FYI, The flashback used in this chapter is actually a continuation of the one used in Chapter 16 of "That Little Game...", the one involving King Candy and Candlehead. And yes, I actually looked up instructions on how to make a corn maze so they are doing it correctly lol. Turbo and I thank everyone for all the wonderful reviews so far! :)

Save Me from My Dark Side

Chapter Seventeen

Oh yeah, she was lost. Not that Rosie really minded being lost in a place that looked like this!

Once she had reached the starting point of Rainbow Road, her jaw dropped and her eyes grew larger as she took in the enormous candy world spread out before her. The air smelled sweeter than any other she had ever experienced, the colors were the brightest, and don't even get her started on the amazing graphics. This place was literally ripped out of a dream; she couldn't imagine why Turbo hated it here so much, it was absolutely divine!

Hmm, okay so...where to go? She realized she probably should have found someone that knew their way around before ever trekking inside, but she hadn't counted on it being such a huge place. It was definitely the largest game world she'd ever been in and also the most impressive. She squinted out ahead of her to scan the expansive domain and her eyes fell on the sugar-white castle that she was sure Vanellope resided in. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her that Turbo himself had lived there as well not very long ago...it was just last summer that "King Candy's" rule had ended, strange as that sounded.

Oh well, there was sure to be no better guide than the president. If only this place came with a map, perhaps she wouldn't have ended up lost. She had reasoned that if she stuck to the racetrack that she would eventually reach a starting line which would be close enough to some civilization. Unfortunately, it was a very long track and she was beginning to wonder if she was even going in the right direction. After about thirty minutes of this, the sound of engines approached from behind and Rosie had enough sense to know to get out of the way.

Vanellope was racing around with Snowanna and the candy-haired president's kart screeched to a halt, spinning into a half-donut and the left side's wheels lifting off the track to tilt the car slightly before the whole kart slammed back down in a proper position. Snowanna hadn't caught up yet, as her kart wasn't as fast as her president's. Vanellope pushed her goggles up on top of her head, her hair windblown from speeding about, and she hopped out with a big toothy grin on her face.

"Sweet mother of monkey milk, you think someone that's married to a racer would know to steer clear of the tracks!" she joked loudly as she ran to go give Rosie a squeezing hug.

"Hey, I got off before you ran me over," the cheerleader told her as she returned the gesture.

Vanellope glitched backwards off of her. "Hey, you wanna ride around and see some of the sights?" she asked excitedly.

Rosie wasn't sure, she kind of wanted to see how Turbo was handling things so far. She had been concerned that the first few hours here would be the roughest on him. Vanellope sensed the hesitation and gave her a sly smile.

"It'll give the hubs more time to miss you," she added coyly, the end of her sentence having a sing-song tone to it.

The teen smirked back, thinking that wasn't such a bad idea. "All right, you win. Lead away, tour guide."

To say Skittles did not approve of the gray-skinned racer being in his field would have been a vast understatement. Turbo had been minding his own business, whistling as he did his little chore of counting off stalks and pulling along a licorice rope to wrap the bunches in that he had been doing for the past hour, when the equine sneaked up behind him on quiet hooves, his presence only noted when hot breath was felt on the racer's back. Turning around slowly with widened eyes of fear, Turbo grinned nervously at his pink nemesis.

"Hehe, hey there, Skittles," he greeted through clenched teeth, a fake smile glued to his face. "You're probably still upset about that comment I made about tanning your hide, huh? And flipping you the bird? That was all a joke, buddy, I was just playing."

The uni-candy-corn whinnied loudly and raised his front legs up. Turbo didn't need to be told twice to the get the heck of his way. He dropped his spool of rope and hightailed it for the edge of the field where the beast could not get him. Why the heck Gloyd had said that this thing was harmless, he wasn't sure, but he was dearly mistaken! Unfortunately, he tripped on his own feet and received a face full of brown sugar dirt, and much to his horror could hear the stomping of the hooves getting closer to him. Expecting the worst, Turbo curled up in a protective ball, hoping his helmet would be enough to protect his skull from being crushed.

That's when the Swizz showed up.

The green-haired tanned boy slid into view, kicking up some dust in his wake, and blocked Skittles from going any further towards Turbo. The enraged uni-candy-corn halted to a stop upon seeing the familiar child yet he brayed in protest at not being allowed to go any further.

"No, Skittles, bad!" Swizzle scolded him, shaking a disapproving finger at him. "Go away!"

