Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pressure pushin' down on me
Pressin' down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure that brings a building down
Splits a family in two, puts people on streets

"Under Pressure" by Queen

It was around the middle of the night when Skips awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He sat bolt upright, wondering who in the world could be disturbing him at this hour. After some grumbling and trying, and nearly failing, to pry Benson off of him, the man could be strong when he needed to be, Skips finally managed to get up out of bed.

Quiet and contentment permeated the air within the golf cart garage that he lived in. Every few minutes Benson would let out a soft snore and flip over to his other side. 

Skips took a few moments to stretch his sleep-locked limbs before skipping on over to the door. He looked out into the quiet night not noticing anything too out of the ordinary. The moon shone bright and full over the vast expanse of trees. And a cool breeze wended its way through his fur. 

Who could’ve knocked on his door at this hour? Was it Mordecai and Rigby? Had they gotten into another situation and needed his help?

A vaguely familiar scent—cucumber and sea spray—invaded his nostrils and he nearly sneezed. Skips wondered briefly who it was. It certainly didn’t smell like either one of them. If anything, it could have been some long-lost friend who finally came to visit only for them to become scared at the very last second. More likely than Mordecai and Rigby.

He waited patiently for the person to come back but after a few minutes decided it was better to just go back to bed and cuddle back up to Benson. But right as he was about to close the door his gaze snagged on a plain brown box on the ground, a letter haphazardly taped to the top of it; his name scrawled across it in bold lettering. With a huff, he picked the box up and took it inside, setting it down on one of his many worktables. 

Skips glanced back at his bed where Benson was still snoring away softly, looking surprisingly peaceful for once. A smile tugged at his lips, and it took all of his willpower to tamp it down before returning his attention back onto the box. He finally sat down and opened up the letter.

Dear Skips,

I know that we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. I know. I know that I should’ve kept in touch but things between Lily and I began to get heated, and my mind drifted further and further away from thinking of you. I’m sorry. It’s been five years. There’s no excuse for that but in the end, it is what it is. 

The reason as to why I am writing to you now of all times is rather dire. I can only say this: Lily has finally used her magic to create a flower capable of putting others under love spells. Essentially, she imbued her power in the pollen. I managed to find the cure as well. It’s currently hidden in my kitchen cabinet. But what’s worse is that she used her flower on me. Me. Can you believe it? I certainly still can’t. In some ways I still love her despite what she’s done to me. Isn’t that messed up? I’m sure you must be disappointed in me and no matter I myself am disappointed by these turns of events. 

But enough about me, I have contacted you in the hopes that you can hide her flower away. It’s in the box. You can keep it, destroy it, plant it somewhere deep into the woods wherever you live, just keep it away from others. Please. Whatever you feel against me, at least do me this last solid. 

Please?

Your faithful, possibly former friend,

Jade.

“Jade?” he whispered into the almost-quiet room. He almost couldn’t believe his own eyes. After not hearing from her for five years, here was a letter detailing the reasons as to why she hadn’t contacted him in so long.

It didn’t make any sense. How could Lily have used her own magic on Jade? The last time he had visited them they had been as close as Mordecai and Rigby, perhaps even closer than that, and now…now Jade was begging him to keep or rather, to destroy Lily’s magical love flower.

A pinprick of fear pierced Skips’s chest. Did that mean that Jade was in danger of being hurt by Lily now that she had stolen her magicked flower and sent it away? Skips shook his head. He didn’t even have a clue as to where Jade lived now. There was no return address on the letter. But maybe, just maybe she still lived in the Giant Forest. 

Or at least, he hoped that Jade still lived there.

He quickly decided right there and then that he would try and find her as soon as he could. But for now, the only thing that he could do was to take a peek inside the box and see what he was truly dealing with at the moment.

Inside of the box rested a giant flower with long, overgrown roots. It reminded Skips of a sunflower but instead of nice yellow petals, instead it boasted funky-colored pastel stripes. Blues, greens, and purples. Skips gasped, understanding hitting him in an instant; those were the streaks of colored dye in Jade’s hair. He deduced that Lily had likely made the flower directly for Jade.  It was definitely a magical flower, even if the colors didn’t scream it, the aura surrounding it certainly did.

It made him a bit sad to realize that was the likely reasoning as to why Lily had put those crazy colors in the flower to begin with. For Jade. Lily had done everything for Jade, even going so far as to make a magical flower to force the anthropomorphic skunk to fall in love with her.

Which, yes, was quite messed up. If he ever bumped into Lily, he would certainly chew her out for it, guaranteed.

The longer that Skips studied the flower, the more that fear gripped his heart like icy talons when he saw it begin to steadily rise up from the box. It looked like a snake rising from its cage. Skips quickly shut the box before it could fully come out. With his heart now pounding against his broad chest, he shoved it under the table and quickly skipped back to his warm bed.

Benson almost immediately wrapped his arms around Skips and nuzzled his face into his bare chest. Skips finally let a smile grace his face despite his rapidly beating heart from the flower nearly getting to him. As he wrapped his arms around Benson, he promised to himself that he would make sure to keep the flower hidden away from everyone else.

“Skips…” Benson mumbled against Skips’s chest, still half-asleep. “Where’d you go off to?”

Skips grimaced. “I guess you could say that an old friend sent me a gift.” He rested his chin atop Benson’s head, and he puffed out a breath, tickling his chest.

“Really?”

“Yep," he replied softly.

“You sure know a whole lot of people.”

“It comes with the territory of being immortal.” Skips said, smiling a little bit at Benson’s remark.

Benson nodded against his chest. “Yep. That makes sense.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

For most of the night Skips stayed awake, thinking things over. Sometimes he would think of what to do with the flower, but other times he would think about Lily and Jade and what to do about them; their magic was dangerous when left unchecked and the proof was in that plain brown box under his worktable. But mostly he was thinking of Benson and just how lucky he got by being with him. 

Eventually though, he managed to slip into sleep. Finally exhausted from all of the tenseness and overthinking.

Chapter Text

I'm taking a ride with my best friend
I hope he never lets me down again
Promises me I'm as safe as houses
As long as I remember who's wearing the trousers
I hope he never lets me down again

"Never Let Me Down Again" by Depeche Mode

The morning came without much fanfare. The sun made its slow path across the cloudless sky. Sunlight filtered in through the dark blue curtains, dappling the wooden floorboards beneath. Mordecai dozed away in his bed while Rigby slept in a pile of dirty clothes atop the small trampoline. All was still and quiet within the house.

Until a heavy knock came upon the door and an all-too familiar voice spoke, “Mordecai, Rigby, we’re having a meeting in fifteen minutes. Make sure that you’re there.” It was Benson. Which meant that it was time to wake up and face the day.

Rigby snapped awake and sat almost upright. The dirty clothes that had once sheltered him from the coldness of the room fell onto the wooden floorboards with a soft thump. Tendrils of sleep still clung to his mind as he yawned and stretched his limbs, trying to banish it. His gaze flickered around the darkened room until it settled onto Mordecai who was still fast asleep in bed.

The familiarity of the situation had Rigby huffing with silent laughter. It reminded him of when he used to crash in Mordecai’s college dorm room three years ago; Mordecai was almost always late to class, either because he straight up just didn't want to go in the first place, or because he had stayed up the previous night playing video games with Rigby. It was fun while it lasted. Until Mordecai dropped out of Art School and the pair had beat around the bush until their current job presented itself.

It was nice to remember the past. Until remembering the past came with the painful memories too. Going back to sleep was a good idea. A far better idea than remembering the past. Remembering the past came with hurt, hurt that he didn’t want to feel this morning. Or really, ever. 

But despite really wanting to go back to sleep, Rigby regretfully decided that it was better to wake up Mordecai and go to the meeting. He didn’t much feel like getting yelled at by Benson today. He walked over to Mordecai, making sure to take light paw steps as he went. Mordecai was laying on his side with his feathery arms curled up against his chest. He seemed pretty peaceful laying there and, with a devious grin, Rigby reached out and poked him in the cheek. 

Mordecai grumbled drowsily, moving his head slightly in his sleep. This only egged Rigby further. He poked his best friend some more until he finally rose up out of bed. Laughter bubbled up in Rigby’s chest at the drowsy look on Mordecai’s face.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake. Just stop doing that, dude,” Mordecai mumbled, his eyes still mostly closed. “Actually, y’know what, I’m still sleepy. Can I just go back to bed?”

Rigby couldn’t entirely help laughing at Mordecai’s half-sleepy nature. “Sorry man, it’s just that Benson knocked on the door. We got to be ready in like fifteen minutes; there’s another boring meeting.”

Mordecai blinked slowly. “Yeah, sure. Sounds cool. I’ll be there.” he said groggily. “I’m going back to sleep.” He was about to flop back onto the bed, but Rigby guessed it a second too early. He pushed up off the cool floorboards using his haunches and pounced onto Mordecai. This sent the two flopping onto the soft mattress. Somewhere in the chaos of the moment, Rigby could’ve sworn he heard Mordecai let out a soft “Oof”, making him snicker in response.

“Wake up, dude! Benson’s going to fire us if we don’t get there in time.” Rigby blurted out. It felt like a colony of ants had been dumped into his fur. This right here reminded him far too much of Before.

“I can’t believe you pounced on me.” Quick as a rattlesnake strike, Mordecai had wrapped his arms around Rigby, pulling him into a tight embrace against his silky chest. “Didn’t we stop doing this in high school?”

Rigby stiffened almost immediately in Mordecai’s embrace. If it had been like Before, he would’ve leaned in and enjoyed it, maybe even rested his ear against Mordecai’s chest and listened to his heart beat a mile-a-minute, fluttery rhythm. But this wasn’t Before. This was Now. And in the Here and Now, Rigby was severely uncomfortable. His breath caught in his throat, and it took everything within him not to kick and kick against Mordecai, to free himself from his friend’s iron grip.

It wasn’t Mordecai’s fault that he was like this. Not at all. He blamed Jablonski. It was all that stupid jock’s fault. Everything seemed to lead right back to that man.

So, with that now in mind, Rigby took in a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and did it until the panic subsided. Once that was accomplished, he planted his paws against Mordecai’s chest and tried to push off and out of his grasp. Of course, Mordecai was a solid wall of silky blue-and-white feathers and lean muscles, so he was completely stuck. Stuck in his best friend’s iron grip.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, he thought, feeling that same panic beginning to rise back up. C’mon Mordo, you got to let me go. I can’t stay here another minute. I’m going to freak and lash out.

Seeing no other way out, Rigby settled on one idea. It would mean hurting Mordecai’s feelings but…it was better than him being scratched and clawed at.

“Hey, hey Mordecai, are you still awake?” Rigby asked, hoping that he could keep the rising panic out of his voice. Mordecai let out a snort in response. “Well, I bet you wish that I was Margaret right now, oh wait you can’t ’cause you’ll never get her in your bed!”

“Maybe I don’t want Margaret in my bed,” came the unexpected reply.

Rigby stopped struggling almost immediately. The panic from before fell once again. Quiet permeated the air within the room. It was so quiet in fact that you could’ve heard a pin drop, if anyone had decided to drop one that is.

Is he…is he flirting with me?! Rigby thought, flustered. There’s no way that Mordecai is flirting with me. I’m going insane, that’s the only explanation.

“...What?”

“Dude, I got over Margaret like a month ago. It wasn’t working out, so we decided to just keep being friends.”

Rigby raised his head up enough to look into Mordecai’s eyes only for them to still be closed. “Are you serious? After all this time you just… gave up on her?” That sounded so stupid. There was no way that Mordecai had stopped having feelings for the female cardinal.

“Yep.”

“No way.”

Mordecai smiled. “Yes way.” Then he added, “What about you and Eileen? How’s that going?”

“She’s awesome to hang out with but I don’t really like her that way.” Because I love you, Mordecai, is what Rigby wanted to say but anytime he tried his throat would close up and he would feel like he was bound to throw up. So, he kept quiet about his feelings. Besides, there was no need to say it and then potentially destroy their friendship.

“So, is there anybody that you like that way or—?” Mordecai was cut off by Rigby pawing his face. “Alright, alright, I’ll shut up, dude. Geez, you don’t have to keep doing that.” Relief raced through Rigby as Mordecai finally let go of him. “Ugh, why do you always got to make it weird?”

“We’ve got a meeting in like…” Rigby trailed off and then shrugged. “It’s probably been longer than fifteen minutes by now.”

Mordecai shrugged. “It’s not like we haven’t been late to all of the other meetings. If Benson wants to yell at us and threaten to fire us, like he always does, then he can go right on ahead.” Rigby watched Mordecai as he preened his feathers. There was something methodical, almost rhythmic about it. This wasn’t the only time he had witnessed his best friend doing it but anytime he did see it, it always mesmerized him. It made him want to run his fingers through Mordecai’s feathers, to feel the silky softness of them.

It was torture trying to shove all of his feelings down. Someday soon he’d tell Mordecai how he felt. Just not right now.

After getting ready, Mordecai and Rigby went downstairs to the living room and then out the front door where everyone else was. Benson looked up from the clipboard in his gray hands, a sour expression flashed across his face as his gaze landed on the duo.

Rigby cringed internally, waiting for Benson to yell at them both. But to his own surprise, Benson didn’t.

“Take a seat,” Benson said. Mordecai and Rigby sat behind Muscle Man and Hi Five Ghost.

“Since it's Sunday, I’ve decided to give you all day off. Use it wisely and please, try not to destroy anything.” A pointed look from Benson was enough for Rigby to realize that he was specifically referring to him and Mordecai. 

It’s not our fault that crazy stuff happens to us all of the time, Rigby thought, wrinkling his snout in disdain.

