(A/N: I just realized I have never just sat down and wrote a Felix fic :O Every WiR writer needs at least one Felix fic! lol Plus, I love him to pieces, so idk why I've never wrote a fic staring his lil goody-two-shoes self before XD
But as a certain little good guy would say, I can fix it! :P This one-shot focuses on the events that took place right before Ralph joins the anniversary party. It gets into Felix's head and examines his thoughts on how great -or dare he say...broken?- his life really appears to be.
Hope all enjoy!)
Slightly rocking back and forth on his heels in his place by the penthouse doors, the man subconsciously chewed on the inside of his cheek- nearly leaving a sore spot in the process. He found himself rubbing his small gloved hands over each other, his fingers fumbling around even more than his stomach was.
All at once, the good guy abandoned his hand rubbing and tugged gently at his shirt collar. The vest he was wearing -the one he saved for and only wore on special occasions- seemed to choke him all at once. It had never done that before- and the petite man had always been...well, on the petite side. But for whatever reason, tonight he couldn't dismiss how his outfit nearly strangled him now, suddenly way, way too tight for his liking.
Maybe I should skip out on a piece of Mary's anniversary cake this go around, he began to resolutely think as he adjusted his seemingly tight shirt. I have several of her delicious pies she bakes everyday as it is...
Shuttering slightly in his place, the small gentleman was somehow able to ignore his restrictive clothing and the unsettling thoughts of the needing of going on a mild diet. He forced his feet to be still in his work boots- refusing to feed into his nervous tics for a solid minute.
Within seconds, however, the naturally nervous fixer was already subscoinously flicking his finger tips at his side...and few moments after that, starting to drum his fingers against his legs...
And before he knew it, he was giving into his strongest, most addictive quirk: that of fidgeting with his magic hammer, loyally ever by his side on his workman belt.
Suddenly annoyed with how warm his face felt from embarrassment, the small man tried to force himself not to blush, to not turn as red as a tomato in July. Under his quickly uncontrollable honeyglow, however, his usually happy, chipper face bore an unsettled, serious frown- an expression he often tried to hide (albeit unsuccessfully) from everyone's view.
But regardless of how tight his vest felt, despite what his face tried to conceal, no matter how much he fiddled with his magic hammer...
Today -in this moment- Fix-It Felix Jr. couldn't forced away that looming, raw feeling of...of something.
That something he could never fully identify all these years- yet that always, always seemed to haunt him. Following him around like a love-sick puppy...
And just why tonight, of all nights, he had to feel that something the greatest he had ever felt, Felix didn't have a clue.
Attemping to shake away that raw feeling of...well, whatever it was filling his heart, the fixer made himself focus on something different, anything different than the strange pounding taking place in his chest. That pounding was so loud, it made his head throb and his ears ache a little.
Making them dance around from person to person, Felix' baby blue eyes suddenly fell on Deanna as she came bobbing along- holding a martini glass in one hand and a small maroon purse in the other. All at once, she tripped over her small high heel shoes- and although Felix was fast enough to catch her before she fell, he wasn't quick enough to catch her poor martini glass. Within seconds of the fall, the fragile drink had slipped out the woman's hand and landed loudly on the floor, shattered pieces going airborne.
"My drink!" The woman cried out, a look of anguish instantly coming upon her face as she tightly clutched her small purse.
Feeling her distress, the fixer beside her forced away his thoughts of his own troubles- his tight vest, his honeyglowing face, his pounding chest and all- and just smiled calmly at her.
"Not a problem, ma'am," Felix assured her, his calming smile still on his face. In an reflexive instant, he snatched up his hammer, pulled his trademark grin, and rang out his delightful catchphrase. "I can fix it!"
After a quick tap or two of the magic hammer, the once shattered glass was as good as new again- making the woman it belong to smile widely in admiration.
"Aw, thank you Felix!" she praised highly, standing on her tip toes to give the fixer a quick peck in the cheek. "You truly are the best good guy around!"
After blushing a shade of red he didn't know he could, Felix nodded gently towards the woman as she hurriedly rushed off. His honeyglow dying down a tad, he allowed his eyes to scanned the beautiful scene before him- briefly finding himself absorbed in the festively decorated penthouse surrounding him.