Skittles blew out some hot air, his feet prancing in place as he debated to either do as he was told or disobey. Turbo had peeked out once he heard Swizzle's voice and, upon seeing that was more than likely out of danger, dared to roll onto his back and propped his upper body up with his elbows bent backwards beneath him.

"If you don't go, you won't get any sugar cube treats," bribed the Swizz when the animal didn't move.

Folding his ears back, Skittles raised his head and snorted then turned around and trotted away. Swizzle held his arms in the air and rotated around slowly in a circle, a proud look on his face.

"Please, please, hold your applause," he said to the imaginary crowd in his head, throwing in a few bows for added measure.

Turbo stared at him in a mix of both awe and bewilderment, his heart still racing from the scare he'd had. He heard footsteps approaching quickly from his right and both Gloyd and Rancis appeared, the latter appearing out of breath.

"What happened?" Gloyd asked as the Swizz finally straightened up and stuck his hands in his blue jacket's pockets.

"Oh nothing," he replied in his usual cool demeanor, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just doing the everyday hero thing."

"You mean I got all sweaty for nothing?" Rancis whined, wiping his brow with one hand and flinging the moisture to the side.

"Oh please, you're such a baby," joked Gloyd as he punched him in the arm, causing the blonde boy to rub his shoulder. He finally noticed Turbo still laying in the dirt and he said, "Speaking of whiny babies, what are you doing laying down on the job?"

Turbo tried to muster up a glare at him, but he ended up looking more insulted than anything. "Hey, I came this close to getting killed by your little harmless pet, I'll have you know!"

Swizzle puffed up his chest and pointed to himself. "I came to the rescue."

"What do you want, a medal?" Gloyd asked him as he stuck his arm out to help Turbo get up, while Rancis went around behind him to push up on his upper back for an added boost.

Once he was upright, Turbo dusted off the brown sugar from his suit that had stuck when he fell.

Gloyd spoke up again. "I guess that's my fault for not giving you sugar cubes before we went in here," he said apologetically, digging in his jacket. "Hold your hand out."

Turbo received the little treat bag of treats for the tyrannical equine, which consisted of simple everyday cubes of compacted white sugar.

"We had to do the same thing when we all first explored this area back when we got plugged in," Rancis further explained.

Swizzle chuckled as he put his hands back in his jacket pockets, his posture that of relaxation. "Yeah, Candlehead was snacking on a few that she had brought with her and she dropped some while he was chasing us. Then he stopped and he ended up liking her, so we all figured to do the same thing only we hand-fed him instead of just dropping them on the ground in front of him."

"Huh, I wish I'd known that sooner," muttered Turbo, unable to fully believe that just straight sugar was all he needed to keep the beast at bay.

"Well, you could have known if you'd hung out with us more," Gloyd replied under his breath.

He regretted saying that because judging by the look on Turbo's face, he had heard him, and it wasn't a very nice look either. Thankfully they were saved from being chewed out for back-talking when more girlish voices came into their hearing. Turbo had to turn his head to see Crumbelina and Adorabeezle showed up, skipping along the rows...or rather Adorabeezle was, Crumbelina had a more sophisticated gait but they both managed to keep up the same pace.

"What do you girls want?" Gloyd asked in an annoyed tone, crossing his arms. "You better come prepared to work."

"We're here for important business," the Italian-dessert themed girl responded as the two girls approached the male group.

Adorabeezle pointed one of her pale fingers at Turbo's boots. "Pick up your foot, please."

Turbo gave her an odd look but he did what she said just to keep from having to deal with arguing with a girl. He didn't move a muscle save for bending his knee so his foot would be up. Crumbelina pulled out a small brush to dust the bottom of his shoe off then brought out a measuring tape, stretching it out vertically and then changed to a more horizontal position. She pointed her finger down to symbolize that he could rest his foot back down on the ground then measured how tall the boot was on his leg. Turbo turned his head back to the boys with a questioning look but all the boys did was shrug, not knowing what they were doing.

Crumbelina rolled her tape back up and stuck it in the pocket of her gold jacket, then nodded once at Adorabeezle before turning around and walking off.

"Thanks, Mister Turbo!" Adorabeezle grinned at him happily, the large cherries dangling from her hat swaying back and forth, and then she bounced off after her more polished friend.

"What in the name of deep-fried Snickers bars was that?" Rancis wanted to know before the girls had even disappeared.

Why are kids so random? Turbo thought to himself, trying to keep from rolling his eyes as he didn't want to hear any lip from the boys.

