Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Money is a fickle mistress that slips through hands like the grains of sand in an hourglass. It made the globe go about in such a way that it almost seemed like an injustice to the world itself. It's how goods and services can be exchanged in a community. Money allows people to buy and receive things and experiences that make them happy. And, of course money let's a monster can afford to keep a roof over his furry, little, blue head.

Grover knew it wasn't the easiest thing to acquire. His employment history was a patchwork of incidents that always resulted in his termination; he never set out to do anything terrible, it was just that collateral damage followed him wherever he went. If it weren't him or somebody else getting injured on the job, it was the fact that the place was always in shambles by the end of all of his shifts. Even though the grin on his face remained bright and cheery, all of his failures continued to weigh on him heavily. He couldn't afford to have opportunity after opportunity slip through his grasp; he just an unlucky monster in a big world that set out to stop him in every way it could. Whether it was accidentally taking a passenger to the wrong location or serving someone the wrong meal, misfortune simply followed Grover wherever he worked.

Perhaps that's why he was more excited that usual for his latest job. Even though his newest workplace was in the secluded, shady part of the neighborhood, all he could see were the bright job prospects it had inside. It didn’t involve much technical work or guessing, and he could still happily provide a service to everyone who wanted or needed it. What more could a monster ask for?

With each faded brick on the wall he passed by, Grover's nerves became increasingly jittery; there was a creepy atmosphere in the building that Grover couldn't exactly describe. It wasn't like the Count's castle where cobwebs covered every open corner, and chandeliers grace the ceiling. Rather, it seemed like nobody was supposed to be there, or that it's business was too unassuming. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him to be in there; if anything, he was more nervous about his upcoming first day of work.

Grover's eyes glanced over at the man who walked next to him. "Lefty", as he preferred to be called, remained cool and collected. His eyes were only half-visible from the shadows of his hat, and his beige trenchcoat stiffly moved against his legs as he walked. His skin was a cold shade green like the inside of a cucumber, and an unmoving scowl resided on his face. Lefty looked intimidating, but Grover sensed an air of reputability around him; after all, that man was the one who recruited him into the business.

As they neared a desk with a chair facing away from them, the two of them came to a halt. While Grover's eyes darted around the room in search of their boss, Lefty only stared straight ahead. A subtle, creaking noise filled the room as the chair – and the man in it – swiveled around to greet them.

"Did you get the new recruit?" The man in the chair asked. His voice came out like a gritty whisper; low in profile, and secretive in nature.

"I have, Mike," Lefty nodded as he slowly gestured his arm towards Grover.

"Nice work…"

Grover got a better look at his boss. "Mike" wore a dark suit with black pinstripes, and his face was round and blue. His eyes were covered by a similar hat to Lefty's, and a white rabbit resided on his lap with a carrot near its mouth. Somehow, even the bunny managed to come off as menacing, especially against the dark appearance of its owner.

"And I am--" Grover struggled to introduce himself. "Well, I am-- …It is your furry old pal, Grover."

"Never heard of him," Mike muttered back.

"You'll have to forgive our friend," Lefty slid over towards his boss. Similar to Mike, his own voice was whispery as well; albeit, less gritty and more nasal, "He's new on the job, and hasn't figured out the right way to act yet."

Grover let out sigh of relief. He was glad Lefty was there to look out for him; who knows how that meeting would have went if he wasn't there? He could have lost his job just as quickly as he went in!

“Anyways, it is very nice to meet you, Mike, sir!” Grover cheerfully continued. “I will do my absolute best not to disappoint you!”

“You’ll need to convince me that’s the case then,” Mike continued to sit with the rabbit in his lap. “For example… I have a very important job for you two.”

The boss lifted the rabbit off of his lap, and placed it down on the floor. As it hopped over to an open hutch at the corner of the room, Mike walked back to his desk, and opened the drawer underneath towards himself. His hands lifted out a few plastic bags, all of which he moved to the top of it for both Grover and Lefty to see. “I've received a supply of our latest product from some friends of mine."

"Interesting..." Lefty leaned in and got a closer look at what Mike left out for him. All of the bags were filled with small, circular tablets that had the letter S engraved on their front sides.

"This is… Candy," Lefty observed, with a pause toward the end as though he weren't sure what to call it. Grover thought that he saw Lefty squint at him as he said that, but he wasn’t entirely sure. (In fact, he wasn’t even sure what was on the table.)

"It sure is," Mike agreed. "And I want you two to sell it to everyone on the street. It's a great way to make us lots of bank."

"We are selling candy tomorrow?" Grover's eyes lit up. "That is amazing! I can not wait--"

Grover's enthusiasm screeched to a stop as he looked away from the tablets on the desk and at Lefty again. His coworker remained emotionless to the news.

"How come you are not excited?" Grover asked. "We are going to be selling candy to everyone on Sesame Street! Is it not going to be fun? Everyone is going to be so happy when they get a chance to--"

"I'm excited; just on the inside," Lefty replied. "Let's just say this isn't my first time being the neighborhood candy man…"

Grover sighed and looked back at the candy again. Even though it was his first time ever seeing it, he had to wonder if the novelty of it worn off for Lefty a long time ago.

"Thank you, boss," Lefty picked up the bags and snuck them one by one into his coat. "Me and my associate here will be taking them back with us to the street. We'd like to get a head-start; right, Grover?"

"That is right!" Grover nodded along as he followed Lefty towards the exit.

"Well, in that case it better pay off..." Mike grumbled, "I don't want you guys losing even the smallest piece of it without profit."

"Riiiiight," Lefty replied on the way out.

The conversation came to an end as Lefty closed the door behind him and Grover. There was a sense of comradery between them as they strolled silently through the alley-like passage and into the adjoining (actual alley it was related to. Grover was looking forward to starting his new job; Lefty was going to teach him the ropes, and he couldn't wait to get one that he couldn't easily mess up. Although it was going take some practice to catch up with his coworker's stuck demeanor, Grover had enough faith in himself that he could get by on his own, lovable charms.

After all, who wouldn't want to buy candy from an adorable, hard-working monster?

Eventually, the two of them arrived at the more recognizable edge of the neighborhood as they arrived near the staircase of 123 Sesame Street. As Grover started to climb the staircase back to his apartment there, Lefty followed him up with one last thing to say;

"We'll meet at this spot tomorrow. Remember to be here, 11:30 sharp. Got it?"

"Why yes, I have got it!" Grover chirped back.

Lefty walked away without saying another word to Grover. He had to admit that his coworker's way of saying farewell was weird; he didn't say "goodbye" or anything! Needless to say, it was something that he'd certainly have to get used to Regardless, a smile grew across Grover's face; things were finally turning up for him again, so why worry about the small stuff? After all, what Lefty does and how he composes himself isn't his business…

…The candy was going to be his business.

Chapter Text

The stairs of 123 Sesame Street seemed a lot steeper than normal.

Grover adjusted the magenta ascot tie around his neck as he stood in the middle of the apartment complex’s stoop. The gray trench-coat he wore over it felt bulky, and the trilby hat he wore on his head kept the bright morning sunlight out of his eyes. It was the start of a new day, and with that new day came the start of his new job; that was enough to make anyone feel somewhat anxious, and he was no exception. He wanted to do the right thing, especially when it came to his performance and making his new boss proud. As he hopped of the porch’s last stair, a familiar face that he was excited to see was nearby.

“Leftyyyy!” Grover reached over to greet his coworker with a pat on the back. Just as it seemed like he was about to reach him, Lefty swerved out of the way.

“Sssh!” Lefty whispered, barely moving his mouth when he did so.

“Oh, oh, I am so sorry,” Grover turned quiet. He realized that he might have came off too strong towards his new co-worker. “I just feel so happy to be working alongside you! It is--”

“Don’t get too excited,” Lefty lowered his eyelids.

“Oh, yeah. Riiiight,” Even the way he talked was beginning to rub off onto Grover.

"Anyways… Nice threads you got there," Lefty looked down at his coworker's uniform. "Really brings out you hardworkin' side."

"Why thank you, sir," Grover replied. "These are the finest, cute, little tie and coat set I could find. Surely they make me look professional, do they not?"

Grover's cheery grin faded as the silence between them grew. He was surprised that Lefty didn't even bother to say "you're welcome" back him. It's generally considered nice manners to do that. Instead, he seemed… Preoccupied. Lefty's gaze remained focused on the street in front of him. Kids and adults, monsters and humans, fuzz and flesh; all of it filled the streets with joy and laughter. Both of their jobs required the two of them to keep low profiles, yet the sheer amount of activity in the neighborhood that day made it seemingly impossible to do so.

Grover watched as his co-worker shivered slightly. He wasn't sure if there was a chill in the air, but something made Lefty wrap his trench-coat around himself tighter. It was never buttoned up, and he typically just held onto its open sides.

"…Here's what ya need to do," Lefty turned towards Grover. "First, you'll need to hide the candy in your coat."

Lefty moved his arm over to the long flaps of his coat and held one of them open. With his other hand, he gestured to the way he stored everything inside of it. The same bags Grover saw the night before were lined up nicely against its plain lining, ready for him to show it off and sell it to everyone.

"That is an odd way of doing it, is it not?" Grover tilted his head. "Would you not want to show people the candy you are selling? Would you not want to put it on a cute, little display for everyone to see?"

"That's the exact opposite of what we're supposed to do…" Lefty closed his jacket defensively.

"Really?"

"You'll understand when you start sellin' it."

"How come? It is candy; it is not supposed to be a secret…"

"It's not a secret; you just gotta be… Selective of who you're selling it too," Lefty explained as he dug through his coat. "Not every customer appreciates every product. If you show somebody who ain't interested, all you're gonna do is waste your own time."

"Oh, so that is how it works?"

"Riiiight," Lefty pulled multiple bags out and handed them to Grover. It was difficult for him to pin the bags onto his coat while he was moving, but with a small rest break -and a little bit of Lefty's help- he was able to do it.

It wasn't long after that when the two salesmen took a moment to pause, and observed their surroundings again. Sesame Street had become quieter after their conversation; enough time had passed that everyone else went to the nearby business, their apartments, or to simply hang out in the arbor. Sure, one or two people were walking around at any given moment, but that only gave Lefty and Grover something to consider as they thought about what to do next.

"Listen, bud, how about I do a little sales demonstration for ya," Lefty stepped away from Grover and looked out towards the street. "We just need to find a nice fellow who would be interested in helpin' someone out."

Almost as though fate itself was intervening, one of Grover's friends was walking down the street at that very moment; an orange guy in a horizontally striped shirt. As he hummed a little tune and swayed from side to side as he walked, the two salesmen watched him intently.

"That guy over there looks like just the guy we need," Lefty turned back towards Grover.

"Ernie? Yes, he is great."

"He'll be a great customer alright," Lefty began to head across the street. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind helpin' a bud out with his first sales lesson."

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh--"

"Ssssh..." Lefty whispered. "Just watch me and follow my lead later. This is how you win over customers."

Each step that Lefty took towards his customer was just as quick and calculated as he was; he was a man on a mission, and that mission was to teach Grover the ropes of his new job. (And, of course, to sell some candies as well.)

"Hey, bud," Lefty leaned against a nearby wall. "C'mere."

"Who?" Ernie walked over to where Lefty was standing. "Me?"

"Sssh!"

Ernie cowered from the sudden noise; surprisingly, Lefty's attempt to silence him was louder than the actual volume of his own voice.

"Me?" Ernie repeated, this time more quietly.

"Riiiight."

Lefty’s grip on the side of his jacket tightened, “You seem like you could use a nice treat today…”

“I could?”

“Yeah...”

“What do you have?” Ernie leaned closer to Lefty.

The salesman rummaged through his coat and pulled out a bag like the ones he gave Grover earlier. “Candy.”

“Candy? What kind of candy is that?” Ernie asked.

“The good stuff,” Lefty answered. “After you have a few of these, every other kind of sweets will pale in comparison.”

“Really?” Ernie looked closer at the bag in Lefty's hand. “I see that they’ve got the letter S on them. Does that stand for ‘sweet’?”

“Riiiight,” Lefty nodded. “They’re both sweet, and sour. You get two delicious S flavors for the price of one.”

“Does ‘salty’ come with it?” Ernie naturally began to wonder more about the candy. “How about ‘spicy’? Maybe even ‘savory’--”

“Ssssssh.”

It was obvious that Ernie was becoming overly talkative. Lefty shook his head briefly and looked over towards Grover; the blue monster was furiously taking notes in his own head to not let the customer blabber on for too long.

“It’s candy; it doesn’t need to be all of those things,” Lefty pointed out. “Just sweet and a little more.”

“Interesting,” Ernie replied as he started to dig through the pockets of his pants. “Just how much for a bag of it?”

“Five dollars.”

“Wait, really?"

“Nickels don’t cut it anymore,” Lefty explained. “The fact it’s only five dollars is the deal of the century. Candy like this goes for at least fifteen. Do you really want to spend fifteen dollars on only one bag of candy?”

“N-no sir,” Ernie stammered, “But five dollars is awfully expensive…”

“It’ll be worth it. You’ll feel great once you try it for yourself.”

“…I guess if you say so,” Ernie hesitated for a second before handing a crisp five-dollar bill to Lefty. “Here, five dollars.”

“And, as a man of my word, here’s your candy,” Lefty handed Ernie what he just bought from him.

“Thank you, sir, thank you.”

With the transaction done, it was time for the salesman to head back and check up on how Grover was doing. As soon as Ernie started talking to himself about the candy and what it could possibly taste like, Lefty slid back to the other side of the street.

"Why, that was amazing!" Grover cheered, "You--"

"Sssssh," Lefty reminded him.

Grover's voice became quieter. "Sorry, I was just in awe about how well that sale went..."

"I'd hope that you were paying attention during it," Lefty narrowed his eyes and relaxed the grip on his coat.

"Oh, I have," Grover nodded. "I have been taking notes."

"Where are they?" Lefty looked around; he didn't see any notepads in his coworker's hands.