Smiling slightly, he awed over how the apartment was packed to the brim with colorful balloons and even more colorful disco lights, sprinkling the room with splashing brightness and festivity. Out on the leveled penthouse floor before him, the man saw the floor was as equally colorful; the small, synchronized squares under everyone's feet lighting up to become an inviting dancefloor.
His ears ringing at the sound of feel-good, lively music, Felix looked somewhere beside him to see that Skrillex was the DJ for the evening- not failing to deliver the perfect music for the special occasion. Martinis glasses clinked and various concoctions were being shaking up in a drink mixer, all sounds harmoniously joined together to create a calm, relaxed atmosphere for the spectacular anniversary party.
As he pulled his attention away from the various, melodic scenes and sounds around him, Felix found himself eyeing the group of characters before him- ones from all different kinds of games. Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man were already present, chatting it up with Peter Pepper. Luigi and Princess Peach were snacking on some delicious mushroom hors d'oeuvres- although Mario was still yet to arrive...
But as much as he wanted to, Felix found that his eyes couldn't really focus on the random characters from the other games in the arcade. His eyes were naturally drawn to the short townsfolk bobbing around, their tiny, stiff bodies rushing around in their truest 8-bit form.
The Nicelanders. The very people who too lived in the arcade game that bore the fixer's name...
And for odd reason, the very people who always made Felix' smile wane just a tad after his mind ran amok for too long.
The tiny people seemed to pool before him, all of them blurring together like collecting water. Some of the Nicelanders were clinking their drinks, others were clicking their heels on the dancefloor. Some moised on over to other characters to share in a lively discussion, and others just ate on party snacks and silently watched the party unfold.
Like Deanna had done, a few Nicelanders filtered past Felix as he stood before the penthouse doors- their walking by startlingly him at times, other times merely shaking him out of his stupor for a brief moment...
And yet as they each would past, that plauging...something in Felix would sudden start to pound as loud as the music overhead.
So as a busy Mary would on occasion rushed by him in a blur, the fixer could only just politely tip his work hat towards her- the gesture voided of any real feeling. When a smirking Gene would stroll along and nod towards him, Felix would just gulp and nod back- feeling ashamed for being so distracted and disinterested.
Getting frustrated at that unexplained feeling steadily growing inside him, the fixer ignored all else and fidgeted with his hammer for a moment. That loud pounding was getting too hard to bare alone- and that something was getting unbearable.
Desperate for a distraction from his distraction, Felix slightly opened the penthouse doors -for the fifth time in the last ten minutes or so- and peeked out into the vacant hallway. His racing mind couldn't help but wonder if...
No, he wouldn't show up tonight, Felix- you know that, the fixer quickly dismissed once again. Gene was supposed to invite him- but I doubt he shows up. Why would he? He's probably sick of us...especially me at the end of the day...
Slowly shutting the doors, Felix bit his lip- pushing down that gnawing feeling of guilt inside him.
Besides, he reasoned as he rubbed the nape of his neck, he probably just wants to rest; he did have a long day of wreckin' the buildin', after all...
Shaking his head clear of the strange thoughts of disappointment, Felix quickly found himself all the more frustrated as he fidgeted again. Just where in the boo was Mario, the actual guest he was supposed to be watching out for?
Harshly shaming himself for his absolutely atrocious mental potty mouth, Felix forced down another deep blush and gulped down a knot forming in his throat- neither that was supposed to be there tonight. He couldn't pin point exactly why... but his mind just wasn't functioning tonight, just wasn't present in the special anniversary party taking place just him.
The party itself was amazing, he couldn't deny- definitely the most over the top, festive, and creative anniversary party he and the Nicelanders had thrown to date. It was the anniversary party everyone wanted to be at...
But although he was there at the fringes of it all, Felix still just wasn't there. Too many thoughts were running through his mind, too loud of a pounding was in his heart...
And on top of it all, it was getting more and more difficult for him to stop those racing thoughts, that loud pounding. It was almost now impossible to keep his fictious look of confidence and pride on his face at this point anymore...
And it was getting more and more frustrating to him just to not know why he couldn't seem to pull himself together tonight.
For three decades now, Fix-It Felix Jr. had successfully did just that- pull himself together. Every day, he'd ignore his confusing thoughts and emotions, pull a cheeky smile, be the super glue that held the game together and pressed on being the good guy of Fix-It Felix Jr.- before, during, and after arcade hours.
He had a job to do, after all; he had to be the fixing good guy of his game- first and foremost...