"Ahh, they're just bein' girls," Swizzle said to his peanut-butter themed friend, leaning to the side a little so he could look past Turbo and watch them leave. Turbo turned his head to the side to hide a grin, finding it humorous that a nine-year-old would be perverted enough to sneak a peek at his female peers' cabooses.

Gloyd clapped his hands together to get the attention back to him. "Okay, enough dawdling. If we're gonna get this thing done, we need to get back to work!"

About Thirty Minutes Later...

Candlehead had wandered along with both Sticky Wipplesnit and Taffyta Muttonfudge, the latter doing not much else but sucking on her strawberry lollipop much to Turbo's annoyance. It didn't take him long to determine that Sticky was just a little boy crazy, as she would at first tag along after Swizzle, then Gloyd, then Rancis, and then make her way back to Swizzle again. The only one who didn't show her any attention was Gloyd, who would probably much rather be pranking her (and any other girl) rather than trying to make kissy-face. Rancis apparently thought himself cooler than whipped cream when it came to girls what with his slight boasting, which was pretty laughable in Turbo's opinion; the Swizz was more of a natural guy, taking the relaxed don't-sweat-it approach.

Taffyta was beginning to creep Turbo out since she would stare at him judgmentally with those icy blue eyes of hers that he found himself avoiding. He would admit that she was definitely one of the better racers when he was king but he also didn't like her very much at all, as she reminded him a female Teddy as far as attitude went. Apparently the feeling had become mutual as she didn't even utter a word to him.

Oh well, you can't win them all, Turbo mentally said, and a bit of sadness entered into him as he began to recall how he had gotten shunned by so many people in Game Central Station.

The candle-topped lass had decided for whatever reason to follow Turbo around, humming random little songs to herself as she skipped after him to help with the licorice rope( even though she wasn't really helping, she just thought she was). The little flame on her head would waver every time she bopped her head and Turbo was getting antsy about her accidentally setting the field on fire. Then again, if he had to choose between her fire and Skittles' fire, he would choose the former each time. At least he could blow hers out, which he had to try not to do or else she'd have a screaming fit. You could only get away with doing that if she wasn't paying attention.

She started humming the Sugar Rush theme, which was enough to drive Turbo insane. He had always hated hearing that bouncy little song with Japanese words he couldn't understand. He was fairly sure that the kids knew the translation, since they were part of the game and it only made sense for them to know it.

"You know, I saw your eyes glitch one time when you were still the king," Candlehead mentioned randomly. "It kinda spooked me."

"Good," he replied bluntly, not wanting to encourage her to talk anymore. Conversations with Candlehead rarely made any sense, and he was speaking from personal experience.

The minty-green haired girl didn't seem to notice, or care, that he wasn't in a talking mood.

"It was that time I asked you if you wanted a queen," she continued to remind him as she looked down at the ground and tried to match her footsteps to step inside the ones Turbo left behind. "And to think you went and got one later."

He slowed down considerably, his eyes glazing over as the memory washed over him. Candlehead didn't notice his reaction to her statement, and if you asked her, she would say she was glad he had slowed down enough for her to actually keep up with him.

Sugar Rush - circa 2002

King Candy slammed the door to his royal chambers shut, an echo resounding down the hallway afterwards. How dare she, how dare that little brat! It had taken all that he had to keep himself from going into a tirade in front of everyone after she had dared to ask him if he wanted...a queen? He had to keep himself together long enough to finish his chat with Sour Bill and then race back to his castle, hastily park the kart in its throne spot, and then storm off to his bedroom.

His breathing was at the point of hyperventilation, his fair skin reddened from the rage that he now allowed himself to feel, his blood literally boiling in his veins, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He squinted his brown eyes shut, trying to force himself to not think too much on it, remind himself that nobody here knew who he really was and certainly had no knowledge of her.

"Little damn pipsqueak brats," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Damn, damn, damn!"

He had been doing so good at masquerading as the true king of Sugar Rush, doing so good at keeping a lid on his true identity, doing so good at keeping the memories of his past life locked up in the back part of his mind, especially the most painful ones. He had been able to fool himself into thinking that he belonged here, that this was really his home, pretending to be happy for the first time in a long time.

And then that...candle-topped dolt of a child had to bring up possibly introducing a romantic counterpart into his life? The very suggestion that he even toy with the idea was absolutely laughable, ridiculous, and definitely not turbo-tastic. He literally leaped on the bed to flop on his stomach, burying his face in his marshmallow pillow and started screaming into it to muffle the sound, his hands gripping tightly at wads of bedding as he let all his frustrations go. The screaming made his throat and chest hurt and he finally grew exhausted from the experience, but it mattered not. The yells eventually turned into sobs and he wrapped his arms around his pillow to hug it, soaking it in salty tears.