Everyone besides them cheered. It wasn’t every day that they all got the day off. Mordecai was still blinking the sleep from his eyes and Rigby simply watched everyone else.

“I can see that you’re all excited.” There was an unexpected warmth in Benson’s voice. “The day is yours but don’t go into the wooded area behind Skips’s garage.”

“Y’know who else can’t go behind the wooded area behind Skips’s garage?” Muscle Man interjected. “My mom!” He and Hi Five Ghost high fived and ran off to the cart to do some wheelies in the yard. Rigby couldn’t help laughing at the exasperated look on Benson’s face.

Mordecai nudged Rigby. “Dude, Skips isn’t here.”

“Where do you think he is?”

“Hey, Benson!” Mordecai called. Benson turned around. “Where’s Skips at?”

“He’s busy planting something right now.” Benson replied. “Please, don’t disturb him right now.” Some emotion flickered across his face, but he quickly covered it up with a cough.

Are he and Skips a thing? Rigby wondered. But his thoughts were quickly cut off by Morecai nudging him, asking if he wanted to go play video games.

“Sure.” And they both went back inside.

An hour or two passed by as Mordecai and Rigby played Dragon Tamer, an arcade game from about six years ago that was upgraded recently onto home video game consoles. It was the second in a trilogy of games: Dragon Maker, Dragon Tamer, and then Dragon Wars. Rigby had had his own fair share of arguments with Mordecai over which game was the best. Mordecai upheld the opinion that Dragon Wars was the best, but Rigby firmly kept his stance that it was Dragon Tamer that was better.

Rigby was just about to tame Shathar, Lady of Ice when Mordecai paused the game. Irritation coursed through him as he turned to the smug blue jay. “What the heck man, I was just about to finally get her!” Rigby stood up onto the couch, giving his best glare.

“This game is starting to get boring.” Mordecai smirked. “Maybe we should play Punchies instead!”

Rigby gasped. “No!”

“What?” Mordecai said, confused. “C’mon, we always have fun playing Punchies.” He reared his arm back and tried to swing at Rigby but missed at the last second. 

Rigby let out a clipped growl and swatted at his arm. “I really don’t want to play that game right now!” he snapped. “Besides, you always win! How’s it fun when you’re constantly hurting me?”

“You’re just being lame, dude.” 

Rigby could’ve sworn he saw guilt flash across Mordecai’s face, but it was there and gone within a second. He felt a pinprick of hurt at being called lame but quickly brushed it off. It wasn’t worth an argument.

“Besides,” said Mordecai as he picked up his controller from the coffee table. “You’d lose and then whine about it.”

On second thought, maybe it was worth an argument.

Rigby growled. “I only whine about it because your punches hurt! I get all bruised and in pain for the rest of the day after a game of Punchies.” He had the sudden urge to run up to Mordecai and punch him in the shoulder, to give him a taste of his own medicine, but he was weak. Really weak. Compared to Mordecai, it was like being hit with a pillow.

A horrible thought invaded Rigby’s mind for a split second; what if he only liked Mordecai because he was stronger than him? Jablonski had been the same way. Maybe it was power he craved. A chill crept up his spine. That couldn’t be the only reason…there were other things that he loved about the blue jay. He didn’t like him at the moment though.

“You’re whining again.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are.” 

“I’m trying to explain to you why I don’t want to play Punchies and you’re over here saying that I’m whining.” Rigby sighed. “There’s no use in this…” Maybe it was because of earlier, the way that Mordecai held him in bed, or maybe it was because Mordecai was insulting him now, or his emotions weren’t under control like they usually were, but Rigby wanted to cry. Already, he could feel tears pricking the corner of his eyes and his throat closing up. So, he did the only thing that he could in the moment, he ran away. He went straight through the front door and never looked back.

Even as Mordecai called out to him, saying that he was sorry, it wasn’t enough to bring him back.

It would never be enough.

Why did he think that it would be any different?

He shook his head as he ran on all fours, determined not to run back to Mordecai, his friend could go kick rocks at the moment. Considering all of his concentration was on running and not thinking, it was no surprise that he bumped straight into Skips who was coming back from having planted something earlier. The two crashed into one another and they both unceremoniously fell to the ground with a thump. Rigby went sprawling and Skips landed on his butt, letting out a low grunt.

“What the heck, Rigby?” Skips said, sounding as gruff as ever. Thankfully, there was no malice in his tone, just general confusion. “You looked like you were being chased by the Destroyer of Worlds again. Please, tell me you and Mordecai didn’t unleash him again?”

Rigby shook his head. Any other time he would laugh at Skips’s concern but not now. “No, Skips. We didn’t unleash the Destroyer of Worlds again.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and he reached up to wipe it away before Skips could see.

“What’s wrong?” Skips asked.

"Mordecai can be such a jerk sometimes!” snapped Rigby.

Skips didn’t seem very surprised by that, merely raising an eyebrow to inquire more about what happened. Then he bent down, reaching to help Rigby up. Rigby gladly accepted the help and the two went to the cart garage.

Rigby slipped inside of the doorway, taking in the spaciousness of the place. “I still can’t believe you live here.” With a wistful sigh he added, “I mean it beats living in the house with Pops. He’s always up all night doing…I don’t even know what!” He turned to Skips as he skipped through the doorway. “Do you know what Pops does in his spare time?”

“I do but I’m not going to tell you. There are some things that are meant to be kept as a secret.”

“That explains absolutely nothing,” said Rigby. He crossed his arms across his chest. “Why do you always have to be so vague about literally everything?”

Skips smiled. “You’ll understand one day.”

Time marched on. Rigby and Skips talked about a lot of things, mostly trying to dodge the topic of love and who they each loved. Eventually Rigby sprawled out onto the cool floor because of the soaring temperature outside.

“Hey, Skips? Can you keep a secret?”

“I’m an immortal vault of secrets,” Skips replied bluntly.

“I…I think that I've fallen in love with Mordecai,” Rigby confessed softly.

Skips nodded in understanding. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I can’t.” Rigby rolled over onto his back, staring up at the white ceiling. “There's a lot of stuff but basically the gist is that I got into a really bad relationship back in high school and now I’m too scared to date again.”

Skips grunted. “I won’t say a word to Mordecai. But I think that you should at least try and give him a chance. You never know what might happen.” Rigby’s ears pricked up at the contentment in Skips’s voice. He wondered what he was specifically referring to with that last sentence but decided against voicing it.

“Thanks, Skips. It’s always fun talking to you.”

“Likewise.”

Rigby left the cart garage feeling a little bit better. Maybe he could finally go back and talk to Mordecai. Surely, they were both cooled off enough to talk. But his spirits plummeted as he heard a strange call coming from the woods. A soft lilting voice caressed his ear, “Follow me. Find me.”

Uh…what? he thought, alarmed. Who are you?  

Everything looked normal outside. The sun was blazing brightly overhead, beating down heat onto the unsuspecting people in the park. There wasn’t a single cloud in the vast expanse of bright blue sky. 

“Come and find me. I’m in the woods behind the Yeti’s home. Follow me. Find me.”

I-I really shouldn’t. I have to talk to Mordecai about him being such a huge jerk! And besides, Benson’ll yell at me if I go into the woods behind Skips's garage.

“The talking gum ball machine won’t be mad.”

You sure?

”Absolutely! I promise!”

There was a deviousness, a wickedness in that soft lilting voice that Rigby should’ve noticed but, alas, he did not at the time. Instead, he turned around and followed it. Little did he know that he was following a call to his own doom. Rigby made sure to slink beneath the window and scurried out of Skips’s line of sight. Skips didn’t need to know what he was doing. Just a quick peek at whatever was calling to him and then he’d be back at the house, talking to Mordecai in no time.

He followed the call deep into the woods. Over cut down trees, crunching fallen leaves beneath his paws, crossing little streams and bubbling brooks. Eventually he stumbled across a clearing and in that clearing resided a large, overgrown, pastel-colored sunflower. There was a circle of ash surrounding it, which was strange. But then again Rigby wasn’t a florist so what did he know.

That same low, enticing voice from earlier came back. “Come closer.”

Rigby whirled around, ready to deck whoever in the world had said that to him. Surely it was a person who was talking to him, right? But there was no one behind him. Just tree after tree stretching seemingly miles upon miles.

He was completely alone.

“You’re not alone, silly. I’m here.”

“Who are you!” he shouted. “Show yourself!” His hackles rose up, claws already poking out from his fingertips, he was ready to fight.

“That’s no way to speak to someone, now, is it?”

Rigby whirled back around, fear creeping up his spine, invading his mind. He began to take a step away from the flower when that same voice came back, an urgent tone to it. “Don’t be scared of me. I’m just a magical flower here in a clearing.”

Rigby’s eyes widened. “W-What?” A musical giggle filled his ears. “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t bite. Come closer.”

Rigby slowly took a few steps forward and the flower egged him on. He managed to keep a paw step away from the flower, looking at it quizzically.

“I didn’t know that flowers could talk,” Rigby said nervously.

“And I didn’t know that racoons could fall in love with blue jays, but here we are.”

“How did you know that?”

“Magical flower here. Duh. I know everything.” The flower said, sounding almost exasperated. “Now, come a little bit closer.”

Rigby halted. How did he know that the flower wouldn’t jump out and attack him? Far weirder things had happened at the park. A magical talking flower wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing to meet. 

Almost as if it sensed his apprehension, the flower added, “I can give you some pollen to help Mordecai fall in love with you. Wouldn’t you like that? I can feel so much agony within you. Won’t it be nice to have him love you in the same way?”

“No!” Rigby stomped up to the flower, fallen leaves crunching beneath his paws. “I’m not going to just drug my best friend! I mean who in the world says that kind of stuff?” The moment that his right paw touched the ash circle; it was far too late. The flower slithered up to its fullest height, towering a good deal above the anthropomorphic racoon, and sprayed a large cloud of red pollen right into his face.

The last thing that Rigby saw before he slipped into darkness was the flower peering down at him, leaves curled inward on its stem, as if it were mimicking the gesture of having hands on its hips.

Chapter Text

And I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem
But if I know you
I know what you'll do
You'll love me at once
The way you did once upon a dream

"Once Upon a Dream" by Mary Costa and Bill Shirley

Mordecai slumped against the couch, his face burning hot with undeniable shame. The last thing that Rigby had said to him before running off crying echoed in his mind; “I’m trying to explain to you why I don’t want to play Punchies and you’re over here saying that I’m whining.

There’s no use in this…” The look of defeat on Rigby’s face was forever seared into his memory.

I’m sorry, dude… he thought forlornly, I didn’t mean it.

What was worse was that Mordecai knew that Rigby was probably curled up somewhere, bawling his eyes out all alone. It reminded him far too much of the events from high school. Finding Rigby in the gym bathroom, crying, all because of Jablonski. Or crying because his dad called him a failure for the seemingly 100th time. Or because Mr. Ross told him that he was going to fail science class and not graduate. 

Rigby was sensitive, that much was true. Even if he often hid it nowadays, there was a time when he had worn his heart on his sleeve.

You’re no better than all those people, a small all-too familiar voice in the back of his head whispered, you’re just like what’s-his-name, oh yeah, Jablonski.

For a split second, he believed that nagging voice. That he really was just as bad as Francis Jablonski — the insane jerk jock from high school. And then it went away as he thought over his and Rigby’s friendship. 

Sure, maybe they fought a lot more now than they did before, but it never went to the extremes that Rigby and Jablonski had — or at least what Mordecai knew of his friend’s relationship with the jock. Mordecai never called Rigby a trash panda or humiliated him every single day in front of his own friends or even went so far as to break his arm because he was angry.

Honestly, he still didn’t see what Rigby had seen in Jablonski. Sure, maybe he was good looking — at the time at least — but deep down he had a rancid personality. But maybe that was the point. That the most beautiful people in the world could be ugly on the inside, but you wouldn’t know it until you really saw past the looks.

Unfortunately, Rigby hadn’t seen it until it was virtually too late. Mordecai could still remember it as clear as a lake, the night that Rigby had called him in a rush, begging him to come and get him before Jablonski killed him. It was a terrifying night but in the end, Mordecai had managed to rescue his best friend and then… Mordecai shook his head, clearing his scattered thoughts. He didn’t need nor want to remember what happened after that. It was something private that would never see the light of day. 

Rest assured it changed their friendship forever, that much was true.

He continued desperately convincing himself and battling the voice that said he was as bad as Jablonski. Rigby would come back, and they could sit down and talk, and then Mordecai would apologize, and things would turn right again. 

After a while he started to feel anxiety slowly creeping up on him, so he got up and started pacing back and forth in the living room. At one point he looked out through the window and thought about how nice it would be to take a walk in the woods with Rigby.

You really think that Rigby would fall for someone like you? the dark voice came back. You’re worthless. You always screw up with love. Remember Basil?

In a fit of rage, more at himself than anything, he picked up the controller from the coffee table and hurled it. The controller smacked against the wall before clattering to the floor below.

“Yo, bro, what’s your deal?” Mordecai whirled around to find Muscle Man leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. He was sporting a sweat-stained dark gray t-shirt and sipping on a large soda. Hi Five Ghost was nowhere to be seen. “You’re lucky that Benson didn’t see that.”

Mordecai pinched the bridge of his beak. “I really don’t care right now, Muscle Man.”

Muscle Man held up his hands as if in surrender. “Hey man, I get it. You get a little too angry and then you start throwing and trying to break stuff. It’s cool. I’ve been there.”

“It’s not what it looks like — well — it kind of is but,” Mordecai hesitated then sighed. “I think I messed up.” Muscle Man gave him a look as if to say yes, yes you did. “I kind of upset Rigby earlier and now I’m mad at myself.” To Mordecai’s own surprise, Muscle Man sauntered up to him and took him by the shoulders. He could smell the cloying stench wafting off of the green man and tried his best not to gag. Muscle Man would either go ballistic or try to make him smell his own armpits for such an offense.

