There won't be a chapter posted next week. I'm keeping this guy on a schedule with my other fic, Maria's Adventures: GF Mashup, and she isn't going to be sitting and doing nothing between this chapter and the next one.

So I'll see you readers on this side of the story in two weeks!

Chapter 4 – Full Stomachs

"Sixer!" The Guildmaster was next to him instantly. Her voice was muted, as most of his focus was taken by the pain. "What's going on?"

Sixer shook his head. "I don't—"

Similar cries of pain started going up across the clearing.

"Get something in their stomachs now!" yelled the voice of a Stanley. "I'm the only one who's been eating things!"

Crescent.

That was the only thing Sixer was able to register before he smelled something being held near his face. It didn't smell familiar, but at the same time—

"Take a bite of this," the Guildmaster ordered. "Make sure to chew and swallow."

Sixer did as he was told, taking a bite of the whatever it was the Guildmaster wanted him to. The sensation that hit his mouth nearly caught him off-guard, and he blinked a couple times in surprise as he chewed and swallowed.

The pain in his middle lessened slightly.

The Guildmaster pulled one of his arms away from his stomach and pressed the object into his hand. "Eat the rest of this. I'm going to make sure that Star and Pine have something in their stomachs." She pulled away and moved out of his line of sight.

Sixer looked down and blinked at the large…fruit? in his hand. Yellow with darker brown spots and pear-shaped, with a bite taken out of it.

It looked familiar, but Sixer wasn't about to dwell on that. He took another bite of the fruit instead, focusing on what the Guildmaster told him to do. A few more bites, and the fruit was gone.

"Where is she pulling those things out of?" Stan demanded, watching something behind Sixer.

"S-subspace?" Ford suggested quietly.

"How would she have access to that?! That's some kinda magic voodoo sh—scrap."

"I have an adopted older sister who's Cybertronian," the Guildmaster replied as she walked back over. "It was only a matter of time before I managed to gain that technique." She knelt down next to Sixer. "Your stomach still hurt? Or do you think your hunger's been satisfied for now?"

Hunger. That's what it was. It took him a second to remember what exactly it meant.

Sixer shook his head slightly, and the Guildmaster seemed to get the message because she handed him an apple that looked larger than it was probably supposed to be. "Eat until you either no longer feel hungry or you feel full."

Sixer nodded and started into the apple with mechanical movements. Now that he was aware of what was causing the pain, he knew how it needed to be solved. However, it had been so long since he last had to think about food in any sort that the movements felt more unfamiliar than familiar.

"Where'd you get one of those that big?" Stan asked.

"What, that Big Apple? That is literally what it's called, by the way. I picked them up in another dimension that I visited a long time ago. Practically lived off them for a full year, now that I think about it. I'll have to see if I can plant some trees around here somewhere – both for the Apples and my Berries. They could be useful depending on what decides to hit us over the next year."

"If that thing you gave him before was a berry I'll eat my eyepatch," Stan said flatly. "That thing looked as big as a pear."

"Not my fault the climate of different planets is different from Earth's," the Guildmaster replied. "You'll see what I mean – they probably will end up berry-sized here; you never know."

Sixer kept gnawing on the fruit, not looking up to watch them but listening all the same. The fruit the Guildmaster had given him before was familiar, then – it had come from the world they had met on before.

The Guildmaster had also mentioned visiting that dimension. Taking that into account, that meant she was a traveler.

…but why was she here?

It took him a moment to realize that he'd managed to eat everything except for the core of the apple. He pulled it out of his mouth before he could start chewing.

His stomach wasn't begging for food so much anymore, but it still felt empty, somehow.

"Feeling okay, Sixer?"

Sixer looked up at the question and met the Guildmaster's gaze. "I…" He hesitated for a moment, then said, quietly, "I am neither no longer hungry, nor full yet."

The Guildmaster's eyebrows rose. "Wow, that's a really empty stomach, then. Hm." She frowned, then looked over at Stan. "Your nephew wouldn't mind if Vash and I took over the kitchen for a bit, would he?"

"What, you plannin' on cooking in there?"

"That's the idea." The Guildmaster reached under her jacket and pulled out another large apple, holding it out to Sixer to take. He took it carefully in both hands and started taking bites of it immediately. "Fruit is only going to do so much, you know?"

Stan grunted. "All right. But you'd better make enough for—"

"Way ahead a' ya. Keep an eye on Sixer for me? Vash! Get over here – we gotta make an all-you-can-eat buffet!"

"I'm on it!" One of the blond-haired young men came scrambling over, legs practically going in all directions. "Where's the kitchen?"

"In here." The Guildmaster had a gleam in her eye. "Come on – I've got a few recipes in mind."

The two of them disappeared into the house with quick speed, Stan and Ford stepping aside to let them move past.

Sixer ignored the stares he was getting as he ate the second apple down to its core. He looked down at what remained of the two apples he had been given, then set them down in the grass in front of him and rested his hands on his knees.

A pair of feet pattered away for a few minutes, then came back again. "Um… Sixer? Maria said we could talk with you if you felt up to it. She's gonna be busy in the kitchen for a while."