"Right in here," Grover lifted his hat off and tapped the blue fur at the top of his head. "In my bright, little noggin."

"Riiiight."

The air around them turned silent as Lefty scanned the area with his eyes again. Before he had a chance to leave without saying anything, one last question popped into Grover's mind.

"Before you leave, Lefty, I have one last thing to ask you; what do the candies taste like?"

That question was enough to make Lefty stop in his tracks. He straightened his restless posture, as if he was pondering about what to say.

"…Have you ever had SweeTarts before?" Lefty asked.

"Why, yes, I have."

"They're like that; sweet, sour, and a little chalky…"

"I see, I see," Grover nodded his head.

"But that does not mean we're allowed to eat them on the job," Lefty leaned over towards Grover again. "The boss says that these are strictly 'for profit'."

"Aww…" Grover shrugged as he. "If that is what the boss wants, then who am I to disagree with him?"

Grover had to admit that it was pretty disappointing that he wasn’t even going to get a chance to try the candy they were selling themselves. Perhaps if it continued to bothered him that much, he could buy a bag from Lefty at the end of his shift?

"Seeing as you seem to be learning…" Lefty smiled at Grover. "I'll let you handle your first day from here."

"Thank you, Lefty," Grover smiled back, "You do not need to worry about me, because I will do my absolute best!"

Lefty nodded; with the confidence that Grover could manage himself, he had no reason to stick around. He scanned his surroundings and snuck away towards one of the neighboring streets. All Grover could do was watch and wave goodbye. The fact he was about to start his work for real made him jittery and nervous, but he at least felt relieved that Lefty had faith in the idea that he could finally do a good job.

After a long string of failures, it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

The neighborhood remained lively as Grover walked deeper into Sesame Street. Even though it had only been a few minutes since he and Lefty last talked, his pride in his work had grown with the salesman’s absence. While it was nice to take notes on what he was doing, Grover also had prior experience as a salesman too; the only difference between his past jobs and the one he had now was that it wasn’t door-to-door.

…Of course now that he thought about it, he realized that he should call Kermit again and see how he’s been doing; it’s been awhile since they last talked.

Grover shook his head. He had to stay focused; after all, that candy wasn’t going to sell itself through the phone. People were walking all around the neighborhood, and they were the people he needed to reach! He was their candy man, and he could paint their sunrise with the color powder that rested in the corners of the bags he sold.

…Wait, powder? Well, Lefty did say they were a bit chalky… Either way, Grover was sure it was made with love and that it could make the world taste good.

Grover’s eyes lit up as he saw his first customer approach him. The man had felt skin that was the color of ice and a long pointed nose of the same color. His silvery hair was simultaneously slick and bulky, and sweater he wore was striped with various shades of blue.

“Hey there,” the customer greeted Grover, “I’ve heard you’ve got the S Candies on ya!”

“Oh yes, the S Candies!” Grover chirped back. So that’s what they were called.

Grover shuffled through the pockets of his trench-coat as his customer watched him; unlike Lefty, he wasn’t used to storing things along the sides of his body. When he used to have his door-to-door salesman job, he either carried the goods he was selling in a briefcase, or it was large enough for him to carry on his own.

“Take your time; I’m not in any hurry,” the customer smiled. “It’s a small price to pay for the ability to be open with others. Seriously, that stuff is amazing.”

“I agree; talking to other people is amazing!” Grover opened up the side of his jacket as he finally realized that’s where he kept it.

“True, but that’s not what I mean,” the customer smiled. “The candy is what I’m referring to. Seriously, take one of them, and you’ll never have to worry about being too shy to talk to others ever again.”

“But what if I do not have that problem?” Grover asked innocently as he pulled out a bag to show his customer. “Even you are talking to me just fine, are you not?”

“I… I can’t say I’m all that comfortable…” the customer rubbed his hands together nervously. “It’s hard to open up to others beyond simple conversations. Such as the one we’re having now…”

“I mean… Do the other candy-men talk to you that much when you buy from them?” Grover asked. While he always enjoyed helping people, he didn’t expect for his current customer to talk about his life problems so much. It simply wasn’t something he encounter as a part of his previous sales jobs; the closest he’s experienced to that were Kermit’s complaints about not having a nose, or ears, or anything to hold the sunglasses Grover wanted to sell him.

“Not typically,” the customer replied, “You know how they are; they get you with their sales pitches and they leave. Something tells me that my last guy doesn’t like to stick around for conversations.”

“I know what you mean.”

Before he could say anything else, Grover paused as he realized the candy was still in his hands. He had a feeling that if Lefty were still there with him, he’d be forced to get to the point and just seal the deal.

“So… How about those five dollars?” Grover waved the bag around with his hand to remind his customer about their deal.

“Oh, right! I forgot that we were talkin’ about buying it,” the customer apologized as he pulled out his wallet. “You know… Actually, how do you feel about me buying two bags instead?”

“Oh, that would be greeeeat,” Grover’s eyes lit up as he pulled out another bag from his coat, “I guess that it would make it ten dollars then.”

The customer looked through his wallet and handed Grover a five-dollar bill. In return. Grover gave him two small bags filled to their brims with the S Candies. A warm feeling grew in his heart as he watched the customer thanked him and left; he wanted to think nothing of it and remain humble. Of course, the sight of a truly happy customer was something Grover rarely ever saw at any of his previous jobs before. Who could blame him for wanting to take pride in it?

“OH MY GOD; IT’S YOU, IT’S YOU, IT’S YOU!”

Grover stumbled out of the way as an energetic monster rushed towards him. His balance became wobbly, and legs tripped over themselves; as he landed on the ground, he finally got dizzy, unfocused look at his surprise visitor. The monster’s gray fur was slightly discolored with patches of lilac, and her streaked, red hair was tied into two circular buns where her ears would be. Her black dress was frayed near its lower edges and she wore a matching black bow on the top of her head.

“…I do not know who you are,” the world around Grover had finally stopped spinning.

“You’re the candy-man, aren’t you?” The monster asked. The volume of her strained, high-pitched voice had become lower.

“Why, yes, I am,” Grover replied. “I am your lovable candy sales-monster, Grover!”

The monster tilted her head as though she didn’t actually recognize who he was. Grover wasn’t sure either, but his attention quickly drifted away once he saw that multiple bags of the S Candies had fallen out of his jacket and onto the pavement below. A wave of embarrassment went through him as though Lefty were nearby, ready to scold Grover about tripping on the job and spilling precious ‘for profit’ cargo everywhere.

A few hurried glances were enough to confirm that he wasn’t there; yet, Grover barely felt any calmer. He reached out for the piles of S Candies below to pick them up, but was quickly beaten out by the quick hands of the other monster.

“This is exactly what I was looking for,” the monster’s eyes sparkled, pleased as punch that Grover had what she wanted.

“…Really? I mean, those candies have been pretty popular today,” Grover observed.

“You don’t know the half of it! They’re mind-blowing!”

Grover looked at the monster again, even more confused than he was previously. As he remembered what Lefty told him about them tasting like SweeTarts, he had to wonder what the appeal of the S Candies in particular were. Sure, SweeTarts were okay, but the idea that they’d create rowdy customers or get other ones to open up about their personal problems to him seemed a bit ridiculous. It’s not like those candies were that great… Were they?

“Are you at least going to pay me for them?” Grover asked the other monster, annoyed how she basically stole the candy away before he could even offer it to her.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that!” The other monster replied as she lowered the bags of S Candies back onto the ground and pulled a few dollars out of one of her hair-buns. “I just got really carried away…”

Grover smiled back as the monster paid him and picked the bags she carried earlier off of the ground again. He could relate to what she just told him; often times, the customers and other employees at his old jobs got completely overwhelmed by his excitable personality and the klutzy way he moved around and knocked things over. He had a feeling that, if he was in the other monster’s position, he would have accidentally done the same thing; it was hard for him to be mad about what happened.
As the gray monster finally said goodbye and left, Grover’s stomach sank as he saw a small crowd of other people gather in front of him. He began to wonder where they came from and when they all got there; business seemed really slow at first, so it definitely caught him off guard. He honestly didn’t even expect for so many people to even want them, let alone show up at once!

Nevertheless, Grover happily accepted each transaction that came his way. Even if the whole situation surrounding the S Candies seemed a bit odd, he comforted himself with the fact that there were other monsters out there who liked their sweets just as much as the crowd around him; after all, he was friends with Cookie Monster. Maybe the crowd around him wasn’t as strange as he thought they were? Maybe they all liked to eat the S Candies just as much as Cookie liked to eat cookies?

Grover had to admit that, in a weird way, he felt proud of the fact he was selling all of that candy. He was finally successful at a job and he didn’t even have to work that hard for it. Sure, he would have liked to work harder to achieve it, but he couldn’t bear to reject luck when it headed his way. If only Lefty were there to seem him!
He peaked his head up from above the slowly dispersing crowd around in search of his co-worker; he was disappointed to see that there weren’t any guys in trench-coats nearby watching over him. A disappointed sigh came out of Grover as he slid bag after bag of candy out of his coat in exchange for more money. It was a bit of a shame too, as he wanted to babble on and on about how his new job was already working out for him. (And it was his first day too!)

Once the crowd was finally gone, Grover sighed and took a minute to check the inventory in his coat; not a lot of the bags remained. Sesame Street had become quiet again, and the only thing that remained of the crowd earlier was the a few hundred dollars that lined one of the pockets inside of it. He closed it and tightened the matching belt around his waist once he realized that it might be awhile until more of them showed up. He was ready to relax and take a little break from his work until either Lefty or more customers arrived.

Except, he couldn’t.

As Grover rested his back against the brick walls of Hooper’s Store, he heard a conversation inside that piqued his interest. It wasn’t in a good, interesting sort of way either, as his eyebrows perked up nervously when he heard what everyone was talking about. Silently, he leaned over towards opened window next to him and the yellow-and-green checkered design below to get a good look at what was happening inside.

“Hey, Alan; do you know what ‘S Candies’ are?”

“Yeah; Elmo and Abby heard about them from other monsters. They say that we can buy this candy on the street.”

The two milkshakes in the shop-keeper’s jittery hands shook as he laid them on the counter. The red monster and pink fairy both sat on the stools across from him, both with confused expressions on their faces. If there was anyone more blissfully unaware about what was happening than Grover, it had to be those two.

“Well—” Alan wasn’t sure what to say. The welcoming smile on his face faded away as he rested the tip of his hand against his dark, thinning hairline. “You see, candy isn’t typically sold on the streets.”

Alan’s eyes shifted away from Elmo and Abby, and towards the rows of food across from where they were. While all sorts of products were on the shelves, what caught their collective attention was the candy intermixed with everything else. Most notably, the candy sold at Hooper’s Store was sold in decorative packages and sealed with care. Even Grover, who was eavesdropping in on everything, recognized that the way Alan sold treats in his store was different than how he and Lefty were handling it.

“Yeah, but there has to be a reason that they’re getting excited about it,” Abby pointed out.

“Like, is there a candy bike that comes here?” Elmo asked.

"I wish I could tell you that there were, but they’re only receiving it from normal people,” Alan replied. “Although, maybe ‘normal people’ isn’t the best way to word it.”

“What do you mean?” Elmo looked up from his milkshake.

“They’re specifically people that try to sell you the candy out of their coats, or vans, or anywhere else they can store it.”

“So if one of them shows up on a bike and tries to sell us candy, we should avoid them?” Abby rubbed her hand against her chin.

“But why?” Elmo asked. “If they have a bike, wouldn’t that mean they’re friendly?”

Alan sighed, “Let’s try not to get too focused on the bike… The reason you should be avoiding them isn’t because they’re trying to be friendly; it’s because they’re offering you drugs. Drugs that hurt your body and don’t make you feel well or like yourself.”

“So like a tummy-ache,” Abby nodded along.

“Sort of, except a tummy-ache goes away after a day or so,” Alan explained. “Often times, the strange candy these dealers are selling will last longer than that…”

Everyone who watched Alan could tell he was having trouble explaining drugs to the two preschoolers in front of him. Abby and Elmo were at that age in life where they were still learning about letters, numbers, and the world around them. How could they possibly understand the concept of drugs, let alone the ambiguous, social issues that surrounded them?

“And that’s just how your body handles it,” Alan continued. “Sometimes, it could go even further than that and make your mind sick as well.”

“Minds can get sick?” Elmo asked.

“Yes, Elmo. Imagine that you two just finished your milkshakes and your stomachs are full. Yet, the little voice that tells you that you might be having a stomach ache instead tells you that you should drink more and more milkshakes. The S Candies can have that same effect on people.”

“Gee, Alan; that sounds awful...”

Grover pulled himself away from the window as the discussion in Hooper’s store shifted away from nature of drugs and towards rudimentary stranger-danger tips that Elmo and Abby could understand. His sense of pride from earlier had been slowly replaced with a sense of uncertainty and dread; what exactly was he selling to everyone else?!

He peeked at the inside of his coat nervously; he wanted to convince himself that they were the SweeTarts that Lefty said they were earlier, but Alan’s recent words continued to stick around. If Grover had to be honest with himself, Alan was a lot more trustworthy than his current co-worker too… A conflict was brewing in his mind, and he simply didn’t know how to solve it.

“Hey, bud…”

A loud shriek escaped Grover’s throat as he jumped in shock. As he lowered back onto the ground, and his nerves began to settle down, he turned around to see that Lefty was next to him. A series of panicked “Ssssh”-es filled the air as Grover took a moment to breath and look at him in the eyes.

“L-Lefty!”

Chapter Text

“I-It is just you…” Grover let out a sigh of relief.

Even if the conversation he overheard earlier at Hooper's Store had left him feeling uneasy, he had to admit that Lefty's presence was soothing in its own strange-yet-familiar manner. Grover, still tense from earlier, remained still and watched as the other salesman peered around suspiciously and took a step backwards towards the yellow "HOOPERS" painted on the corner behind him.

“Mind movin’ someplace else?” Lefty leaned forward and glared at the storefront next to him. “Maybe somewhere less… Public?”

