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Sarge knew that the jacket wasn’t supposed to mean anything anymore. Chomby wasn’t in it. Chomby was gone. He’d been gone for several months now… but Sarge still had trouble taking the jacket off.

There was a hope in the back of his mind that Chomby would just reappear in the mindscape and say: “Hey, I’m back Sarge, it’s nice to see you!”

But that didn’t happen the day after Chomby vanished, nor for the several months afterward. Why would it happen now?

Sarge sat at the edge of his bed. He looked down at the jacket. He could see many stains lining its fabric. He admittedly hadn’t washed it in months. He hadn’t even taken it off…. He couldn’t. No matter how much Sarge wanted to move on, he just felt so empty without Chomby there.

It was one thing to have a friend pass away, but having an actual part of your being willingly delete itself to save your life just made you feel hollow and empty. To Sarge, he lost both. He had to take a leave from the detective force. He needed time to process what he’d lost, but he kept imagining those nightmares. Those final moments continued to rack themselves against his brain, taunting him.

He closed his eyes. He’d usually try and contact Chomby at this point, imagining that mindscape the two shared. It was a silly concept, but Chomby being there made the world feel so vast and full. Sarge could spend hours just sitting in there, resting himself against Chomby and just talking.

But that world was empty now. It had nothing in it. Barren. Sarge’s perception of it changed its state. The infinite lights in the sky would flicker now, denoting the place was run-down. It obviously was, Sarge hadn’t taken care of it, let alone himself, for the past several months.

“Sarge, you need to gum up the courage.” He said to himself as he clenched a fist. “You’re not going to continue your life like this. You need to get back out there!”

Sarge looked over at his phone. He gently tapped the screen and saw he had a notification. It had been there for a week now. It was a link to a video that a friend put together for him. A video about all the times Chomby or Sarge appeared on TV after rescuing someone, or defeating a robber, or solving a crime. It was a video collection of all the things the two had done.

He watched that video several times now. Each time he finished, he would go back to the message and “set it as unread” so he could get notified of it again… and again. Because, at one particular point in the video, it was an interview.

Marry Tarol, the journalist of Eight Nights News, would be standing in front of the remains of a burning building. Right behind her was Chomby. The stark difference between the black-haired, fair-skinned woman and the black-and-green furred soundbyte always looked so silly to Sarge… but it would always make his heart melt.

“I am joined by the town’s local music producer, Chomby, who was here on the scene during the apartment’s collapse. Now, Chomby, eyewitnesses on-scene reported that you went into that apartment building and saved the lives of several families. What possessed you to do something as dangerous as you did?”

Chomby would look dead into the camera. His expression was always angry, but Sarge knew he was trying his hardest to smile. “A voice in my head was telling me, ‘I need to save them, because I can.’”

Sarge remembered that moment in particular. Before the cameras started rolling, Chomby asked out loud, “What am I supposed to say, Sarge?” The crew was confused by his statement and assumed he was asking them what to say. While they were telling him to just speak his mind, he was hearing another voice, Sarge’s.

When Chomby was in control, he would be able to communicate with Sarge through the headphones that were plastered to his head. The two found this out a few months before the incident. This allowed for Chomby, the brawn, the act reasonably with Sarge, the smarts, guiding him. Though Sarge couldn’t really do anything outside of being a disembodied voice when this happened, he was able to moderately see what Chomby saw. The only problem was this took a lot of Chomby’s energy to do, so they only did it in situations where it was crucial they communicate.

“Just remember to be calm. Explain the details you can remember. Any obstacles, any split-second decisions, your plans. If you need me to, I can help feed you some words, but just do your best!” Sarge had replied through the headphones.

And then Chomby would talk to the journalists. It was just a segment for his 15 minutes of fame, but he started appearing on the news enough to garner fans who enjoyed his musical work and his humanitarian efforts. That’s what the rest of the videos showed.

But Sarge would always pause the video when Chomby looked at the camera and said, “My friend Sarge, love him to death-” Pause. Sarge had grown used to when to pause the video, as at this exact moment, he could see the sliver of a smile on the soundbyte’s face. It was only because of how he talked at that exact moment, but the smile and him looking at the camera would always make Sarge cry.

The last words he said to Sarge weren’t even words. Chomby couldn’t talk when his body started to disappear, but his mouth smiled, and with his dying breath he said-

Sarge felt himself shudder. He began to sob. “I love you too, Chomby.” Saying these words to himself, Sarge grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pulled his right arm out. He felt his heart lurch as he grabbed the left sleeve and began to pull it out, too.