And that's when a sudden realization hit Felix like a ton of bricks.
Slowly turning to face the party goers once more, the fixer numbly stared out as the various charactes intermingled before him. It was only then did he realized how... outcasted he really was from them.
Okay- maybe outcasted was a bit of an extreme term to use for Felix' situation. He wouldn't have been viewed and treated as the good guy if all the others in the game had flat-out rejected him. The Nicleanders wouldn't dare give him a good guy medal at the end of the day, give him all the pies and cakes he could ask for, shoot off fireworks or make ice sculptures of him if they didn't respect, favor or even like him.
In reality, Fix-It Felix Jr. the good guy knew he was clearly well known, well loved, well appreciated...
So why did it feel like Felix the person just wasn't?
It seemed like everyone else got to enjoy themselves after the arcade closed; they got to put their job titles down for a moment and just be themselves as they were. But Felix' job title always hung over his head, always followed him around; he could never be allowed to put it down, he felt. No matter what was happening at the moment, Felix could never allow himself lose his composure...never allow himself to just be human...
And although he was a genuine good guy at heart, sometimes Felix wished he could just set aside the title of 'the perfect, honorary good guy of Fix-It Felix Jr'. and just be Felix the person. With all his faults and weaknesses and imperfections.
Some days Felix wished he could just breath, not having to worry about being the glue that held the very game of Fix-It Felix Jr. together...not having to fix everything else that was broken around him...
And just be accepted as the person he really was under his job title.
Sadly rubbing his fingers over his magic hammer at his side, the man sighed- that strange feeling in his gut fumbling around worse than ever before. His mournful eyes scanning the crowd of characters, he became painfully aware just how... alone he felt as well.
Which felt like a word that shouldn't apply to Felix. He was always surrounded by people- whether the Nicelanders or the other fellow good guys throughout the arcade. There was always someone to talk to, to be around...
And yet...it seemed like the good guy life was the lonely life. Especially at parties such as this one.
Everyone else around him had someone to dance with, to laugh with, to cheers with, to truly bond with- other than Felix. It seemed like everyone personally had someone by their side, someone who understood their plights in life- someone they considered a friend or even family...
And as his eyes danced around at everyone...staring as Pac-Man and Ms.Pac-Man shared a quick kiss before they hovered away...observing as Princess Peach kept glancing at the penthouse doors, no doubt waiting eagerly for Mario to show up...
The man of Fix-It Felix Jr. couldn't help but feel another, stranger longing he'd never felt before.
Although he wouldn't necessarily say he was a hopeless romantic, it slightly haunted Felix to see every other good guy in the arcade having someone to be in love with, having someone by his side to protect, save, adore...to kiss...
All but him.
Suddenly moved to take off his work hat and clench it close to his chest, Felix closed his eyes tight- that something pounding the strongest it ever had as his mind ran amok.
Why did it seem like everyone else around him lived the very life the fixer deep down found himself craving to have?
Why did Fix-It Felix Jr. the person have to be...the outcast, the outsider looking in? All alone in the so-called perfect good guy life?
At all once, the indignant man slammed his hat firmly back down on his head- refusing to feed into his spiraling, self-pity thoughts. He suddenly felt silly to long for anything more than he had.
Felix knew he had a good life- there was no denying that. Most other arcade games characters merely wished for and flat-out envied the life the fixer lived; it was a privilege that Felix did feel (mostly) grateful to have.
What is more, the good guy knew he had great NPCs in his game- he really did. That Mary was a total doll and an AMAZING cook. Bob was hoot to be around; Deanna was one of the funniest character the fixer had ever met. And despite his...er, intense reaction to situations at time, Gene was a pretty good mayor and an excellent leader.
Each Nicelander was very helpful and kind to him, Felix could easily admit- always ready to offer some sort of comment or gesture of praise, approval, or flattery...
Even if all they did was a little too much and a little too often...
In fact, if he was ever brave enough to admit it outloud, Felix would say that sometimes...well, most times actually...the Nicelander's interactions with him almost seemed voided of all real feeling. Their admittedly kind gestures seemed out of habit or like a mere duty instead of genuine or spontaneous. Their excessively strong respect and reverence of him seemed like a part of the job, like a mere part of the game for them...
And what was worse, their attention and 'love' (if the fixer could even call it that) always, always felt conditional.
