Chapter Text
"I need to go take care of something, watch my little one for me! Good luck!"
"Hey, wait, what?! I don't-..."
Rocky sat completely still, blissfully unaware of everything happening around him, as he usually did. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Clock, while annoyed, could at least acknowledge that taking care of Rocky would likely be a walk in the park.
And then, right as he turned away, he heard little footsteps. Quickly getting quieter.
By the time Clock turned around, Rocky was gone.
"Wha- how do I explain this to Balloony?! Of course that rock is only fast when it's inconvenient!" He quickly ran in several directions, trying to find the object who had unexpectedly been left in his care.
Suddenly, he was forced to a halt as something clamped down on his leg, causing him to fall face-first onto the ground. Due to lacking arms, Clock couldn't push himself up. However, even if he did, it likely wouldn't matter, as it seemed he was being dragged away by his attacker.
"Hey! Stop! Let me go!" Clock shouted in a panic, feeling completely defenseless.
Eventually, he got stuck, though he couldn't see what he was stuck on. Nonetheless, this did not seem to stop his persistent foe, who simply pulled harder on his leg. The force was soon too much, and then it happened. Searing pain shot through Clock's body as if he had been struck by lightning. The animalistic growls he had been hearing the entire time were soon replaced with a sickening crunch, and then footsteps, getting quieter.
Small footsteps. Familiar footsteps.
After a while of struggling to turn his face away from the ground, Clock also noticed something peculiar. As well as a quickly expanding pool of blood from his leg, which seemed to have been ripped off and eaten, there were also droplets of a purple substance.
"Is that... drool? But no one I know has drool like that... except for..."
"Oh no."
"I SWEAR, IT WAS HIM!!"
Rocky hid behind his father for comfort, who could only try to act appalled.
"A-are you sure it was him? My sweet little one wouldn't hurt a fly!" The expression on Balloony's face made it clear he was hiding something. Not just from Clock, but from his own son as well.
"Who else do you know that has purple spit?!" The shorter object was beginning to grow impatient with his peer, no longer buying his clear lies and manipulation.
"I-I mean, you said it felt sharp! Rocky- well- you've seen his face before! You know he doesn't have fangs or anything like that!"
"Bulleh!"
Rocky vomited on the ground in front of Clock, and sure enough, his mouth contained sharp teeth. Teeth that weren't there a few weeks ago. It wasn't long before Rocky's father picked him up and ran away, no longer confident enough to lie about the situation. Not to Clock, not to his older sons, and... not to Rocky.