He could feel the mindscape in his head begin to fade as those words echoed around in there. “I love you too, Chomby,” they said. “I love you too, Chomby,” they said again, but quieter this time. “I love you too, Chomby,” they said again, but merely a faint whisper. “I love you too, Sarge…”

Sarge froze. He tried to process that last echo. That was abnormal. It sounded like his voice, but it didn’t match the other echoes. For as long as his mindscape had been around, any sort of echo he imagined in there would echo itself over and over again… but that echo just said ‘Sarge’.

Looking back down at his doffed sleeve, Sarge shoved his arm back into it and closed his eyes, imagining his mindscape.
He could see the teal colored sky flickering in an out, neglected like an overused, not-properly-maintained neon sign.

He spun around rapidly, and yelled out, “Hello?!” His voice echoed again. “Hello? Hello? Hello? Hi!”

There it was. His fourth echo. Like the last phrase, the fourth echo seemed to be different. “Anyone there?”

“Anyone there? Anyone there? Anyone there? Are you there?”

Sarge felt his heart flutter. This was unusual. He felt his breath catch as he tried to sound out the words he’d repeated to himself many months ago. Seeing Chomby disappear only left him saying Chomby’s name for an entire day. He screamed at the top of his imagined lungs, causing the area to boom with its sound. “CHOMBY?!”

“Chomby? Chomby? Chomby? Chomby?”

The fourth echo… was the same as the others that time.

“Hello?” Sarge called again.

“Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?”

“I’m imagining things….” Sarge gritted his teeth. He felt his heart sink again. He turned around to try and get one last look at this mindscape before finally taking off his jacket, but then he saw something. A familiar, green and black creature stood around six yards away. They were standing there, silently staring at him.

“Wha-” Sarge couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was it his own delusion? He opened his eyes, forcing himself out of the mindscape. He was still in his bedroom. Everything looked the same.

He closed his eyes again, now back in the mindscape. The figure was gone this time. He started to spin around, seeing if they were somewhere else. He became dizzy one he made a full rotation and immediately felt himself fall backward. He expected his imaginary self would hit the ground, but to his surprise, his head landed on something soft.

Surprised, he jolted to his feet and spun around. His eyes widened. He felt his lip begin to quiver and his hands started to shake.

It was Chomby. At least, it looked like Chomby. Its eyes were completely black with no green glow inside of them. While Chomby had a rather large belly, this creature looked malnourished and thin. The usual glow on its body was dim, but it had the familiar Fluffmaster logo on its belly that Sarge recognized.

“Chomby?” Sarge choked out. “Is… is that you?”

The figure’s movement was slow as it looked down. It seemed to have trouble moving. “I… think?” It asked. “Where am I?”

“Our… mindscape.” Sarge wanted so desperately to rush into Chomby’s arms, but his gut was telling him to be cautious. “Don’t you remember?”

“Vaguely,” Chomby said. “I… remember… so little.” Chomby looked back up at Sarge. “Yet I remember seeing you, and me, and us. These memories are… disjointed. But I remember you, Sarge.” The figure held up its arms. “Hi. Sarge. I’m here.”

Sarge cupped a hand to his mouth. He couldn’t hold back anymore and immediately threw himself into Chomby’s arms. “Chomby! Oh thank God, Chomby! You’re here! You’re alive!”

“I am?” Chomby asked as his arms slowly wrapped around Sarge. Sarge could feel that Chomby’s grip was weak.

“How are you here?! I… I…” Sarge tightened his grip as he fell into sobs. “You died! You saved my life but you vanished before my eyes!”

“I… remember.” Chomby said. Sarge could feel Chomby’s hands release from his back and then press against his chest. He knew Chomby wasn’t strong right now, so Sarge stepped back to give Chomby space. “I pressed a button. Everything hurt. You were… crying…” Chomby stopped and stared at Sarge. A Green light flickered in his eyes and a pair of bright, glowing green pupils appeared. “Sarge… you’re… you’re crying!”

“Who cares?!” Sarge asked, wagging his tail wildly. “Chomby! I can’t believe it! You’re alive! You’re here! I just… I just…. Chomby, I’m so relieved! I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t do anything when you left!”

“Oh,” Chomby said. His movements were getting faster as he looked down at his hands. He clenched his fists and released them. “I am so… small.”

“But you’re here! Chomby! You’re…” Sarge held his arms out. “Sorry, can I… hug you again?”

Chomby looked up, seeming a bit confused. His angered expression seemed to lighten a little. This usually meant he was trying to smile. “Of course, Sarge. You know you never have to ask me for a hug. I’ll always give you one.”