“Bro, you made your bro, or whatever you think of Rigby as being, upset with you.” Mordecai opened his beak to ask what he meant by that, but Muscle Man’s glare made him shut it right quick. “You just got to go find him and tell him that you’re sorry. It’s Rigby. He’ll forgive you. Just like how he forgave me for putting salt in his coffee yesterday.”

“Ohhhh, that explains why Rigby siphoned gas out of the cart,” said Mordecai, nodding.

Muscle Man’s eye twitched. “Rigby did that?” He let go of Mordecai and began to stomp his way towards the front door. “I’m going to kill that raccoon! Hi Five Ghost and I got stranded in the middle of the creepy woods! What a jackhole!”

Mordecai couldn’t help but laugh at Muscle Man’s outrage. He decided to take his advice at heart and went to find Rigby. As he stepped outside of the house, he saw Muscle Man running off back to his trailer, most likely to go and get Hi Five Ghost for his revenge, and Mordecai started walking towards the outpost bathroom when, not even a few feet away, Skips intercepted him.

“Hey Skips,” Mordecai greeted. “How's the planting going?”

Skips shrugged. “It’s nothing that I couldn’t handle.” His gaze turned inquisitive. “Where’s Rigby? I figured that he was going to go and talk to you.”

Cold dread dripped down Mordecai’s spine and his feathers fluffed out as a low, lilting voice caresses his ear coverts. “Hello there blue jay, do you miss your little raccoon friend?” Mordecai slapped the side of his head. That voice….at first, he thought that it was the same nagging voice in the back of his head, but this voice sounded so much different, as if it were an actual person talking to him telepathically. A person who wanted to both be friends but also enemies with him.

“Are you alright?” Skips asked, concerned.

Mordecai shivered. “No, dude, there’s someone whispering in my ear!”

An alarmed look flashed across Skips’s face. “Who?”

Mordecai shook his head. “I-I don’t know. It sounds like a low, lilting voice. Do you know who it is?” More dread slithered down his spine as Skips shook his head no. “Then who could it be?”

“I know where your little friend is. He’s here, with me.”

“Who are you!” Mordecai shouted out into sunny day. “Show yourself!” His fists clenched, and his talons dug into the dirt below. He was ready to brawl.

“He’s here in the woods with me. Come and find me, blue jay. And all will be revealed.”

“Mordecai,” Skips began gently, “who’s talking to you? What’s it saying?”

“Your name is Mordecai? How very old-school.” Mordecai swiped at the side of his head before replying, “I-It’s saying that Rigby is in the woods with it…” He refused to acknowledge the little quip of his name.

All at once, all of the color drained from Skips’s face. "Don’t tell me it's the flower talking to you?”

Mordecai shrugged, feeling utterly helpless.

“It’s okay. You can tell the Yeti that it is me. I’m the flower that was made by Lily. I’m the flower that was sent to him. I’m the flower that drugged your little buddy with my pollen. I just wanted to do right by my maker. Is that so wrong? Do you know why I was created, blue jay? I’ll tell you one day. I can’t have you knowing all of my secrets just yet. After all, that would make for a very boring story now, wouldn’t it?”

Mordecai trembled with undisguised fear as he listened to the voice taunting him. Skips put a gentle hand on Mordecai’s shoulder causing him to lose his focus on the voice. On pure instinct alone, he raised his arm and swung, full force, but Skips caught his fist before it could land in his face. 

“Mordecai, Mordecai, I understand that you’re scared but please, try not to break my face,” Skips said, an edge of humor lacing his usually gravelly voice. “I don’t think that Benson would appreciate it.”

Mordecai blinked, coming back into himself again. “Oh, sorry Skips.” Then he raised a brow, utterly confused. “Wait what? What do you mean ‘I don’t think that Benson would appreciate it.’?”

A rare smile graced Skips’s face and suddenly, the answer became clear as a winter day. Skips and Benson were a thing. Holy crap, Skips and Benson were dating. That was…well…that wasn’t very surprising now that Mordecai really thought about it. It actually made a ton of sense. Especially what with Benson being so giddy lately, he hardly if ever yelled at Mordecai and Rigby now.

“Congrats, dude.” Mordecai smiled, forgetting for a second about that looming, disembodied voice. “I’m happy for you two.” And he really meant it. Some part of him even hoped that, because Skips and Benson had gotten together, it meant that he and Rigby might have a chance.

“So very sweet.”

Eww, you again.

“No need to be so rude.”

Skips interrupted his mental fight with the flower. “What’s it saying to you now?”

“Oh, right,” said Mordecai, feeling sheepish. “It was telling me earlier that Rigby is with it in the woods and that it's the flower that was sent to you.” To anyone else he would’ve sounded deranged but to Skips it was like he completely understood what was going on.

“This isn’t good,” Skips groused, then added, sounding rather suspicious, “How is it that you can hear the flower talking but I can’t?”

Mordecai threw up his arms. “I have no clue dude, but we got to go and find Rigby. Who knows what that flower is doing to him!”

Skips nodded. “Right. Let’s go.” And off he and Mordecai went.

The two ran into the woods, determined to find Rigby.  They went deeper and deeper into the woods. Over cut down trees, crunching fallen leaves beneath their feet and talons, crossing little streams and bubbling brooks. Eventually they stumbled across a clearing and in it was Rigby curled up in front of a pastel-colored sunflower. 

Mordecai immediately noticed the circle of ash around the flower, almost as if someone had tried to light the flower on fire but for whatever reason it wouldn’t burn. That was…concerning.

“Um, Skips, what’s up with the ash?”

Skips grunted. “I tried to light the damn thing on fire but every time I did it just kept shedding ash like a lizard shedding its skin.” He muttered under his breath, “It’s a demonic plant.”

“Ugh, isn’t he just the worst? I’m just a little flower in this big ol’ world but of course he’s acting like I’m the bad guy here!”

Dude, you drugged my friend with your pollen. That doesn’t sound like something a good person or plant would do.

“I’m doing what I was made to do.”

Who made you? It was a genuine question coming from Mordecai. Despite the fact that he majorly disliked the plant he couldn’t help the curiosity that overtook him.

“Just someone named Lily. Ask your Yeti friend, I’m sure he’ll gladly tell you the story.”

“What’s it saying to you now?” Skips asked, snapping Mordecai out of his trance.

Mordecai whirled around to face him. “Who’s Lily?”

Skips shook his head. “I’ll tell you all about Lily and Jade later.”

“Ah, there you are. I finally see you, blue jay. Don’t you worry your feathery head off, your friend isn’t dead,” with a sinister giggle, it added, “Not yet anyways.”

Wait what, what do you mean by not yet?

“Oopsies! I didn’t mean to spoil the plot. My bad.”  Mordecai could’ve sworn that the flower was laughing at him. It enjoyed his distress, his pain, his… feelings for Rigby.

Skips snapped Mordecai out of his daze. “Is it still talking to you? Geez, I’ve never known a magicked flower to talk that much.”  Mordecai looked down, noticing that his feathers were puffed out again. He tried to smooth them down as he told Skips about what the flower said. Skips grimaced, muttering something about visiting Jade soon.

“Skips!” he asked. “Who’s Jade?” The glare that Skips gave him could’ve sliced through steel.

“I’m so glad that you asked, blue jay. Jade was my maker’s girlfriend.”

Thanks, but I didn’t ask you!

“Too bad.”

“Listen, I promise that I’ll tell you but right now we need to get Rigby away from the flower,” reiterated Skips. They both stepped out of the bush and Mordecai apprehensively approached the flower. He couldn’t help but think that Rigby looked rather peaceful laying on the ground, relief flooded him as he saw no visible injuries on the little guy.

Skips quickly warned him not to step in the circle of ash and Mordecai managed to stop just a hair away from it. The flower slithered up to its fullest height, looking down on him. It even tilted its capitulum to the side, as if regarding him in a curious manner.

“I can see inside of you how much you love him. How much you worry that he doesn’t love you back. Perhaps I can help with that?”

Already Mordecai could feel his feathers puff out, a feeling of danger washing over him, as he said, “Can I have Rigby back? I won’t do anything to you. I just need to get him and leave.”

“Of course you can have your little friend back,” the flower replied, “but be warned. If you do not reciprocate feelings for him within the week he will die.”

“What?!” Mordecai stepped forward, digging his sharp talons into the ash circle. Completely forgetting what Skips had warned him of just a few moments ago. “What do you mean he’s going to die by the end of the week if I don’t reciprocate his feelings? What did you do to him!” In his rising anger he reached out and grabbed hold of the flower’s stem, yanking it towards him.

“I only did what my maker made me do. Help those who feel for others but cannot say it. To bring them together.”

Mordecai couldn’t believe his own ears. “Then why can’t Skips hear you?” He knew the answer to it, but he needed to know what the flower would say. If anything, the flower had told him before was the truth.

“Because he already has a partner. I can only be heard by those who pine for someone that they’re not with.”

That makes…way too much sense now that I think about it.

“Why thank you, Mordecai. I’m not so bad of a flower, now, am I?”

Mordecai faltered for just a split second, his grip loosening just enough on the stem for the flower to wriggle out of it. For one horrible moment he thought that the flower would surely attack him. Attack and spray him with the same pollen that it had sprayed Rigby.

“I wish you well, blue jay. I hope that you and your friend can become more. Because otherwise his death will be in your hands.”

Despite the anger coursing through him, Mordecai bent down and scooped Rigby up into his arms and walked away from the stupid flower. Determination was rigid in every muscle in his body. He could feel Skips following closely as they walked back through the woods towards home. 

“What’s wrong, Mordecai?” asked Skips.

Mordecai shook his head. “I’ll tell you later…” All he wanted right now was to take Rigby back to the house and check on him. He had to know if his friend was alright. Guilt wormed its way into his heart as he thought over the argument they had earlier. He was dead set on apologizing whenever Rigby woke up.

If he woke up, that is.

Mordecai and Skips walked and skipped back in silence. Along the way they bumped into Muscle Man and Hi Five Ghost who were driving around the park in a golf cart. As soon as Muscle Man spotted them, he stopped the cart and asked, “Hey bros, you guys got stuck in the creepy woods too?” There was a smirk on his face but when his gaze landed on Rigby it slowly faded away.

Skips stepped forward. “If you guys go back in those woods, I will personally make Benson fire you two.” he said, sounding dead serious. “Understand?”

Mordecai couldn’t help the little snort that came out of him as he witnessed Muscle Man and Hi Five Ghost both shake their heads, promising not to go back in there. Then, something peculiar happened, Hi Five Ghost shivered and asked, “Why does Rigby smell like that?”

“I don't know, what does he smell like?” snapped Mordecai, his feathers fluffing out. Of course, Muscle Man and Hi Five Ghost exchanged a wild look before driving off in a hurry.

He let out a frustrated growl, holding Rigby closer to him without even realizing it. Skips placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he let it stay there. 

“Hi Five Ghost was probably just kidding.” But the distress on Skips’s face was palpable.

He slipped deeper into his own mind as they continued on their journey to the house. At some point Benson greeted them at the door, asking where the heck they had been. When his gaze landed on Rigby, he demanded to know what happened but thankfully Skips took him aside to tell him while Mordecai took Rigby back to their room.

He paused in the threshold, gazing around the room. There were old band posters of Fist Pump and Brain Explosion on the opposite wall. Rigby’s small trampoline with dirty clothes encircling it laid in the corner, alone. Closest to Mordecai was his bed. 

He decided right then and there to let Rigby have his bed. Mordecai gently laid him on it and was just about to tuck him in with his galaxy blanket when he spotted ash still stuck in Rigby’s thick pelt. Smiling softly, he walked to the half bath in the hallway and grabbed a hairbrush. He quickly went back to the room and, after sitting at the edge of the bed, began to brush the ash out of Rigby’s fur. The quiet was oppressive and weighed heavily down on Mordecai — alongside his guilt — so he started talking to Rigby.

“Hey dude, you’re okay. You’re in the house now,” Mordecai whispered, hoping that Rigby could hear him. “I don’t know what that flower did to you but you got to wake up…” He caressed Rigby’s face, silently noting just how soft his fur really was. Which was kind of funny, considering that half the time Rigby didn’t even bathe. 

(Well, Mordecai didn’t either but that was beside the point.)

“C’mon dude, please…please wake up?” But Rigby slept on.

Maybe the only way that Rigby would wake up is if Mordecai kissed him. Maybe this was a Sleeping Beauty situation. Mordecai didn’t know how Rigby would feel being kissed by him but if he had to do it, then he would. And silently enjoy it.

“Um…Rigby?” Mordecai whispered, feeling increasingly awkward. “I’m going to kiss you…j-just to wake you up. It’s not like I have feelings for you or anything…” he trailed off, nervously running his fingers through his chest feathers. With a deep breath, in through his nares out through his beak, he slowly lowered his face towards Rigby’s. He even reached out and gently cupped Rigby's cheek, cradling his head in his wing.

Within an instant two things occurred: one, Rigby’s eyes snapped open — his normally black eyes were now a bright pink — and two, Mordecai suddenly found a pair of warm lips pressed against his beak.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, all I think about is you
Late nights in the middle of June
Heat waves been fakin' me out
Can't make you happier now

"Heat Waves" by Glass Animals

Rigby’s eyes snapped open. He felt lighter than he ever had before, as if he were floating on a cloud. Peace settled over him like a warm blanket on a cold, winter day. The fear that he had felt before passing out was completely gone. His heart fluttered in his chest as his gaze rested on Mordecai’s lovely face. A dopey smile tugged at his snout as Mordecai lowered his face towards his.

