Simply re-edited after realizing the crap I have on this sight is disgraceful. Nothing special. Just some late night drabble on Flapjack and K'nuckle's muted 'father-son' relationship. But not really.

I don't own nothing, nor the picture used for this story.


The kid sat on the edge of the dock and stared out over the gray blur of horizon that accompanied the fog. The evening air hung taut as his red, teary eyes examined the rheumy sky for a deeper meaning, while the other just stared at the back of his head.

"Come on kid, it was just a toy! Hell, I'll buy you a new one."

That was a rare suggestion. The waste of precious coins on a toy, instead of the usual booze.

"It wasn't just a toy." He sniffed, letting out another suppressed sob. Flapjack, although not ashamed of gross displays of emotion, certainly felt uncomfortable crying in front of K'nuckles. It wasn't so much the tears as the occasion.

K'nuckles didn't understand. For such a happy-go-lucky kid, he sure got down in the dumps, over stupid, little, things. His highs are highs, but his lows are friggin low.

Most would agree, Flapjack certainly had a knack for attaching himself to others, usually complete strangers. But inanimate objects? Another one of Flapjack's strange habits. But what could he say? The kid's damn sentimental.

As much as it had pained K'nuckles in the beginning, it was sort of was he liked most about the boy. He shuffled over to the dock edge and plopped down next to Flapjack, not so much disillusioned by the boy's crying, but rather curious as to why. Well, to some extent he was bothered by the sudden onset of tears (who didn't feel awkward in such a situation), but he felt a superficial need to front apathy, lest he come off a sap.

"Well what's the big deal?" he gruffed, taking a swig of maple syrup and then offering a bit to Flapjack, another rare occurrence. He needs it more than I do. K'nuckles thought, well, maybe not, but just a sip. The best cure for a sucky mood is something sweet. He recalled, briefly, how his father used to give him a sip of his 'cough syrup' after the all too frequent altercation with bigger, tougher kids and his own, even larger mouth.

"I dunno." Flapjack pouted and turned his shoulder from K'nuckles in a rather uncharacteristically standoffish way, furthering his stare not into the bleak sky, but into his hazy, confusing past. What past? He didn't remember it. And he was okay with that, he always had been. He remembered Bubby and to some extent K'nuckles, which was good, it was sufficient, more than sufficient.

But, the toy was his past. The last relevance Flapjack had to his origin. Which, he had to admit, he didn't know what was. So why be so sad then?

He rationalized it over and over, but returned to the same hole, the same gap in his naive, innocent mind and his ravenous heart. He didn't want to know, and least of all explain it to his 'family'. K'nuckles would have to tell Bubby in some way or another, and then the ordeal would become a tangible problem, one that made the source of his woes apparent. Well, itispretty obvious. He just didn't want to face it. He was happy with what he had. So why wish for more?

"Well stop being a sad sack and lets go to the Candy Barrel!" K'nuckles eyed Flapjack from a set position, speculative of any oncoming tears.

"I don't wanna!" Flapjack barely let out, past crying pants, but not stable enough to speak clearly. He buried his head into his folded arms and pulled knees. K'nuckles slapped his wooden palm over his face and sighed. "You go."

"Oh come on now, don't be like that." Not sure how to properly address and correct the given problem, the captain simply placed an awkward hand on the boys back and patted it with a stern carefulness. Flapjack looked up, back over the horizon, and then to the spot where his 'toy' had laid. It was an inconspicuous treasure, a faded blue and red sailor, made of yellowed wood, with a missing arm and scratched out eye. The smile had been aged by the sea and weather into a wise twist of a smirk, and the joints creaked accordingly to force; it wasn't something any child would covet, nor an object of any value to a thief or greedy, drunken sailor. So its absence came as a surprise to Flapjack. He kept it hidden, rarely playing with it once considering its enigmatic value. He grew to a routine, looking at the doll once every night and reaping theories, characters, parentsfrom its esoteric smile. Who had given it to him? Once, he had asked Bubby where it had come from. She had never seen it before. K'nuckles was completely indifferent to it. Flapjack had the thing ever since he could remember, so it must have harked some connection to his biological family. Not that he cared...until it was gone. Upon its disappearance he pictured a large ship, adorned in seaweed and cannon holes and glory cruising by Storm Along with an heir of valor, a clout only accompanied by heroes. On the ship floated a pale woman with electric blue eyes and corn colored hair, waiting sweetly and patiently. The ship was captained by a tanned, scarred, man; a man's man, who loved his woman. They stopped by the harbor and questioned the first two strangers they met: K'nuckles and Flapjack.

'Ho! Yon fellow strangers!'(Because that's the way heroes talk)

'Hello friend!'