Ecstatic, Sarge jumped back to Chomby and gave him a tight hug. “I missed you, Chomby! It was so hard to move on! I almost gave up on you coming back, but here you are!”

“But how am I here?” Chomby asked.

“I literally just asked you that. I don’t know, Chomby! I really don’t, but I don’t care.”

“I removed myself from the jacket… and I just…” Chomby placed his hands back on Sarge and gave him a tight hug. “I heard your voice. I don’t know how many times I heard it, but I could. I listened to it. The times you cried, the people you talked to. The videos you watched. I remember hearing those now…. It’s all I could do. I didn’t have any body part to move, so I just listened. I felt like I was nothing.”

Sarge didn’t want to let go of Chomby, but his mind began to race. He learned from Chomby that soundbytes usually ate music. The better the song, the more the soundbyte would be able to eat. If they ate too much they would get fatter. Soundbytes were known for being larger-framed. Before Chomby sacrificed himself, Chomby was rather large, but now...

Sarge looked down. Chomby’s belly was small, even for soundbyte standards. They would usually sport a belly that a human would consider as “overweight”, but Chomby was basically skin and bone.

“You… you look hungry!” Sarge said, gasping in realization. He thought for a moment before he looked down at his own belly. It was large for certain. Ever since he donned Chomby’s jacket and the two formed a bond, Chomby had been able to use Sarge’s body to store ‘music’ for himself. This, in turn, made Sarge’s weight go up substantially, but since Chomby passed away, Sarge hadn’t been able to remove this weight, as he had no capability of “burning off music”. “Wait! I have an idea! Chomby, you can take my music storage!”

Sarge opened up his eyes. And stood up from his bed. With a practiced hand, he fastened and zipped his hoodie in one fluid motion. He then reached for his hood and pulled it down over his eyes.

Nothing happened. Sarge felt a pang of disdain as he was about to lift up the hood, but it got caught on his eyes. Attempting to pull it off only felt like he was pulling his face. He stopped, realizing that this was just like the first time he’d done this with the jacket. It wrapped itself around him and almost felt like it was trying to choke him. But for each second that passed, the feelings would progressively become more like he was filling the jacket out. His body slowly expanded and his vision would start to come back to him… but they weren’t his eyes anymore. This was no longer his body.

He could feel his body become shaky. His eyes looked down, supposedly on their own, to see a green-colored torso that matched the color of Sarge’s jacket… but also the color of Chomby’s belly. His arms lifted up to his vision, and he could see his hands had completely changed. Instead of the gray and cream fur he was used to, his hands were now covered in a jet-black fur with bright green fingers and dark green palms.

Sarge attempted to blurt out in excitement, but his voice didn’t work. This was Chomby’s body, now.

Chomby shakily made his way to the bathroom. He managed to turn on the light and get to the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror. He certainly looked malnourished, but he could feel a large amount of musical storage he’d placed in Sarge.

“You sure I can take your storage, Sarge?” Chomby coughed out. “You’ll probably lose a lot of weight.”

“Yes, please! Chomby! Take it! You need it! Get your strength back,” Chomby’s headphones rang out.

Sighing, Chomby closed his eyes and focused on the storage. He could feel the copious amounts of songs he’d collected flow into his body and resting inside of his belly. He saw it slowly begin to expand outward as he began to remember all the different songs he’d accumulated over the years. Songs, memories, and many more things he couldn’t quite understand flooded into him. It took several minutes, but by the time it was finished, Chomby felt like he had a lot more energy now. He looked back down at his hands and saw that his glow was now stronger. He also felt like he could talk properly now. “I’m feeling… so much better now, Sarge, thanks!”

Chomby closed his eyes, reappearing in the mindscape. He saw Sarge standing in front of him, a lot slimmer than he had been moments ago. “Sarge I… I…”

Sarge’s eyes lit up and his tail began to wag.

Chomby felt tears come to his eyes as he lunged forward and picked Sarge up in a stronger hug than he could do before. “I am so sorry, Sarge! You were so heartbroken… and torn.” Chomby released Sarge, now placing a hand on his cheek. “I feel your heartache, Sarge…. I shouldn’t have made you lose another friend. I shouldn’t have…”

“Shut up,” Sarge said, pulling his head into Chomby’s chest. Chomby could see Sarge’s tail was wagging furiously. “Shut up and let me be happy.” Sarge’s muffled-voice called.

Chomby held the embrace for a long time. His mind was still racing with all the different things that happened. The last thing he could remember actually doing, that he didn’t absorb through the storage he placed in Sarge, was fighting a robot… and then crushing a computer… and then dying. That part was pretty traumatic.

“What… happened to the robot uprising?” Chomby asked.

