Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Happy

Chapter 1:

It was a bright summers day at the park, and a group of 7 odd groundskeepers were being briefed by their boss: a gumball machine known as Benson.

"Alright," he said sternly to his employees, "we've got a lot to do today, so listen up. Skips, I need you and Pops to clean the park petting zoo stables." The white yeti and the lollipop-shaped man he was addressing left their spot on the park-house steps to do their job.

Turning to a short, dwarfish green man and his ghost friend, he continued; "Muscleman, High Fives, you man the snack bar. Take Thomas with you and teach him to use the register"

"Aw man, snack bar with that loser?" Muscleman said harshly, motioning to the shy goat next to him.

"Suck it up Muscleman," Benson said curtly, "someone needs to train him, and you're the best mentor we've got."

"Whatever," he replied gruffly, getting up and heading off, "I better get paid overtime for this."

"You won't be!" Benson called after him. Turning back to the house, he addressed the only two employees left: a tall, lean Bluejay named Mordecai, and a short, scruffy-looking Raccoon named Rigby.

"As for you two," he said, slightly angry already, "you still need to clean the park ballroom from your little 'TGI Tuesday' stunt, and then you can clean the cart."

"Aw what!" Rigby said angrily, "We cleaned the cart 2 days ago!"

"Yeah Benson," piped in Mordecai, "It can't be dirty again, can it?"

"Well after yesterday's crash," the gumball said, face starting to redden in anger, "It could use a little TLC!"

The two shut up at this, remembering how they managed to land the cart in several sand traps and a shallow pond while 'maintaining' the park golf course the previous day. Groaning childishly, the pair got up reluctantly and brushed themselves off.

"Wait, before you go," said Benson, a little calmer now, "I forgot to tell you. Its tax time again, and instead of risking another audit like last year, I've decided to hire Don to handle the books again."

"What?" Rigby shouted incredulously, "Are you crazy? Why would you do that? OW!" silenced by a sharp jab from Mordecai's wing, the tiny raccoon looked up into the face of his enraged boss. "On second thoughts," he said, gulping, "I think I'll just stay out of the way."

"Good," Benson said, leaving to patrol the grounds, "Because if I catch either of you two messing with Don while he works, you're FIRED!

"Come on dude," said Mordecai, opening the garage door to reveal an especially filthy golf cart, "We've gotta finish this before Benson gets back."

"Ugh, fine." Picking up a wet rag, Rigby stretched his back, trying his best to scrub the cart's hood. Finally giving up, he threw the soaking rag in frustration, yelling childishly as he did so: "Dude, this is so lame! Lets just go inside, Benson won't even know."

"Okay," Mordecai said, feeling lazy himself, "But just for a few sodas. Benson'll be back soon."

Just as they were walking around to the front of the house, Don's bright red convertible pulled up.

"Quick!" Rigby urged, hastily pushing Mordecai up the front stairs, "Get in the house before he sees us!"

"Rigbone! Mordo!" said a masculine voice from behind the two. Turning to face the speaker, they saw a tall, very human-esque Raccoon standing with outstretched arms. "Sugar?" he offered cheerfully.

"Don!" Mordecai said brightly, walking towards him, Rigby in tow. "Hey, man. What's up?" accepting Don's 'sugar', aka hug, the two broke the friendly embrace.

Turning to Rigby, the taller mammal said: "Hey big bro. Long time no see! Sugar?"

"Hey Don," said Rigby gruffly, shrugging off the offer.

"So Don," said Mordecai, "How long are you gonna be here?"

"Not long," He replied. "I'm just here to do the taxes. It'll probably be just a day or two."

Just as they were talking, Benson walked up, anger apparent in his bright, red dome. "Mordecai, Rigby!" he scolded, "Why aren't you two working?"

"Oh, um, hey Benson," the Bluejay stuttered nervously, "We were just greeting Don. We'll go back to work now."

"Whatever," said the gumball machine, quickly forgiving the two slackers, "Just finish cleaning the cart already. And Rigby, stay out of Don's way. I wont have a repeat of the last time." Pointing to the tiny Raccoon to add emphasis, he dismissed the pair.

Later that day, after Mordecai and Rigby had given up cleaning the ballroom, the two sat at the kitchen table of the park house, drinking soda and talking about the latest video game release. After a heated argument about which console is better, they were joined by Don.

"Hey guys," he said in his usual, cheerful manner.

"Shouldn't you be doing the taxi's?" asked Rigby rudely, blatantly mispronouncing 'taxes'.