'We're looking for our son, Flapjack.'

'I'm a Flapjack!'

'Tell me son, do you bear the gift?'

'What gift?'

'Why a blue and red sailor, of course! Any son of mine would know that.'

Without the proverbial mark, his father and mother turned their noses upward and set off once more.

And as Flapjack stared dumbly into the sea, the ship sailed away without a trace into the recesses of his mind.

Not that I want a family.

"What if I buy you some candy, huh? You'd like that?"

"Huh?"

"Candy Flap. Come on, only a bozo'd turn that down."

"I don't really feel like candy right now cap'n."

"What the hell'd that thing even mean, huh? Where'd you get it anyways?"

"I dunno."

"Well we're wasting daylight, boy, it's the Barrel or bust."

"I don't wanna go home." Flapjack looked up to K'nuckles with a quiet desperation that he couldn't ignore. Resignated to his hopes of getting any type of buzz, K'nuckles plopped flat fuck down next to Flap, his depression almost equaling the boy's.

"Jeez Flap, way to kill the mood. What's up with you? It ain't the toy, is it?"

"Not really."

"Well what then?"

"I dunno."

"Are we just gonna sit her all day!"

"You don't have to, cap'n." Flapjack said, quietly. His melancholy reached out to the captain and appealed to the minuscule amount of paternity in him. Not enough to take action, but enough to fend off the temptation to leave and take a well deserved nap in Bubby's mouth.

"Nah." he said. It's all he would say. But it was enough. He liked Flapjack, despite himself, and for some reason beyond him, felt responsible for the boy. In simple, instinctive ways. The way someone much older would someone much younger, and the way a friend cares for a friend. But they were more than that. He wouldn't go as far as to look at Flapjack as a son, or even a nephew...but a role like such wasn't far off. He cared for the boy enough to understand that he was a kid, and kids needed a special care-for. As disgusting as it was to K'nuckles, the vague words 'love' formed in his mind. Yeah, they needed a lotta love. And they made you love them. They produced the kind of relationships that made you realize profound truths about yourself and others, but moreover they demanded a strange kind of attachment, love, and respect that you can't find anywhere else. K'nuckles never asked of it, and he still didn't want it, but it was there...and he definitely appreciated it, to say the least. He knew Flap's basic story, unfortunate orphan, abandoned, raised by some whale, blah, blah, blah, and yeah he empathized (having somewhat of a sucky childhood himself), but the real sympathy came from one loner to another, a thief and a liar to a giver and a child. It was a unique find, but it was pure.

"You're gonna sit here with me?"

"Yup."

"And you're not gonna go to the Candy Barrel?"

"Nope." K'nuckles looked ahead to the blur of horizon that promised a storm.

"Even if it starts raining?"

"Looks like it."

Flapjack smiled to the captain, who looked on with a stoic disposition, almost annoyed, and hugged him. Flapjack had gained understanding of K'nuckles over the years. The fact that he was a dishonest, womanizing, swindling conartist had made itself apparent, but more than that he saw that that type of person was friends (and a selective picker her was) with him, Flapjack. That meant more to him, and drew much more respect than that of any hero or sailor with war stories. He valued K'nuckle's guidance and mentorship in a world where most looked down on him, ignored his presence. K'nuckles cut him slack when he needed it, and manned him up when he didn't. That'swhat mattered, and this realization blotted out the picture of the valiant ship sailing away on the horizon. K'nuckles felt Flapjack's prolonged stare, and slowly turned to look at the boy, who clung on to him.

"Ah, come on now boy, cut that out."

"I wuv wu captain K'nuckles!" he said, muffled by K'nuckles jacket. Moments passed in awkward silence, Flapjack staring up in anticipation to his captain. K'nuckles rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation.

"Yeah, you too kid."

"You what?" It was obvious that Flapjack's bouyant mood had returned, much to K'nuckles relief and annoyance.

"Mmphyu too." he mumbled.

"What was that, captain?"

"Ugh. Love you too, Flapjack." He tousled the boy's hair with a mild interest that begot Flapjack's signature shrill of a laugh. K'nuckles shuddered. "Come on Flapjack, lets go to the Candy Barrel now."

"Adventure!" Flapjack hopped up and ran circles around the captain as he rose.

"Yeah, yeah, an adventure. Calm down, K'nuckles got a headache." He swigged the remains of his syrup and tossed it into the sea.

"Flap, I gotta ask you something."

"Yeah cap?"

"What was that toy, and why'd you get all pissy over it?"