This was it. This was his moment to shine. To kiss Mordecai and finally show him how much he loved how much he had desired him all these years. And so, without further prompting, Rigby propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his lips to Mordecai’s beak. A strangled noise emanated from the blue jay’s throat, but he didn’t notice. He was far too deep into the kiss to really care.

Their first kiss.

It was as magical as everyone else always said that kisses could be. It was no ‘fireworks going off’ kind of feeling, like some books and people liked to describe. To Rigby it was more akin to a bonfire being lit by a match and a gallon of gasoline. And he wanted more of that feeling. Craved it. Needed it. After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally reached out and began to run his fingers through the silky soft white feathers of Mordecai’s chest.

Mordecai shivered and, after a moment passed of his own seeming hesitation, wrapped his arms around Rigby holding him closer.

But all good things must come to pass. Mordecai gently grasped Rigby’s wrists, prying his paws away from his chest. Reluctantly, Rigby pulled away from the kiss only to immediately grab hold of Mordecai’s wing. His gaze bore into Mordecai’s as he smiled sweetly.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he said softly. Mordecai flinched. “Because I totally will. I love you, dude. I’ve loved you since senior year. I didn’t have the guts to tell you back then, because you were dating Basil, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then...Francis was so nice to me. He would comfort me and stuff -- Heck! -- even taught me how to play Volleyball! I started thinking maybe...maybe I could be with him? I really did love him.” Tears stung his eyes as he thought of the blonde jock that had abused him for nearly a whole year. He often dubbed it the worst year of his life. “But I think we both know what happened later..."

Mordecai grimaced. “Yeah, I know.” Then he gave Rigby a tentative smile and the fire within his chest blazed brighter. “Remember when Francis got all mad at you thinking that you were cheating on him and I had to come and save your haunches? I was totally prepared to go to jail for you.”

“Really?” squealed Rigby. Mordecai nodded and he leapt at the blue jay again, hugging him with all of his might and love. He sagged against that silky chest as he felt Mordecai’s wings envelop him.

He loves me, he loves me, he has to love me! he thought, feeling overjoyed. He said he was prepared to go to jail for me. That’s a declaration of love if I’ve ever heard one!

A purr rose up through Rigby’s throat as he felt Mordecai’s hard beak run through the fur atop his head. He was preening him. He was doing something that birds do to express affection. Mordecai was being affectionate which meant that…

…that..

…he loved him.

It had to be true. Rigby wouldn’t accept anything else. He refused to. He knew deep down in his heart that Mordecai loved him. If only he could say it. But they would work on that later. For now, Rigby was happy enough to just be laying against Mordecai’s chest, being held by him.

“Um, Rigby?” Rigby reluctantly lifted his head to look up into Mordecai’s obsidian black eyes. Much to his own surprise, there was guilt shining in them. “I’m sorry about earlier. Before you ran off. I-I didn’t mean what I said, dude. I was being a big jerk, and I felt so bad after you left I—” Rigby shook his head. “—It’s true though! I was being really mean to you before you ran off and then that flower sprayed you.”

He smiled. “I’m not mad anymore, Mordecai. I think that you’re so sweet and considerate. I love you so much.” 

The look on Mordecai’s face was, to anyone else who wasn’t currently under a love spell, absolutely heartbreaking. He looked as if he were torn between crying or throwing up. Or maybe a bit of both.

“Dude, you…” Mordecai’s voice shook. “...that flower was right.” He released Rigby and got up off the bed, trembling all over. Rigby flopped onto his stomach, irritation striking through the warmth in his chest. He had no clue as to why Mordecai was acting so weird all of a sudden. So, what if the flower was right. What did that even mean?

“Why did you let me go?” he whined and stretched his arm out. “Come back to me. I love you.” His smile quickly faltered as he finally saw the horrified look on Mordecai’s face. The blue jay was standing in the middle of the room, his wings wrapped around himself, trembling, and staring at Rigby like he had just shot someone.

The hazy filter that had fallen over him like a veil ever since he had woken up vanished in an instant.

“I need to bring you to Skips, this is worse than I thought it would be.” Mordecai’s feathers were puffing out.

Rigby flinched. “W-What do you mean?” When Mordecai didn’t immediately answer, he added, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Mordecai came back over and sat down next to him. His wings were clasped together on his lap and Rigby noticed again, this time with dread, that they were still trembling. Still feeling tremendous amounts of love and admiration for the blue jay, Rigby reached out and gently placed a paw on his knee. Much to his own relief, the trembling tapered off.

Mordecai sighed heavily. “I need to know, do you remember what happened before you woke up?” Rigby’s ears perked up at the distress in his voice.

“No, not really.” But as Rigby began to sift through his memories, cold dread washed over him, and suddenly it hit him like a lightning bolt. His eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, as he leapt up onto shaky legs.

“I can give you some pollen to help Mordecai fall in love with you. Wouldn’t you like that? I can feel so much agony within you. Won’t it be nice to have him love you in the same way?”

Oh no. Oh Grop. Oh no, he thought frantically.

It was all coming back to him in a rush like that of an engorged river after a heavy rain, The argument. The running off. The talk with Skips and then going into the woods, following a call in his head. The flower trying to get him to come closer. The flower saying that it could drug Mordecai with its pollen to get him to fall in love with him.

And then…

… oh no …

…the flower sprayed him instead.

The very last thing that he could remember before passing out was the flower peering down at him, leaves curled inward on its stem, as if it were mimicking the gesture of having hands on its hips.

A growl rose up in his throat and he let it, his paws curled into fists, claws digging into his palms, as anger surged through him. He couldn’t believe it. Refused to believe it. That stupid flower had gotten the jump on him! Rigby stewed in his anger for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of ears like a cartoon character.

Mordecai stared at him wide-eyed, uncertainty flickering on his face, before then shrugging it off and reached out. Rigby saw his wing outstretched in the corner of his eye and promptly smacked it away. The blue jay’s beak opened, shocked.

Terror seized his heart as he realized that he had kissed Mordecai. Him and Mordecai kissed. They held each other and kissed. Oh Grop. He had told Mordecai that he loved him since junior year of high school.

Somebody stick a fork in me, I’m so done.

“D-Dude?” Rigby whipped his head to the side. Mordecai looked downright frightened. “Are you okay?”

He snorted. “You’re in luck, buddy. I do remember. I remember everything.” The last word was hissed through his sharp teeth. Maybe if he acted grouchy enough it would scare Mordecai away from him.

“You do?”

“Yep.”

“Do you remember if the flower spoke to you?”

Rigby cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, why? Did it talk to you?”

“Yeah. And it was really creepy too. It said that it could help me with my, um, love problem.”

“Same,” replied Rigby. “It tried to convince me to—” but unfortunately, he was cut off by the bedroom door bursting open, revealing a ruby red-faced Benson and a stoic Skips just behind him.

“Explain to me,” Benson said as he stormed up to Rigby and Mordecai, “Why, oh why, were you, yes you, what were you doing in the woods behind Skips’s garage? Did I not tell everyone this morning to stay away from that place!” Rigby had to clamp down a chuckle as he saw the top of Benson’s dome and gumballs turn a deeper shade of red. “Is this a joke to you Rigby?”

Skips frowned and placed a hand on Benson’s shoulder. “Benson,” he said bluntly. “What did we talk about earlier?” And just as quickly as it had begun, the crimson red of his gumballs and dome faded back to the normal purplish-pink color. Benson sighed and a crease between his eyebrows appeared. “Okay, fine,” he said, this time in a calmer tone. “Rigby, why were you in the woods behind Skips’s garage?”

Rigby lashed his tail. “I heard a voice in my head, so I followed it, and it led me into the woods.” His gaze flickered from Mordecai to Skips and then back to Benson. “Is that such a crime?” he said with a scoff.

“Didn’t I teach you and Mordecai not to follow disembodied voices?” Skips asked. He gave a meaningful look to Mordecai and then to Rigby. Rigby grinned. So, Mordecai had followed the voice too. It was the perfect opportunity to tease him for it.

“Hah! You followed the flower too!”

Mordecai pinched the bridge of his beak. “Butt out of it, dude. I only did it to save your haunches.” A smile tugged at Rigby’s cheeks. “And besides, Skips followed me so who’s really to blame?”

Rigby’s smile grew wider. “You sure like to talk about my haunches. Is there something you want to tell me?” Much to his own surprise and utter delight, Mordecai’s cheeks turned beet red. “Oh ho, look who’s blushing now!”

Benson gave each of them a look that could wilt a field of flowers. “I don’t care if Mordecai likes your haunches or who follows who! I need to know what the heck is going on and why a flower is drugging my employees!” he exclaimed, utterly exasperated.

“Listen, Benson,” Skips began, “I’ll explain everything once we go to the living room.”

Rigby raised an eyebrow, confused by what he was saying. It didn’t make much sense why Skips didn’t just come out with the explanation. Why did he feel the need to explain it to Benson in private and not to, well, him and Mordecai?

I’m the one who got sprayed here, not Benson!

Mordecai reached out and ran a wing down Rigby’s back, flattening the bristling fur there. The hazy feeling from earlier came back tenfold and he leaned into the blue jay’s touch. He wished that they could stay like this forever. The feeling didn’t last very long, however, when Benson gasped, “What’s wrong with Rigby’s eyes?”

Mordecai jerked his wing away and Rigby blinked, suddenly aware once again of everyone’s stare on him. His fur puffed out again, the intense need to lash out starting all over again. “What do you mean what’s wrong with my eyes? Why’re you guys looking at me like that!”

Skips exchanged a look with Benson that left Rigby feeling more confused and angered than before. “What? What is it Skips? What’s wrong with me?” His stomach dropped to his knees as the yeti slowly shook his head. “Nonononono, tell me, Skips. C’mon you got to tell me! What did that flower do to me?!” Desperation drenched his voice.

“I think that we need to take this discussion to the living room.” Skips left the room, followed closely behind by Benson who still looked miffed. Rigby watched him go, confusion and worry weighing heavily on his chest.

He was about to turn to look at Mordecai, maybe even ask him about what just happened, when he felt the blue jay’s wing on his back once again. Silky feathers brushing up against stiff fur. The hazy feeling crashed over Rigby once more. This time he didn’t even attempt to fight it, instead he simply hugged Mordecai, burying his muzzle into his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, dude. I’ll help you through this.” he said as he hugged Rigby back. “I promise. We’ll figure out how to stop this.” Was it his own imagination or had Mordecai’s voice hitched at the end?

Eventually Rigby pulled away, the hazy feeling evaporating once he was out of Mordecai’s grasp and shook his head. “It’s alright, Mordecai. I’ll be okay. Just as long as you stop touching me, that feeling won’t come back.”

“Oh.” Mordecai’s wings fell onto his lap, and he clasped them together. “Right. That makes sense. I guess.” He gave Rigby a grin that seemed more like a grimace. Rigby tried to grin back, but it felt more like a grimace too.

“Yeah…right…”

The blue jay looked away. “So, uh, where’d you run off to after I made you upset? I mean, before the flower started talking to you and stuff.” Rigby winced when he saw that Mordecai’s wings were trembling again.

“I — Oh! — right, yeah.” Rigby ran a paw up and down his shoulder, suddenly feeling very small. “Yeah, I, uh, I sort of ran into Skips. We ended up talking in his garage and that helped.”

Mordecai perked up at that. “What did you — I mean if you want to tell me — what did you guys talk about?”

“Love and all that junk,” Rigby said softly. 

“Right.” Mordecai got up off the bed. “Love. Love and all that junk.” He curled his left wing in the shape of a fist.

Is he jealous? Rigby pondered briefly before shoving that thought away. There was no way that Mordecai was jealous. No. He’s not jealous. Wait, what if he is? Maybe he loves me! He took a moment to look at Mordecai, to really look at him. To take him in. All of him. It was a good thing that he was still sitting on the bed too because if he had been standing his legs would’ve gone out from underneath him.

What had that flower done to him? His feelings had never been this strong. Before, they were manageable. It had been a persistent yet dull ache to hide them. But now, it was a horrible ache trying to hide them. Like someone was actively taking a knife and stabbing him through the heart kind of ache.

“Hey,” Mordecai said, and Rigby blinked back to reality. “Are you okay?” He was holding out a wing, a worried look sketched across his face. Rigby didn’t even hesitate, he leapt up off the bed and took his wing in his paw, desperate to try and get away from that horrible feeling.

If he had to pick between the horrible ache or the hazy feeling, he was going to choose the hazy feeling. At least the hazy feeling didn’t make him actively feel like he was dying on the inside.

With a renewed smile on his beak, Mordecai tugged Rigby towards the door and out into the hallway where they almost immediately bumped into Pops. The lollipop-shaped man turned around and laughed joyously at the sight of the pair holding hands. 

“Jolly good show!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I’m so relieved that you two finally got together. I shall have to tell the others about this.” Pops skipped away before Mordecai could correct him. His jovial laughter echoed down the hall as he went to his room.

Mordecai stamped his talons against the floorboard while Rigby clung to his side, staring up at him with lovey-dovey eyes. “Don’t you think that everyone should know how much we love each other?” he sighed dreamily. There was nothing better than the feeling of being so close to the blue jay. Even as he turned his sharp gaze to him.

“That’s a bad idea, dude,” he replied wistfully.

Rigby blinked. “Why is it a bad idea?” When Mordecai didn’t respond immediately, he added, "Don't you love me?” If he wasn’t currently stuck in the hazy feeling he would’ve noticed the sad look that flashed across Mordecai’s face for a split second.

“It’s just a bad idea right now.”

Rigby hummed but chose not to reply. His mind was too busy formulating a plan. An idea sprouted and he knew just the person to help him make it come true.