Sarge lifted a hand and shoved it to Chomby’s lips. “SHUSH! Talk later. Hug now.”

Chomby felt his lip curl slightly. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but he knew it was close enough. “I missed you.”

The two held the embrace for a long time. He estimated it was ten minutes. Though he knew his body outside the mindscape was just standing outside the bathroom. So, with his eyes still closed and focused on Sarge, he felt his way back to the bedroom and rested his body on the bed.

His breathing felt stable, but his body certainly ached. Though he didn’t understand how he came back, he figured it must have taken a large toll on him. He’d probably need to recover for a good while before he was fit enough to do anything.

The morning passed into the afternoon. The time limit the two had created to avoid any complications came up, so Chomby grabbed the zipper on his neck and tugged it down, releasing the transformation and having Sarge take control of his body again.

Sarge went immediately to the bathroom. He had a lot more energy now, so he told Chomby he was going to take a shower, doffed the jacket, and hopped in. Once he finished cleaning himself, he put the jacket on and said he needed to clean it. Chomby agreed, remembering that Sarge would usually clean the jacket by hand to avoid it ripping or tearing… though it never seemed to tear. They both joked that the jacket was indestructible, but neither wanted to try and prove it, so they never actually knew.

Once Sarge and the jacket were properly cleaned, Sarge donned the jacket and went back to the bedroom. He changed his bed sheets and then laid himself on top, glad to have finally changed them after several months.

He closed his eyes again so he could immediately talk to Chomby some more. The two talked and Sarge explained everything that happened while Chomby was gone, all the way down to Chomby’s friend, Squandered, learning about their secret.

Chomby listened patiently to all that Sarge had to say. The more Sarge talked, the more Chomby seemed to remember, even though he wasn’t actively there for any of it. He began to think that the jacket still picked up information whenever it was worn, even if Chomby wasn’t there. Since Sarge hadn’t taken it off for months, it had a lot of information to absorb.

When Sarge finished talking, Chomby began to ask questions of his own. He asked about his DJ business, his friendship with Squandered, the detective agency the two worked for, and Sarge’s friends. To his delight, Sarge said that they were all doing well. The DJ business was on hold, though. People thought Chomby just went missing and didn’t actually die, so it just became a strange phenomenon on any social media platform it was mentioned.

The two continued talking for several more hours before Sarge began to feel tired. “You probably want to do stuff around the house and whatnot, too. Your phone is in the cupboard. Sorry, it’s out of juice, but you can charge it if you’d like!” Sarge said, opening his eyes and zipping up the jacket to shift into Chomby.

“Thanks, Sarge… and again, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Sarge replied through the headphones. “You did exactly what you said. You made a logical choice and chose to remove yourself from the jacket to save my life.”

“But you were hurt because of me,” Chomby looked down at the werewolf, now resting on his lap. “You told me it was too dangerous to take out the robot, and you were right. I was too stubborn to realize that-”

“Occupational hazard, right?” Sarge asked. “Comes with the territory of ‘crime fighting detective’.” Sarge nestled his head into Chomby’s lap a bit more. “I’m not a big fan of it, but I guess we can chock this up as a ‘last resort’ method in case something like this happens again. It’s kinda similar to my regeneration.” Sarge poked at his belly, which was barely more than a bump that poked out of his overly-saggy shirt. “Maybe this is how you regenerate. Maybe that whole ‘unplugging yourself’ was just a way to reset you and… probably put you in a sleep mode until you passively regained enough music to function again.”

“That’s a lot of assumptions, Sarge.” Chomby said. “How do you even know that’s really the case?”

“I don’t, but it’s all the information I have.” Sarge looked up at Chomby. “Which leads me to what we should do tomorrow.”

“What’s up?” Chomby asked.

“I feel it’s about time we figured out how you came to be.” Sarge said, locking his eyes with Chomby’s.

“Did you ask the company that made the jacket?” Chomby asked.

“Yes. They offered a replacement, but they didn’t understand when I told them the jacket turned me into a soundbyte.” Sarge sighed. “I don’t think they even know this thing is capable of doing that. I don’t think it was intended to.”

“Well, you are… er… were… one of the ace detectives in the squad.” Chomby teased. “I’m sure you can figure something out. Though, keep it simple for now. I don’t think I’m quite strong enough to fight yet.” Chomby gritted his teeth. “If another one of those robots shoots off an EMP I won’t be able to-”

“NO!” Sarge said, immediately sitting up. He turned around and faced Chomby. “Don’t you DARE try and take one of those things on again!”

