Disclaimer:Shifty and Lifty are copyright Happy Tree Friends. Happy Tree Friends are copyright Rhode Montijo, Kenn Navarro and Aubrey Ankrum.
I don't really know why I had this idea. I love Flippy- I love his complex personality – but I love Shifty and Lifty too. They are simply lovely. So I chose to write something on the two brothers.
Thanks Littlelinor for correction. THANKS HER!
Reviews are good for my poor and really low self-esteem.
Summary – "I… trust my brother. More or less."
Category – Happy Tree Friends
Lifty was always uncomfortable when he had to work with somebody that wasn't his brother.
He didn't know if he could trust the other one. He had to watch that everything was alright and that nobody was stealing his money.
Then he had to be sure, completely sure, that while he was talking with somebody the other happy people in the city wouldn't steal his things. He had to understand if the others lied. If they didn't lie, then he had to understand if mattered enough listen to them. He had to be sure that nothing could hurt him.
Lifty never really understand if he was too cautious or just paranoiac.
He knew only that with his brother he didn't have all those complication. He didn't have to understand if his brother lied or was saying the truth, if he wanted to harm him or help him. He knew his brother.
Every time, Shifty left Lifty behind to run away with the money. Every time, Shifty didn't even think to help Lifty. Every time, Shifty did everything to bring the money and not share it with Lifty.
And when, for the umpteenth time, Shifty had throw Lifty away in the useless attempt to save his life, the last rancorous thought that Lifty had before be shattered by a psychotic kitty was that the only thing that he could trust in his life was that he couldn't trust his brother.
Shifty never really cared about the horrible deaths of his brother. When he noticed that he could be torn apart by a random monster, be hit with a chair 'til was only a puddle of blood and powdered bones, be eaten by every wolf or flipped-out green bear in the country, and still the day after he was in his bed completely unharmed, he simply stopped to feel any sorry for the random deaths that happened all around him. Even when was his brother who died at stake.
As for his own death, well, that was another story. He noticed that his death wasn't eternal, but it still hurt like hell. The simply fact that the day after he was healthy didn't make him a masochist.
And at times he just wanted to return home and lie in his bed with all the limbs attached at his body. Or at least still alive.
Anyway, seeing that Lifty was alive every morning no matter what was happen the day before was for Shifty a relief. He could, in fact, focus on what really mattered and not in trying to save his brother life.
So when he had to choose between Lifty's life and the money Shifty knew, without even thinking, that he had to choose the money. Lifty the day after was at home- the money not.
The fact that really annoyed him was that everyone began to understand that he would put the money before their life, so every day it became harder find anyone who could help in his plans.
Everyone was always more reluctant to help him, and when somebody helped him he had to watch out and be sure that the other wasn't going to betray him.
And that was the second reason he was always happy to find that his brother, every morning, was alive again.
He could do everything to Lifty. He could kill him, leave him at Splendid, could steal his money and leave him die and still, the morning, Lifty just pouted and followed him.
That was a matter of trust.
Shifty could trust that his brother trusted him. And even if he thought that was the proof that Lifty was a fool, Shifty couldn't not be happy about that.
- -/\- -
Lifty & Shifty
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the angry face of his brother, Lifty.
Shifty didn't really want to know how much time his brother had been waiting for his awakening. He knew, even if it was only a feeling, that had to be there for hours.
Shifty moaned, closing his eyes again. The day before he hadn't even reached the evening- He died around 4.00PM, ripped, stabbed and powdered in what was probably the best work of Flippy. And even if he was, like always, alive, his body hurt like hell – something that wasn't like always.
Shifty rolled in his bed choosing that if he had to die even that day he would die sleeping- but suddenly a pot hit his head.
He grabbed his head, in pain, and the last clear imagine he had was his brother that burst out and jumped on him.
When everything went clear again the first thing he noticed was that his body was crushed under something.
The second, but most important, thing that he noticed was the horrible weakness he felt. His eye hurt and his chest was worrying- but, well, all his body ached so he didn't really know what was damaged and how bad.
Lifty was on Shifty, immobilizing him. He was mad at him, judging his face.
Shifty was strangely happy when noticed that he probably defended himself very well: Lifty was panting and covered of bruise that, he knew, would probably hurt like hell. He restrained a pleased giggle, however, reasoning that wasn't the best moment for laugh at the brother.
Lifty had a knife, and was pressing it against Shifty' throat. He had to press just a little more and Shifty was sure that his head would roll on the floor.
They never needed to talk to understand each other. Maybe it was because they were twins. They simply had the same thoughts and the same ideas, and it was always easy, for a brother, to know what the other was thinking.
That time, too, Shifty knew what was the matter, even if Lifty hadn't spoken a word.
He wanted revenge. Shifty, the day before, had thrown Lifty away in an attempt to save himself, and so had caused his brother a horrible and slow death by piranhas, alcohol, salt and acid.
It was obvious that Lifty would be angry at him, but still Shifty was astonished. And, in a strange way, sorry. He didn't like that his brother would kill him for something like that.
That was… surprising. In a bad way.
Shifty sighed, trying to ignore the pain at his chest or the knife against his throat.
"Afta' lunch, 'ight?"
Shifty was surprised by his own voice, a weak and tired plaint that, however, sounded more like an order than a plea.
Lifty narrowed his eyes, thinking on it.
The first thing that Shifty did when the brother rolled on the bed, freeing him from his weight, was cuddle up in a vain attempt to calm down the pain.
He felt weak and aching, and the angry stare of his brother didn't help him. He needed to sleep, even if he probably would wake up the next day in blood covers.
Lifty lied down near his brother, choosing that he felt too weak to get up and return in his room. Obviously, he keep saying in his mind, Shifty would pay for those bruises and that weakness too.
When Shifty looked again at his brother's face he couldn't help but only sneer. His brother was pouting. Wasn't angry or mad, was just pouting.
Lifty repeated the pledge, and Shifty just nodded, closing his eyes.