After they made it down the stairs and into the living room, Rigby spotted Skips sitting down on the couch and Benson was back and forth in front of the TV. Benson stopped dead in his tracks when his gaze landed on them.

He scoffed. “It took you guys long enough getting down here.”

Mordecai glared and Rigby swooned at his anger. The blue jay let go of his paw and the hazy feeling evaporated leaving the stabbing pain to come back. As he looked around the room he spotted Benson’s unease.

“Okay. What is it? Did I do something weird again?”

“Your eyes turn pink anytime Mordecai is touching you,” Skips replied evenly. “And you start to gush about how awesome and amazing he is. How much you love him.” Was it just his own imagination or could he detect a degree of warmth in Skips’s usual gruff voice? His heart rate sped up and he suddenly had the distinct feeling of wanting to throw up. I was supposed to keep that stuff on the inside! Darn that stupid flower! I hate this, I hate this so much.

“Let me guess, it’s because of the flower spraying me?”

“Most likely.”

Rigby rolled his eyes. “Great.” He turned his head in enough time to see Benson roll his eyes too before starting up his pacing again. This time however, he was muttering to himself and waving his arms animatedly.

Mordecai reached out again, likely going to touch Rigby’s shoulder, but stopped about halfway. Rigby saw it in the corner of his vision and lashed his tail, thinking to himself that this was all he ever wanted, Mordecai paying attention to him and helping him, and yet now that he finally has it, it super sucks. His train of thought derailed when the flower’s voice whispered in his ear.

“Why hello there, little one.” A scream clawed its way up his throat and out of mouth and he bolted straight for the kitchen. He refused to listen to that voice. That terrible voice that had been like a siren’s song, lulling him towards it until it sprayed him straight in the face. This whole situation was its own fault.

“Please don’t scream. I’m just trying to check up on you. Is that so wrong? How’re you feeling? Any chest pain, difficulty breathing? Maybe some lovey-dovey feelings?”

“Leave me alone!” he snarled out into the empty kitchen. 

The flower cackled into his ear. “No, no, I don’t think I will. I need to see how this story plays out. Who will make the first move?” In his own terror Rigby tripped over his paws and landed face first onto the cold tiled floor. Somewhere in the distance he could just make out Benson asking what the heck was going on.

“Why was Rigby screaming like that? It sounded like he was being stabbed!” Benson shouted frantically. 

“Do you remember that flower that I received last night?” Skips said in a low voice. “Well, it turns out that it can communicate telepathically. It seems that Jade failed to mention that in her letter to me.”

Who’s Jade?

“Jade helped my maker, well, make me.”

“You mean that thing can communicate through minds?!” Benson shrieked. “And you thought that it was a good idea to bury it in the woods? Are you out of your mind, Skips!

“I needed to watch over it,” Skips said softly, then hastily added, “I had no idea what it was capable of. If I had known that it could communicate then I would’ve burned it.”

“He is so mean! Can you believe him, little one?”

Rigby rolled his eyes at the dramatic tone coming from the flower. I hope he does burn you, he thought as he sprawled out across the tiles, soaking up the coolness from them. Maybe it would help make the stabbing pain go away.

“What? Why? What did I do to you? Oh, you’re so mean.”

You sprayed me! You forced me to fall in love with Mordecai! I was doing just fine until you came into my life.

“Sorry sweetie but you were already in love with him. I just helped destroy your inhibitions and weird complex surrounding your feelings for him.”

Shut up.

“You know that I’m right.”

Rigby groaned and slowly got up, wondering why it had to be him of all people dealing with the flower mentally attacking him. He didn’t ask to be psycho-analysed by a telepathic flower. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Mordecai slip in through the kitchen doorway, his talons clacking against the tiles.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’ve got that flower talking in my head again,” Rigby growled.

“That sucks, dude. But at least you’re still Rigby.”

He couldn’t help smiling at that remark. “I know you want to pick me up, but if you do, I might start gushing about how strong you are.” 

Mordecai snorted. “Picking you up is nothing. You weigh about as much as a bag of leaves, dude.” With a sigh, he finally rolled himself over onto his side. The blue jay was looking down at him with worry in his beady eyes.

“Did the flower speak all creepy-like to you too or is that just my own luck?” Rigby said conversationally. Mordecai’s grimace was answer enough.

With another heavy sigh, he finally got up off the floor and dusted himself off. Only to have the flower’s musical giggle caress his ear. “Now’s your chance, little one. Kiss him! Do it now!”  A growl rumbled deep in his chest as his ear flicked in warning.

Alarm flashed across Mordecai’s face. “Oh Grop, dude, is that…?”

“Yes!” snapped Rigby and Mordecai flinched. 

What do you want from me?!

“I just want to see two unhappy people get together and make their lives way happier!” the flower said and then cackled. On any other day it would’ve sounded all musical and nice and junk. But right now, it sounded about as appealing as claws across a chalkboard. 

Who says I’m unhappy? he shot back, glaring at a dirty spot on the tiles below. Even crossing his arms across his chest for good measure. If only his glare could reach the stupid flower. Although it could probably sense his displeasure. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I could sense it from the very moment that you left the house. Poor, poor Rigby. Always looked down upon by everyone even by his own best friend and crush.”

It’s already bad enough that you drugged me but now you want to invade my mind and my feelings too? Rigby thought back, trying to add emphasis to the mental words. He doubted that it would do anything but it was worth a try.

“You dare to send your thoughts to me in such a manner?”

So, it worked after all. Rigby grinned. I do.

“Hm, looks like I’ll have to keep a closer eye on your mental prowess after all.”

Funny, you don’t even have eyes!

“Ugh, whatever! Shut up! Anyways, it’s like what I told your dear blue jay earlier; I only did what my maker made me to do. Help those who feel for others but cannot say it. To bring them together.”

That’s even more funny. Mordecai doesn’t want me, he hesitated for a split second before sending out the rest of the thought, not like I want him.

“Do you really think that’s true or is it simply what you want to believe? Perhaps you’re scared that he might reciprocate your feelings? Daresay you don’t want him to love you. Because you believe that how could anyone love you when you don’t even love yourself?”

No! No, I—I… Rigby blinked and was quickly taken out of his mind by a wooden spoon being gently tapped on his head. He looked up and scowled at Mordecai. “Seriously dude, a spoon?”

Mordecai shrugged but had the decency to look guilty. “I didn’t know what else to do. You were staring off into space and clearly I can’t touch you so…y’know…my only option was a spoon!”

Rigby growled as frustration bubbled inside of his chest like lava in a volcano. “Why don’t you just stab me in the heart with a fork while you’re at it! At least then I can finally get rid of this stupid feeling!”

Mordecai flinched and regret quickly filled Rigby’s chest. Silence soon smothered them both like a blanket over a fire. The only thing that Rigby could hear was the quiet conversation between Benson and Skips in the living room; he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he had the distinct feeling that they were still talking about him.

The fur along his spine lifted as frustration continued coursing their way through his whole body. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. Holy H, I hate this.

“I know, dude,” Mordecai eventually said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I know that this whole situation has gotta suck big time but—”

“—That’s an understatement of the freakin’ century,” Rigby interrupted, clearly not wanting him to continue. But Mordecai pushed onwards, because of course he did.

“—But I’m going to help you through this.” Mordecai’s dark gaze bore into his own and it took everything within him not to look away. “Because,”— was Rigby imagining it or was there a slight hitch in his voice —”Because we’re best friends and I won’t let you get hurt. And I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean what I said, you weren’t being lame. I guess—I guess I just wasn’t listening. I wanted to play Punchies so bad but…I should’ve listened to what you wanted instead.”

Something crackled in the very air between them. Rigby blinked and finally looked away with a huff. Stupid Mordecai. Stupid feelings for him. If that had been a love confession, he would’ve jumped on Mordecai already but, instead, he had called them best friends. 

Bleh. Disappointment weighed on his heart like a fallen brick. “Alright.” Rigby let his shoulders slump and the fur along his spine flattened. “Alright. Fine. You can help me. Whatever, dude. I really don’t care.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Mordecai’s beak. “Nah, I think you do care, dude.”

“Ugh. Whatever you wanna believe.” But Rigby soon found himself smiling too despite his own frustrations. But his smile didn’t last very long when Benson and Skips came walking through the kitchen doorway.

“I think that the best option we have right now is to pretend that everything is fine. At least until Skips can find out whoever has the cure for this.” Benson waved a hand at Rigby and he had the sudden overwhelming urge to chomp on it. “So make sure to keep an eye on him. And whatever you guys do, do not go near that flower again or I will fire you, no ifs ands or buts about it!” He shook and his gumballs flared a bright red before turning back to their normal pinkish-purple color.

Rigby grumbled for a bit before muttering a tepid yes and Mordecai responded in a much happier albeit desperate tone.

“Are you banning me from the flower too?” asked Skips. Rigby looked up just in time to spot the crease in his brow.

A conflicted look flashed across Benson’s face before determination finally settled. “For now, I’m going to have to say yes to that question.”

After looking back and forth at the two of them, Rigby tried to catch Mordecai’s gaze; he wanted to ask him if he knew what was going on between Benson and Skips. But Mordecai was too busy plucking out some shoulder feathers at the moment to answer.

He was readying himself to say something when he felt a cold, steel hand land on his shoulder. Everything within him screamed to kick and claw at the thing that was touching him, and he very nearly did until a familiar voice spoke up.

“Rigby,” it was Benson, and he sounded surprisingly calm. Rigby turned to look him in the eyes. “I want you and Mordecai to check the football field. Make sure that there’s no trash and if the grass needs mowing then do it.” 

Rigby huffed. “Wait, seriously? I thought we had today off!” He refused to believe it. How could Benson do this to them?

Benson grimaced. “Just do what I say.”

After taking a few moments to hiss and growl and spit, Rigby finally threw up his arms in surrender and stormed off. Mordecai soon followed closely behind him. But before he crossed the threshold of the kitchen, he could hear the flower chuckle in his mind.

"This’ll be so much fun."

Chapter Text

You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last, love has arrived

"Can't Take My Eyes off You" by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons

Mordecai trudged through the woods to get to the football field, following closely behind Rigby. Already he could tell from the tenseness in Rigby’s shoulders as well as the way that his tail lashed back and forth that he was frustrated. A shiver ran down his spine. Although he couldn’t exactly blame Rigby for still being mad.

It wasn’t exactly fun having to do work on the day that they were supposed to be off. Why had Benson given them work to do in the first place? It didn’t make any sense and thinking about it made him start to become frustrated too.

He wanted to say something, anything to break the awkward silence between them but anytime he tried a lump would form in his throat. Eventually he let it go, letting the sounds of the woods soothe some of his anxiety. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped underneath his sharpened talons. Birdsong wended its way through the trees and entered his ears. A feeling long buried beneath his heart began to rise, his need to answer becoming an ever-present pressure.

Tamping down the feeling was no longer an option and so; despite trying to fight against it, he let out a loud, piercing shriek. The birdsong ceased and even startled the free birds up in the trees, some flying away. Rigby’s ears flicked back in acknowledgement of what happened, but he still didn’t say anything.

Watching the way that Rigby walked made Mordecai want to reach out and touch him on the shoulder, maybe even bring him into a tight hug, to let him know that he was still there. That things would get better. But he couldn’t. Because if he did, he knew that Rigby would fall into that hypnotic lovey-dovey state. It was so selfish that part of him wanted to see him in that state again, that it made him wonder if Rigby really did love him like he said so or if it was just a side effect of the love pollen.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” “Because I totally will. I love you, dude. I’ve loved you since senior year. I didn’t have the guts to tell you back then, because you were dating Basil, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then...Francis was so nice to me. He would comfort me and stuff -- Heck! -- even taught me how to play Volleyball! I started thinking maybe...maybe I could be with him? I really did love him.” “But I think we both know what happened later..."

Jealousy coiled thickly around his heart, threatening to squeeze, as the words finally sank in: Rigby had been in love with Jablonski. Real love. All this time he had thought maybe, just maybe, that Jablonski had strongarmed him into a relationship but...now that Rigby had said that he did love the stupid, blonde jock...it changed everything. Mordecai shook his head. No, it didn't change everything. The jealousy dissipated, being replaced almost entirely by heavy guilt. If anything, it just made him more certain that if him and Rigby ever got into a relationship that he wouldn't treat him as terribly as Francis had.

Mordecai could still remember the feeling of Rigby’s lips against his beak, the husky way in which he spoke, declaring his supposed undying love for him. A shiver raced up his spine and fluffed out his feathers. He absentmindedly touched his wingtips to his beak, for a split second wanting more than anything to catch up to Rigby and kiss him again, just to see what would happen.

Do you really believe that Rigby will ever love you? a small all-too familiar dark voice in the back of his head whispered, He’ll never love you. Look what happened to Basil. You told her that you loved her and oops! she died right in front of you. What makes you think that Rigby won’t end up the same way?

That awful voice always hurt to hear but maybe it was right. Mordecai looked away from Rigby, he didn’t need to curse the little racoon with his own affection. It was better to say nothing. Don’t acknowledge it.

“Don’t acknowledge what? Your repressed feelings for Rigby?” Mordecai was violently startled from his thoughts when he heard that all-too familiar high, lilting, teasing voice caress his ears. He sucked in a quick breath, ready to scream, when the flower quickly added, “Please, please don’t scream. I don’t know if I could take another person screaming at me!”

Uncurling and curling his wings seemed to keep his fear at bay, but only slightly, especially considering how much his heart was thumping against his ribcage. He couldn’t believe that the flower was back to whispering in his ear again. Did it take turns talking to him and Rigby?

