Clownzy Oneshots

Flown Away

A/N: It's been a bit. It will be a bit until the next upload after this. Oh well, it will always come eventually. Someone on Ao3 asked for fluffy angst, and this is the closest idea I had. Thank you to @Questionable_422 for being my beta reader! 

Word Count: 4.5k (new record!!)

(btw, Gibby is pronounced phonetically and Tamu is pronounce "Tam-oo")

Rek had arrived at his brother's base, mentally prepared to have to deal with Branzy and Clown's chaotic child. He had volunteered to babysit Gibby after helping her out with arts and crafts, glad to be able to help out the two struggling parents. Knocking on the door lightly, the man shifted back and forth on his feet from the cold dampness of the cave where the base was located. Because of the fact the two had another base in the mountains, he wasn't actually sure he was at the right base until the door swung open.

     He was greeted by a very tired looking Branzy, who cracked a smile and waved his brother in. "Hey man, how's it going?"

     "Pretty good," Rek answered. It was much warmer inside the base, he noticed with relief. "Apparently Gibby needs help with crafting?"

     "Yeah, she's making gifts for us so she won't let us help, but we won't let her use the crafting stuff unsupervised," Branzy explained.

     "Ah okay," he said, taking off his boots.

     He left them by the door as the two men made their way into the living room. The other two members of the household were there, Clown half asleep on the sofa and Gibby practically shivering with energy as she bounced up and down on the recliner chair. When she saw Rek her face lit up, and she jumped off the chair and ran up to him.

     "Uncle Whek!" The six year old exclaimed, tackling him into a brief hug.

     "Hey Gibby," he said, ruffling her messy shoulder-length brown hair.

     "Is it true you're gonna babysit me?" She asked urgently, as if unsure of the reliability of the information.

     He chuckled a little and responded, "Yeah, why wouldn't it be true?"

     "I dunno," was her answer. She looked a bit sheepish at doubting the fact, before perking up and asking, "Will you help me with some crafting? I wanna make a surprise for my dads but they won't let me use the crafting room alone."

     "Sure," Rek agreed. "So what are we gonna be making?"

     Gibby glared at him, making a gesture at her two parents.

     "Oh right, surprise," he said with a little bit of guilt, somehow forgetting the two the surprise was for were literally still in the room.

     Branzy laughed at him tiredly before asking, "You know where the crafting room is, right?"

     Rek was about to respond with the affirmative, but Gibby cut in with all the conversation skills of the six-year old she was. "I know where it is!" She exclaimed, tugging at one of Rek's hands with all seven of her remaining fingers. "I'll show you!"

     "Alright," the man accepted, despite already knowing where it was.

     He let Gibby tug him out of the room, Branzy calling after them, "Don't let her use any of the tools." Rek gave him a thumbs up with his free hand before the uncle and niece disappeared from the doorframe.

     Once he was sure they were out of earshot of the married couple, Rek asked again, "What do you want to make?"

     "I'm gonna make my dads wings!" She exclaimed as they entered the crafting room, gesturing wildly to the pile of feathers amassed in the corner.