"Rigby, cut it out," Mordecai scolded, "remember what Benson said?"

"Actually," said Don, ignoring his brother's snide remark, "I was about to take a break. Do you know a place where I can get a cup of coffee around here?"

"Sure we do!" said Mordecai, enthusiastic about a chance to see Margaret, a red robin who worked at the boys' favourite coffee shop. "It's just down the road, like, ten minutes from here." Turning to the shorter mammal, he asked: "Are you coming, Rigby?"

"Heck yeah!" he said, glad to be leaving work. "But lets hurry up before Benson sees us." Scanning the park grounds in front of them for signs of the angry gumball machine, the three rushed to the now clean cart and took off quickly towards the front gate and the coffee shop.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

By the time Mordecai, Rigby and Don made it to the coffee shop, they were parched. It was a hot day, and the sun beat down on their furred and feathered heads as if someone in the sky was pointing a giant magnifying glass in their direction. Walking through the door with a ding, the three were thankfully met with a blast of cool air.

“Aaaah,” sighed Rigby contentedly, “man that’s good. Screw the coffee, lets stay for the air conditioning.”

Scowling at his tiny best friend, Mordecai scanned the interior of the café for Margaret, surprised to find her absent. Oh well, I guess it’s her day off today, he thought, shrugging it off.

While the Bluejay was deep in thought, and Rigby was in a state of pure bliss caused by the air vent above him, Don found himself staring, transfixed on a certain young waitress who had appeared from behind the counter.

“Hey, Mordo buddy,” he said, nudging the bird back to reality and pointing at the mystery girl. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Eileen,” he replied. “She’s a friend of ours.” Hearing their voices, the small brown mole turned her head to see the three taking a seat at their usual spot.

“Hey guys,” she greeted perkily. Walking over to take their order, she noticed Don was staring at her. “Umm, hi?” she said awkwardly, unnerved at the stranger’s fascination with her, “have we met?”

Suddenly remembering himself, Don jumped to his feet to greet Eileen properly. “Hi, I'm Don. It’s nice to meet you. Sugar?” he offered her a hug, which she confusedly accepted.

“Eileen, nice to meet you.” Breaking away from his strong arms, the mole looked up to see the raccoon’s face. “Wow,” she said, “you look just like Rigby. Only, taller and more … muscular.” Realizing what she had said, Eileen blushed a deep shade of red, and stuttered, “Oh, um, sorry. I didn’t mean to say, I mean I hadn’t meant to, umm-”

“Whoa,” Don interrupted, “Calm down little lady, you might talk that pretty little mouth right off.”

Blushing again at the compliment, she put a tiny paw on Don’s muscular forearm in an attempt to flirt with him. Seeing the amorous contact, Rigby started slightly. What the H is he doing? He thought. How can she be falling for this lovey dovey crap?

“I’ll go get you guys some coffee,” she said leaving to get their drinks, elated by Don’s remarks.

Waiting until she was out of earshot, Rigby turned to Don angrily. “Dude, what the H?” he said, pissed, “What are you doing?”

“What?” asked Don, confused, “What did I do?”

“Dude, not cool,” said Mordecai, “She’s Rigby’s girl.”

“Yeah! Wait, what?” said Rigby, spinning around to face the Bluejay. “She’s not my ‘girl’. We’re just friends!”

“Oh,” interrupted Don, “then you won’t mind me asking her out then?”

Don had Rigby trapped, and the younger raccoon knew it. If he said he had a problem with Don and Eileen dating, then Mordecai would know that he likes her, and he’s worked way too hard to keep that secret. On the other hand, if he said nothing, then they would go out, and the raccoon could think of a hundred reasons why that should never happen.

His thoughts were interrupted when Margaret walked over to them, a tray of coffee in her wings.

“Hey Margaret,” said Mordecai brightly, already forgetting the sibling quarrel and turning his attention to the pretty red Robin. “What's up?”

“Hey guys,” she said half heartedly, clearly tired. “Sorry I didn’t take your order, I've been so busy with school lately that I've had to get Eileen to cover most of my shifts.”

“Where is Eileen, anyway?” asked Rigby, trying to sound nonchalant.

“She just went on break.”

“Well in that case,” said Don, getting up from his seat and handing Margaret a note. “Could you give that to her please? I should probably get going.”

“Umm, okay?” she replied, confused.

After Don had left, Rigby snatched the note from her wings and hastily read it.
“Hey!” she said angrily, “that’s Eileen’s note, give it back!”