After careful thought, Flapjack said, "I've had it forever and was sad when I lost it." And that's the truth. Flapjack didn't have to lie (rather he refused, as a general rule) and just said the simplest explanation, which seemed to suffice K'nuckle's inquiry because for the rest of the trip, he was quiet.

They arrived at the Candy Barrel, dull and lifeless, but inviting and warm. They were used to its stale charm and eccentric inhabitants, mainly in part to their own stale routine and eccentricity. They sat at the bar and waited for Peppermint Larry to unearth from behind the bar much like a rag doll come to life, and on cue, after an impatient call from K'nuckles, he rose from the mahogany.

"Well heya fellas, what can I getcha?" He said with a happy, gay tenor, until he saw who his customers were. "Oh, you two. Lemme guess, you're just gonna sit there till closing and then leave without buying jacksquat?"

"Not today Peppermint Larry." K'nuckles said proudly, pulling a handful of coins to the bartop.

"Two please."

"Oh, high rollers, are we?"

"Yeah, yeah, ya jackass, just fill us up two mugs." K'nuckles put his head in his hand and turned towards Flapjack.

"Where'd you get the money, captain?"

"Eh, I get around. Don't ask so may questions boy. Ah, here we go." Larry slid two cold ones down the bar to K'nuckles and Flapjack, who awaited his captain to down both the mugs like usual. Instead, K'nuckles downed his own and pushed the other mug to Flapjack- the third miracle of the day.

"Really cap!"

"Yeah, sure, hurry up and drink it fore I change my mind."

"Thanks K'nuckles!" Flapjack held his trophy with both hands and carefully brought the rim to his lips.

"Come on kid! Chug the damn thing." He shoved the bottom upwards and drowned Flap in a slush of candy, even spilling some on his on his face and shirt.

"Blah!" Flapjack hacked and coughed, K'nuckles slapped him on the back as compensation.

"Ya done?"

"Well yeah."

"Alright well I spent all my money, now I think it's time for a good nap. Whaddya think Flap?" Flapjack smiled enthusiastically, not so much in excitement for a nap in the middle of the day (not two hours after waking from the last), but for K'nuckle's enthusiasm in spending time with Flapjack. The ship had completely disappeared into his mind as he walked off into mist towards his whale home, and although neither of them pictured each other as a perfect match for a family, that's what they were. A whale, a drunkard, and an orphan.


And for clarification, tSimply re-edited after realizing the crap I have on this sight is disgraceful. Nothing special. Just some late night drabble on Flapjack and K'nuckle's muted 'father-son' relationship. But not really.

I don't own nothing, nor the picture used for this story.


The kid sat on the edge of the dock and stared out over the gray blur of horizon that accompanied the fog. The evening air hung taut as his red, teary eyes examined the rheumy sky for a deeper meaning, while the other just stared at the back of his head.

"Come on kid, it was just a toy! Hell, I'll buy you a new one."

That was a rare suggestion. The waste of precious coins on a toy, instead of the usual booze.

"It wasn't just a toy." He sniffed, letting out another suppressed sob. Flapjack, although not ashamed of gross displays of emotion, certainly felt uncomfortable crying in front of K'nuckles. It wasn't so much the tears as the occasion.

K'nuckles didn't understand. For such a happy-go-lucky kid, he sure got down in the dumps, over stupid, little, things. His highs are highs, but his lows are friggin low.

Most would agree, Flapjack certainly had a knack for attaching himself to others, usually complete strangers. But inanimate objects? Another one of Flapjack's strange habits. But what could he say? The kid's damn sentimental.

As much as it had pained K'nuckles in the beginning, it was sort of was he liked most about the boy. He shuffled over to the dock edge and plopped down next to Flapjack, not so much disillusioned by the boy's crying, but rather curious as to why. Well, to some extent he was bothered by the sudden onset of tears (who didn't feel awkward in such a situation), but he felt a superficial need to front apathy, lest he come off a sap.

"Well what's the big deal?" he gruffed, taking a swig of maple syrup and then offering a bit to Flapjack, another rare occurrence. He needs it more than I do. K'nuckles thought, well, maybe not, but just a sip. The best cure for a sucky mood is something sweet. He recalled, briefly, how his father used to give him a sip of his 'cough syrup' after the all too frequent altercation with bigger, tougher kids and his own, even larger mouth.

"I dunno." Flapjack pouted and turned his shoulder from K'nuckles in a rather uncharacteristically standoffish way, furthering his stare not into the bleak sky, but into his hazy, confusing past. What past? He didn't remember it. And he was okay with that, he always had been. He remembered Bubby and to some extent K'nuckles, which was good, it was sufficient, more than sufficient.

But, the toy was his past. The last relevance Flapjack had to his origin. Which, he had to admit, he didn't know what was. So why be so sad then?