The flower giggled. “I do. I talk to you both because so far neither of you will say what you really feel for each other. Plus, it’s so lonely out here all by myself. . .” Was Mordecai imagining it or was there a note of wistfulness in her voice towards the end? He shook his head. There was no way that the flower was feeling anything other than devilish delight at his and Rigby’s current predicament.

“You’re all so mean!” she accused. “You think of me as some kind of bad guy. Do you even realize how I was made?!”

Suddenly the world went sideways, and Mordecai found himself pitched forward, pain throbbing in his tibiotarsus, as the realization came much too late that he had tripped over a gnarled tree root that was sticking up out of the ground. The dirt was hard and unforgiving as he landed face first onto it.

“Mordecai!” Rigby called out, fear drenching his voice. Mordecai wanted to call back and say that he was fine but quickly found that he couldn’t. On impact, all of the air had rushed from his lungs, he was left lying there, throbbing pain in his leg, and floundering for a breath that wouldn’t come.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, he thought helplessly. Rigby scurried into his line of sight; an equal amount of worry scrunched between his eyebrows and shining in his dark eyes. Soft paws brushed against Mordecai’s face, receding the terror inside of him, and his heart skipped a beat.

“No, you won’t,” the flower said and to Mordecai’s own surprise, she actually sounded rather kind this time around. “You might feel like it but you’re not going to die today, blue jay. Far from it.”

Thanks, but I still blame you for tripping me, dude, he thought, casting it out along the tether that seemed to stretch out into an endless void. Considering what Skips said about her, that she could read and communicate through minds, it would make a lot more sense for him to talk through his thoughts than to verbalize them.

She didn’t immediately respond, even after Rigby was able to help Mordecai up with a nearby tree branch. It was a lucky thing that his leg wasn’t broken, just bruised, the pain already receding. Rigby didn’t say anything to him but the worried look on his face said more than enough. They started up their walk to the football field again right as the flower’s voice came back.

“Hmm. . .your mental strength is about on par with Rigby’s. It’s no wonder that you two would make a great power couple.”

Mordecai tried to keep his focus on where he was going, to prevent another trip from happening, but when she said that he had to take a moment to pause. Did she really say that him and Rigby would make a great power couple? He couldn’t help but snort at that.

Rigby stopped dead in his tracks, the fur along his spine lifting up. “What are you laughing at, dude?” he snapped.

Mordecai flinched. “What crawled up your butt and died?”

A growl rose from Rigby’s throat, and he glared daggers at Mordecai before turning back around and stomping away. It left Mordecai feeling more confused than ever.

“I thought that you were pretty funny.”

Mordecai rolled his eyes. Of course you’d find me funny, you’re probably bored to death from being all alone out deep in the woods. 

The flower sighed. “It’s a lonely life but somebody’s got to live it.” Then she added, rather hastily, “So, have you gotten any closer to Rigby yet?”

No, why?

“Because it’s so boring waiting around for you two to finally confess!”

It wasn’t long before Mordecai found that, to his own budding surprise, that he actually somewhat enjoyed talking to the flower. Despite the fact that she had shoved him and Rigby into this awkward situation in the first place.

He grinded his beak. I don’t really know what to do. I think that the only reason that he ‘loves’ me right now is because of your pollen. 

The flower cackled, startling him. “You and Rigby both. Do you seriously believe the crap that you’re saying?”

Yeah, I do believe that. I’ve been cursed since birth. . .

“What makes you say that?” The flower sounded genuinely curious, giving Mordecai the courage to continue on with his train of thought.

My grandmother died the same moment that I was hatched. I can withstand extremely cold temperatures. And. . .and Basil, my first and only girlfriend, well, she was shot by a hunter right in front of me after I told her that I loved her. . .

Tears stung the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, and he furiously wiped them away

The flower went silent. He wondered if he scared her off. Bile rose in his throat as he thought that that’s all he’s ever done.

They eventually made it to the football field.  It was peaceful and quiet over there, with a soft breeze blowing through the air, ruffling the grass. It was a good thing that there was nobody here, at least there was no one here to watch them work and then eventually goof off. They don’t speak to each other and instead, for once, decided to focus on the tasks that Benson gave to them. Mordecai gathered up the trash in the grass while Rigby climbed up the bleacher steps and began to sweep them.

Mordecai tried to keep himself busy enough to stop the flow of poisonous thoughts that kept trying to enter his mind. The dark voice kept trying to tell him that Rigby would never see him in a romantic light. His feelings were artificial from the flower’s pollen. Maybe he should’ve just stuck with dating Margaret, although it was all too clear that neither one was right for the other.

He could still remember how disastrous their first and only date had gone.

They had decided to have a date at Margaret and Eileen’s apartment. Things were going well until they weren’t. Awkward, stilted conversations that led to nowhere notwithstanding.

It had been safe, claiming to have a crush on Margaret. And maybe he had finally deluded himself enough into having some kind of affection for the Northern Cardinal. Unless it was just an intense friendship feeling. That was probably it but don’t tell Mordecai that. He wouldn’t accept it for all the seeds in the world.

“So, uh, Margaret,” he began, frantically searching through his mind for some topic that they could talk about. His mind could go blank at the worst of times. And right now, was the worst of the times. “You, uh, you still. . .” a vise-like grip wrapped around his lungs, constricting tightly, and suddenly he wanted to up and bolt. “Um. . .”

Margaret seemed to notice his anxiety flaring, but didn’t draw attention to it, merely asking in that all—too familiar cool tone, “Eileen told me that Rigby told her that a monster attacked the park house. How’d that go? What did it look like?”

Mordecai perked up at the mention of his best friend—not to mention, secret crush—and with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, burning away the anxiety, he replied, “Oh, yeah. The monster. I almost forgot about that. Yeah, it was hideous! It was like a hairy sentient circle with a gaping maw and sharp teeth, a huge red eye. Really creepy!”

Margaret leaned forward on her elbows, utterly enraptured by his tale. “That does sound pretty creepy. Why did it attack the park house though? Did one of you guys summon it or something?”

“Nope.” Mordecai shook his head. “It just showed up, said something in some sort of garbled ancient language and then Skips and Rigby tag teamed it to beat it back into a portal.” When Margaret opened her beak, likely to ask about the portal, he added, “And before you ask, Skips summoned the portal. Something about it leading back to its home dimension. I didn’t catch all of it.”

“Ah.” Margaret placed her wings back onto her lap. “Right. It’s always Skips that comes through, right? Or at least, it sounds like it.” She gazed at him through half-lidded eyes.

Mordecai nodded. “Yeah, but Rigby helped.” A warmth ignited in his chest that hadn’t previously been there, it almost always showed up when he spoke about the little raccoon. “He was so awesome! It tried to eat me, but he ended up punching it right in the eye and driving it back.” Excitement rose his voice up an octave and then embarrassment prickled the back of his neck. He hadn't meant to speak of Rigby like that, like some kind of hero. It had just come as naturally as breathing.

And it seemed that Margaret had noticed too because suddenly she blinked and looked at him a bit more closely, a bit more critically, as if she could see right through him, straight into his heart.

“Mordecai, can I ask you something? And I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Can you do that for me?” she asked, sounding one hundred percent serious.

Mordecai blinked in surprise but nodded his head. She was a good and trustworthy friend. He felt that he could tell her virtually anything. He wondered what she would end up asking.

She cleared her throat, nervousness flickering across her face for a split second. Her wingtips drummed a nervous beat against the tabletop. “Do you. . .do you have a crush on Rigby?”

Suddenly it felt like the whole world was crashing down around him. Questions began racing through his mind, anxiety shooting high. Why had he been so obvious in his admiration for Rigby? He shouldn’t have brought up the fight with the monster at all.

“I-It’s okay if you do,” Margaret said frantically, probably realizing that he was internally freaking out by this point. “I just wanted the truth. I mean it’s no wonder that our conversations haven’t really gone anywhere tonight. . .except when you were talking about Rigby.” She let out a short, clipped laugh that rang hollow. “Um. . .but yeah. It’s okay, it’s cool if you like Rigby that way. I-I think I like Eileen that way. So, it won’t bother me if you answer honestly.”

Mordecai shot up out of his seat, his chair scraping against the wooden floorboards beneath. His wings flew out and gripped onto the edge of the table, bracing himself against it. He wanted to scream, to throw up, or maybe do a bit of both. Everything was free game by this point. He had kept such a tight leash — or at least that’s what it had felt like — on his own emotions regarding Rigby but in the end, it hadn’t mattered, had it? Margaret could still see through the facade. Which meant that. . .oh Grop. . .that Rigby could too.

The rest of what had happened was little more than a blur. At one point Margaret had tried to get up out of her own chair, likely to come over and see if Mordecai was okay, and instead he had yelled at her, his feathers puffing out in anger. He had snapped for her to keep her silly observations to herself and then he had stormed out of the apartment. 

One thing, however, that haunted him, even to this day, was when she had shouted back, frustration drenching her voice, her feathers puffed out just like his, “What are you so afraid of?!”

Regret had befallen him like a heavy cloud once he got into the hallway, but he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t face Margaret or his own feelings to boot. So, he kept walking. And walking, And walking. All the way back to the park. Refusing to even entertain the notion of telling Rigby about how he really felt about him. He tried to convince himself that it was for the better.

He didn’t need to tell him.

Maybe he never would.

Embarrassment prickled Mordecai’s cheeks and the back of his neck at the flashback. He quickly tried to ignore it by crouching down to pick up a discarded, empty water bottle when suddenly, he heard music begin to play from somewhere close by.

He quickly stood up, turning at just the right moment, spotting Rigby who was up on the highest bleacher step, microphone in hand. Mordecai cocked his head to the side, wondering what Rigby was trying to get at, when he began to sing.

“You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you~” Rigby sang into the microphone, at first his voice wavered as if he were on the verge of panic, but it didn’t take very long for the wavering to stop, for it to grow in strength, his confidence finally coming to fruition. The longer that he sang the more that his movements became more fluid, less stiff.

It hit Mordecai like a ton of bricks. Rigby was singing. Rigby was singing to him. Rigby was singing “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. He instantly felt rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend what was happening. All he could do was watch, entranced, as Rigby ran across the bleachers, belting his heart out alongside the song.

“You’re welcome~” The flower sing-songed into his ear.

Mordecai was startled. Had the flower planned this? And if so, why? Why was she so adamant on them getting together?

Huh? What do you mean by that? he shot back. 

“I used my super awesome power of persuasion.” she replied back, a giddiness to her voice. “‘Cause I’m just that awesome.”

Rigby moved across the bleachers, a tenseness to his movements at first and in his singing, but eventually Mordecai could see the confidence blossom. He felt his heart begin to pick up the beat, a warm tingling that spread throughout his body, his ankles becoming wobbly and weak. It was something that he hadn’t felt in such a long time. Something that he had thought was lost forever. But here it was, coming back full force and with a fierce vengeance.

Mordecai began to move towards him, it was like an out of body experience, like fishhooks in his core reeling him toward Rigby. Could this really be happening?

Rigby met him halfway, right as he ended the last line of the song. For once Mordecai found himself level with Rigby’s gaze. They gazed into each other’s dark eyes, searching for something, a signal that they both wanted this, for a few seconds before Mordecai finally grabbed Rigby by the shoulders, pulled him towards him, and kissed him on the lips.

A hot feeling erupted in his chest, like lava spewing from a volcano, setting his heart ablaze. He suddenly found himself yearning so fiercely for Rigby that for a second, he wondered how he ever lived without this feeling. A shiver seized him as he felt Rigby steadily run his paws through his chest feathers.

Eventually Rigby pulls away, probably needing to catch his breath. Mordecai opened his eyes up and they were both left to stare at each other, shock reverberating inside of him at what had just occurred. Rigby’s gaze roamed over Mordecai’s face and for an instant, for one split second, Mordecai believed that Rigby was going to kiss him again but instead Rigby’s face scrunched up, eyes watering, and he scurried off. Mordecai was left behind to stare at the spot from where Rigby once stood, the small breeze from earlier had picked up but he didn't notice.

It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water onto him. That hot feeling inside of his chest snuffed out entirely. He swallowed hard and tears pricked his eyes. This time he let them fall, unable to feel shame for it. Great sobs climbed their way up and out of him. At one point he was vaguely aware of kicking and punching the bleachers.

Eventually he slid down and sat in between the steps, letting the cool metal slowly bring him back to reality.

As he sniffled and wiped at his eyes, the flower’s voice came, sounding soft and a little sad. “Are you okay?”

No, he admitted as he buried his face into his wings, No, I’m not okay. I totally blew it. I know that no one’ll love me. I’m cursed. I’ll never find love. . .

“I’m sorry to hear that, blue jay. But just know that you’re not as alone as you think you are. Rigby is also dealing with a similar thing.”

That was enough to bring him partially out of his own self-pity fest. He snorted. You say that but he looked like he was about to throw up after we kissed. . . A weary sigh slipped past his beak.

The flower hummed. “I’m sorry. If I were able to, I’d surely give you a hug.”

Thanks, but I really just want to be left alone right now.

“That’s fair. But if you need me, just cast out your thoughts. I’ll hear them,” then she added, with a cynical bite, “What else am I supposed to do out here.”

The tether to his mind went slack and quiet, leaving him to watch as the clouds slowly made their way across the sky, being mindful not to stare too long at the sun, and the breeze swaying the grass this way and that. As much as being out here all by himself was nice, exhaustion was already pressing down on him and so, with nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and fell asleep despite the uncomfortable position he was in.

His dreams started out muddled and confusing. Most would start out normal and then things would quickly devolve into weirdness. Some were about embarrassing things that had happened to him during high school, like some of the jocks trying to push him out of a window, seeing if he could fly. Luckily Rigby and Jannett had come to his rescue. Jannett distracted them with some fake flirting while Rigby managed to drag him to the bathroom so that he could have an anxiety attack in peace.