Grover turned around and took glanced at Hooper's Store one more time. Not only were Elmo and Abby still there with Alan, a couple more people had entered the store since he saw it earlier. Even then, the fact that Lefty wanted to step away from there actually surprised him; Hooper's was always a welcome place, so it was strange to see someone try to deliberately avoid it. (The fact that Alan was referring to people exactly like Lefty is his discussion earlier didn’t register in Grover’s mind.)

“...Sure,” Grover quietly replied, fully aware of what happened in there earlier, “Where would you like to go?”

“How about near that post over there?” Lefty pointed to a streetlamp in the distance with a sign labeled E 104th St hanging off of it. 

“Well, that's an unusual spot to choose,” Grover observed, “What made you decide on that one?”

“It’s the intersection between East Harlem and the Upper East Side,” Lefty explained. “We’ll need to go north from that sign to meet up with the boss.”

“…I thought that the boss was in Sesame Street.”

“He is; Sesame just blends in with the two blocks its adjacent to.”

Grover had to admit that his talk with Lefty was entertaining as the two of them headed approached the street sign; Sesame Street seemed nearly endless, so it was a surprise to learn that he could have stepped into either of those two neighborhoods before without realizing it. He always thought that boundaries between them were more obvious, especially with all of the signs he had to remember for previous transportation-related jobs. (For example, back when he was a taxi driver, nobody ever told him to go to “The Upper East Side”; just a specific business or, less commonly, a nearby street or park.)

Once they arrived, Lefty relaxed his shoulders and took a moment to adjust the collar of his coat. The salesman had seemingly opened up a bit more now that they were away from everyone else. Grover looked around to see if that were actually the case; it was, as the street behind him was quieter than it was earlier. 

“So, Grover… How have sales been today?” Lefty asked.

“Oh, they have been great!” Grover nodded quickly, “So many people stopped by to buy the candy, and they talked about how great it is, and about their lives and-- Lefty?”

Grover was about to say something when Lefty gave him an unconvinced look. “Riiiight… Tell ya what you need to do; how about you open up that coat of yours so I can if you've gotten rid of them?”

Without saying a word, Grover pulled the sides of his coat wide open. Lefty winced and hid his face with both of his hands as quickly he realized what he unintentionally did; a monster in nothing but a trench-coat and tie was certainly an awkward sight. He lifted his index finger above his eye to peek closer at the inside of Grover’s jacket and smiled once he saw that most of the S Candies had been sold off of it. (And to think he gave that same outfit a compliment earlier that day.)

“Nice…” Lefty lowered his hands away from his face and towards his waist, “Just one problem.”

“What would that be, sir?”

“You might wanna consider wearing something else underneath that.”

“Huh?”

“Some of us don’t have fur and if we ran around with that look, the man would arrest us."

“…Wait a minute,” the smile on Grover’s face faded. “What would they arrest us for?!”

“Indecent exposure.”

Grover sheepishly wrapped himself with the two sides of his coat and looked away from his co-worker. Lefty turned around and scanned the area around the streetlight in case anyone saw what happened earlier. 

“After we stop by the boss to drop off the stuff that didn’t sell, how about we get ya a nice suit with some of that money you earned?” Lefty suggested. “Trust me, you’ll look like a new monster.”

“Really?” Grover’s eyes widened; it was the first time anyone wanted to help buy a uniform for him.

“Sure, pal,” Lefty smirked. “I’ll even take you to that really nice place on Madison Avenue to get it.”

A wide grin grew across Grover’s face. He was beyond excited to spend time with Lefty afterwards, but what he said about how they earned that money stuck around in his mind. Deep inside of the blue monster was a slowly-growing feeling of hesitation; everything simply seemed too good to be true. A good job, the money from it… Even a social life with his co-workers!

At the same time, he also wasn't the type of person to turn down nice things when they came his way, no matter how dubious the circumstances were. Even as he and Lefty moved away from Sesame Street and down Lexington Avenue toward their next destination, he kept a smile on his face. The red-bricked buildings that towered above them still came off as familiar enough that he didn’t need to worry about where he and his coworker were going; the streets outside of the one he lived on didn’t seem that different when they passed by them either.

“So, Lefty…” Grover wondered out loud while his eyes aimlessly looked all of the storefronts they passed by.

“Huh?” The salesman looked at him. 

“Just out of curiosity; have you ever heard about the drugs?” Grover wasn’t entirely sure how to address the topic that was on his mind.

“…Who hasn't?”

“Well, I overheard at Hooper’s Store that they have been showing up around here lately,” Grover looked away from the storefronts and towards the ground below him. “It was something about people selling them the streets and from their coats…”

Lefty lowered his eyelids halfway, “And?”

“…Is that what we are doing?”

Lefty slowly shook his head sideways. “Now, where would you get an idea like that?”

“I hard it from the nice man who runs it,” Grover answered, “He said that candy was not supposed to be sold the way we are doing it.”

“Right,” Lefty smirked. “Must be one of those guys that get pissy when someone shows up with their same business.”

“Do not say that about him!” Grover’s mouth remained slightly open, “He is a nice guy. He would not even mind if a candy store opened across the street from him.”

“Sure, bud…”

“Really! How about we save up for our own candy store one day?” Grover asked, convinced that he could get Lefty to agree with him on that. "Alan will come over, and congratulate us, and he might even give us a little welcoming present!"

“That’s not how it works.”

Lefty did not choose to elaborate any further. Grover wanted to persuade him harder on the idea, but got too distracted to do it; instead, daydreams about running a candy store flooded his mind like a broken gumball machine that couldn’t stop its balls from flying down the chute. He pictured himself pulling glass jars full of colorful treats off of the shelves while Lefty smooth-talked the customers into buying them. Heck, he could even hire Mike to watch over them from the backroom of their store while they worked there together!

If it were real, it would have been paradise.

Instead, it was only a distant dream. The reality around them was notably less vibrant than the world in Grover’s imagination. There weren’t any nearby candy stores that caught their attention; only brownstone buildings that were very similar to the ones they passed by earlier and small stores that weren’t as bright as the ones back on Sesame Street. Really, the only thing he could do was walk next to Lefty and hope that their boss was nearby.

“Hey, you there! The guy in the trench-coat!”

A chill spread through Grover’s fur as he heard a strangely familiar voice in the distance. A nasal, plain voice that he recognized from the street he lived on. The monster’s tensely looked towards Lefty as he wondered if he was doing another sales pitch, but Lefty looked just as startled as he was. Both of their froze in place and shivered as they turned around to look at whoever shouted at them. 

The familiar man’s unibrow was furrowed into a V-like shape and the frown that went across his face nearly scrunched it inwards. His yellow, felt-like hands shook fiercely as though they were seconds away from socking both Lefty and Grover in the face; one was balled up in a fist, and another had a familiar looking bag filled with the candy the two salesmen sold to others earlier. Lefty silently gulped, and Grover only trembled with one question on his mind…

What was Bert doing here?

“...Technically, sir, we are both in trench-coats,” Grover spoke up. Before he could ask Bert about why he was there, he was pushed backwards and away from the brewing conflict.

“Don’t worry, he's just an unsatisfied customer,” Lefty looked at Grover from behind his shoulder. “It’s something I can handle on my own. All you need to do stand back, and learn from the best.”

Grover gulped as Lefty straightened up his posture and smugly walked away from him. He wasn’t afraid of the possibility that his co-worker couldn’t pull it off; he was more afraid of how absolutely enraged Bert was. He simply never saw Bert that angry before. Sure, he was regularly pushed to his limits by Ernie’s shenanigans, but there was a certain glare in his eyes that felt like a recently sharpened dagger. Even just watching Lefty attempt to stop the conflict made Grover’s blood run cold and his heart sprint fast.

“What’s the matter, bud?” Lefty asked, no longer phased by his surprise visitor.

“Listen here, ‘bud’; you have some nerve selling these to my friend,” Bert pulled out a bag filled with S Candies out of his pocket. 

“I’d say the same thing ‘bout you,” Lefty turned his head and glanced at the road behind him. “Sesame Street’s a long way back.”

“I know that," Bert gave him an annoyed glare. “It’s a distance I’m willing to go if it means Ernie stays out of trouble.”

Grover watched silently as Lefty shrugged off what Bert said. If he were in his co-worker’s position, he would have been apologizing profusely for selling it to Ernie. In the back of his mind, however, he couldn't help but wonder why Bert was to to such lengths to pursue them out of Sesame Street. Surely, there was more to it than Bert simply not liking what most people considered fun…

“It wasn’t hard to figure out that you were the one who sold him those ‘S Candies’. Now, you better give us a refund, or--.” 

“Sorry, bud; no refunds.”

“Aren't you even aware of what you could have done?” Bert asked. “Those things aren't something you should be fooling around with; me and Ernie might not necessarily agree with everything, - I even bickered with him about whether or not we should return them, - but--”

“Sssssssh!”

"Don’t shush me, you meatball,” Bert didn't flinch from Lefty’s attempt to silence him. “I’m not letting you drag him down the same path so many others have gone down.”

“Except he won’t,” Lefty's smirk returned. “They’re just normal candies; they aren’t gonna cause him to--”

Bert tightly grappled the collar of Lefty’s jacket and forcefully pulled him closer. The rage inside of Ernie’s friend had gone from cold to warm and seemed like it was about to overflow onto the street below them. Lefty looked around in panic; Grover shivered behind a close-by mailbox as he continued to listen to the argument in front of him. He was afraid to help him out because he was even more afraid of Bert. 

“...Just normal candies?'" Bert pushed his nose against the salesman’s face as he glared into his eyes. "You’re lucky that Ernie didn’t even get a chance to try them yet, or else I’d be training pigeons to peck the eyes out of your skull by now!"

Sweat dripped down Lefty’s face as he instinctively pulled his head backwards and tried to look elsewhere. He tried to swerve the rest of his body away from Bert, but his grip around his collar left him imprisoned in his own trench-coat. The was no easy way to for him to flee, and a heavy, reluctant sigh came out of him.

“Fine,” Lefty’s shoulders slumped over in defeat. “Just settle down... I’ll give you two the refund.”

Bert let go of Lefty and stepped backwards to allow him some more space. The salesman slid his hand inside of his coat and pulled out the money that Ernie paid him earlier; his hands trembled reluctantly as he looked at it one last time and sighed. Bert snatched the dollars out of his hand and glared at him without saying anything else. With the refund taken care of -and no other reasons to stick around-, he threw the candy towards the sweet (and in front of Lefty) and stormed back down the road he came down from. Lefty’s rough breathing slowed down as he muttered near-silently (and as a result, incoherently) something about buying a new handgun.

“You can stop hiding now," Lefty turned his head and looked at the mailbox Grover hid behind.

The blue monster peeked his head out from the side, and sighed in relief. Bert was only a speck in the distance, and Lefty was still fine; what was he so worried about anyways? Grover remembered how he said he could handle it on his own, and began to feel sorry on the inside for even doubting that possibility. His heightened sense of fear got the best of him. While he was aware he did nothing wrong by standing back, the guilt inside of him that racked up from countless failures at his past jobs wanted to say otherwise; how was he supposed to know that Lefty was telling the truth?

Wait… Was Lefty telling the truth about everything?

“Are… Are you absolutely sure that’s candy?” Grover asked, his eyes still wide from the fright that had not left him yet.

“I already told you, it's just candy,” Lefty crossed his arms. "Normal candy. Nothing special about it.”

Nothing special? Grover continued to stare at Lefty uncertainly as the two of them began to calm down. If they were nothing special, then why did everyone on Sesame Street act like they’re either the meaning of life, or a danger to society itself? Not even Cookie Monster had opinions that heated about sweets! Grover only felt a sense of uneasiness growing inside of him as his mind silently played back everything that happened to him at work earlier.

“You know, the boss is nearby,” Lefty smiled. “After we pay him a visit, how about we talk about that suit we’re getting ya later?”

Grover's concerns began to fade away as pride and comfort replaced them. If there was one thing he truly felt confident in, it it was that he liked how Lefty always knew the right thing to say...

Chapter Text

The near-silent buzzing of the nearby air kept Grover awake as he aimlessly stared towards the ceiling. Even though it was time for him to rest up for the next day, his sore eyelids refused to close for the night. There wasn’t anything to stare at in the darkness, yet a lot of thoughts still raced through his mind.
It had been a few weeks since he started working for Mike. If Grover remembered correctly, his position in his boss’s hierarchy of workers was simply “associate”; he always assumed that it meant “sales associate”, but looking back on it, he wasn’t too sure anymore. Lately, he and Lefty had been assigned a few other jobs unrelated to the S Candies, such as running bets that their customers couldn’t see out animals in the negative space of paintings, or transporting snowmen from nearby North Country (to sell later, of course). It was certainly an interesting change of pace from selling the same candies and dealing with the same customers over and over; in fact, Grover even forgot about his concerns regarding it for awhile.

The nagging voice in the back of his mind, however, was still aware of it and how unusual his current job was to ones he had in the past.

For example, while he and Lefty always referred to Mike as their boss, his actual title was “soldier” and he also had bosses of his own to take orders from. That name reminded him more of the war stories he overheard from veterans than the realities of their jobs. Perhaps it was because nothing too odd had happened yet, but the smell of burning flesh and loud rockets weren’t things Grover typically heard while he was out.

It was usually just whispering, footsteps, and the rare gun-shot or vehicle speeding away.

In a way, he had learned to fear silence. Often times, work was unremarkable enough that he and Lefty held pleasant conversations with each-other as they handled their task for the day. Yet, if Lefty turned cold and silent, either he had slipped away or something worse (such as their encounter with Bert weeks earlier) was about to occur.
The only thing that even made Grover comfortable to sleep in a room that quiet was the smartphone that was on the table next to his bed. He’d use it to play soothing piano music or listen to an episode of the ambient music show that aired on Sesame Street’s radio late at night; both of them were good at easing his nerves and tired eyes, especially since it helped drown out the anxiety that came with his job.