The Raccoon handed her the note with a sullen look on his face and left without a word. Puzzled, Margaret forgot herself and looked at the small piece of paper.

“What does it say?” asked Mordecai, curious. It wasn’t like Rigby to just leave without an explanation.

“Nothing, really,” she answered, “It’s just his phone number.”

Sighing, the Bluejay got up and said: “I better go after him. Bye Margaret.”
“Bye, Mordecai.”

Mordecai really didn’t want to leave so soon; he hadn’t even finished his coffee. But he was Rigby’s friend, and as much as he denied it, the Bluejay knew he cared about Eileen.

Chapter Text

Rigby left the coffee shop and started to walk towards the Park. The weather meant the streets were virtually deserted, and he found himself panting after a few blocks.

"Rigby!" a familiar voice called out. "Wait up!"

Turning around, he saw Mordecai slowly following him in the cart. "Dude, what are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like," Rigby replied curtly. "I'm walking home."

"In this heat? Come on dude, get in the cart, I'll drive you." Smiling a little, Rigby jumped into the passenger seat and Mordecai took off. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Rigby said curtly.

"Rigby!" he said sternly, "You're not fine! You just left the coffee shop in the middle of our break. I had to pay!"

"I'm fine, okay?" the Raccoon snapped, leaning back into his seat and out of Mordecai's view.

"It's about Eileen, isn't it?"

Not getting an answer, he continued, "Look dude, all Don did was give her his number. Who says she'll even ring him?"

"Oh please," Rigby said, giving in, "She was all over him!"

Sighing in frustration as he pulled up to the park house, Mordecai turned to face his short friend. "Dude, get over it! What is your problem? You go around treating Eileen like crap, and now that there's someone who could actually make her happy, you're jealous? She deserves a person to treat her right, and that's obviously not you!"

Looking up into the face of his angry friend, Rigby let out a sob and ran towards the house. Mordecai never yelled at him like that, not unless it was a life or death situation, and to hear his best friend basically tell him that he's an asshole was too much.

Mordecai instantly felt bad, but it had to be done. Parking the cart in the garage, he started to doubt himself. Did it really need to be done? He thought. I mean, I know he was an ass at the start, but he had been nicer to her lately. Plus, Rigby never yelled at me when I was jealous. Ugh, I better apologise. Walking up the stairs towards the boys` shared bedroom, he heard Rigby softly sobbing from inside. What a baby, he thought as he creaked open the door and peered inside. The Raccoon was hidden under his dirty clothes pile, his striped tail sticking out.

"Look dude," the Bluejay started, "I'm sorry. I was out of line, and I shouldn't have said anything. It's fine if you're jealous of Don. It’s not like it’s your fault or anything, I guess."

"Go away," Rigby sniffled, his voice stifled by the clothes. "I'm not jealous."

"Rigby, I said it's cool. It's not like it matters, just admit it."

"I'm not jealous!" he yelled childishly, emerging from his bedcovers to face Mordecai.

"Yes you are!" the bird yelled back. "If you're not jealous then how do you explain you leaving earlier?"

Burrowing back into his dirty clothes, Rigby waited for Mordecai to leave, not giving his friend an answer.

"Whatever, dude," Mordecai sighed, "I'm going to the arcade."

After Mordecai had left, Rigby cleared his trampoline and sat on it, thinking.

I can't believe Mordecai thinks I'm jealous. I'm never jealous! I know I can't tell him the real reason why I'm pissed, but what the hell am I supposed to do? Something that Mordecai had said buzzed around in his head.

Someone who could actually make her happy.

What does Mordecai know? Don can't make her happy. But is she even unhappy, anyway? Rigby knew that he was a jerk sometimes (even he's not that stupid), but Eileen was different. She was the only one he knew besides Mordecai that put up with his crap. She was special. She deserved to be with someone who made her feel that way, and that someone right now was Don. Aw crap, he thought bitterly, slipping out of consciousness and drifting off to sleep, this is gonna suck.

Chapter Text

The next day was just as hot as the last, and the groundskeepers of the Park were pissed to say the least.

“Ugh, this suuucks!” whined Rigby. “Can’t we just go inside already?” Lying under a shaded tree, the Raccoon closed his eyes and leaned back against the cool bark.

“Rigby!” Mordecai scolded. “We’ve been out here for like, 10 minutes! Come help me rake these leaves before Benson catches you slacking.”

“Whatever dude, I'm out of here.”

Watching his friend pick himself up and head for the house, Mordecai sighed and returned to his job.