Why did she have to DIE? God, I wouldn't even be here surrounded by these people that don't even know who I really am if she were alive.

He sat up once he'd calmed down some to wipe his eyes with one of his purple coat sleeves and attempted to get his breathing back to normal. He peered around his stolen bedroom, the one that belonged to someone else (the glitch), and his eyes fell on his full-length mirror standing in the corner of the room. The king crawled off the bed and went over to it, his reflection apparent long before he reached it.

No, not his reflection. It wasn't him in the mirror, it was someone else. Someone that didn't really exist, a made up being, a facade. The clownish over-sized nose, the bald head save for a couple patches of gray hair and eyebrows, a huge red bow tie, ludicrous elf shoes with little jingles on the end. This was the reflection of someone that was happy, someone that everyone loved, admired and respected.

He wasn't that person. If he were go out right now and tell everyone who he really was, he would be met with anger, hate and hostility. Maybe he deserved it, but he didn't want that.

I want my old life back.

Two pinkish hands pressed into the cool glass of the mirror's surface as he studied himself in it. He hadn't seen his real form in so long, he wondered if he would recognize it. What would he look like? A sad shadow of a man that had all the life sucked out of him? Or perhaps the malicious sneering face of a murderer and a fraud?

The king's normally gentle features transformed into a more monstrous one the longer he looked at himself, and he grabbed both sides of the mirror and threw it forcefully against the floor. It shattered as it impacted the candy rock tiles, a loud deafening crash bouncing off the walls and ceiling.

There, now he didn't have to look at "himself" anymore.

Or rather, he didn't have to be constantly reminded that he wasn't the same person that he was so many years ago during a better time of his life.

No, he had worked too hard and too long to make himself belong somewhere again. Too much time and planning, too much heartache and suffering on his part. He had kept it up for five years without a hitch and he was going to keep on playing his false role as long as he could, forever if he must.

Don't lose your head, ol' boy. You're going to lose another home if you let every little thing knock you over the edge like that.

It's not really my home...

IT IS NOW, SHUT UP. This is your home now and you have to keep it that way! Don't let anything ruin that, especially yourself!

Damn it, I'm so lonely here though. I'm surrounded by snotty children and people made out of candy, for Namco's sake!

But they LIKE you, you're their KING. They all love you just the way you are.

But I'm not the way I am, I'm not myself.

STOP SAYING THAT. Get your head back in the game and go out there and be the happy, jolly King Candy that everyone knows and loves. You'll be happier if you would just allow yourself to go along with it entirely. Calm down and stop snivelling or you'll ruin EVERYTHING.

He stood there and argued with himself, the darker half winning as it usually did. It was always much simpler to go along with that part of him, it was the less painful route in the end. He cleared his throat and straightened up his red bow tie...

Her hair was red...

SHUT THE HELL UP.

He looked down at the shattered pieces of glass and the destroyed mirror frame, sighing as he did so. He supposed he would have to clean this mess himself, since he could hardly come up with any logical or believable explanation to give to Sour Bill as to why it had ended up on the floor like that.

Very well. Sometimes kings have to do things that they don't want to.

Present Day

"Do they glow in the dark?"

Turbo turned his head around and peered down when he heard the girlish voice snap him out of his memory. Dazed, he foggily remembered that Candlehead had been following him down the rows in the field and her huge green eyes stared at him blankly as she awaited the answer to her question.

"Do what glow?"

"Your eyes!" she clarified, pointing at her own while crossing them. "Don't you remember what we were talking about?"

He blinked hard at her and then his features lowered into a glare, rather insulted by the question.

"What makes you think they do?" Turbo growled, turning his head forward so he could continue walking without tripping on himself...again.

"They already kinda glow in normal light, so I figured they had to in the dark."

"That's a really rude assumption," he scolded her, starting to feel self-conscious about his eyes now, which he never had before. "And if you don't like my eyes, then don't look at them."

"But they're the color of lemon drops and I like lemon drops!" Candlehead chipperly stated.

Turbo was growing tempted to find the nearest candy tree and hang himself with the licorice to escape the insanity that he was surrounded by. When the heck was Rosie coming to visit? He felt pathetic pining for her after only being here maybe close to two hours, but he couldn't help it. Being here was reminding him of all those years that she hadn't been around and he felt himself getting a little depressed just thinking about it. He shook it off, telling himself she'd get here when she got here and until then he just needed to keep his mind preoccupied.