"Hey," Axel said with a shrug, "you tried."

The twins had taken a page from Turbo's metaphorical book and stood on top of their racing helmets to get a good view out the window without straining themselves. They both stared at the sullen handyman, his blue cap in his hands.

"I'm sorry," Felix said, first looking at Rally, then Axel. "I truly am. Don't be miffed at Vanellope, though. I think she wanted to believe me, but without any evidence…" he sighed. "I guess there was nothing she could really do. Justifiably, I mean. Suppose I can't blame her."

"It's alright," Rally reassured him. "It's not that bad in here."

"Bettah than the junkyard," Axel agreed.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," Felix said.

Rally and Axel exchanged glances. Kinda, they seemed to say. But Felix hadn't noticed.

"I'm sure this'll all iron itself out," Rally said. "It always does."

"It does, dunnit?" Axel said.

Felix scratched absently at his arm, at a nonexistent itch. "Oh, but I can tell Turbo's none too happy with me. He's not saying much."

The comment was directed at the twins, but Turbo heard it just the same. When the donut cops saw Felix coming, they went ahead and shackled his ankles and cracked the cell door, because that's always what happened. There was no way they would've known that Felix would come bringing bad news, and that Turbo didn't much feel like talking after he heard it. Turbo looked on at Felix from the doorway, silent.

"He'll get over it," Axel said, glaring at Turbo with his eyebrows raised. "Ya did all ya could. We get it."

"Yeah," Rally said, giving Turbo an equally stern look.

Felix took a step toward Turbo's cell. "Can I…?"

Again, Turbo said nothing, but backed away from the doorway, nudging the cell door open a tad with his foot. Felix exhaled a sigh of relief, stepping inside.

Turbo was just inside the door, arms crossed, but as soon as he had a close look at Felix's sad eyes, he uncrossed them.

"You're making it hard for me to stay mad at you, y'know that?" Turbo said, giving the center of Felix's chest a gentle poke.

"Turbo, I truly did—"

"I know," Turbo said. "I had my hopes, but after I got to thinking about it last night…" He shrugged. "I doubted she'd let em go. I mean, it's like you said. No evidence, or whatever."

Turbo grabbed Felix's hat out of the handyman's grip and situated it atop his own head. With the hat on, he looked bald, his messy mohawk hidden underneath. "And anyway, after hearing what it was like to live in the junkyard, I'm kinda starting to think they are better off in here."

He didn't really believe that, but he'd say it for Felix's sake. He didn't have to be a jerk one hundred percent of the time, he guessed. "They said the place is overrun with candy coons."

"So," Felix said, "you're not angry?"

"How can I stay mad at a face like this?" Turbo said, grabbing either side of Felix's face and giving it a squish. "It's impossible."

Felix smiled a little. "Okay…but I can tell you're still mad, you know."

Damn, he's good.

"Not at you," he said. "At this whole"—he spread his arms in an arc above his head—"situation. So, kinda…at myself, I guess."

Whoa, where had that come from? Felix could make him spill the most intimate details about himself just by looking at him. In a way, he hated that someone else had that level of control over his emotions.

But in Felix's case, he guessed it was worth it.

"You've just got to start looking at the brighter side of things," Felix said. "So you've made a few…mistakes in the past."

Turbo raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, a lot of mistakes," Felix said. "But think about it this way. Now, there's…nowhere to go but up!"

Turbo scoffed, shaking his head. But Felix's smile was contagious, so he grinned. "Only you could look at it like that, I hope you know. Everybody else thinks I'm…"

What? Insane? A monster? An asshole? All of the above?

"Well, let's just say they don't think too highly of me," Turbo said.

"You know, my neighbor Deanna has a saying she's fond of. You wanna hear it?"

"No." Turbo tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn't. The corners of his mouth upturned.

Felix pursed his lips. "Well, you're going to hear it, anyway. 'Time heals all wounds.' And you know what? I believe that."

"I don't think time's gonna fix what I did," Turbo deadpanned.