Sixer's ears twitched at Maple's words, and he lifted his head slightly to look in her direction. He nodded slightly and moved his gaze away from her eyes and to the porch.

Maple sat down on the edge of the porch.

"Maple—"

"It's okay, Tyrone, he's not gonna do anything." Maple gave her brother – who remained standing next to Ford and Stan – a smile before looking back at Sixer. The smile on her face faded a little when she saw that Sixer wasn't looking at her. "So, what are you? Some kinda fox-man?"

The Guildmaster had said – through Maple – that he could interact with them, so...

"I am a kitsune," Sixer corrected. His tails, fallen to disarray behind him when he had fallen to his knees from stomach pain, moved to either side of him – three and three, evenly split.

"Ooooo. So, can you speak Japanese?"

"No."

"Oh." Maple swung her legs back and forth, thinking. "So…did you start as a kitsune or get turned into one?"

"Kid—"

"Transformed," Sixer replied, cutting Stan off.

Stan's voice died in his throat. Ford made a noise that sounded like shock.

"Oh," Stan said, after a moment. "I guess that settles that rumor."

"Rumor?" Tyrone repeated. "What's going on, Grunkle Stan? He's not – he's not acting like the other Great-Uncle Fords. It feels wrong."

"You don't know the half of it," Stan muttered. "Shoot, even I don't know the half of it. All I know is his family got taken by—" He cut himself off and looked at Ford, who was pulling back further, away from Sixer and more behind Stan. "Hey, hey. It's okay. That monster can't get here yet. We got time. And we got friends now. Okay?" He put his hands on Ford's shoulders, making Ford look at Stan rather than Sixer. "And I'm still here, okay? Whatever what comes, we'll handle it together."

Ford hesitated, then nodded a little. "Y-yeah."

Sixer said nothing to the display. As Maple watched him, her brows furrowed together.

"Does…does Maria know there's something wrong?" Maple asked. "That you…that you're different?"

Sixer blinked at the question. "She is aware of what has happened."

He didn't feel wrong. He felt the same as he had for…for a long time. He didn't see it as anything that needed to be changed.

Of course, he wasn't the one who had the final say. The Guildmaster was.

Maple's brow wrinkled further. "Sixer—"

"Kid, might as well leave him alone," Stan spoke up. "I think it's pretty obvious at this point that he's not gonna be answering questions the way you're expectin' 'em. We know all we need to know."

"Yeah, my bro's not one fer talkin." Crescent suddenly appeared next to Sixer, standing on his feet and with his arms folded across his chest. "Considerin' he didn't get out much, I'm not surprised."

"Get out?" Stan repeated.

"He was tellin' me a few things," Stanley said as he came up behind them. "'Pparently, Sixer here was basically a trophy pet who occasionally got out for that whole bounty hunt thing. Which is just sick, if you ask me. I mean, I know he wanted to cause the end of the world an' all, but doing this not only to my brother but givin' other demons the chance ta do it to others?" His voice was rising; Sixer's ears flicked back, trying to keep as much of the sound out as possible.

"He did what?" Maple asked.

"Oh, man…." Tyrone swallowed audibly. "That's…that's pretty bad."

"Not just 'bad,'" Stan replied grimly. "Everyone else is in a panic because of that guy. The multiverse's turned into a minefield."

At that, the group fell silent.

Crescent sat down next to Sixer, leaning back against the porch, not kneeling. He looked at Sixer, who returned his gaze, actually looking Crescent in the eyes.

"Hey. Somethin' tells me things'll turn out better," Crescent said. He lowered his voice and added, "An' no blackouts here. You're gonna be fine, okay?"

Sixer blinked at Crescent's words. He considered those words, mulling over them in his head.

No blackouts.

He gave a slow nod in response to Crescent's words, which caused a grin to cross his brother's face.

"Now we just gotta wait for dinner. And judging by the smell it's gonna be really good."

Time Break

In the end, the Guildmaster not only got Stanley, Stan, and Crescent to help move tables out into the clearing, but also to bring out every scrap of food that apparently existed in the house.

"I'm afraid you're gonna have to make a grocery trip after this, Mr. Pines," the Guildmaster said to Alex as she carried out a pot of something. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, if any of this survives whatever you're planning, we'll have leftovers for a while," Alex replied. He looked down at the plate of…some kind of meat he was carrying. "What exactly is this, anyway?"

"Tomas meat. It's a flightless bird that lives on a desert planet. Toughest meat you're ever gonna eat, believe me."

Sixer watched from the base of the porch as the table was laid out and decked with strong-smelling food that was making his mouth water…although he wasn't sure why his mouth was doing that.

The amount of food that the Guildmaster and Vash had prepared was a massive amount. There were soups, sandwiches, cooked meats, and somehow all of it had come from one kitchen – that Sixer had noticed, at least. He hadn't been all that focused on paying attention to what was going on around him other than Crescent making idle chatter with Maple and Tyrone.