Grover pulled his phone over to his side and turned it on. The screen was surprisingly bright and the light from it spilled into the rest of his room.. He wanted to look at the screen and enter his password, but something else in the corner of the room caught his eye instead; the suit that Lefty bought him on his first day.
His eyes squinted away from the harsh light of his phone’s screen and looked at the suit more closely. It was a dark shade of gray that stood out against his coat, and the tie he bought originally rested upon it nicely. Memories from his trip to buy it filled his mind and warmed his heart. It was nice of Lefty to come along and join him. Sure, he didn’t buy anything for himself while they were there, but the smile he saw on his face remained rich enough to stay in his mind. Of course, the money itself that they used to get it was a loan from Mike; Grover wasn’t entirely looking forward to paying it off, but work expenses had to be taken care of somehow.
He lowered his head back down towards the screen in his hands; he still needed to pull up some music to listen to, or else he wasn’t going to drift away into slumber. It seemed counterproductive given how bright his screen was, but something had to be done about it. Grover quickly typed in his password and opened the online video player on his phone, a picture at the top of it’s front-page caught his attention instead.

“ S Candies and You. How can you help ?”

Grover blinked as he stared at the words, immediately interested in what it had to say. From the way it was worded, it sounded like a recruitment ad to get more salesmen on-board to sell more of it. He previously heard from Mike that they had other associates in charge of their online presence, but it didn’t seemed like it belonged to that section of his business. Why would they need to hire people online? There weren’t many positions still open when Lefty brought him on board originally…
However, his curiosity became too strong to resist; Grover clicked on it, and a video took its place in the upper-center of his phone’s screen. The app’s white interface remained the same, yet a world that wasn’t the streets of Sesame Street and East Harlem, or Mike’s office showed up on screen. Instead it was… A hospital?

He wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The narration that played over it said nothing about selling the S Candies themselves, or anything about joining shady workplaces. Instead, a calming female voice pleaded that they needed help getting everyone to recover from the consumption of the candies as well as “other substances”, and that they were short on volunteers. Upon closer inspection, the location itself didn’t even look like look like a hospital; shelves of files and books lined the stark white walls of the building and there weren’t any stretchers or equipment nearby. In fact, the only thing that it had in common with a hospital was the fact some of the employees on screen wore medical scrubs. (Even then, other employees didn’t and just dressed on the “casual” end of business-casual.)
Grover’s attention faded away from the commercial as he lowered his phone face-down onto his bed. That gut feeling from earlier about Mike and the businesses he ran came back worse than before; there was simply no way their online division would have been in charge of that! The place on screen was far too welcoming and bright for it to be one of their operations. Plus, it also said that it wanted to stop the S Candies as well, which seemed incredibly counter-productive to how Mike actually ran things...

“Please, if you can, join us at the Welcoming Hearts Rehabilitation Center. We need all of the volunteers we can get to help out our communities!”

Something finally clicked in Grover’s mind as the pit that was already in his stomach dropped like a rock. Not only was Alan right about the candies being drugs, he was likely hurting Sesame Street as well by selling them. The monster shivered in place as he wrapped the covers of his bed around him. The air around him remained cold as his conflicting feelings only grew stronger and stronger. He wanted to help the community he lived in, but at the same time, there was a massive debt in his heart that he needed to pay off.
Grover still felt incredibly thankful for Mike and Lefty’s help, but he was stung by the mere idea of having to turn around and fix mistakes that they wouldn’t even want fixed. What would the boss think about him sabotaging their future sales like that? What would the nagging voice in the back of his mind that reminds him of his countless other failures think? And then there was the question that made Grover's heart break even thinking about it…

What would Lefty think?

Grover shook his head as he desperately tried to get that thought out of his mind. Why does he like Lefty so much anyways? He refused to let him know the truth on multiple occasions and regularly dipped out on him at the most questionable of times. Lefty simply wasn’t that reliable; yet, there was a longing sense of comfort and familiarity that always made him come back for more. Lefty knew what to say and what to do; it made him feel like a good companion to have. However, that in and of itself barely answered his question…
Grover clicked away from the video app on his phone and scrolled through his pictures as he tried to remember what what made him feel that way. Although there were no pictures of Lefty on there (since Mike didn’t want them having their phones on them at work), the memories captured in them reminded him of a dear friend that moved away years ago…

Kermit.

There was a void in Grover’s heart that had been there since the frog moved away from Sesame Street. Last time he saw Kermit, he was heading on a flight to pursue a career in show business. He wasn't sure if was to London or Los Angeles; it could’ve have even been both of those cities… All he knew was that it was the last time he ever saw his friend in person, and he didn’t even get a chance to hug him goodbye before his flight arrived.
Sure, they sometimes talked over the phone about how things were going, which Kermit often talked about how incredibly happy he was with his new life; he had friends, a rewarding career, and even an on-and-off girlfriend who worked alongside him! Not only was Grover sad that he couldn’t be there with him, his own life even seemed mundane and sad in comparison. He couldn’t hold onto a job, – and although he had other friends – he still felt lonelier than ever.
No wonder why Lefty seemed so appealing to be around; he probably just gravitated towards the first person with green skin and a tan trench-coat he could find! Kermit always wore one those when he was a reporter for Sesame Street News, spreading awareness about the issues happening where they lived. Grover wasn’t even sure how his mind made that connection either; Lefty and Kermit clearly had two different views on morality. It wasn’t like Lefty was going to change his mind with the power of friendship and take up Kermit’s old job. They were two different individuals...

Grover resumed staring at the pitch-black ceiling above him. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He just wanted to give up and accept his new job because of the security and connections it offered him. He felt empty and the only thing he wanted was the comfort of having a roof over his head. Plus, Lefty seemed to like him too, so – even if he couldn’t help anyone else – he could look forward to spending more time with him as well.
His arms trembled as he lifted the phone off of his bed and pulled it back towards him. The advertisement from Welcoming Hearts was still on display; their plea for volunteers hadn’t disappeared, and a warm smile grew across Grover’s face. His eyes struggled to stay open as he pulled up his phone’s browser and typed in the rehabilitation center’s name to see where it was. As it turned out, it wasn’t far from Sesame Street; in fact, it was about five or six other businesses away from Mike’s office. It was much closer to where he lived than he expected it to be.
Grover pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, screen-capped the building’s address, and turned it off for the night. Even though his bedroom was just as silent as it was before, he could at least sleep comfortably knowing that he could change Sesame Street for the better.

Hopefully, the boss wouldn’t mind him taking the day off tomorrow…

Crisp, bright walls and the smell of sanitizer felt like a different universe from the one Grover was used to. Even though he had just entered the front lobby of the Welcoming Hearts Rehabilitation Center, it was already a breath of fresh air in comparison to the musty streets and smoky air that filled the streets outside. Sure, it wasn’t as clean as the air back on Sesame Street’, but could he really complain about it? To him, it was a secluded realm away from all of his anxieties...

It might have not been that candy store he daydreamed about sometimes, but it felt like paradise in it’s own right.

Grover’s smile faded as he walked deeper into the building. Although he was relieved to be there, the others around him didn’t feel the same way. While humans, monsters, and everything in between passed by him, a lot of them were shaking or slouched over. Many nervously twitched as their mouths wavered uncertainly, and others seemed closed off and grouchy. Those who didn’t fit any of those descriptions were either employees in scrubs with a tired, weary look in their eyes, or the worried relatives of other patients.
The apparent hopelessness that filled the room quickly began to overwhelm Grover as well. Even just seeing it firsthand was enough to make him pause in his tracks. Even as he tried to venture further into the rehab center, his guilt from before weighed down his feet like a pair of ball-and-chain shackles around his ankles. He wanted to continue forward and ask one of the employees about how to volunteer, yet he struggled to even leave the nearby waiting room.
Candy was supposed to make the world taste good. Yet all of the people in the room were different kinds of miserable. Some tried to console their relatives, while other mumbled about feeling worse without the drugs they were on. S Candies, of course, happened to be the one that was mentioned the most, although Grover did recognize a few other names that were a normal part of society. There were ones also he’s never heard of prior, but he figured that it wasn’t the time or place to ask anybody about it...

He could barely even bring himself to ask about volunteering there, let alone ask more questions.

Grover slowly swallowed his nerves and stepped towards the front desk of the lobby; sitting around and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to stop his problem. He had to get in contact with the nice lady who sat there and then ask her about how he could help. It seemed like a tough task, especially when the weight of his own acts threatened to topple him at any moment.

“Hell… H-hello there,” Grover struggled to let the words out of his mouth.

The human receptionist looked up from her computer and at Grover. Her shoulder-length blonde hair and brown eyes brought out the warmth in her smile as she looked at him. The short-sleeved button-down shirt and black pinafore she wore made her look professional, and a plaid, brown cardigan hung off of the chair she sat in.

“Oh, hi,” the receptionist tilted her head, “Are you here for the group therapy meeting? It’s not supposed to start for another hour and a half.”
“Actually, miss…” Grover still felt uncertain, “I am here to ask about volunteering.”
“Really?” The receptionist paused, almost as though she didn’t expect anyone to say that, “Well… We have been needing more people to help us.”

A wavering grin spread across Grover’s face. He nearly felt like he could cry; it wasn’t time to do that yet, but recognizing her answer from the advertisement he saw the night before made his heart tremble and his eyes feel dry.

"There’s just one thing I should mention…” the receptionist spoke up, “You need to sign-up ahead of time before we could give you a position.”

Grover’s smile faded.

“…It’s not your fault; we just need to make sure that you get to learn how we do things around here beforehand,” the receptionist explained, “Without proper guidance, we won’t be able to make sure you won’t say the wrong thing to our patients, or accidentally mess with medical supplies that they might need.”

As the receptionist elaborated on more of the duties (such as paperwork or answering phone-calls) that volunteers could possibly be assigned to, Grover felt a little more at ease. Although there were tasks that he found a bit intimidating, other tasks reminded him of the work he was already doing with Lefty, except… More ethical.
It was a shame that it was volunteer position, though; it seemed like a nice job that he would have quit the one he already had for. The best part of it? Nobody would have to lie to him about how much it truly helped people. (Although he still wasn’t entirely sure; Lefty’s lies about it made him inherently distrust anyone – or anywhere – else that would tell him that.)

“With that said, though, I’ll give you a tour of this place first,” the receptionist pushed her chair backwards and walked out of, “That way, you can decide on whether or not we’re the right fit for you. We can even sit-in on the group therapy meeting if you’d like.”
“Oh yes, oh yes! That would be great!” Grover nodded back, “I am so excited to tour this building with you and-- Wait, are you not going to shoosh me?”

The front desk and the area around it became awkwardly silent on its own. It wasn’t being silenced against its will; the conversation had turned in an unexpected direction that neither of them were sure how to respond too. Grover’s eyes widened as he realized how used he was to being interrupted by Lefty’s trademark whispering. The fact he even referred to it as though it was something that normally happened low-key horrified him, and the perplexed stare on the receptionist’s face didn’t help either.

“…Why would I?” the receptionist's confusion faded away as her smile returned, “Listening to people and their concerns is an important part of what we do here. We'll even be your smiling friends that will help you get to a better place!”

Chapter Text

Time flashed by quickly as their tour of the rehabilitation center wrapped up. Grover was relieved as he observed how everything worked and how the receptionist informed him that mistakes were allowed to be made sometimes. After all, everyone loses paperwork now and then; with how busy Welcoming Hearts had becomen, they couldn’t afford to kick people out for tiny errors.

“And that’s the gist of everything,” the receptionist said as she and Grover reached the end of the hallway, and almost at the edge of the waiting room, “It might be difficult at first, but I’m confident that you’ll get be good at it in no time!”
“Why, thank you!” Grover chirped back, “To be honest… I just feel so happy to be here.”

He wanted to tell her about how a weight was lifted off his chest; deep down, though, he knew that any happiness he felt would only be temporary. If it weren’t the gloominess that waited for them back in the lobby or in the other rooms, it would have been the fact he would’ve needed to sell more S Candies the next day and hurt his newfound goal further...

“It’s been a long time since we heard that from anyone,” the receptionist’s smile faded, “I’m not sure if it’s because of how low our success rate has become, or if it’s simply because we’ve been handling a lot more cases now, but nobody’s said anything about how much we’ve helped them lately.”
“How come?” Grover asked.
“You know how its hard to keep a stack of plates from falling over when more and more of them are placed on top of it?”

Grover shuddered; that analogy only brought back memories from his on-and-off employment at Charlie’s Restaurant. It had been at least a year since the last time he was fired, but he still remembered countless times where that exact thing happened to him.

“More people have been coming through our doors lately and it’s been hard for us to handle all of them at once,” the receptionist explained, “While I’ll admit that it’s not my job specifically, I’ve overheard from Dr. Tadeo and the others that it’s been hard to give everyone the one-on-one care that they need. Group counseling sessions are becoming more and more frequent, and it’s been hard handling every relapse or barely-avoided overdose that comes our way. Our patients needs reassurance; how can you give it to them when S Candies are being sold right around the corner and creating two more patients for each one we help?”

“…That is tough,” Grover gazed downwards; as it turns out, they weren’t lying about needing that help.

“Of course, if it seems like a bit much to process, you don’t have to sign up right away,” Amelie rested the lower half of her arm on Grover’s shoulder. (Humans towered above monsters and everyone else.)
“Is there a set amount of time I can wait, or can I just do that whenever I get a chance to?” Grover began to relax a bit.
The receptionist looked down at him, “Ideally, it should be in the next few weeks… By the way, I forgot to ask; what’s your name?”
“My name is Grover.”
“Thanks,” the receptionist replied back, “We need to know whose paperwork belongs to who when we approve people to join us. That way, we don’t get confused and accidentally ask the wrong person to come in, in case we were thinking about somebody else instead of you.”

Grover paused as he figured out what he wanted to say next, “…What is your name? I will probably need to mention that you gave me a tour already.”
“It’s Amelie,” the receptionist replied,” Amelie Mondadori. You might not need to use my last name, but you seem like the type who would need to know what to tell them.”
“Ah ha, yes, of course,” Grover nervously laughed.

