Trigger Warning: mentions of suicidal thoughts and urges!

Instead of going home, Amy led him to a park, where little humans ran around and threw gravel and sand, and told him to sit in the shade while she ran to the bathroom to wash her hands.

Scowling, Slappy watched her leave, her hair swinging behind her like a pendulum.

He still couldn't believe how much she'd grown; last time he saw her; she was a scrawny twelve-year-old with really frizzy hair and a penchant for baggy cargo jeans. Nothing like the athletic girl now, muscular with golden, toned arms and legs and the longest hair he'd ever seen on a human.

It always surprised him how much humans could grow and change; in the time it took Wally to find him and torment him, Amy grew up.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Amy laughed as she came and sat next to him, her hair spilling around her face.

"Nothing, everything, anything."

He smiled when she shot him a dark, confused look. He could feel his hands begin to shake so he pushed them down into the long grass to hide it.

"Life, okay?" Sighing heavily, he rested his back against the brick wall behind them and lifted his face towards the sun.

They sat quietly for hours on end, her trying to whistle with a blade of grass and him, contemplating. He'd never given much thought to how he would die, but he wondered, absently, if he even could. Wally had given him enough reason with torture alone.

"Do you..." Amy whispered beside him, her dark hair flapping wildly in the breeze that carried the scents of the humans around them.

A woman was menstruating; another was wearing far too much perfume.

He turned his head to look at her, finding the fading light cast fantastic colors across her sweet features. "Do I what?" he asked.

She huffed, sucking in her lips. "Do you ever think about dying? I mean, I'm—I'm not as artistic as Sara; I'm not athletic with a full scholarship like Jed. The only thing I'm good at is getting myself into trouble."

A melancholy longing colored her tone.

"Why? Are you going to kill yourself?" he found himself anxiously asking, grabbing her arm to catch her attention, and it worked; her head snapped to him, her green eyes wide.

"No! I was just...I get like that sometimes. Talk about...it. I'd never actually do it," she muttered, chewing on the skin of her top lip.

He sat back. "I'm not..." he tried, his voice faint. A deep breath, and then he pushed his fingers into the grass hard, dirt under his nails. "I'm not sure I can die," he admitted.

"What? You're, like, immortal?" she breathed, her eyes round and fascinated, an expression of awe on her face.

Reluctantly, he said, "I'm not entirely sure. I don't know much about my life before I woke up as a ventriloquist doll." Sucking his lips into his mouth, he turned away and watched the humans interact.

A couple picked up a crying little girl, the shorter man kissing her skinned knees and the other man rifling through a baby bag, chattering quickly to his partner. What looked like a single mother hugged a baby to her chest, rocking it gently as she kissed the downy, curly-haired head. Beside her, a robust older man swung an older girl onto his shoulders.

Stupid humans, he thought darkly, grinding his teeth.

"We should head back before they call the cops," Amy said beside him.

Slappy rolled his eyes and stood as the sun sank slowly and the breeze picked up. The temperature dropped rapidly but he didn't feel any of it. He snarled as he noticed the low, thrumming presence of another demon, as well as the metallic, acidic stench, signifying its lower status.

And he had a very good idea on who it was. Scowl deepening, he turned back to the girl and swallowed a curse.

Amy's shivering and rubbing of her arms told him, while he wasn't able to feel the temperature difference, she could. That wasn't what had him almost swearing; it was the pair of glowing red eyes that peered out of the deepest shadows of the corner of a park, just a few feet behind them.

The scent of decay wafted off the newcomer, making his bare his teeth; what was he doing here? This was Slappy's territory, regardless of being gone for a couple of years years. A menacing growl bubble up, too low for human ears to register it, but it made the lesser demon snarl in response.

"Slappy?"

His head whipped back to her, shivering beside him, just inside the halo of light from a street lamp. The orange light bathed her like moonlight, and he was glad she wasn't able to see the demon in the shadows.

Without a word, he peeled off his sweatshirt and flung it over her head. "Humans are so feeble," he explained to her questioning stare as he shifted so he was behind her.

A quick, cursory glance around told him there weren't a lot of humans to witness anything out of the ordinary and he flicked two fingers up behind his back.

Amy turned, pausing just inside the entrance of the park. "What are you doing?" she asked as she pulled her hair out of the collar of the sweatshirt, several sizes too big on her, but at least she'd stopped shivering.

"Nothing. Keep walking," he reassured her lightly and closed his fist behind his back as he flared out his aura, forcing the lower demon into submission; the demon's beast howled and whined.

A choked noise rose up from the shadowed corner and he snorted derisively at the mere idea that the lower demon had thought to challenge him over Amy.

As if, boy, he thought darkly, shooting the demon a glower, as he caught up to Amy. "Come on, slave."

"I'm not your slave! My name is Amy. A-m-y. Say it with me!" she yelled as she bumped him on the shoulder.

The uneasy sensation of eyes followed him and Amy as they walked.