act on anything he was feeling, because that wasn't 'honourable' or some other garbage along those lines. There was a reason Robbie called him an idiot, after all.

Safely in his lair once more, he dropped the photo into a bowl on a small side table stuffed in a dark corner, the place where he kept many things he wanted out of sight, out of mind. The pink-haired little girl's headband had occupied the table for a few days and he nearly considered that the table looked a little more empty without it, but he pushed those thoughts away and didn't allow him to think of the upsetting world above him for the rest of the day.