Amelie seemed so kind. However, he still remembered what happened the last time he thought that way about someone else. Lefty was so kind when they first met; he offered him some letters to buy out of his coat for reasonable prices. After they got to know each-other, he even helped him secure the job that he had now...
As much as Grover still liked to see himself as outgoing and willing to befriend new people, his heart had become broken from all of the wear and tear it was put under. How could he reach out to Amelie and tell her that she knew exactly what to say, especially when he was burned once before by the same thing?

“Just so we are on the same page… Can you tell me a little more about the S Candies?” Grover asked, “I have previously heard that they are not good, but I would like to know more about the science behind them...”
“Firstly, they’re not really candies,” Amelie explained, “It’s actually a variant of a drug known as ‘MDMA’. It goes under other names like ‘ecstasy’ and ‘molly’ as well. Do you recognize any of those names?”
“I think so,” Grover rubbed his chin; he thought that one of those names sounded familiar, “…When I was younger, I had a friend that carried around a doll named Molly. It had the cutest little red nose and--”
“…I don’t think that counts,” Amelie smiled awkwardly, “It usually gets pretty awkward when people named Molly walk in here because of that, especially if they’re recovering from a different substance.”

Grover nodded as he continued to listen to what Amelie had to say. Who knew that there was so much to learn about the S Candies? And more importantly, why didn’t Lefty tell him about any of this?

“That being said, while we know that the S Candies are spreading throughout the area, we’re not sure where they’re actually coming from,” Amelie continued, “All we know is that it’s shot up to one of the most common drugs we have to deal with in our patients. It’s a shame too, really, as they could potentially be utilized for good in a controlled environment; did you know that ecstasy was actually used as a psychotherapy tool in the seventies?”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah; it eventually felt into the wrong hands and things… Spiraled out of control from there. Originally, it was back in the eighties and nineties, but there’s been an odd resurgence in New York lately. From what I heard from our patients, they had become wise to recognizing the typical drugs that used to be sold here. Weed was legalized, and they became skeptical of a lot of the other ones that were sold around here. Some streets, like Sesame Street, even had astonishingly low rates of drug dependency before this.”

Grover’s eye lit widened once Sesame Street was brought up. The neighborhood was always an anomaly; not only by its lack of substance abuse, but also by all of the friendly neighbors that lived there and how crime seemed almost non-existent. Of course, being so close to the Upper East Side probably helped it, but there was something to be said about how idyllic the neighborhood was overall..

“This is only a theory I have, but I think it’s because of neighborhoods like it that the drug dealers realized they needed to change their tactics,” Amelie rubbed her chin, “Think about it. Traditional routes like alcohol and weed have been cut off for years, and everyone’s too skeptical about bags of white powder around here. They know that these neighborhoods have a lot of unsupervised kids, as well as adults who tend to forget what the world is like outside of Sesame Street. You might as well try a different strategy, like making people think they’re buying candy instead.”

His old friend, guilt, returned. Grover was impressed by how close Amelie’s guess was to the truth, but he felt too afraid to speak up and confirm it. He wasn’t even trying to trick people at the time; he genuinely thought that he was selling candy to them. The way that she said it only confirmed the worries that he had in the back of his mind about the activities he was assigned to do at work. None of it seemed legal, and barely any of it made sense from the perspective of an otherwise innocent associate.

He didn’t want stab anyone’s back and reveal the truth; he just wanted to repair the damage he already caused.

“Anyways, it’s almost time for the group counseling session…” Amelie looked at the bronze-colored watch on her wrist, “Do you still feel like sticking around for it? It’s an interesting way to see the firsthand effects they’re having on the community.”
“...Of course,” Grover calmly nodded, “I have been a camp counselor before; surely it can not be that different.”
“It’s actually a lot different from running a summer camp,” Amelie explained, “Everyone sits in a circle, and we talk about our problems, and… You know what; you’ll see what I mean in a bit.”

The receptionist walked away from Grover and returned down the corridor she had just passed through. The lack of heads up made him a bit antsy about what she was doing, but the short distance she went didn’t leave any room for intentions to hide.

Instead, Amelie arrived near one of the doors as a middle-aged man with beige skin and thick black hair stepped out of it. He adjusted the dark blue blazer he wore and immediately began talking to her. Grover wasn’t able to hear them at first, and stepped a little closer to their conversation; eavesdropping on people wasn’t that great of a habit, but it was one that he developed recently due after overhearing a certain discussion at Hooper’s Store weeks ago...

“Hey, Dr. Tadeo,” Amelie greeted, “I know this might seem like an odd question, but do you mind if me and a possible volunteer sit in on this meeting?”

The therapist, Dr. Manuel Tadeo didn’t look too sure about his co-worker’s plan, “To be honest, I’m not sure…”
“How come?” Amelie asked.

“I know that you mean well, but its too risky given what’s been happening nearby lately,” Dr. Tadeo replied, “With the reports about the increased gang activity in this area, allowing unfamiliar strangers into our sessions isn’t a wise idea. One of those mobsters could sneak in and either start threatening us, or targeting our patients and triggering them into relapses. It’s already dangerous enough when we catch them outside of entrance, but we can’t afford to endanger others just for the sake of a volunteer who may or may not stick around...”

“If you’re worried about dealers on the premises, we could always hire those nice guys in the suits that say they want to protect us.”
“They only say that to secure certain locations because of territory disputes, and to maintain the illusion that they aren’t the ones dealing drugs.”
“Wait, how do you know so much about those guys?” Amelie tilted her head out of curiosity. It appeared that she didn’t know as much as she seemed to know originally.
“This information is easily available online,” Dr. Tadeo replied, “It’s been that way since Joseph Valachi turned himself in decades ago. It’s pretty fascinating stuff.”

“While I get the concern and – to be honest –that I need to read up about it more, I’m pretty sure that Grover over here has nothing to do with them,” Amelie calmly gestured towards the nearby blue monster, “He might not know about what’s going on as much as you do, but he truly wants to help.”

“…If that’s how you feel about it, I’ll let you two in,” Dr. Tadeo opened the door next to him, “...But just keep an eye on him, especially if things surrounding him get suspicious. He’s already flying a little too close for our comfort, and I’d be worried if anything happened to you or any of our patients afterwards.”

With the door open and permission to join the session barely granted, Amelie thanked the therapist, and alerted Grover that they both could go in.

At first, he was excited to join them; however, any joy or peace he was expecting was once again dampened as he saw all of the faces in the room with him. Even though Grover recognized a few of them from his time in the waiting room earlier, they seemed even gloomier than they were before. Many of them were slouched over in their chairs, and with their forearms over the tops of their legs. The friends and relatives that a few of them were seen with earlier had stayed behind, and many of the patients had a dull, plastic glaze in their spoon-like eyes. A few of them fidgeted with their hands and other small belongings, while others mumbled to themselves about how hopeless they felt.
The cheerful monster felt out of place among everyone else. He wondered about how Dr. Tadeo and Amelie were handling it, and looked over at them. The therapist struggled to form a welcoming smile on his face, and Amelie was distracting herself with the pads of paperwork that she was asked to hold onto seconds earlier.
It was a far cry from the paradise that Grover had in mind earlier; if anything, it felt like the uncanny opposite of a day of work with Lefty. Although the air was clean – perhaps a bit too clean – and the room they were in felt open and had a circle of chairs that would have been perfect for musical games in it, the sadness in the room couldn’t be ignored. The feelings everyone went through seemed just as unnatural as the extreme happiness that he saw whenever somebody bought the S Candies. Deep down, he had a feeling that the dark emotions that filled the room were just the natural result of the artificial happiness that the drugs originally brought them.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming to group therapy today,” Dr. Tadeo welcomed everyone, “Now, to start things off, I’ve noticed that we’ve got a couple of new faces here with us. How about we start off our meeting today by getting to know them first?”

All of the patients stared at Dr. Tadeo before they diverted their attention elsewhere, barely interested in what he had to say.

“Anyways, we’ll start off with these two to my right,” Dr. Tadeo gestured towards Amelie, and Grover, who sat right next to her, “This is Amelie. You might recognize her as one of the receptionists we have at the front desk. She’s here today since she brought a friend with us; isn’t that right, Amelie?”
“I mean… I wouldn’t call him a friend yet,” Amelie’s eyes drifted away from the patients around her and awkwardly towards Grover.
“You see, she brought me here today since I would like to potentially volunteer here,” Grover spoke up, “I have noticed how much everyone is hurting, and--”

“I’m sorry for interrupting you, but would you mind waiting until your turn?” Dr. Tadeo asked nicely.
“But I am tired of being silenced!” Grover put his hand over his mouth; he didn’t realize that that some of the pent-up anger he had towards Lefty leaked out until he said that out loud.

“I understand that you might be having troubles of your own in your personal life, but you have to be respectful of the fact others, like Amelie, might want to continue talking,” Dr. Tadeo explained, “If we let everyone speak over each other whenever they felt like they had something to say, we would get nothing accomplished. All of us hurt in one way or another, and we need to have some organization in place to keep our personal goals and missions in order.”
"But, sir! I--"
"No buts. Take a minute to consider what you're going to say, and if it's still on your mind after we've finished introducing everyone, you can go ahead and say it."
“Oh, alright…” Grover sighed apologetically, "Sorry, Dr. Tadeo, sir…"

“His name is Grover by the way,” Amelie introduced him to the group on her behalf, “He might not be well-versed with what’s going on, but he still means well.”

The group looked at Grover and Amelie briefly, before they all turned away and looked back at their hands or aimlessly at the floor.

“I see that they’re receiving a bit of a warm welcome today…” Dr. Tadeo remarked to himself as Amelie handed him the clipboard his paperwork was on, “Even though you might not relate to them too much since they aren’t actually in the program, I still have another face to introduce you guys to...”

The collective interest of all the patients only perked up slightly. They weren’t too amused by the first two introductions they witnessed, but it seemed like they were at least willing to hear what the last newcomer had to say.

“I’d like to introduce you to our newest member, Trista. Say hello to Trista, everyone.”

The patient to the right of Grover shamefully curled up into her chair as the others greeted her for the first time. Her yarn-like dark brown hair drooped over her face and hid it with her reddish-lavender hands. The dark makeup around her eyes peeked out from between her fingers as she struggled to greet everyone back.

“..H…Hello.”

Grover slowly waved back to Trista with the hope that she would wave back. Nothing happened, as Trista didn’t see him; she was too focused on calming herself and uncurling herself out of her seat.

“If it’s alright, would you like to talk about your first encounter with the S Candies and when you realized that they became a problem?” Dr. Tadeo asked as Trista reluctantly looked at him, “You don’t have to share anything right away if you don’t want to.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” Trista reassured him, “I’ll start…”

“…It all began a few months ago, before people really talked about them. I was out shopping for a party that I was supposed to host later, and I really needed to get candy. There was a place that I wanted to go to, but a strange man in a tan coat pulled me off to the side when he overheard that I was looking for treats that my guests would like. At first, I wasn’t sure about it; they were just these tiny pills… But the way he convinced me what made me want to try them.”

Grover felt one of his eyebrows go up; she wasn’t referring to Lefty, was she? A similar sentiment spread among the other patients as they mumbled about themselves and whether it was “the green guy” or not. (Some of the others argued that the man in question was lavender or that he had sharp features that Lefty didn’t physically have.)

“It turned that the guy was right about them and it became the best party I’ve ever went to. I kept wanting to relive that feeling over and over and couldn’t go without more of it. Every time I did, I only found myself longing for more, and twitching in my sleep. My memory became foggy, and I just felt… Irritable. It wasn’t the happiness I craved earlier; it had turned into a craving that I couldn’t escape from…”

“…I just wish I could experience actual happiness again,” Trista began to cry into her hands, “Instead, I just feel numb and burnt out...”

Similar mumbling spread through the rest of the group; even Grover nodded along, sympathetic to her plight. He would have liked to hug her and tell her that everything would be alright, but it didn’t seem like Trista wanted to be bothered with one.

“It’s okay, Trista,” Amelie turned to face the crying patient, “The first step to recovering is not only admitting, but recognizing that you have a problem. You’ve even reached the second step to feeling better; reaching out for help when you realize that you can’t do it on your own.”

“T-thanks,” Trista sniffled, “I just wish I knew what to do after that…”

As Dr. Tadeo started a discussion with Trista and the other patients about coping strategies and what helped them feel better (especially when they first reached out for help), Grover’s shoulders began to feel heavy.

... Is this what the S Candies were truly doing to people?

He still couldn’t believe that such tiny pills could cause such a tremendous amount of mental harm to one person. He wanted to return to work, shake Lefty and Mike by both of their shoulders, and ask them if they were even aware of the harm they were causing to others. Yet, money’s ever-enduring allure was enough to keep even the most concerned of individuals quiet; how he could he possibly get Lefty to change his ways if he couldn’t even convince himself to do the same thing?
By the time that Grover started paying attention to the meeting again, the topic had changed to something else. From the looks of things, Trista seemed to have cheered up a bit; however, another patient –this time a monster – sighed as he began to talk about another experience he had.

“Have I ever told you guys about the time I took too many S Candies, got sick, and nearly died?”

Wait, what? Grover’s eyes became wide. A few of the other members with milder addiction cases reacted similarly, and stared at the other patient as he started to tell his story.

“So I took about four or five of them once, and I kinda got drowsy afterwards,” the patient began, “At first, it didn’t seem so bad. I had a good buzz and I felt great. No big deal, right?”

Everyone looked at the patient in worry as he continued to talk about the experience where he took more than a few pills at once.

“So half an hour later, I felt thirsty and wanted to get something to drink. It seemed like a good idea at the time until I realized how queasy I was just walking over to my sink. I… Well, you can guess what happened to it earlier; I didn’t get my water. I did have a sink full of puke though.”

A few of the other patients recoiled in disgust as Amelie and Dr. Tadeo continued to listen to the story, unphased by the turn of events in it.