But there was one dream that he had that would stick with him, always. The one about Basil.

He found himself in an achingly familiar forest. It was spring which meant there were no crispy Autumn leaves for him to crunch beneath his talons, just wet and muddy ones instead that would make his skin crawl anytime he stepped on them. His nightly walk took him to a clearing that had a patch of wild strawberries growing plentiful. Crouching down, he reached out to grab some for a quick snack when, suddenly, he heard a twig snap ahead of himself, somewhere in the thick bushes.

He stood up straight, feathers puffing out as a warning. Who could be out this late at night? A large, mottled brown-and-orange blur leapt out from the bushes and tackled him to the ground. He sucked in a quick breath, ready to shout, when a soft wing brushed over his beak. He glared up at the figure, his heart beating frantically against his ribcage, but his glare soon softened when he noticed the familiar, sharp dark eyes staring down at him.

“Got you,” the Red-tailed Hawk said, teasingly, a smile turning the corners of her beak upwards, “You’re so bad at this game, Mordecai. It’s almost like you want me to pin you down.” Mordecai rolled his eyes and huffed, but relief swept through him, knowing that it was just Basil that had gotten to him and not some other bird of prey looking for a quick snack.

Her sharp gaze softened. “What? Got nothin’ to say, blue jay? Wanna stare at me for the rest of the night? Gaze at me adoringly like I’m some kind of goddess perhaps?”

Mordecai grinned dopily. “Maybe.” Laughter bubbled out of him as Basil playfully shoved at him and got up, dusting herself off with her massive wings. “What Baz? I thought that you wanted the truth,” he said teasingly back. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe that you chose a guy like me.”

Basil huffed a short laugh but bent down and helped him back up onto his talons. “And I think I’ve told you before but if you need the reminder. . .you’re not just ‘some guy’. You’re sweet and funny, way better for me than those loser jocks that harass me and the other cheerleaders all the freakin’ time.”

A blush stung Mordecai’s cheeks as he realized that their wings were still entwined together. It didn’t seem to bother Basil or if it did, she was keeping it under wraps. “Seriously, if it wouldn’t get me into trouble, I would’ve swiped my talons across their stupid, arrogant faces and flogged them all a long time ago. Jannett keeps begging me to, but if I do, I’m liable to lose my cheerleading scholarship to College University.”

Mordecai blinked and nodded; he knew all too well how frustrating dealing with the jocks could be. “They always think that they’re so great,” he said as he slipped his wing out from hers. She turned to look at him and the very air crackled around them. Mordecai paused, wondering if he should kiss her right now. They had been dating for a few months but surely it was the perfect time to finally have their first kiss.

Basil cocked her head to the side. “What'cha thinking about, Mordecai?” Mischief danced in her eyes. 

“I, uh,” he began and stopped, embarrassment searing his cheeks and the back of his neck. His thoughts frantically jumped around in his mind and tangled, and then he blurted out, “We should go flying!”

“O-Okay?” Basil responded, arching an eyebrow at him. “Of course we can fly. But I was kind of figuring out if you wanted to do or say something else.” She was always so perceptive, she could always see right through him. He wanted to kiss her as a distraction or say that he loved her but found that he couldn’t right now. Maybe once they were airborne, he’d finally come out with the words.

They ended up climbing a tree and then leaping out and flying up above the forest. The moon and sky were being obscured by thick, dark clouds. Of course, even if there were no clouds out Mordecai and Basil still wouldn’t be able to see it. It was a new moon tonight.

“So, uh,” Mordecai began nervously, “about the future. What’re you going to do once we graduate?”

Basil hummed for a bit before clenching her sharpened talons together, excitement visibly shaking her. “That’s a good question. And to that I say, I want to be a doctor!” she exclaimed. “I’m really good at the whole healing business.”

Mordecai smiled softly, reminded of when he had broken his left wing a few months ago and she was able to set it back by just using some sticks and long grass stems. She was always so smart and resourceful. It was one of the many things that he loved about her.

“Sooooo.” She swooped over to him and even did a barrel roll, just to show off. “What’re you going to do once we graduate? ‘Cause I can totally see you doing something in music or art.”

“I want to go to art school.”

Basil smiled. “Yep. I figured as much.” she admitted and then chuckled softly. “Y’know, I’ve had dreams of us getting married and having kids. You’d stay at home and watch over them while I went off and did doctor stuff.” A nervous look flitted across her face and Mordecai pecked a quick kiss on the cheek.

“It sounds like a good future,” he agreed. 

“Really?” When he nodded, she scoffed and smacked her wing against his. “No, you’re joking. You’ve got to be. No way a guy just agrees to that. No complaints.”

Mordecai bumped his cheek against hers. “Well, it’s a good thing that I love you, right?”

Basil gasped, a delighted look on her face, and she was getting ready to say something when. . .a gunshot sounded from far below them. There was no time for confusion. One moment he and Basil were flying and then the next thing that he knew — BAM! — she was spiraling out of the sky. He dove down, determination flooding his system, following her as she fell a great distance and then smacked against the hard packed earth.

He frantically crawled over to where her body lay limp. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if she herself was in a state of shock too. He didn’t want to look at the damage, too busy dragging her onto his lap as gently as he could and brushing her long feathery bangs out of her scrunched-up face. Her dull gaze flicked up and found him. Terror and tears shone in her eyes. 

“M—Mordecai?” she said quietly, oh so quietly. “I—I. . .I’m so cold. . .”

Mordecai wanted to scream, to throw up, to run away. What was he supposed to do? He had never experienced something like this before. He could call an ambulance but that meant leaving her behind and having to search for a telephone booth. And there probably wasn’t one anywhere close to the forest. And he couldn’t leave her. He just couldn’t do it; he couldn’t let her die alone. He refused to despite the icy-cold fear that steadily spread through him.

Mordecai sucked in quick, frantic gulps of air, but it never seemed to be enough, his lungs burned like he had swallowed a lit match. Fear crept up his spine, fluffing out his feathers. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay Basil. D’you hear me? I’m right here. You’ll be okay, I—I. . .” Tears stung his eyes and fell freely, dripping onto Basil’s beak.

A weak smile graced her pretty face. “I love you too, Mordecai.” And then her smile fell slack and the light in her eyes extinguished. Her chest rose once and then fell, never to rise again. One singular thought entered Mordecai’s mind: she’s dead. Sorrow washed over him like a wave crashing against the shoreline and finally he let it all go. Great sobs wracked his lean frame as he cried over her.

One thing became very clear that awful night. 

He should’ve never told her that he loved her.

He was destined to kill anyone that he said he loved.

He finally understood that.

Mordecai startled awake. Terror seized him straight to the core. His heart pounded frantically against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to fly away from the awful nightmare. It was only after taking in deep, calming breaths in through his nares, out through his beak that he finally noticed that the sun was beginning to set, throwing streaks of pinks and purples underneath the clouds.

Images of Basil’s broken body flitted through his mind, and he covered his ears with his wings and screamed. He screamed until his throat hurt and then until his voice went hoarse. And even then, he still wanted to scream. Suddenly he wanted Rigby. Rigby always helped him through a nightmare, just like he always helped the little racoon through them too. It was always given and take between them. And Mordecai wanted Rigby more than he could bear to just be here, to hug him and tell him that things would be alright.

But they wouldn’t be alright.

He was cursed.

Cursed with the burden of loving people but never able to tell them as much.

It was a lonely path, but somebody had to walk it.

Oh, Basil, he thought forlorn, where’d you go? Did you make it to the In-Between or somewhere else? Are you a ghost wandering around, watching over me? I bet I look so pathetic to you. . .

“You don’t seem pathetic to me,” The flower said softly. 

Mordecai stood up, curling and uncurling his wings. I didn’t think that you could hear that.

“I’m always listening,” she replied honestly. “Like I said before, It’s lonely out here. So, I listen to someone’s mental plea of love or longing.”

I figured.

“So, who’s this Basil that you were talking to?”

Mordecai narrowed his eyes, glaring at a spot just beyond the bleachers. He didn’t feel like talking to the flower right now. Maybe he could just ignore her for now and then she’d eventually grow bored and leave him alone.

“Hello?” she called.  “Are you still there?”

Leave me alone.

The flower laughed. “What crawled up your butt and died?” When he didn’t reply right away, she said, “Get it? ‘Cause I used your words from earlier. See, I can learn. Lily and Jade were so wrong about me.”

Anger shot through Mordecai, seizing his limbs, making him shake like a leaf in a mighty storm. A growl rose up in his throat and he let it out. 

You never should’ve sprayed Rigby! This is all your fault, dude. This whole rift between him and me is all thanks to you! I wish that I could just cure him and be done with this whole thing.

“Is that what you really want, blue jay? Or is it simply projection on your part?”

All of the tension in his body drained immediately. “I. . .I don’t know,” he admitted out loud. The words haunted him as he walked back to the house. The very moment that he stepped up onto the landing of the staircase, Benson and Skips emerged from the living room. Skips’s fur was ruffled and Benson’s gumballs in his dome were a deep scarlet, as if he were blushing.

Mordecai took one tired glance at them and asked, rather harshly, “Did you seriously send me and Rigby to the football field just so that you guys could have a make out session?”

Benson stiffened. “Erm, no.” To his credit he did look rather guilty even as he tried to play it off. “I really needed you and Rigby to clean it up.”

“We did,” Skips replied bluntly.

Mordecai wasn’t the least bit surprised.

Benson gasped and playfully smacked Skips on the shoulder. “We said that we’d keep it a secret!” The yeti didn’t seem perturbed by it at all, merely shrugging the same shoulder that Benson had hit.

“There’s nothing wrong with being truthful, Benson.”

Benson sighed and leaned against him. “Only you could say that and make it sound romantic.”

As the two playfully bantered Mordecai felt a rush of envy and finally snapped, “Stop acting all lovey-dovey, it’s driving me crazy! You guys don’t have to flaunt your love all over the place!” Skips stared at him and Benson scoffed and walked away. Mordecai rubbed the back of his head, shame burning him from the inside out for his sudden outburst. “I’m sorry, Skips.”

Skips gave him a critical glance before simply motioning him to the couch and they sat down. Mordecai sank into the couch cushion, exhaustion weighing on him again, he suddenly wanted for this day to be over already.

“What happened?” Skips asked.

With a heavy sigh, Mordecai told him about what happened at the football field, excluding the dream about Basil, he couldn’t recount that to anyone anyways without bawling his eyes out, so he decided to skip over it. No use in letting Skips know about it anyways.

Skips didn’t seem perturbed about it at all, merely nodding and looking at him with a stoic expression on his face. “It’s no wonder that Rigby ran in here bawling his eyes out.”

Mordecai shot up off the couch, ready to go and comfort him, but Skips pulled him back down with a firm yet gentle grip around his wing. Mordecai yanked his wing to his side and snapped, “I need to go and talk to him, dude!”

“Calm down, Mordecai. Pops has been talking to him since he came back.”

Mordecai sucked in a deep breath through his nares and let it out through his beak, but he was left still feeling agitated as if a pile of mites had been dumped into his feathers. He quickly looked down at the carpet only to find that he was gouging holes into it with his sharpened talons. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the house so badly.

Skips’s calm, piercing gaze roamed over him before he said, “Have you given any thought into what you’re going to do about Rigby’s condition?”

There it was. The million-dollar question.

“I don’t know,” confessed Mordecai softly. It was raw honesty. He had no clue what to do about it. Now that he was finally able to sit down and really think about it, he couldn’t say ‘I love you’ to Rigby. Not because he didn’t love the little racoon with all of his aching heart, but because if he said it then surely Rigby would die. Just like Basil. “I don’t think that I can. . .I do. . .I really want to say it to him, but I just can’t.”

Skips frowned. “Well, if that’s the case then at least we have a backup plan. In the letter that Jade sent to me last night, she says that she has the cure for the love pollen with her.”

“Are you saying that we can go to her house and get it?”

“Yes,” Skips said confidently. “I don’t trust the mail to deliver it safely. So, our best bet is to drive to her house and retrieve it, which shouldn’t take longer than half a day’s travel to get to.”

Mordecai clasped trembling wings together and thought about it. After a few quiet moments passed he sat up straight and said, “Okay. Let’s go tonight. Let’s do this.”

A look of surprise flashed across Skips’s face. “Are you sure about this? Why do you feel like you can’t tell Rigby that you love him? And not in a platonic way, I mean in a romantic way.”

Mordecai swallowed hard, silently willing the lump in his throat to go away. “Yeah, Skips. I want this. I want Rigby to be free of the love pollen, I don’t want him to just love me because of it,” he said, even as a part of him broke while saying it.

“If you really want that.” Skips frowned and got up off the couch. “Come by the garage in about ten minutes, I should have the van up and running by then.”

Mordecai nodded and Skips left the house, leaving the blue jay to sit and stew in his own emotions. Eventually though he got up and turned around in enough time to see Rigby crouched down on the stairs, staring at him through the handrails. Mordecai flinched and said, “H-Hey dude. I was about to come up to see how you were. . .”

Rigby scoffed. “Yeah, right. I heard you and Skips talking. Were you guys seriously going to leave without saying goodbye?” Was Mordecai imaging it or was there a note of hurt in his voice? “Did you really mean it?” Yep, there it was again. His voice was breaking.

Mordecai flexed his talons, unable to answer Rigby. He wasn’t sure what to say. Rigby clenched his paws into tiny fists and stomped down the stairs, all the while pleading and begging with him. “Dude, listen, I don’t think that this is a good idea. What if Lily shows up and tries to do something to you or Skips? What if. . .what if the cure doesn’t work on me?” His paws thudded against the landing. “You got to reconsider.”