"It won't fix it," Felix said. "You'll have to do a lot of that on your own. But it'll definitely help."

Turbo pulled one of the peppermint-encrusted chairs over to his bunk.

"Here, sit."

He was tired of standing. He sat with his legs crossed on his bunk, knee-to-knee with Felix.

"I don't even know…" he shook his head. "When I get outta here, I don't even know where I'll go. I mean, before Sugar Rush, I lived in the power outlet, but that's not a whole lot more fun than this place." He spread his hands to indicate his dungeon cell.

"Well, you'll stay with me, of course," Felix said, smiling warmly, his cheeks hiding half his eyes.

"No, nonono," Turbo said. "I couldn't. Wreck-it wouldn't let me, anyway. I'm sure with a little interior design, the power outlet'll be just fine." He forced a half-smile, but he knew it wasn't convincing.

"Oh, hush," Felix said. "I know you never did come to Fix-it Felix, Jr. but a couple times—"

"Three times," Turbo said.

Felix laughed. "I'm not sure if you saw the big field off to the left of my apartment complex in the three times you visited, but I made it into two long rows of duplexes. Well, 'duplex' is a term I'm using loosely, it's not so much as two apartments with separate entrances as it is tiny homes that happen to be close together, however, they do have a…"

And on he went about construction matters. This used to be a common occurrence. His rambling was actually comforting, since it meant things were finally getting back to how they used to be around each other. Turbo would bore him about cars, and Felix was always so eager to listen, and actually seemed to care a little bit, so Turbo listened as best he could about the complicated floor plans, and how he had to widen all of the dimensions for Ralph's house, et cetera, et cetera. But seeing Felix's face light up was entertainment enough, Turbo thought.

"…and you'd be more than welcome to live in one of those, of course," Felix said, "but I just figured you'd take the spare bedroom in my penthouse?"

He said it as a question, and by the way the handyman was looking at Turbo, he was awaiting an answer. Turbo looked at him with what he hoped was a serious face. But Felix had gotten himself so worked up and excited that it was hard to do that.

"And what would all those Nicelanders think about living in the same apartment complex as a…" He was about to say 'murderer,' but he didn't suppose that was wise. Felix was so happy, why ruin it? "…as me?"

"Oh, they'll be fine with it," Felix said, slapping a hand against Turbo's knee. "And if they're not, then…" He scrunched his lips in thought.

"Then time heals all wounds, right?" Turbo said.

"That's exactly right," Felix nodded. "I'm sure they'll understand."

For a split second, Turbo felt the tiniest ray of hope, but it was quashed as soon as it had risen within him. "Nah, there's no way they'd let me that close to your game's coderoom." He shook his head. "Should be either in your penthouse somewhere or in the basement of your complex, if you didn't know."

"I know, I've seen it," Felix said matter-of-factly. "And I've thought of that, and I've already taken care of it."

Turbo raised both eyebrows. "You have?"

"Of course," Felix said. "I'm not a dummy, I know they would've given me guff about that, first thing. So I've sealed it off."

"Sealed it off?" Turbo repeated. "What if ya need to get in there for somethin? Like, you get a virus, or somethin, and someone needs to get in there and fix it?"

"I feel like you're not giving me enough credit," Felix said slyly, shaking his head, though he was smiling all the same. "I know the need might arise to access the coderoom again. So I've—well, let's just say I've made a way for me to get in there, and no one else. I've got it covered."

"You Turbo-proofed it, huh?" Turbo said.

"I did, indeed," Felix said. "Only I can open it, and that's all you need to know about it."

"You don't trust me, huh?"

"Not with that, I don't," Felix said.

Well, at least he's honest.

"The less you know, the better it'll be, and the more the Nicelanders—and Ralph—and everyone else, for that matter, will trust you."

Turbo shrugged. "I guess that kinda does make sense. If I don't know, it can't tempt me, right?"

"That's correct," Felix said with a nod. "Anyhow, I don't want you to be worried about everyone else in my game. They'll come around. I know they will."