“My head felt hot, and I struggled to stay up. I could only hold onto the counter, even as I felt my legs collapse beneath me. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was my feeling my sweat drip onto the floor and the sound of an ambulance… Kinda makes me thankful my roommate was there for me.”

Grover felt the conversation around him get slowly drown out he tightly curled up onto his chair. He wasn’t going into a coma of his own, yet his throat felt like it was moments away from screaming; he couldn’t even do it, especially since he knew that Dr. Tadeo was concerned about any possible connections he had to the distribution of the candies. All he could think about was how he could have sold the pills that nearly killed the patient that told him the story he overheard earlier.
He felt like a murderer, except that there wasn’t blood on his hands. Only the running tap of that other monster’s sink and the sweat and other unspecified fluids on the floor.

He couldn't recall what else they said during the meeting; all he knew was that he spent the rest of it curled up in a ball.

Chapter Text

“…Grover? Are you awake, buddy?”
The blurry white room became clearer as Grover looked up from his lap, and up towards Amelie. The receptionist was the only one left in there; Dr. Tadeo and all of his patients left minutes earlier. 

“I was getting pretty worried that something happened to you,” Amelie kneeled down to the level of the sitting monster, “I kinda assumed that you were alright at first, but… You’ve been like that for awhile.”
“I… I know…” Grover mumbled as his attention drifted towards the ceiling instead. 

“I get… It’s a little rough hearing it all firsthand,” Amelie sighed calmly, “Getting thrown into that world right away with very little preparation for it ahead of time isn’t easy. It’s okay; you’re going to be okay… In fact, you’re doing pretty well for somebody who hasn’t had any prior experience with the topic.”
“..Amelie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure; what is it?”
“…Can I have a hug?”

Without saying anything else, Amelie wrapped her arms around Grover’s sides as he remained curled up on the chair. The two of them barely knew each-other, yet that simple request for a little bit of comfort made him just a little bit better. While a hug wasn’t going to bring back the carefree attitude he had before he was assigned to sell the S Candies, it was enough to allow him to relax his legs and slide out of the ball he had created for himself.

“It’s a Welcoming Hearts policy to give everyone hugs when they ask for them,” Amelie explained, “Patient or not, everyone needs a bit of support now and then.”

Grover sighed as the two of them broke away from their hug. His tense breathing had eased up, and he felt ready to at least face Amelie again. He still wasn’t sure about the world at large, but he knew that he could at least rely on her in case he decided to come back to Welcoming Hearts as a volunteer.

“I… I feel so grateful,” Grover wasn’t sure how to thank her. 
Amelie smiled back at him, “Thanks.”

Once it seemed like he recovered a bit from what he heard earlier, Amelie sat down in the chair next to him and worked on some of the paperwork Dr. Tadeo left behind for her. Grover leaned over to see what she was working on. It didn’t seem like anything too out of the ordinary; just a chart recapping how the group therapy session played out earlier.

“There have been a few questions on my fuzzy, little mind…” Grover said as he continued to watch Amelie fill out the chart.
“Like what?” She asked nicely. 
“Are there more pro-active ways to help? I was a safety monitor on the streets once before. Surely, there has to be position like that on your team…”

“It’s a nice thought, but we don’t have the resources to make a position like that,” Amelie explained, “Not only are we struggling to fill the positions we already have available, we aren’t able to add new ones either. There’s already an overabundance of rehabilitation resources in the Greater Harlem area; it would be hard to convince the locals there that there needs to be vigilantes watching the streets just to stop a bunch of shady transactions Not to mention, the neighborhoods in Upper Manhattan might reject that proposal outright…”

“But what if I hired myself to do that job on my own?” Grover asked.
“You’d still need years of studying and expertise so you’d know what to look for,” Amelie pointed out, “Even then, the drugs won’t disappear entirely because you’re out there cleaning up the streets. The groups and individuals who sell them to people will simply find a way to resume what they were doing…”

He nodded sadly as the hopes he had faded away. He had firsthand experience with how Mike and his crew worked; if it seemed like the police were nearby, Lefty often pulled him out of the way. Afterwards, there was some charismatic, well-thought out excuse from Lefty that was filled with half-truths and other little details that seemed legitimate at the time.

Dr. Tadeo’s words played in the back of Grover’s mind as he thought about it more…

“They only say that to secure certain locations because of territory disputes, and to maintain the illusion that they aren’t the ones dealing drugs.”

If there was one thing that Grover could say for certain at that point, it was that the company he worked with maintained a lot of illusions. If they weren’t lying about what the S Candies actually were, they were lying about how certain critics of their business mysteriously disappeared, or how they never discussed where certain batches of money (that weren't there previously) came from.

Amelie sighed, “To be honest, you’d have to really know what you’re doing for that plan to work at all…”
“I know…” Grover mumbled in disappointment. “…But I want to at least not lose that sense of hope that makes me feel like I could do it."

Grover aimlessly stood outside of the Welcoming Hearts Rehabilitation Center as its front door closed behind him on its own. On the outside, the rehab clinc didn’t even look all that different from all of the other storefronts and brownstones that surrounded it; yet, the smoky air outside and cloudy skies above him didn’t seem as pure as the world that he just left behind. 

“Hey, bud…”

“L-Lefty!” Grover panicked.
“Surprised to see ya here…” Lefty slipped out from the right side of Welcoming Hearts’ brick exterior and walked over to Grover.

Grover took a step to the side and attempted to move around Lefty. Before he could walk away too far from him, a cold hand firmly wrapped itself the edge of his shoulder. His fur stood on edge as the rest of him became frozen in place, unable to head elsewhere or do anything else. 

“…You suspect something's up, don’t ya?” Lefty asked as he slowly guided Grover away from the rehab center.
“What? Me suspecting anything? That is just silly!” Grover shook his head, “I have a reason to be here!”
“Riiiight…” Lefty replied, slightly amused by the answer he received.

Grover wasn’t sure whether he wanted to sigh in relief, or burst out screaming. Even though he liked Lefty as a person, the fact that he could easily figure out what he was up to at Welcoming Hearts unnerved him immensely.

“Well… You see…” Grover shuffled his right foot against the ground, “I… Well…”
“For starters, I know that you don’t have a problem,” Lefty said, “The boss has always made it very clear that he doesn’t hire addicts. If you couldn’t stay away from the bottle, he wouldn’t even have considered you for the job.”
“Well, that would be awfully rude of him, would it not?” Grover retorted back. 
“If you knew how precise he has to be with the money he earns, you’d feel the same way,” Lefty crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Grover.
“I do not even know what he does half of the time!” Grover threw his hands upwards, “I never hear anything about what his role is; it’s just ‘Lefty and Grover, go do this task that I tell you to do’, no questions asked!”

Lefty shook his head, “If ya onl-- Never mind that. We knew you’re clean and that’s what matters right now. You’ve got no reason to be in rehab.”
“Then why do you care about me going there so much?” Grover asked in between hard breaths. 
“I s’ppose I don’t need to hide the truth about the S Candies from you anymore, do I?” Lefty glared at him. 
“You should have told me that upfront!”

Lefty let go of Grover’s shoulder; he staggered forward, unaware of how his body could move on its own again. 

“Now look, Grover, I’m only gonna tell you this once, so you better listen,” Lefty grumbled, “Keep askin’ questions like that, and the only place you’ll be going is to sleep with the fishes.”
“Oh wow, the aquarium…” Grover rolled his eyes, unaware of what that saying meant, “I am so terrified. I am trembling in my fuzzy little boots at the thought of spending time with the angelfish…”
“Like you’d be seein’ any angels there…”
“Listen, Lefty, you have not given me any reason to trust you, and not find the answers for myself,” Grover told him, “If you do not let me in on the stuff we’re actually doing it, I will only start to wonder if you are hiding anything else...” 
Lefty opened his trench-coat; aside from the brown suit he was currently wearing, there was nothing inside of it, “There’s your answer.” 

Grover shook his head in disbelief and began to walk away from Lefty. Despite putting on a strong facade to keep the salesman off his back, he still felt hurt by the truth. The stories he heard during the group therapy session haunted him too much to immediately trust his boss and co-worker right away. At the same time though, there was side of him that hoped that he and Lefty were just having a disagreement, and that both of them could move on from it afterwards.
A part of him still wanted to cling onto their friendship; even in the face of their differences, they could still like each-other. Even though the rational parts of his mind cried out “Amelie’s nice too; you can trust her?” and “Don’t you miss Kermit?”, Grover still felt most comfortable around Lefty specifically. He wasn’t sure why, but perhaps it was because he struggled to maintain a long-distance friendship with Kermit, or the fact he wasn’t able to trust Amelie after what happened just before they met…

Anyone else who came close was too distant for him to reach out too anymore…

“…Do you really mean that, Lefty?” Grover asked, his eyes wide after his facade faded away. 
“I’m your friend, aren’t I?” Lefty smiled; it didn’t seem very genuine. 
Grover sighed, “I-- …You are.” 
“Then why wouldn’t I worry when you start actin’ weird and do things I wouldn’t expect ya to do?” Lefty asked back. 
“I could ask you that same question…” Grover narrowed his eyes at Lefty.
“You should know what to expect from me by now,” Lefty replied as he closed his coat back up, “But since ya still don’t seem to understand, how about I tell ya about a little thing called ‘omertà’?”
“...What’s that?” Grover titled his head. 
“It’s a code ya ‘oughta know about,” Lefty began, “It’s about humility and honor. Loyalty and--"
“Yes, but there has got to be more to it than that. It can not just be a series of words.”

“Well, it’s about not betraying your friends, and remainin’ silent in the face of those who ask about ya,” Lefty explained, “If ya go to the rehab center and start braggin’ about everything ya do there, you’ll get others get involved in matters that we could easily handle ourselves. If you truly have an issue with the S Candies, why don’t you take it up with the boss instead? You wouldn’t go up to us and start tellin’ us about the rehab’s problems, would ya?”

The speed that Grover walked at slowed down as he began to think about it. If he remembered correctly, Amelie suggested that Welcoming Hearts could hire “those nice guys in the suits that say they want to protect us”, only for it to be shot down by Dr. Tadeo immediately afterwards. If he asked Lefty about it, would that be a violation of omertà too?

"...No sir."

"Riiiight," Lefty nodded in agreement, “What I’m telling ya is that you’ve gotta reconsider what you’re doin'. I get the feeling that you mean well, but you don’t realize that you’re playing with fire by messin’ with the boss and his plans...”
“Alright, alright! I’ll reconsider it...” Grover grumbled, “Just tell the boss that I like some of our other tasks more...”

In actuality, he wasn’t reconsidering it; he just wanted to get Lefty off of his case. Even though he still felt hurt by everything that had happened, all he wanted was to not be bothered about the S Candies for the rest of the day. Yes, he was aware that the drugs were still a massive problem – especially for the customers they were selling it to –, but he also knew that he couldn’t win every battle...

...It was just easier to save that energy for tomorrow when he’d have to sell them again.

Chapter Text

Money is an actor that hides its face behind two different masks. One day, it could help you build a house that puts a roof over the head of the less fortunate. The next, it could help you buy an anchor to keep your darkest secrets underwater.
Money was especially good at the latter; it was something that Grover slowly learned as he watched how Lefty and Mike operated on a daily basis. Although he had over reasons to stick around at just current job, none was any more persuading than the reason why he agreed to it in the first place; to pay for the rent on his apartment.
He could ditch the S Candies. He could ditch the shady trench-coat. He could even try to swallow his emotional pain and deep insecurities and ditch Lefty…

What Grover couldn’t ditch was the money the boss paid him. Even though he and Lefty referred to them as paychecks, it always struck him as odd that he never received them that way; Mike often just handed him hundreds of dollars without saying anything. In fact, it was usually a hundred or so more than he was paid waiting tables back at Charlie’s Restaurant.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was at least enough to pay for his living expenses and then some.

The bags inside Grover’s coat rustled against him as he emerged from an alley and returned to Sesame Street. As far as he was concerned it was a typical day at work; he already met up with Lefty, and was on his way to sell the S Candies. The only difference was that he had a plan up his slee-- Er… Coat, technically.

The plastic bags the tablets usually came in were switched out for similar ones, with similar bags containing jelly beans, small squares of gum, and a few additional sorts that he thought would interest his consumers. (No chocolate, though; it would have melted too quickly in his coat.) It wasn’t the easiest or most practical plan in the world, but simply buying candy out of Alan’s store and reselling them wasn’t going to work;  he had to go to another candy store after his unexpected encounter with Lefty the day before. (Even then, it had to be a few hours later and on the Upper East Side for good measure.)

Grover hummed a tune loudly to himself as he waited for a few customers to pass by. As he happily mumbled to himself about taking tomorrow and dipping it in a dream, two customers that he recognized from his first day of work approached him. One of them was the light blue man in the sweater he met first, while the other one was the gray monster that collided into him on his first day of work. 

“Oh, it is you two again!” Grover began to open his coat. 
“Hello there, candy-man,” The man waved back, “Got anything good for us today?”
“Yeah; how’s it hanging?" The monster chimed in.
“Oh, it is going great!” Grover replied cheerfully, “I have got some new stuff in stock that I know that you would love to see!”

The two customers turned towards each-other and wondered out loud about what Grover had in store for them. The monster suggested the possibility that he was going to carry stronger S Candies, while the man seemed a little more skeptical; in his opinion, he expected it to be white powder.
After a minute of struggling to open his coat (due to the newer candies making it heavier), Grover was finally ready, “Behold! The most amazing treats that you will ever eat!”

The gray monster and the man both narrowed their eyes; they were in complete disbelief at what they saw. The S Candies weren’t replaced by bags of cocaine or other varieties of ecstasy; instead, it was just column after column of normal, everyday candies that they could get legally.

“…Is this some kind of joke?” The man scowled.
“If it is, you’re not very funny…” The monster pointed out. 
“Why, I assure you; it isn’t a joke,” Grover grabbed the sides of his coat and pulled them closer to him, “A wide variety of candy is what keeps a business nice and healthy. After all… You guys would get sick of the S Candies one day, would you not?”

