#glad I put that off lest it be outdated on release

[bvannn]

Oh god oh fuck it’s happening

[softupshur]

The Follow-Up (sequel one shot)

It’s the follow-up that nobody asked for!

This is a sequel to “Sullivan, you ARE the father!” so if you haven’t read that one, you should check it out so this one makes sense.

Ao3 link if you’re into that kind of thing

Daytime television hasn't been the same since Maury's untimely death. Though the media blames faulty wires on set for the incident, you know better. You're one of the few who saw the final episode through its one and only airtime. Everyone tells you it was just a nightmare, that the episode is nothing more than an urban legend, yet you still hear the twang of the banjo when you close your eyes.

Dr. Phil and Jerry Springer now reside in the empty time slots, but there comes a day when you turn on the TV to find Maury smiling through the designated audience applause. You rub your eyes once, twice, three times, but Maury's visage remains. At first, you dismiss it as a rerun, but as you reach for the remote, you catch a pair of familiar faces.

Sullivan and Otis sit on Maury's couch. In their rustic attire, they look largely the same from their initial appearance, though Otis is visibly shaken and sporting bandages over his left eye.

"It's good to see you two again," Maury says, though his brow furrows at Otis. "But looks like things have been a bit rough in Temple Gate. You okay there, Otis? Something happen?"

Otis opens his mouth to reply, but Sullivan speaks over him. "He fell down the stairs." He puts a hand on Otis's shoulder. "Isn't that right?"

When Maury looks to Otis for confirmation, he lets out a shaky laugh. "Yeah...the stairs...clumsy me."

His answer placates Sullivan so Maury can continue. "Now the last time you two were on this show, we were here to find Seth's father and give him a family."

The screen behind Maury switches to Seth backstage. His bowlcut is still horrendously off-center, but you smile as he waves to the camera anyways.

A blip of static cuts out the first few words of Maury's following statement. You really do need to get that outdated TV replaced. "--revealed that Sullivan was the father."

The show cuts to a clip compilation of the previous episode. It's just as you remembered. The curiously untitled book, the CD's roasting over the fire, the glint of the hunting knife. The final moments are conspicuously absent.

"And since then you two have been working through your differences to raise Seth together. Give us an update on how that's going."

Once again, Sullivan talks over Otis's attempted answer. "I hate to say it, Maury, but the boy hasn't been pulling his weight."

The scandalized gasps of the audience give Otis the courage to rise from his seat. "I'm not pulling my weight!?" He points an accusatory finger at Sullivan. "I'm the very backbone of our house and you know it!"

Sullivan snarls. "Sit, child! Lest I exorcise you again!"

That shuts Otis up as he rejoins Sullivan on the couch.

It's Maury who speaks on Otis's behalf. "Now, Sullivan. Let's take a moment to look at Otis's side of the story. If this relationship is going to work out, you're going to have to listen to what the other has to say." He turns to Otis. "Now what do you mean about being the 'backbone of the house'?"

"Well, Maury. Not only do I take care of Seth all day, I also do all the cooking, all the cleaning, and all Papa does is sit on his fat -bleep- all day watching trashy daytime television!"

"The boy is speaking in tongues!" Sullivan declares. "I can't be expected to care for a household, when I am granted charge over my flock. It's no sin for a man to seek rest in his own home. For even God rested on the seventh day."

"That's a load of bull," Otis grumbles.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"You see this insolence, Maury? The child has lost all sense of decency and goodwill and try as I might to correct him, I am forced to seek outside help."

"Hmm...let's see about that," Maury says, cuing a new video.

The camera focuses on a wooden house. It sits in the middle of barren desert and uneven terrain. As the crewman walks to the door, it opens to reveal Otis emptying out the dustpan. His unruly hair is tied back in a bandana and he's wearing an apron. He still has both eyes.

"Glad you made it." He leads the cameraman inside. "Now I can show you what I have to put up with."

The camera pans through a living room littered with children's toys and white tablets as the TV plays an obsolete soap-opera.

Otis rushes over with the broom to sweep up the tablets collected in a small pile by the couch. "I've told him at least a dozen times that if he's going to eat in the living room to use a placemat. Is that really so much to ask? I just want some order in this house." Rather than empty out the dustpan, Otis takes it to the kitchen and opens up a cabinet filled with dozens of prescription pill bottles. You recognize a handful like Xanax and Oxycontin, but many are unknown to you.

Otis removes a few of the bottles and undoes the child safety caps. He sets the dust pan on the counter beside the collection, and observes each pill before placing them in their proper containers. "You see what I'm dealing with? And is anyone around here to help? No! It's all me!"

"Who ya talkin' to?" Seth trots into the kitchen. He tugs on Otis's apron first then gasps at the camera. "Hi Mistah Cameraman!" He reaches for the screen with muddy hands. If not for Otis pulling him back, he'd have dirtied the lens. 

"I'm so sorry. Please excuse me for a moment." Otis drags a protesting Seth to the sink and the camera pans to the door. A low rumble sounds on the other side before it flies open. In the frame stands Sullivan.

"Where's dinner!?"

Back to Otis.

"Coming right up!" Otis releases Seth and rushes to the stove, frantically firing it up and fishing through the pantry. "Now as I was saying--"

"Who're you talking to in there!?" You could hear the chair's strain as Sullivan plops into it.

"No one, Papa!" Otis's tone is considerably hushed when he continues. "Anyways, the old man is eating us out of house and home." He slams the pot on the stove. "He had 12 eggs yesterday. 12! Do you know how hard it is to keep up with that kind of demand? I asked all over the place, but all anyone had was six. And that's not even taking me and Seth into account. I'm just short of having to do highway robbery to keep this house afloat!"