Sarge’s vehemency was enough to let Chomby know. Sarge was still hurting. Chomby needed to reassure him. “Sarge, I-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Sarge looked away and rubbed his arm. “You broke the computer that was producing those robots. The production line fell, all the robots were scrapped. We saved the world, Chomby.” Sarge looked back at Chomby. “YOU saved the world, Chomby… and we were going to die. It was going to be a sacrifice of us both, but you shouldered it all on yourself without letting me say anything.”

“Sarge…”

“I lost you, Chomby. You were my closest friend. So seeing you vanish. Seeing your body tear itself apart traumatized me.” Sarge gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes shut. Chomby knew Sarge was quite an emotional werewolf, but he knew this moment was bound to come. “I’m still having trouble believing you’re back!”

“I know,” Chomby nodded. “When the computer told me that we were going to die, I immediately couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” Chomby put a hand to his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re so kind, and generous, and thoughtful, and imagining you suffering like that was too much to bear. Do you know… how hard it was to make that choice? I felt our body hit the ground and stop moving. We were seconds away from death.”

“But it still hurt, Chomby.” Sarge sobbed. “I lost another friend. I’ve already lost so many. But not only that, I lost a friend in a situation where I felt powerless. I couldn’t find out a solution. That EMP was… not normal. It messed with you, somehow, a sentient jacket. You aren’t electronic, you aren’t even a machine! You’re literally just a ninety-five to five, polyester, spandex blend jacket that I designed and bought off of some random site in a foreign country!”

“Is that what you see me as?” Chomby asked.

“You already know the answer to that!” Sarge hissed. “You were my best friend!”

“Why do you keep saying ‘were’?” Chomby asked.

Sarge opened his mouth. He was about to say something, then turned away. “Because you died. I’ve gotten used to saying ‘you were’ and not ‘you are’.”

“Has it changed since we last spoke?” Chomby asked.

“No.” Sarge shook his head vigorously. “I just….” He scowled. “I don’t know how to process any of this… and, quite frankly, you’re the only person I can talk to about this.”

“What about Squandered? Didn’t you tell him that you and I were the same?”

“Yes, I did… but that’s another problem for another day.” Sarge frowned. “He was devastated to hear you died… and to hear that he was dating your room mate, unknowingly, the entire time.”

“It wasn’t dating.” Chomby attempted his smile and shook his head. “Lovable goofball. Remember the time when he tried to surprise me for Valentine’s Day?”

Sarge paused for a moment before spurting out in laughter. “Oh yeah! And he had that bicycle pump!” Sarge nodded. “He clung to you for so long, I was worried we wouldn’t be able to switch in time to reset our timer.”

“Yeah,” Chomby chuckled. “He’s very sweet like that.”

“You like him?” Sarge asked.

“Yeah. I suppose, if I actually had my own body, I’d probably take him up on that offer of a ‘bellymance’.”

“Bellymance?” Sarge asked. “You never actually explained what that meant to me.”

“It’s like a bromance but involves liking bellies.” Chomby rolled his eyes. “A soundbyte thing, I guess? I don’t really know.” Chomby looked down at himself and patted his belly. “I’m not really a real soundbyte though… at least to the standards of ‘I am an article of clothing’.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why does that matter?” Sarge asked. “That hasn’t gotten you so glum before.”

“It has, but I didn’t know you well enough back then.” Chomby laid himself down. As per routine, Sarge shifted himself over and laid his head on Chomby’s belly. “I’m just a jacket. I don’t know why or how I came to be. There’s gotta be an explanation.”

“It’s definitely on both our minds now,” Sarge nodded. “I tried desperately for months to find out how you were made, but there’s no documented cases of this ever happening… so I couldn’t bring you back.”

“But you did,” Chomby stated. “I’m back here now.”

“How?” Sarge asked.
Chomby looked up at the mindscape. He could see the lights of the sky were still flickering. He wanted to think more on this matter, but he knew he was running out of time that he could get things done around the house. He’d spent most of his time just talking with Sarge as he lay on the bed. “I don’t know. But, like you said, I suppose we better find out.”

~~~~~

If you didn't read the previous story, here it is: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/55828537/ This current story comes after the previous.

For some reason, I couldn't just stop at the end of that story. My mind came up with so many ideas that I just had to continue... and this is what I came up with -- a continued epilogue from A Farewell Brief. It's a bit more light-hearted, but also kinda allows for Farewell Brief to be canon but also allow the story to continue. Because, admittedly, I loved that story too much to have it not be canon. SO, that's kinda where I'm going as I continue to learn how this story goes!

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Chomby/Sarge/Story/Art ©  pikminpedia Me

Cameo of  squanderedmilk that alluded to the Valentine's Picture.