Apparently not. The next thing Grover knew, he felt the back of his head hit the pavement as the other monster angrily pinned him onto the ground. The man – who was the same size as Grover normally – towered above him with a cold glare in his eyes that sent chills down the sales-monster’s fur.

“Listen, buddy, don’t even think about messing with our candies!” The monster spat down at Grover’s face, “You don’t understand what those things do for us. If I find myself without them for even one day, there will be hell to pay…”
“…Y-You do not have to be--” Grover felt lucky that none of it ended up in his eyes.
“Match, stop,” the man chimed on, “You don’t have to go that far; I think he’s got the message…”

The gray monster, Match, adjusted herself off of the ground and stepped back over to where the man stood. Grover, still on edge from being tackled, crawled away backwards from them as the spinning feeling in his head slowed down. Like the last time Match caused him to land there, multiple bags of candy had fallen out of his coat and haphazardly scattered onto the street below.

“But, Boris…” Match mumbled.
“He’s hopeless. If you think I feel like shit now, just look at him,” the man gestured towards Grover, “The daylights were scared outta him. Just be glad he didn’t pull a blade or a gun on us like some of those other salesmen have…”
Match looked back down at Grover, who stilled shivered in place, “…A shame. He was really nice to us to.”
“Yeah,” Boris nodded, “Say… How about we see if that previous guy still comes around here.”
“Righty?”
“Riiiight,” Boris laughed. The name of his last dealer apparently didn’t stick with him, but the way he spoke did.

The two rejected customers walked away from Grover, both of them laughing on the way out like hyperactive parrots. His jaw hung open, unable to close back up from the shock; not only did his plan go worse than he expected, he ultimately just ended up sending the two of them back to Lefty. All he could do now was hope that they wouldn't start babbling about what had occurred to him earlier.

“…Grover?”

A startled scream flew out of his mouth as he heard somebody call out his name. His rapid breathing slowed down as he made eye contact with who it was; it wasn’t Lefty, but someone he dreaded even more than him…

Someone round and blue.

“What on Earth are you doing out here?” The blue man offered Grover a hand and pulled him back up. 
“I-It’s just you,” Grover sighed once he saw that it wasn’t anyone he recognized from his current job...

…It was someone he recognized from many of his previous ones.

“…Just me?” The man raised a bushy brown eyebrow. 
““For a second there, I thought you were my boss,” Grover bowed down to pick up all of the bags that fell out him earlier, “...Anyways, it is so great to see you, Mr. Johnson! I have been so anxious lately! I--”
“I can see that,” Mr. Johnson observed him closely, “It’s a little weird seeing you try to sell things out of a coat, though…”

Grover turned his head and looked back up at Mr. Johnson. The worry on his face was clear as he adjusted the striped tie around his neck; while the man was far from the worst person he ever met, he was also the person he disappointed the most. Countless incidents at Charlie’s Restaurant and other businesses made the two wary of each-other whenever they crossed paths. To see Mr. Johnson so concerned about him was a surprise; he honestly expected him to be angry again.

“…Is everything okay?” Mr. Johnson continued to stare at Grover’s coat, “I know you weren’t always the best employee, but seeing you hit lows like this…”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Grover smiled back nervously, “This is just my current job. It might not look that much but it makes me happy… Happy enough, at least.”

Mr. Johnson looked down at the bags on the ground that Grover didn’t get around to picking up yet. His squinted his eyes as he tried to make out the contents in them; the red squares of gum seemed questionable, and the sugar had rubbed off of the gumdrops and gathered towards the bottom of the bag.

“…Are those drugs?” Mr. Johnson asked skeptically. 
“Why, nooooo, sir” Grover chirped, “It is just normal, everyday candy.”
“Well this doesn’t look like the stuff I’d buy at Mr. Hooper’s,” Mr. Johnson pointed out.
“You-- You see, I get it elsewhere,” Grover lied, complete with fake zeal that hid how nervous he was, “I import the candy in from the Upper East Side, and I bring it down here, and I sell it to everyone. It is pretty great; the kids love it!”
Mr. Johnson looked at Grover suspiciously, “Ah, sure, the kids love it…”

Grover grabbed the last bag of candy off of the ground and stood back up. As he stretched a bit (from spending so much time on the ground or bending over), he noticed that Mr. Johnson had crossed his arms. The blue man shook his head and sighed, almost as though he was disappointed in him. 

…And if Grover had to be honest to himself, he felt the same way.

“You see, I am doing this to keep myself in a good position business-wise,” Grover adjusted the sides of his jacket closer to him, “Now, I am not sure if you know this, but the candy business is notoriooously competitive. This is simply the latest trend in selling your candy to the masses. You have seen others around here doing the same thing, have you not?”
Mr. Johnson rolled his eyes, “I have. The candy they sell didn’t even taste good.”
“Well, it is a shame that you are not a fan of sour candies then,” Grover covered his hand with his mouth once he realized it that sounded like something Lefty would say. 
“For your information, I happen to like SweeTa-- Hey, wait a minute!” Mr. Johnson quickly caught onto what was happening, “You’re not selling any sour candy today!”
“And how would you know?” Grover asked. 
“Because I saw what fell out of your bag earlier,” Mr. Johnson pointed out, “It was more of those tablet thingies!”

Grover froze in place; apparently, even Mr. Johnson had a run-in with one of the other “candy dealers” at some point. If he was able to recognize what the S Candies were like from sight alone (and potentially taste as well), it didn’t bode well for their conversation. 

“I-I know you’re thinking of something else, but they’re not sour candies,” Grover tried to remain calm as he opened the side of his jacket where the red pieces of gum resided, “You see, not only is this gum, I also have other candies that you might enjoy. Have a look!”

Mr. Johnson’s eyebrows rose back up as he inspected the wares inside of the sales-monster’s coat. Once again, it was actual candy as far as the eye could see; there was not a single bag of ecstasy inside of it.

“…Hey Grover, what flavor of gummy bears are those?” Mr. Johnson asked.
Grover nodded and pulled out a bag of orange and white gummy bears, “Irish Cream. Perfect for the adults out there who need a night to themselves.”

Mr. Johnson rubbed his chin as a smile slowly developed on his face. However, it faded away just as quickly as his eyebrows curved inwards. Even though they didn’t say anything to each-other, Grover recognized how concerning the situation was. If it wasn’t because of the truth and how he often sold drugs instead, it would have been about how he ended up with that job in the first place.
“How much for them?”
“Five dollars.” 
“That’s expensive for one bag of candy…” Mr. Johnson pointed out, “Especially one that isn’t in actual packaging. What is that even in; one of those bags you store sandwiches in?”
“I have to transport otherwise unwrapped candies around somehow,” Grover explained, “Plus, I am a one monster business; my prices have to be a bit high to support myself…”

Mr. Johnson dug through the pocket of his pants and pulled out a leather wallet. As he looked through it for the five dollars he needed, Grover watched his every movement in anticipation and a bit of dread. He couldn’t believed that worked, especially on Mr. Johnson of all people… If there was one person who was inherently distrusting of Grover, it had to be him. 

“Here,” Mr. Johnson handed Grover his money, “Here’s your five dollars. Just hand me the candy, and I’ll be on my way to Charlie’s to get lunch. Without you messing it up for once...”
“Here it is, sir,” Grover handed him the gummy bears in exchange, “If I am not there to serve you, then hopefully you will at least enjoy the dessert I gave you instead.”
“…I never said that I was having them right away.” 
“Oh, okay,” Grover nodded, “That is fine too, sir.”
“Anyways, before I go, I’ve got something to say…” Mr. Johnson slid the gummy bears into the pocket of his blazer.
“What might that be?” Grover looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not really sure what you’re doing with yourself, but it worries me. I just hope that you’ve at least got a roof over your head, because even someone like you shouldn’t be out here selling things this way...”
“..Me too, Fred. Me too.”

With that, Mr. Johnson was on his way to Charlie’s Restaurant like he said he was. Grover only watched silently as his latest customer left; the only reason he even bothered to stop by was because they knew each-other. They didn’t trust each-other, but they were familiar with each-other enough that they would have talked about a major change in either of their lives. If that weren’t the case, Mr. Johnson would have walked past him without earlier without saying anything else. 
A sinking feeling developed inside of Grover; even though Mr. Johnson didn’t trust him to begin with, he still felt like he betrayed him. In fact, he feel like he betrayed a lot of people the same way. 
He betrayed Boris and Match when he sold them their first bags of candy, only to switch out the S Candies they wanted for real candy instead. He betrayed Dr. Tadeo and Amelie when he said that he wanted to help, yet turned around and went back to sell drugs – albeit, fake ones – again like he did before. He betrayed Alan by running around in the trench-coat on the street, and he betrayed Elmo and Abby by suggesting that kids liked his drugs. He even betrayed Lefty by switching out the S Candies for something else after their meeting earlier that day. (Although he didn’t regret that one nearly as much as the other ones.)

But most importantly, he betrayed Sesame Street itself.

Luckily for Grover, the only thing hungrier than his conscience were the customers he encountered later that day. As it turned out, Amelie’s statement about neighborhoods like Sesame Street being filled with “unsupervised kids” and “adults who tend to forget about the world outside of Manhattan’s nicest parts” was absolutely true. Originally, he wanted to believe that everyone he encountered by now knew better, but instead it only made him more nervous...

No wonder why Lefty’s sales were so good.

“That… That is something else! I am oh-so glad that you sold a lot of stuff today.”

Grover and Lefty looked at each-other. Both of their sessions came to an end, and both of them wanted to know how the other performed that day.It was business, after all; they had to know, so Mike would be able to know. There was no hiding the truth, yet their proud grins hid the narrow glares they gave each-other when one thought the other wasn’t looking at them. 

“Not even just candy either,” Lefty smiled. “I even managed to sell a couple of empty boxes today.”
“Empty boxes?” Grover laughed, “I did not know we even had those on hand.”
“How do you think we get those candies in?” Lefty asked sarcastically, “The boss always has them on standby. Even he’s amazed to hear that it works; makes his job of disposing them a lot easier.”

Although Grover nodded in agreement with him, he had to admit it was a weird way to dispose a box. It was especially ridiculous considering that Mike had told them about how close he was with Bruno, Sesame Street’s resident garbage man. Why did he need Lefty to take care of the boxes? Was Bruno too busy handling everything else?

“Now… Less about me, and more about you,” Lefty said, “How was work, bud?”
“Oh, it was… Great?” Grover’s mouth wavered in confusion, “Some stuff worked, some did not, but I did sell a bunch of the candies like you asked me too!”
“Riiiight,” Lefty grinned.
“Let me show you,” Grover opened up his coat, “See! Barely anything left!”

Unlike Grover’s first day of work, having a suit underneath meant that Lefty didn’t have to look away from him that time. However, that only brought further judgment upon him; his co-worker’s eyes carefully scanned every empty row for any leftover bags, full of S Candies or otherwise. (Which is why Grover made sure to prepare ahead of time by switching out all of the candy he sold for the bags of S Candies that he stashed away when work first started.)

Of course, that was most of it. Only one bag of S Candies was next to him; all of the other ones were disposed of earlier. (Albeit, not in the same way as the empty boxes.)

“And only one left to show for it,” Lefty congratulated him, “The boss would be proud of you, Grover.”
“Aww, you are too kind,” Grover blushed; it couldn’t be seen from beneath his fur, but he certainly felt the heat warm up his cheeks. 

It was almost time for them to go see Mike and have him handle their money for the day. However, that day had other plans, as Lefty was the one who counted it right there and then.

“The boss says that you’ve got the rest of the day off,” Lefty explained, “There’s supposed to be a holiday comin’ up. I don’t know what’s happening, just that the boss wants me to stay late to help him.”
“How come?” Grover tilted his head.
“He never tells us these things,” Lefty shook his head and smiled in frustration, “All I know is that he probably wants me to take care of that rabbit over the weekend or somethin’.”
“That sounds like a very important job.”
“Riiight. Believe me; the boss would have someone’s head if they even looked at it funny...”

“Aside from that, do you have any other plans soon?” Grover asked, partly because he wanted to know if Lefty was up to anything else, and partly because he still wanted to spend more time with him. 
“I, uh… Can’t,” Lefty replied, “Gotta get to his office. He needs me and stuff.”
“I.. I see,” Grover felt his sloop downwards, “...I guess I will spend tonight by myself. B-but that’s okay. I can do lots of things when I'm alone.”
“So do I,” Lefty nodded.

Those were the last words Lefty said before he left. Their conversation did not end with a “goodbye”, but a mutual acceptance that they both were going to spend that night alone. Sure, they had company they could rely on to some extent; Lefty had the boss and his pet, and Grover could always dial up Kermit if he felt too lonely. Even then, that still wouldn’t have done anything to ease up the sadness within him...

“I’ll see you again tomorrow!” Grover quickly blurted out. He hoped that would have been enough for Lefty to look his way, but that only caused the salesman to scurry away and slide around the corner even faster. If there any remaining thoughts or concerns on his mind, they wouldn’t have been able to be answered.

Grover sighed. Why would Lefty want to spend time with him anyways? They have been on rocky terms since they ran into each-other near the rehab center. When people had disagreements that important, they usually don’t want to hang out and get something to eat while they were out. Even friends sometimes needed small breaks apart to calm down and think clearly. To expect Lefty to agree with him seemed naïve; he already had work obligations too...

The cold plastic of the one remaining bag rubbed up against his suit. Grover forgot that it was in there; he was too busy moping to notice it. As it continued to irritate him, he finally pulled it out and looked at it. Apparently, Lefty must have forgotten it was in there too; he certainly didn’t ask about it before they split.
It was strange. Grover remembered that he threw away most of the other bags earlier. By now, the only one who had them was probably Bruno. The S Candies were bright against the monster’s dark fur, and seemed oddly appealing to him; perhaps it was because of his stomach, or perhaps it was because he could relate to how lonely some of his customers and the patients at the meeting he attended were. 