Back inside the house, Rigby sat on the couch and turned on the game system. “D-d-d-d-d-d-Dig champs!” the monitor blared. Settling in to the middle cushion, he picked up a controller and began to play.

After about an hour of failure, the Raccoon threw his controller angrily. “Man this stinks! This game is too hard to play alone!” thinking, he decided to text Eileen. After all, she was practically a pro at Dig Champs. Pulling out his cell phone, he began to type.

R-Hey Eileen. Need your help on Dig Champs.

E-Sorry Rigby, I can’t talk right now, I'm busy.

Busy? Rigby thought incredulously. When is she ever too busy to help me?

R-Busy doing what?

E-I'm at the movies with Don. Talk later, bye

Rigby let the phone slip from his fingers onto the carpet below him. They're dating?

“Rigby!” Mordecai called from downstairs, “Where the H are you?”

Ignoring his friend, Rigby nestled into his clothes pile, tearstained eyes clenched shut. Suddenly the door to their bedroom slammed open, and Mordecai’s impatient voice could be heard.

“Dude, not again! Come on, I thought we talked about this yesterday?”

“They’re dating, dude.”

Sensing the grief in his words, the Bluejay sighed, sitting down next to Rigby on his trampoline. “I know it sucks dude, but it’ll get better! Come on, its game night tonight. Let’s go downstairs.”

Sniffling, the Raccoon sat himself up and followed Mordecai downstairs.

“Took you two long enough,” said Benson as the two entered the living room. Noticing Rigby’s disheveled fur, the gumball machine spoke up. “Rigby, are you okay? You look like hell.”

“I'm fine,” he grumbled curtly, “lets just get this over with.” Looking around, he noticed Don, sitting in the corner with Eileen on his lap. “What's he doing here?” Rigby questioned, motioning to his younger brother.

“He is an employee of the park, and as such he's invited to game night,” Benson answered impatiently.

“Hey Rigby,” Eileen greeted, unaware of the tension between Rigby and Don.

“Yeah, hey.” Sitting down next to Mordecai and Muscleman, the six plus Pops, Skips, Thomas and High Five Ghost set up the game board to play scrabble. As the night went on, Rigby became more and more aware of Don’s hand, slowly creeping up Eileen’s legs and finally coming to rest at her waist.

“That’s it,” the smaller raccoon said suddenly, “I'm outta here.” Scurrying up the stairs, he stopped only once to glance at Eileen’s face, confusion etched across it.

“Is he okay?” she asked Mordecai.

“He's fine,” the bird lied, “just, umm… sick. Yeah, sick is all.”

Unconvinced, Eileen left the room and ascended the stairs after him.

“Rigby?” she asked, peering through the half cracked doorway to find him sitting on his bed. “Are you okay? Mordecai said you were feeling sick.”

“Eileen!” he jumped, scattering dirty clothing across the large bedroom. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Sorry, I just came to see if you were okay.” The Mole walked over to Rigby’s trampoline, timidly seating herself beside the Raccoon. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Of course, just umm… not feeling well.” Eyes on her worry-strewn face, Rigby sighed, guilt filling him for distressing her. I’m such an ass, he thought bitterly. “Eileen, are you happy…you know, with Don?”

“Of course I am,” she replied, taken aback by Rigby’s random question. “Don’s a really nice guy.” Completely oblivious to Rigby’s sullen demeanor, the Mole sighed contentedly, thinking of her new suitor.

“Isn’t it a bit … fast?” Rigby said cautiously, “I mean, you just met the guy and you’re already sitting on his lap like two teenagers going steady.”

She sighed, her face dropping slightly. “I know, it is a bit fast, isn’t it? But Don is just so charming, and kind, and understanding. I feel like I’ve known him for years rather than days.”

“Just… be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” snapping out of her trance, Eileen furrowed her brow in confusion. What do you mean?”

Should I tell her? He thought. No, I cant. Look at her, she’s happy with him. But what if- no. She’ll be okay. It won’t happen again.

“Forget it. You should go back downstairs before you miss anything important.”

“You’re not coming?” her face softened again, “game night isn’t the same without you and Mordecai joking every ten seconds.”

“Sorry,” he looked away. Disappointment didn’t suit her face. “I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

“Well, okay,” she said, turning to leave. She paused, however, in the doorway, a hand supporting her against the frame. “You know, Don reminds me of someone I see around a lot. But I don’t think he sees me.”

The door closed, and Rigby sighed.