He rationalized it over and over, but returned to the same hole, the same gap in his naive, innocent mind and his ravenous heart. He didn't want to know, and least of all explain it to his 'family'. K'nuckles would have to tell Bubby in some way or another, and then the ordeal would become a tangible problem, one that made the source of his woes apparent. Well, itispretty obvious. He just didn't want to face it. He was happy with what he had. So why wish for more?

"Well stop being a sad sack and lets go to the Candy Barrel!" K'nuckles eyed Flapjack from a set position, speculative of any oncoming tears.

"I don't wanna!" Flapjack barely let out, past crying pants, but not stable enough to speak clearly. He buried his head into his folded arms and pulled knees. K'nuckles slapped his wooden palm over his face and sighed. "You go."

"Oh come on now, don't be like that." Not sure how to properly address and correct the given problem, the captain simply placed an awkward hand on the boys back and patted it with a stern carefulness. Flapjack looked up, back over the horizon, and then to the spot where his 'toy' had laid. It was an inconspicuous treasure, a faded blue and red sailor, made of yellowed wood, with a missing arm and scratched out eye. The smile had been aged by the sea and weather into a wise twist of a smirk, and the joints creaked accordingly to force; it wasn't something any child would covet, nor an object of any value to a thief or greedy, drunken sailor. So its absence came as a surprise to Flapjack. He kept it hidden, rarely playing with it once considering its enigmatic value. He grew to a routine, looking at the doll once every night and reaping theories, characters, parentsfrom its esoteric smile. Who had given it to him? Once, he had asked Bubby where it had come from. She had never seen it before. K'nuckles was completely indifferent to it. Flapjack had the thing ever since he could remember, so it must have harked some connection to his biological family. Not that he cared...until it was gone. Upon its disappearance he pictured a large ship, adorned in seaweed and cannon holes and glory cruising by Storm Along with an heir of valor, a clout only accompanied by heroes. On the ship floated a pale woman with electric blue eyes and corn colored hair, waiting sweetly and patiently. The ship was captained by a tanned, scarred, man; a man's man, who loved his woman. They stopped by the harbor and questioned the first two strangers they met: K'nuckles and Flapjack.

'Ho! Yon fellow strangers!'(Because that's the way heroes talk)

'Hello friend!'

'We're looking for our son, Flapjack.'

'I'm a Flapjack!'

'Tell me son, do you bear the gift?'

'What gift?'

'Why a blue and red sailor, of course! Any son of mine would know that.'

Without the proverbial mark, his father and mother turned their noses upward and set off once more.

And as Flapjack stared dumbly into the sea, the ship sailed away without a trace into the recesses of his mind.

Not that I want a family.

"What if I buy you some candy, huh? You'd like that?"

"Huh?"

"Candy Flap. Come on, only a bozo'd turn that down."

"I don't really feel like candy right now cap'n."

"What the hell'd that thing even mean, huh? Where'd you get it anyways?"

"I dunno."

"Well we're wasting daylight, boy, it's the Barrel or bust."

"I don't wanna go home." Flapjack looked up to K'nuckles with a quiet desperation that he couldn't ignore. Resignated to his hopes of getting any type of buzz, K'nuckles plopped flat fuck down next to Flap, his depression almost equaling the boy's.

"Jeez Flap, way to kill the mood. What's up with you? It ain't the toy, is it?"

"Not really."

"Well what then?"

"I dunno."

"Are we just gonna sit her all day!"

"You don't have to, cap'n." Flapjack said, quietly. His melancholy reached out to the captain and appealed to the minuscule amount of paternity in him. Not enough to take action, but enough to fend off the temptation to leave and take a well deserved nap in Bubby's mouth.

"Nah." he said. It's all he would say. But it was enough. He liked Flapjack, despite himself, and for some reason beyond him, felt responsible for the boy. In simple, instinctive ways. The way someone much older would someone much younger, and the way a friend cares for a friend. But they were more than that. He wouldn't go as far as to look at Flapjack as a son, or even a nephew...but a role like such wasn't far off. He cared for the boy enough to understand that he was a kid, and kids needed a special care-for. As disgusting as it was to K'nuckles, the vague words 'love' formed in his mind. Yeah, they needed a lotta love. And they made you love them. They produced the kind of relationships that made you realize profound truths about yourself and others, but moreover they demanded a strange kind of attachment, love, and respect that you can't find anywhere else. K'nuckles never asked of it, and he still didn't want it, but it was there...and he definitely appreciated it, to say the least. He knew Flap's basic story, unfortunate orphan, abandoned, raised by some whale, blah, blah, blah, and yeah he empathized (having somewhat of a sucky childhood himself), but the real sympathy came from one loner to another, a thief and a liar to a giver and a child. It was a unique find, but it was pure.