If he was being brutally honest with himself, Felix couldn't help but wonder if the Nicelanders only liked him solely because he was the fixer, the perfect, honorary good guy of the game. He often caught himself wondering if he had any different role, even the role of the bad guy, would the Nicelanders still respect him, praise him? If he didn't have a handy magic hammer that could fix almost anything, would they reject him and treat him differently?
If he ever lost being Fix-It Felix the good guy, would they still like to be around Felix the person?...
And perhaps that's why deep down Felix kind of wished Ralph would show up to the anniversary party tonight? Because as awkward and at times uncomfortable as it was to talk to the 9-foot-tall wrecker of the game, there was something...oddly refreshing to Felix about their discussions at the same time.
In the few times he'd actually got brave enough to talk to him in the past 30 years, Felix realized early on that Ralph was...well, a real person. He wasn't the bad guy the Nicelnaders claimed he was- not on bit; he somehow able to put that title down when the arcade was closed. In fact, Felix would say that Ralph was really just a gentle giant and quite kind once you got to know him a little better.
What is more, the bad guy never once sucked up to Felix, never pretended to please the good guy of the game with words and gestures of praise. And in all honesty, Felix would go to the extent of saying that Ralph never really treated him like the amazing good guy who deserved a penthouse, a pie, ice sculptures or fireworks.
As odd as it was to say, Wreck-It Ralph treated Fix-It Felix Jr. as just another person, just another character in their game- not as someone who had a special, important role in the game. To Ralph, Felix was just a good guy, not just the good guy...
And as even more odd as it was to say, Felix actually really, really appreciated that fact about Ralph.
All in all, though, whether it was Ralph or the Nicelanders, Felix was perfectly happy to share the game he lived in with each and every gamemate he had...
And yet, that's where his odd relationships with each of the Nicelanders and even Ralph seemed to end. They were just people who were in his game- people who weren't distance enough to be called vague acquaintances and yet not close enough to be called understanding friends. They were people who were all just... gamemates to Felix. Nothing more, nothing less.
For the past 30 years, Felix didn't feel like he had anyone he could call close friends...or anyone he could considered like family...or even the love of his life...
And so despite being as well treated as Felix the good guy was, despite living in a game full of characters...despite being surrounded by people tonight at the party...
Fix-It Felix Jr. the person was really just an outcast- all alone in his game and in the good guy life.
And at that stunning, undeniable reality, the fixer was startled in his place still by the doors- reflexively clutching onto his hammer. In that split moment in time, the horrifying identity of just what that raw, strange feeling of something inside him was came into the light of his mind.
That something, he realized, was always linked to the Nicleanders. To Ralph. To his various medals. Even to his very good guy title and life.
It was always connected the various parties that would be held- but especially the anniversary parties each year. To the times when he was often the center of attention- and yet still on the outskirts of real acceptance at the same time. Always linked to the constant and consistent reminders of how much he was just the good guy to almost everyone else, not just another character with thoughts, feelings, and emotions.
That ugly, nasty, beyond ironic something finally had a face it couldn't hide behind anymore- hitting Felix hard. And it only took exactly 30 years for it to do so.
As full as his life seemed to be, as good as gold as his heart was, Fix-It Felix Jr. realized he had everything most others wished to have- yet he had nothing at the same time. Nothing that really matter, that was.
In his life and in his heart, there was always something missing. Or someone missing...or maybe a whole bunch of someones, if he was being honest...
After 30 long years of denying, of ignoring... of just fixing everything broken around him...
Felix realized that there was an empty hole in his heart- and although it had never once been filled by someone, there was still a loss felt. It's void was now painfully hard to ignore- and that made the good guy feel beyond empty. Beyond torn.
As hard as it was to grasp it, Felix felt flat-out...
Broken inside.
And as even harder as it was to accept it, Fix-It Felix Jr. knew deep down that that was something no delightful catchphrase, no trademark grin, and no magic hammer could ever fix.
"You ok, Felix?" Gene's voice to the left of the fixer suddenly chimed out, nearly startling the poor good guy to death.
Quickly blushing from embarrassment, Felix reflexively crossed his arms and tried his best to push down his broken feeling. Grimacing sharply, he forced a smile at the man beside him.
"Of course I'm okay, Gene!" the fixer cheerily lied as he suddenly abandoned his stance and clasped his sweaty gloved hands together. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Clearly skeptical of the good guy's seeming assurance, Gene peered closer into Felix' red, almost downcast-looking face and frowned.