"Keep it down in there!"

A half-empty wine bottle whizzes past Otis and shatters against the wall.

A flurry of bleeps ends the video as the camera fades to the present-day.

"Well, Sullivan." Maury leans back. "What do you have to say about all that? It looks like Otis works very hard around the house. Don't you think it'd be nice to show a little appreciation?"

Sullivan throws his head back and laughs. You swear you could smell the stink on his breath as he wheezes. "Do not be swayed by the wayward child's filthy lies. For he knows not of what he speaks."

"And you think you could shed some light on this?" Maury asks.

"Naturally. When you see my side of the story, you'll realize that the Lord tests me by way of placing this insolent wretch in my path." He's seething now.

"Now we'll see about that."

The camera cuts back to the same desert home. Sunken in an armchair, Sullivan addresses the camera. He holds a bottle of wine in one hand and at least a dozen pills in the other. 

Seth is wrestling with the child safety cap of the Vicodin in the background.

"He doesn't get the damn pills right. I'll tell you that much." Sullivan shoves the pills into his mouth and washes it down with a swig of wine. You wince as it dribbles down his chins. "Now you see these two capsules." Sullivan holds up two identical pills. "One is Xanax and the other for my Oxycontin."

Seth throws the bottle against the wall as Sullivan explains the supposed differences between the pills.

"I even labeled the damn boxes so he doesn't strain his simple mind."

The camera zooms in on the bottles labeled in bold sharpie.

"So pray tell why I found these both with the Morphine." He finishes off the wine and drops the bottle to the floor. He doesn't bat an eye as the glass shatters. "Mark my word, the boy is trying to send me to an early grave."

Seth is now jumping up and down on the bottle to no avail.

"And don't get me started on the food."

The scene cuts to Sullivan seated before a feast fit for a king. Slabs of juicy meat are piled on top of each other, mashed potatoes overtake half the plate, rolls are precariously balanced in the mix, and freshly cut vegetables scatter the servings. Three large plates are required just to hold everything. Sullivan's eye narrows at Otis and his meager servings.

"Child, are you trying to starve me out?" Sullivan bites into a chicken leg.

Otis sighs. "No, Papa."

"Then how do you expect me to get by on such scant portions?"

"Uh…"

Before Otis can respond, Sullivan snatches a roll and chicken leg from his plate. "Wretched child…"

The show returns. Maury has his chin in his hand, as if in deep thought. 

Sullivan and Otis stare intently. Even the audience is silent as they await a response.

You only release your breath when Maury speaks.

"You both make compelling arguments, but if we're going to settle this, we're going to have to take a trip backstage. Let's see what Seth has to say about this." Maury motions for the camera to follow him backstage where Seth is jumping up and down on the couch. "Heya, sport."

"Hi Mary!" Seth bodyslams the couch when Maury sits beside him.

"Are you happy to be back on the show?" A glint of red appears in Maury's eye. It must be a reflection of the camera.

"Uh-huh! This couch is way bouncier than m'bed at home!" He gets up to resume his jumping, but Maury places a hand on his shoulder to settle him.

"Hold up, lil guy." Maury coughs into his sleeve. "We want to ask you a few questions about your family."

"Okie-dokie!"

"So what do you think of your home now that your dad is in the picture?" Maury's voice drops as he speaks.

"I love it lots!" Seth hops to his feet. "I have a mommy AND a daddy now! Thanks Mary!" He throws his arms around Maury and you jump at the inhuman scream that follows. The lights flicker before shattering. For a moment, the screen is completely black until the camera switches to night vision. In the haze of green and black, you watch Maury's eyes roll to the back of his head. His face contorts beyond the realm of human possibility and he hisses as he lashes at the camera with newly-grown claws.

The camera falls to its side and you see Seth's shoes as he picks it up. He lifts it just as Sullivan and Otis rush in.

"It's as the Lord prophesied! That child is of The Enemy!" Sullivan points to the camera. "Its unholy power has granted the demon dominion over its vessel!"

Maury lunges towards Sullivan, but recoils as he holds out his jewel-encrusted crucifix. "Spirit of our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Most Holy Trinity--" He pauses to shout over his shoulder. "Don't just stand there! Get me my gospel and my shotgun!"

For once, Otis doesn't protest as he rushes off-camera to fetch the untitled book and a shotgun. You no longer question where he got the shotgun.

Sullivan takes the firearm and aims at Maury. Though he fires straight through the heart, Maury continues to writhe and hiss. Blood gushes from his eyes as Sullivan keeps him at bay. "Get me the holy water!" he shouts at Otis. "The evil is strong with this one!"

"But we didn't bring any!"

"Any water will do! I need only bless it under my name!"

Your ears are ringing from Maury's screeching.

"Hurry!"

"Where am I supposed to find water!?"

"Oh! I know, I know!" The camera bounces with Seth. "It's in the lil fridge! I'll get it!"

As Seth runs to the backstage mini-fridge, you hear Otis and Sullivan offscreen.

Otis is sobbing. "We can't keep doing this."

"Silence! "Sullivan snaps. "Our being here is no accident! We were sent here by the Lord to combat this evil! Do you shirk the Lord's will!?"

"But Papa!"

As they bicker, you're confined to Seth's view of the mini-fridge. Though he grabs a small water bottle, he also takes a root beer float and personal ice cream. He toddles back to Sullivan and hands him the water before returning to his post. He sets the camera down as Sullivan blesses the water bottle.

Otis crumples to his knees and weeps.

Root beer sprays everywhere and cascades over the camera lens while Maury howls.

The TV cuts to commercial.

You bury your face in your hands.