"Don'tcha think you'll be miserable until they do, though?" Turbo said. "Didn't you say they're like a bunch of moms and dads to you?"

"They really are," Felix said. "And I'm not saying it won't be hard. They'll be plenty sour at me for a while, believe you me," he said, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, "but it's nothing that won't come to pass. I know it'll work itself out."

Suddenly, Turbo laughed. He was bad about doing that out of nowhere when something entered his brain. But that would be nothing new to Felix, he was sure. "We're talking about this like it's gonna happen tomorrow. I don't get outta here for ten years."

"You're eligible for parole," Felix said.

"Yeah, but how long I have to wait until I'm eligible has yet to be specified," Turbo said. "And I'm sure that'll be the 12th of never." He scowled.

Felix was silent, but Turbo knew that look on his face. It was his thinking look. Turbo kept quiet, too, waiting for Felix to speak up again.

"Not unless I hurry it along," Felix finally said.

"And how would you do that?" Turbo said. It came out meaner than he'd meant it to, but Felix didn't take any notice, or if he did, he didn't show it.

"Well," Felix said, his trademark smile returning, "when you're on parole, they make you do community service, right?"

Turbo groaned loudly. "I didn't know that. Now I'll really never be let outta here on parole, there's no way Vanellope would let me do community service around here."

"It wouldn't have to be around here," Felix said. "I've got a few ideas in mind."

"Like what?"

"I won't tell you yet, I don't want to get your hopes up until I check on a few of my ideas," Felix explained. "But don't you worry." Felix tapped his temple. "I've got some ideas up in my noggin."

Turbo sighed. "Anything would be more exciting than sitting in here twiddling my thumbs."

"Well, like I said, don't get your hopes up yet," Felix said, "because you never know if Vanellope will agree to it, or if she does agree to it, when she'll let you do it. But I'll try my best, okay?"

"You sound like a man with a plan," Turbo smirked.

"Hopefully," Felix chimed.

And the conversation spun off to less serious things from there. It was kind of a relief to not talk about prison time, and parole, and living with Felix, and community service, and all that. Turbo doubted any of it would ever happen, but he didn't want to rain on Felix's happy little parade. It was no secret Vanellope hated him, and he hated her, and there was no way she'd ever do something in his favor. In fact, it was on the books that he'd be in here for ten years, but who would question her if it was for longer than that? Only Felix would, and his voice was just one. No one would care. He was pretty sure he'd be here indefinitely. But he couldn't bring himself to tell any of this to Felix, of course. Let him have his happy daydream for as long as he could.

"Wait," Turbo said suddenly, "what did you mean about me living in the spare bedroom in your penthouse?" He grinned devilishly. "Are you too good to share yours?"

Felix's face lit up with the honey glows. "Oh, well, to be honest I hadn't thought of it…"

They talked until Wynchel and Duncan made Felix get out. Their shift was ending, they said, they wanted to go home so would he please get the hell out and come back another time. They were just mad because they didn't get their fifth coffee break because they'd had to watch the cell door, Turbo thought.

Felix gave Turbo a soft peck on the lips as he left, saying he couldn't come tomorrow, he had a dinner party to go to, but he'd be back the day after. Felix got two steps out the door before Turbo yelled at him.

"Wait, your hat," Turbo called. He'd been wearing it on his head the whole time, and had forgotten about it until he noticed something amiss about the handyman.

"Keep it," Felix said. "I've got plenty more at home."

Turbo felt his face grow hot. He didn't know why.

And then he was smashed most ungently against the wall by Duncan, as per the norm, but he wasn't feeling it much. He couldn't get Felix's face out of his mind when he mentioned sharing a bedroom with him. He was too bashful. He'd have to fix it.

Pardon the pun.

Author's Note: This chapter seems different from the others somehow. I guess it's got so much dialogue in it, or something. I hope it sounded okay to yall. And I am SO SORRY ABOUT THE ENDING I COULDN'T HELP PUT A KING CANDY-ESQUE PUN IN THERE WHOOPS