"You just seem a little...distant tonight, I guess," the mayor mused softly, gently swishing his martini around in its' glass. "You haven't had piece of pie yet and haven't danced the 'Fix-It Felix' once. You sure you're alright?"
Biting his lip, Felix quickly looked away from the mayor for a moment to focus at the disco balls hanging above the dance floor. Thoughts swarmed him all at once- thoughts of confiding in Gene, of telling the mayor exactly how he felt- now that he could identify just what he felt.
For a moment all too serious, the fixer was about to express how deeply, painfully broken he felt down inside...
But he quickly decided against it, looking solely back at the mayor of the game. The good guy knew Gene wouldn't truly understand how he felt; it was so odd for a man with an incredible fixing ability to feel so broken, after all.
"No, no, I'm fine!" Felix began to brush off, shrugging carelessly as he motioned over his shoulder. "Just waiting on Ral- er, Mario to show up, heh."
"That Mario," Gene muttered as he rolled his eyes- although a gentle smirk remained on his round face. "Always late, am I right?"
With that, the Nicelander took a quick drink of his martini and nodded towards the party scene behind him- now an eager, inviting look on his face.
"Why don't you go and enjoy yourself, Felix?" he asked as he placed a hand on the good guy's notably stiff shoulder. "You've been by the door practically all evening. I'll stay close to the door and watch out for Mario."
Gulping slightly in a strange panic, Felix quickly shook his head. The thought of trying to converse with the other party goers sounded like an awkward, honestly unappealing prospect...especially with his newfound, uncontained emotions still crawling to the surface.
"No, I'm fine waiting here for him, really," the fixer weakly began to rebute, trying to plant his boots firmly on the ground. "I dont mind staying here by the door-"
But Gene was already pushing him slightly towards to the party scene, making the good guy clumsily stumble over his work boots and almost trip down the penthouse steps.
"No, I insist!" the mayor cheekily grinned- before saying the words that unintentionally sent an raw chill up Felix' spine. "This is your party after all! We're not just celebrating the game- we're celebrating you, Felix!"
Me as the good guy, Felix couldn't help but mentally add, his face falling all the more as he straightened up from his near fall. Not me as a person...
Blankly blinking at his words, Felix had no choice up but to mindlessly tug at his too-tight vest and awkwardly grimace in Gene's direction. When the mayor just gave him a cheeky thumbs up in return and bobbed past him to talk to another Nicelander close by, the good guy gulped again and focused back on the party himself.
Instead of quickly going off to join the festivity as the Nicelander had, the fixer just stood still- twisting his fingers over each other again. He felt frozen in place, unsure of what to do- and for some reason, completely overwhelmed.
His eyes dancing from one character to another...one gamemate to another...Felix allowed a shaking sigh to slip from his lips. He nervously adjusted his hat, pulling it shakily down on his forehead a little.
And after a moment spend tightly closing his blue eyes and fiddling with his magic hammer, ever ready to fix anything at a moment's notice...
Fix-It Felix Jr. forced himself to forget his toubles, his doubts, his wishes, his desires of something different- and to stand tall with a fake sence of pride. He forced himself to ignore his tight vest, his blushing face, his pounding heart- and to replace them with that flaky confident step back into his feet.
And as hard as it was to do, he forced himself to stroll forward, to put that artificial smile back onto his face- just in time, too, as Bob came up to him and commended him on the great party.
In a moment all too familiar to him, Felix forced himself to just do what he'd done for the past 30 years and now counting: just pull himself together. Just ignore and dismiss what he was now concrete thinking and feeling. Just go on smiling, go on being the glue that held the game together and remaining the unshakible, the invincible...the unbreakable good guy of Fix-It Felix Jr.- before, during, and after arcade hours.
Just go on fixing everything else around him like the fixing good guy he was.
But as Deanna suddenly came and pulled him to the dancefloor, Fix-It Felix Jr couldn't help but think one last persistent thought.
When will I -or someone else- be able to fix this broken heart of mine?
(A/N: gOsH that was way longer than I meant for it to be (per the norm) lol XD I can't write a short one-shot *insert eye-roll*
Anywho, Calhoun's one-shot will b on it's way soon, too! ;) I'll try to keep it shorter than this one was lol)