...He needed to figure out what to do with it.

Chapter Text

Grover looked closer at the bag of S Candies in his hand. They looked tempting, yet his craving for them died down as he remembered why they weren’t…

Those little candies were far too dangerous. He didn’t know how many to take, or if even one of those was safe to try. Amelie said that they originally had some use in therapy, but Grover didn’t know anything else beyond that; self-medicating with unfamiliar pills was a terrible idea, and the way it devastated everyone he saw there was proof of that. Like him, many of them felt lonely, betrayed, and hopeless from the world around them. To someone like them, even the smallest bit of artificial happiness would have seemed like a good idea at the time.

No wonder why Bert didn't want Ernie to take them… Ernie was one of the happiest people he knew! Even thinking about it was enough for Grover to wish that he had a friendship as caring as theirs. If only Kermit never left… If only he knew where Amelie goes after she leaves for the day… If only Lefty were available that night…

…If only he could trust again.

That same lack of trust sparked an idea in Grover's mind. It wasn't that great of one; he doubted that his boss would appreciate him going behind his back and messing with his operations. Yet, given all of the trouble and secrecy that he and Lefty dragged him through, it only felt natural for him to keep a little secret of his own away from them. He was going to get rid of the last "unsold" bag. After all, how much would Mike care about one bag of drugs? Businesses had losses all of the time; why would that shady one that Mike ran be any different? If even Lefty forgot that it was there and that he was supposed to do return it, who could say that anyone would hold him up to that exact same standard?

Grover scanned the area around him closely. The sun was sinking in the sky, and all of the monsters and humans passing by him looked to be either returning home or heading to the other two neighborhoods for some late-night fun. Everyone seemed preoccupied by the thoughts in their own heads, and the cheery conversations they had with each-other; Grover knew that it was the perfect time to make his move, and he couldn’t waste anymore of it. He channeled his inner shady salesman as he stealthily dashed between the buildings across the street and behind groups of people leaving. His back brushed up against the rough edges of where he needed to be, and let out a deep, withheld breath.

It was time to take out the trash.

Grover leaned over the smooth top of the stucco dumpster enclosure and clasped his hand around the lid. Because the bag of S Candies was balled inside his other fist, he was having problems retaining his balance; he had to act carefully, lest he either lose them or fall into the trash himself…

“What’s with all that rattling up there!?”

The sudden shouting sent Grover cowering backwards as the lid of the trashcan rattled in place. Two angry eyes peered at him from underneath it as a scruffy arm covered in moss-like fur pulled the can’s top off, and a scowling head took its place.

“Listen, kid; the trash collector was already here today. Stop tryin’ to bug people who want to stay up late, and fuck o--” The head’s hairy unibrow flattened as he saw who was nearby. “…Oh, it’s just you.”

Grover caught onto the edge of the dumpster enclosure and took a closer look at the guy who resided there. He had forgotten that was where Oscar lived; he was so focused on making the candy-switching part of his plan work out that he didn’t consider stopping by a trash-can that didn’t have a Grouch living inside of it.

“Please, Oscar, this is important,” Grover’s voice trembled.

“If it’s so important, why don’t you show me what you wanna throw away so badly?” Oscar leaned his arms over the edge of the can itself.

Grover’s hands shook reluctantly as he unfurled the last bag of S Candies from his fist. His breathing became sluggish and heavy, fearful of how Oscar was going to react to it. He knew that the Grouch was a naturally skeptical person; know if he'd be arrested, if his employment would be questioned, or if he'd even be snitched out to Mike and Lefty specifically. and there was nothing Grover knew about him that he could have used to calm him down...

“…That’s ecstasy, isn’t it?” Oscar asked as he looked closer at the pills in Grover’s hands.

“I--” Grover’s eyes shot open in surprise. “Wait, how do you know what that is?”

“What can I say, I’ve been around here for awhile,” Oscar shrugged. “I mean, have you ever said it’s nickname out loud? ‘S Candies?’ Ecstasy?”

“…Have you tried it before?” Grover whispered, still off-guard from what Oscar told him.

“Yeah. People even drop it off here sometimes… Would you blame me for wanting see what the big deal is?” Oscar partially raised his unibrow.

“Well, no, but…”

“It doesn’t even do anything to us Grouches,” Oscar answered. “In fact, no kind of drug does. The fact we live in trash all of time gives us some sort of immunity to the chemical shit it gives you guys. We can’t even have coffee in the morning to cheer us up; not like we’d want that anyways.”

“I see--”

“But that’s not the point,” Oscar interrupted, too interested in his own rambling about Grouch physiology. “The humans aren’t even affected by it half the time when they have it, unless you count them being obnoxious and cheery. You monsters and those other small guys get even worse about it... Hell, the only reason we Grouches don’t even bother with it anymore is because douchebags keeps mixing rat poison into it.”

“Wait, RAT POISON!?”

Grover wasn’t sure how to react. He had previously asked himself “what do they put in there” many times before, but he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Needless to say, the thought of an actual biocide chemical being mixed into it didn’t sit well with him.

“The problem is, you can’t really taste it…” Oscar explained. “These things taste more bitter and soapy than you’d expect from something called ‘candy’. And I’m not seeing a bunch of people dropping dead over here, so I’d take it that these S Candies in particular don’t have anything weird mixed in them…”

“Please do not tell me you are going to try them…” Grover’s jaw shook with concern.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Oscar tilted his head sideways.

“No… No, sir.”

“Good. I was gonna tell ya to shut up, but something tells me you’ve been getting that a lot lately …”

“Thanks, Oscar…” Grover glared at the grouch across from him. He wasn’t sure if Oscar knew that he worked with Lefty a lot. After all, the dumpster enclosure was right next to the apartment he lived in and it wasn’t far from where they both met up before their workdays either. Either way, the insult he just received cut through him deeply. (Although that was expected from Oscar; he was always good at tearing people down.)

“I aim to please,” Oscar smiled back.

“I-- Never-mind any of that. Do those drugs really not even taste like candy?” Grover asked. “I heard that they were supposed to taste like SweeTarts.”

“First off, that is bullshit,” the grouch shook his head slowly. “The guy who told you that was clearly lying to you… Also, where did you even get the drugs from anyways? That suit on you looks suspiciously new too…”

“…From work,” Grover answered.

Oscar looked at him, stunned by the answer Grover gave him, “I was-- I was joking earlier, but-- Don’t tell me you’re actually working for who I think you’re working for?”

It was time for Grover to come clean and tell someone the truth. The monster leaned over into Oscar’s ear and whispered to him about what he had been doing the last few weeks. He told him all about the guilt he felt and the pressure that was on him to stay silent, and about how there were never clear answers about anything he heard from his co-worker or boss (without naming them, of course).

“...I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’re in,” Oscar stared at him, wide-eyed and paranoid.

“W-what do you mean?” Grover was on the verge of panicking himself.

"Those guys have an iron grip on Sesame Street,” Oscar explained. “I know you’ve only noticed it with all of the drug jobs you’re getting, but their connections run deep. Even dropping them off here is gonna get you on the trash company’s radar, and in return, theirs. The only reason I’m even allowed to live here because I promised I wouldn’t say anything about them.”

“I-I” Grover stuttered, shocked by yet another revelation that he should have realized sooner. The one time that Lefty actually told him the truth, and it was about the connections Mike had to the garbage industry.

Oscar grabbed the lid of his trashcan and put it over his head as though it were a hat that obscured his identity. The grouch’s scowl began to wavered as his eyes darted around the neighborhood.

“Just be glad that the coast is clear…" Oscar nodded towards Grover. “I was getting worried that one of ‘em would be nearby. A lot of the stuff I’m about to tell you needs to remain a secret. If you slip up at the wrong time, both of us are gonna be dead meat.”

Grover gulped and leaned in closer to Oscar. The scent of garbage around them somehow ended up being the least concerning thing on his mind; everything he learned only made him feel worse about he was doing. Both of them were trapped in hell, and the only thing that Grover was able to make sense of was the mutual misery they shared.

“Here’s the deal. You can drop off the S Candies here just this once, but don’t do it again after that,” Oscar said. “I know that you threw other stuff away somewhere else, but the money you made from that real candy you sold will fool them; it’s the exact same amount you would have made if you actually had the S Candies on you.”

“But what do I do instead?”

“Anything else. Play innocent. Learn to lie better. In fact, use any grouchy, throat-cutting tactic you can think of. Nice ones like going to the authorities will get us all investigated, and I’m not gonna let my grouchy keister rot in a grave next to yours. Bruno helped me get ahold of this place, and I’m not betraying him so you could run around and play Super Monster until his boss gets around to killing you eventually. It’s not going to work, and you need to change your methods if you want Sesame Street to go back to being… Ugh, joyful.”

Oscar sighed as his eyebrows wearily dropped lower. “I don’t tell a lot of people this, but I really do care about this place. Everyone’s either getting too huggy-feely or dead and emotionless, and I can’t stand it. Even the fact that, you, you, ‘fuzzy sickeningly-cutesy pal, Grover’ are getting involved in their business scares me.”

“It terrifies me too,” Grover nodded.

“I don’t even like the way things are heading, and the last thing I want to see are pests like you feeling the same hopelessness and dread I do,” Oscar continued, “I’d love to pick up my trash can and make a run for it, but I can’t. I actually like how safe Sesame Street is. And as much as it hurts me to admit, I don’t want to see it go away either.”

Oscar started to lower himself deeper into his trashcan. Although Grover couldn’t see it, the sound of rattling stairs reassured him that the Grouch had more than enough room to hide the S Candies away from any peering eyes that passed by the dumpster enclosure he resided in. Even as he vanished, the lid on his head rattled back into it’s place on the trashcan itself.

“Oh, and by the way,” Oscar peeked his head out of from beneath it. “There’s one more thing that I want you to know...”

“What is that?”

“If you run into Lefty at some point, stab him for me. He upcharges you when you ask him about the trash he’s selling.”

The loud clattering of the trash-can's lid made Grover shudder as Oscar disappeared again. It’s appearance wasn’t the only thing that was grimy anymore; everything he experienced for the last few weeks felt like it had the same brownish-green stains dripping down it. While it felt nice to just let it all out and find out that his and Oscar’s lives intersected, the fact they were both in the cross-fire of something larger only made his despair grow worse.

How many others were involved? How many others felt the same way? Was everyone else who knew Mike okay? Were they fine with waking up with blood on their hands everyday?

Grover balanced himself along the dumpster enclosure's barrier and groaned; it seemed like the was no way out of his situation. If even someone like Oscar regularly crossed paths with them, then how much of Sesame Street did they control? How many of his past jobs were fronts for the S Candies and other, strange rackets that were worse than they seemed upfront? How many of his other jobs were even connected to their business!?

He had a memories of seeing a blue man in a pinstriped suit talking with Charlie in the backroom at his restaurant. He sometimes even listened in on their conversations about business while he was upfront, waiting on the customers and making sure they received their food. Originally, he always thought that it was Mr. Johnson formally complaining about how his order, but now he wasn’t too sure…

It seemed like no matter what he did, it wasn’t possible to escape the watchful eyes of Mike and all of his associates.

The stoop of 123 Sesame Street was only a few feet away from where Grover stood. The thought of going back to his apartment and hitting his head against the pillow for the night was the only thing that Grover felt like doing. He dragged his tired legs across the sidewalk and nearly reached the first step when the crunching of paper beneath him caught his attention. A jolt of heightened fear shot through him as he stepped backwards to see what it was; it turned out just to be a comic book that someone left behind at some point.

He sighed as he looked at it from above and let out a sigh of relief. What was he so worried about? It wasn't somebody's limb, or a bag of S Candies that came back to haunt him; it was just something that needed to be dropped off at the lost-and-found section on the apartment complex's main floor. Grover picked up of the ground; the thin comic felt limp in his hands as he took a closer look at it. It was simply titled The Monster Marvel, and there appeared to be an armor-clad superhero on its cover. To him, it seemed like something that belonged to Ernie or Elmo; he had a feeling that they would appreciate it if he returned it to them. And if belonged to someone else in the neighborhood? They could always come inside and check if any of the lost-and-found boxes had it. (That section served a useful purpose for the entire neighborhood, after all.)

However, the was something about the comic that continued to haunt him once he made it inside. He wasn’t sure if it was the cool design that The Monster Marvel had, or because it was strange to find a superhero comic during one of his lowest points; all Grover knew was that he sat down on the carpeted staircase inside and began to skim through it…

That issue of The Monster Marvel turned out to be lot more interesting than Grover expected it to be. Apparently the guy also went by the name "Lawson Monster" and actually had a job similar to his own. Outraged by what he saw happening around him, Lawson took up the mantle of a superhero by cleaning the streets at night while keeping an eye on suspicious activity during the day. What Grover found especially surprising was Lawson's razor-thin, precarious balancing act. His desire for kindness and justice came into physical and verbal conflicts with the men in suits and trench-coats he surrounded himself with. Even as Lawson was forced to make bad decision after bad decision, he always found a way to turn things around with his Monster Marvel identity. (And on one occasion in the book, it didn't even involve violence, but an act of charity that helped out those targeted by the bad guys.)

Needless to say, it was pretty clear by the subject matter that it wasn’t one of Elmo’s comics...

A warm feeling of hope grew in Grover’s heart for the first time that day. He didn't expect to find himself relating to the hero of a comic that he found lying on the street minutes earlier; yet, Lawson's life was similar enough to one he had that the very real idea of inspiring change stuck with him.

Who said that he couldn’t fix his own mistakes? Who said that it wasn’t going to be possible to fix things from the inside? The Monster Marvel certainly didn't. If anything, a new spark of inspiration lit up inside of him as he thought about how to keep the days sunny, the air clean on Sesame Street, and try to fix his friendships with all of the people (...Or at least most of them, Mike and Lefty possibly withstanding) that he felt like he betrayed...

…He just hoped that his inner "Super Grover" trusted him enough to pull it off.