As the Guildmaster finished helping set up chairs, she turned and locked eyes with Sixer. "Come on! You're still hungry, aren't you?"

Sixer pushed himself up to his feet. He swayed for a moment before finding his balance by sticking his tails straight out behind him, then walked over to where the Guildmaster was standing.

She pulled a chair out from its place and motioned for him to sit. "It's exactly like I told you before. Eat until you're full or no longer hungry."

Sixer nodded quietly, then sat down in the chair – carefully, so as not to cause his tails to be pinched uncomfortably.

The Guildmaster patted the back of the chair, then moved around to the other side of the table and sat down across from him while the others moved to join them.

Crescent almost collapsed into the chair to Sixer's left, grinned, and stabbed a whole chicken before dragging it over to Sixer's plate. "There. Eat that."

Sixer stared at the chicken, and before he knew what he was doing he was tearing it apart. The smell of…of the cooked meat and spices filled his nose to the point that he couldn't smell anything else.

And the taste…!

He hardly noticed Crescent pushing another half a chicken in his direction before he started on that one too. He wasn't sure why, but it felt like meat was the only thing he could really eat right at that moment.

And then another half-chicken appeared on his plate, and he ate that too.

He was gnawing on the remains of a leg bone to get the last bits of meat off when he noticed that his stomach wasn't complaining about having nothing in it anymore.

He blinked. Blinked again. His vision was getting fuzzy.

He leaned back in his chair, the contents of his stomach sloshing around in response to the movement. He didn't feel hungry, and he wasn't quite full but nearly there, he felt, so it was a good time to stop eating.

He lost all strength in his neck, and his head rolled back. He blinked. Was the sky changing colors? It looked like it was.

His eyelids felt heavy suddenly. He didn't know why, but…he couldn't…keep them…open….

Change in POV

Crescent stared at his brother as he fell back out of his chair and fell limp on the grass, tails scattering in all directions. He blinked a couple times as Sixer's Guildmaster – Maria, wasn't that the kid's name? – sprung up from her chair and ran around to the other side of the table immediately and checked his pulse.

"I don't think any of that chicken was – oooh. Oh, hang on." Maria's eyes widened, and she looked up at Crescent. "He didn't let you sleep much, did he?"

Oh. Oh, yeah, that would do something.

Crescent shook his head. "Beck and call 24/7."

Maria's face scrunched up into an annoyed, angered look. Crescent got the feeling that face was going to be happening a lot. "Well, isn't that just great." She huffed, then reached under her jacket and pulled out a weird-looking green-yellow feather before tucking it behind one of Sixer's ears. If it was possible, the blank expression on Sixer's face became even more relaxed, which Crescent blinked in surprise at.

Splat!

Crescent looked over at the noise and snorted. Pine and Star had fallen face-first into what looked like chocolate pudding. It probably was, considering how much food there was scattered around the table.

His mouth watered a bit just thinking about all the sweets.

"Someone wanna give me some help getting Sixer into the house and onto a couch or something?" Maria called. She paused, then added somewhat sheepishly. "The kids, too. And probably Crescent when he keels over."

Crescent snorted at the idea, but then yawned immediately after.

In the end, Stanley and Stanford ended up helping Maria move Sixer into Stan's and Ford's place. And they did need three people because of Sixer's tails. Maria didn't carry those, though, which Crescent found interesting.

She lifted Sixer up by his shoulders and walked backwards into the house, arms locked around his shoulders while Stanford and Stanley balanced out his lower half.

It was…weird, to Crescent, that someone was willing to help them move around and get what they needed, when they should have been the ones doing that for them.

When Stanley came back out, he immediately went over to Crescent. "You look like you're about to fall over. C'mon." An arm went around Crescent's back and under his arms, helping him to his feet.

Crescent grunted; the position forced him to lean against his counterpart. "'Sn't feel right."

"Hm?" Stanley looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Should…'elpin' you. Not like this."

Crescent felt sluggish in the head as they got close to the porch. Felt like his vision was going too.

"Sweet Moses, you're really bad off," Stanley muttered. It sounded like it was really starting to hit him. "Yeah, no. No way am I lettin' ya try ta wait on me hand an' foot. I know what that's like." He muttered something in Spanish under his breath, cursing Rico and a number of other people that Crescent vaguely recognized. "I'm not gonna use ya, idiot. Yer sick in the head, and you're gonna get better, or so help me I'll eat my fez."

Crescent openly stared at Stanley in surprise as Stanley dragged him up onto the porch and into the house. "You…what?"

"Yer a person, not somethin' less." Stanley dragged him over to an open couch – Crescent's legs weren't responding as quickly as they should have been. "If I have ta beat that inta yer skull, then so be it. But I'm not gonna use ya. That'd be stupid."

The mere idea of what Stanley was suggesting didn't make much sense to Crescent – to most of him, at least. The part of him that had stubbornly held on through his anger against the demon roared up in approval of Stanley's words, and…

…well, Crescent wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, because as soon as Stanley's words registered in his head, he was collapsing onto the couch, consciousness lost just as Pine and Star were carried into the house.