"You're gonna sit here with me?"

"Yup."

"And you're not gonna go to the Candy Barrel?"

"Nope." K'nuckles looked ahead to the blur of horizon that promised a storm.

"Even if it starts raining?"

"Looks like it."

Flapjack smiled to the captain, who looked on with a stoic disposition, almost annoyed, and hugged him. Flapjack had gained understanding of K'nuckles over the years. The fact that he was a dishonest, womanizing, swindling conartist had made itself apparent, but more than that he saw that that type of person was friends (and a selective picker her was) with him, Flapjack. That meant more to him, and drew much more respect than that of any hero or sailor with war stories. He valued K'nuckle's guidance and mentorship in a world where most looked down on him, ignored his presence. K'nuckles cut him slack when he needed it, and manned him up when he didn't. That'swhat mattered, and this realization blotted out the picture of the valiant ship sailing away on the horizon. K'nuckles felt Flapjack's prolonged stare, and slowly turned to look at the boy, who clung on to him.

"Ah, come on now boy, cut that out."

"I wuv wu captain K'nuckles!" he said, muffled by K'nuckles jacket. Moments passed in awkward silence, Flapjack staring up in anticipation to his captain. K'nuckles rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation.

"Yeah, you too kid."

"You what?" It was obvious that Flapjack's bouyant mood had returned, much to K'nuckles relief and annoyance.

"Mmphyu too." he mumbled.

"What was that, captain?"

"Ugh. Love you too, Flapjack." He tousled the boy's hair with a mild interest that begot Flapjack's signature shrill of a laugh. K'nuckles shuddered. "Come on Flapjack, lets go to the Candy Barrel now."

"Adventure!" Flapjack hopped up and ran circles around the captain as he rose.

"Yeah, yeah, an adventure. Calm down, K'nuckles got a headache." He swigged the remains of his syrup and tossed it into the sea.

"Flap, I gotta ask you something."

"Yeah cap?"

"What was that toy, and why'd you get all pissy over it?"

After careful thought, Flapjack said, "I've had it forever and was sad when I lost it." And that's the truth. Flapjack didn't have to lie (rather he refused, as a general rule) and just said the simplest explanation, which seemed to suffice K'nuckle's inquiry because for the rest of the trip, he was quiet.

They arrived at the Candy Barrel, dull and lifeless, but inviting and warm. They were used to its stale charm and eccentric inhabitants, mainly in part to their own stale routine and eccentricity. They sat at the bar and waited for Peppermint Larry to unearth from behind the bar much like a rag doll come to life, and on cue, after an impatient call from K'nuckles, he rose from the mahogany.

"Well heya fellas, what can I getcha?" He said with a happy, gay tenor, until he saw who his customers were. "Oh, you two. Lemme guess, you're just gonna sit there till closing and then leave without buying jacksquat?"

"Not today Peppermint Larry." K'nuckles said proudly, pulling a handful of coins to the bartop.

"Two please."

"Oh, high rollers, are we?"

"Yeah, yeah, ya jackass, just fill us up two mugs." K'nuckles put his head in his hand and turned towards Flapjack.

"Where'd you get the money, captain?"

"Eh, I get around. Don't ask so may questions boy. Ah, here we go." Larry slid two cold ones down the bar to K'nuckles and Flapjack, who awaited his captain to down both the mugs like usual. Instead, K'nuckles downed his own and pushed the other mug to Flapjack- the third miracle of the day.

"Really cap!"

"Yeah, sure, hurry up and drink it fore I change my mind."

"Thanks K'nuckles!" Flapjack held his trophy with both hands and carefully brought the rim to his lips.

"Come on kid! Chug the damn thing." He shoved the bottom upwards and drowned Flap in a slush of candy, even spilling some on his on his face and shirt.

"Blah!" Flapjack hacked and coughed, K'nuckles slapped him on the back as compensation.

"Ya done?"

"Well yeah."

"Alright well I spent all my money, now I think it's time for a good nap. Whaddya think Flap?" Flapjack smiled enthusiastically, not so much in excitement for a nap in the middle of the day (not two hours after waking from the last), but for K'nuckle's enthusiasm in spending time with Flapjack. The ship had completely disappeared into his mind as he walked off into mist towards his whale home, and although neither of them pictured each other as a perfect match for a family, that's what they were. A whale, a drunkard, and an orphan.


And for clarification, this isn't slash.

Constructive criticism desired. Complimentary reviews and/or flames welcome.