Mordecai quickly looked away. “Why? Don’t you hate being under the love spell? Don’t you wish that you could finally escape from it?”

Rigby scoffed. “You’re deflecting, dude. I heard what you said to Skips.” Mordecai’s heart rate sped up. “You love me, don’t you?”

Mordecai finally met his gaze and nearly flinched at the hope shining in his dark eyes. Did Rigby really want it to be true? Could it be that maybe, just maybe he could say the words and then things could finally go back to normal?

“I. . .uh. . .Skips meant it in a totally platonic way, dude!” Mordecai said, desperation edging his tone, but his hope quickly wilted as Rigby shook his head.

Rigby pointed to Mordecai with a trembling claw, lashing his tail, and said in a low voice, “I might not be the smartest person, Mordecai. But I have ears, and I heard what you and Skips both said. You love me. I know that you do. Why else would you have kissed me on the bleachers?!”

“L-Look dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fear crept up his spine, fluffing out his feathers.

Rigby gave him an unamused look. “You’re blushing,” he said bluntly.

Mordecai’s eyes widened and he rubbed his wingtips over his cheeks, trying to make the stinging sensation go away. Anxiety and embarrassment prickled his face and the back of his neck, his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage, panic settling in his chest like a stone tossed into a river. Grinding his beak, he stiffened his spine and walked towards the door.

He didn’t need to answer. He needed to get to Skips and find the cure.

Rigby turned, watching him go with a pinched expression on his face. “Dude, where are you going? We’re not done here.” But Mordecai refused to answer him. He didn’t need to and so he wouldn’t. But right as he stopped in front of the front door, reaching out to grab the doorknob, a loud snarl broke the crackling tension between them.

“What are you afraid of, man?!” he shouted, fear and desperation drenching his voice. “Seriously, you kissed me on the bleachers, and we’re not even going to try and address that?! You can kiss me, but you can’t say three little words?!”

Mordecai turned just enough to glare right back at him, fear and self-loathing rattling his lean frame. “I can’t say it yet because you don’t love me!”

“Yes, yes I do!” he growled.

“YOU ONLY LOVE ME BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID LOVE POLLEN!”

Rigby gasped and flinched like he'd been hit. Mordecai turned back to grab the doorknob, determined to twist it and get out of this house with this awful tension crackling between him and Rigby. He paused however when he felt a pair of eyes boring into the back of his skull. His resolve wavered for a split second and suddenly he did want to tell Rigby that he loved him, but that dark voice comes barreling back at the worst of times.

Remember Basil? R emember what happened the last time that you told someone that you loved them? Oh, right, they died right in front of you. Do you really want that on your wings again?

“Dude, the last time that I told someone that I loved them, they. . .” his breath hitched in his throat as he rushed out the rest, “they died right in front of me.” Then he opened up the door, leaving a shocked Rigby behind.

Tremors seized his whole body; equal parts fear — for alluding aloud to what happened to Basil — and self-loathing — for not just admitting to his own feelings for Rigby. As he began to stomp toward Skips’s garage he couldn’t help but wonder if Rigby would forgive him when and if he came back.

Frustration rose up in his chest like lava out of a volcano when the flower’s voice caressed his ear. “Where are you going off to?”

Mordecai rolled his eyes in exasperation, but he answered. I’m going with Skips to get the cure for Rigby.

The flower gasped. “What? Why would you do that? Don’t you love Rigby? Why can’t you just say how you truly feel for him?”

Mordecai glared daggers at the open air, wishing that the flower could see it. But considering that she probably couldn’t, he’d just have to snap at her and hope that it was enough. Stay out of it, I’m trying to right the wrong that you caused.

“He loves you so much and you can’t even deign to say three words to him! All because of what — because you’re so scared that he might die?!” she said, her usually high-pitched voice going lower, sounding much more dangerous, like a genuine threat, “Don’t you realize that he’ll die by the end of the week if you don’t say it? So, what does it matter if he dies after you say it? At least he would die knowing that you love him just as much as he loves you!”

Mordecai hissed, letting out distressed bird noises. He wanted to tear his own feathers out. He wanted to scream until his throat became sore. Anxiety rose and fell over him like angry ocean waves. The flower was right. She was so right. He really should go back in there and say what he had always wanted to say to Rigby. But he couldn’t.

“Yes. You. Can.” The flower sounded disgusted with his own cowardice. “You’re right, I did start this whole situation. But I’ve known you two for an entire day. I can see how much you both want each other. Why can’t you just give that a try? Wouldn’t this ‘Basil’ person want you to move on?”

GO AWAY! he shouted inside of his head, wanting there to be peace and quiet. A single moment for him to sort out his emotions.

To his own surprise, however, she sniffled. “You’re just like Lily."

Mordecai paused, confusion clouding his brain, wondering who in the world that was before quickly remembering that she was mentioned by the flower before as being one of her makers. He felt insulted but decided that he couldn’t care anymore. Today was utterly exhausting. 

Eventually he made it to Skips’s garage and knocked on the door. The door lifted up and Skips drove out. Mordecai hopped into the passenger seat.

If only Mordecai had looked in the mirror, he would’ve seen Rigby chasing after the van and then stopping dead in his tracks with his paw outstretched and a tearful look on his face.

Chapter Text

Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me

"Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

Rigby walked back to the house, that all-too familiar feeling of utter dejectedness following him closely like a panther on the prowl.

Tears pooled in his dark eyes and, considering that no one was around, he let them fall, not even bothering to wipe them away. A few whimpers and sobs slipped past sharpened ivory-teeth grinding together.

The only thing playing in his head was the still-fresh argument between him and Mordecai from just a few minutes ago. 

The shared explosive words still ringing in his ears, the way in which he had flinched away when Mordecai snapped and yelled, and then the horrible feeling of his heart clenching behind his rib cage.

“YOU ONLY LOVE ME BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID LOVE POLLEN!”

Was it true? Could it be that Rigby only loved Mordecai because of the love pollen?

No, he thought as he stomped his foot into the dirt, frustration steadily rising within him like a tsunami, No, I’ve always loved him. . .except when I was dating Francis but whatever, this isn’t because of the flower. It’s because he’s just scared. . .why’s he so scared to just say three little words?!

He expected the flower to speak to him but there was nothing but silence echoing back in his mind. The tether between them was slackened as if the flower no longer wanted to speak to him. Did Mordecai make her upset? Was she sleeping? Maybe plotting more convoluted ways to mess with his life?

" Dude, the last time that I told someone that I loved them, they. . .” Rigby could remember hearing Mordecai’s breath hitching in his throat as he rushed out the rest, “they died right in front of me.” Remembering  the way that Mordecai had trembled as if there was a mighty earthquake happening inside of him. The waver in his voice as if he were on the verge of tears.

Rigby wondered if Mordecai had been referring to Basil, his ex-girlfriend from Junior year of high school. He could still picture the intense, yet fun-loving, Red-tailed hawk that Mordecai had fallen head over heels so suddenly. 

Those sharp, yellow eyes that would always look straight through someone, to their very soul. Her raucous laughter that would echo through the hallways.

He had been so critical of her initially until they’d ended up on a double date at a Denny’s. Mordecai with Basil and Rigby with Francis. It had been super awkward, what with Francis’s obvious dislike of other animals, always making a slight exception for Rigby, and Basil constantly "accidentally" kicking Francis in the shin with her talons locked in steel combat claws or as she called it “her family’s heirloom”.

---

Eventually Francis left the table to use the bathroom, obviously angry, and Mordecai got up out of his chair saying something about “needing some fresh air”, leaving Rigby and Basil behind.

“Oh dear, it looks like our dates have abandoned us,” she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. If it wasn’t for the easy-going smile on her beak, Rigby would’ve assumed she was mad. She drummed her wingtips on the table for a while and then said, suddenly, “So, how long have you and Mordecai known each other? He talks a lot about you, says you're his bestest friend in the entire world.”

Rigby startled, having stared off into space, waiting for Francis and Mordecai to come back, wondering what in the world he could say to Basil. “Uh. . .right! We’ve, uh, we’ve been friends since, like, preschool.”  

After taking a deep soothing breath, he finally lifted his gaze only to meet Basil’s and realize how much warmth was in it. Did she know? Did she know that he had crushed hard(still crushed) on Mordecai? Would she hate him for it like Francis did?

“I see. . .” She reached out and grabbed hold of a packet of pepper. He watched with fascination as she ripped and spilled the contents out onto the table, then she grabbed a packet of salt and did the same thing. The scrunched up concentration on her face was enough for Rigby to ask, “What’re you trying to do?”

Excitement lit up her yellow eyes and she said, casually, “I’m about to do some devil stuff here in a minute.” Once she was done mixing the salt and pepper into a tiny hill, she whispered something under her breath and the mixture came alive! Rigby couldn’t believe his own eyes!

Basil twirled the salt and pepper mixture and morphed it into the shape of a bird.

“How —!” Rigby started and then stopped, due to the voice crack of excitement, and then continued after a quick cough, “How’re you able to do that, dude?! That’s so cool!”

She smiled. “Well, y’see, my family isn’t exactly normal by any means.” The salt-and-pepper bird flew around the perimeter of the table and even landed on Rigby’s nose for a moment. “We possess a certain flair for the dramatics: Magic. Or as some of the oldies like to call us: Witches or Magicae. It’s usually genetic but sometimes if you’re born in the — what they call — Outer Territories , you’ll get it from giant crystals growing up out of the ground!” 

Her voice went low, and Rigby found himself leaning in closer, wanting more, “They say that a giant dragoness with six ears and galaxy eyes from outer space died there and then the forest formed on her decaying corpse!” Basil chuckled and said, “Well, if you believe that lame story, anyways.”

Rigby stared at her with pure excitement in his eyes, wanting to believe, more than anything, that magic existed. If he went to the Outer Territories he could get some magic and finally be able to defend himself from Francis! Maybe he could finally work up the courage to ask Mordecai out but — oh wait — he was dating Basil.

“Uh, you okay?” Basil made a small gesture with her wing and the salt-and-pepper bird dissolved back into a tiny hill on the table. “You look kinda disappointed.”

“YOU SHOULD TOTALLY TAKE ME THERE ONE DAY!” Rigby burst out suddenly and then felt the familiar sting of embarrassment at the back of his neck. But he didn’t care at the moment, too focused on Basil and her story of magic.

She gave him a surprised look. “Are you sure about that? I’ve heard that the place is now guarded by the dragoness’s life-making nature child and her plant-loving skunk-wife alongside their army of adopted magical children.”

That just made Rigby want to go there even more. He told her so himself, his voice rising again with unadulterated excitement.

“Okay, okay,” she said with laughter sputtering in between each word, happy crinkles appearing beneath her eyes and in her cheeks, “Fine! Fine ! I will take you and Mordecai there one day. I promise.”

He gasped. “You’ll take Mordecai too?! Oh this’ll be so much fun! I can’t wait to see the look on his beautiful face!” Then it hit him like a lightning rod, too late, it had slipped out like a serpent from a cage — his secret.

But much to Basil’s own credit she didn’t seem perturbed or discomfited at all, rather she simply gave Rigby a knowing look. One that said, Oh, I see you. I see who you really are.

“Beautiful face, huh? So you see it too.” A devilish grin had split across her beak and she said, casually, while tracing her straw around in a circle within her glass of Dr. Pepper, “It’s too bad he’s so oblivious to his own beauty.”

Rigby, who shrank in his seat, waiting for the blowback of her own anger, seeing that she wasn’t mad at all, finally replied, “Yeah, but it’s Mordecai ! He wouldn’t recognize that even if you put a mirror up in front of him!”

Basil snorted and then threw her head back and cackled, loudly, clutching at her stomach. Her laughter was thoroughly contagious, making Rigby chuckle alongside her even if every other person in the restaurant were staring at them.

Eventually they both wiped away their tears and Basil put a wing out. Rigby took it in his paw, suddenly noticing how soft her feathers were, as she said, “I know about your little itsy bitsy crush on Mordecai. It’s alright. I think he had or, I guess, still has a crush on you? Anyways, point being, I don’t mind. If he and I were to ever break up I’d want him to get with you. Mostly so you can get away from Francis Jerk blonski.”  

The sudden flames in her eyes were enough that if it were possible she surely would’ve burned or caught something on fire with them by now. Then she shook her head and her expression softened. “And, besides, between you and me, you don’t deserve a guy like Francis. You deserve someone way better for you. . .like. . .Lucien. Lucien isn’t seeing anyone right now, and he likes guys!”

He should’ve been touched by the fact that Basil knew and didn’t care about his complicated feelings for the oblivious blue jay, or the fact that he was in an obviously bad relationship with Francis but. . .something about it stung regardless.

“Thanks Basil, but I’m chill. Francis is — ” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t let her know what he does to you late at night when no one else is around. Don’t tell her about how he forced you to stop wearing dresses, calls you a sissy, and makes you hate yourself more than you already do. “— He’s not that bad. Y’know, he gave me a bouquet of roses this morning.” 

The horrible thought of: Yeah, and he made such a big deal about it! invaded his mind but he was more than determined to not let it show. The last thing that he wanted was for Basil to pity him or pick a fight with Francis.

Basil frowned but let her wing remain in his paw, as if she were trying to comfort him. “Whatever you see in him, I certainly can’t. But that’s alright, I guess. Just. . .if he is hurting you, you’ll tell me or Mordecai or Jannett, right? ‘Cause we care about you, Rigby. A ton! And I don’t think any of us wants you to be in a relationship that you feel you can’t escape.”

For the briefest moment Rigby wanted to tell her everything. For the briefest second he wanted to spill the beans and beg for her to protect him against Francis. But in the end he lied to her. A small lie to protect them; his friends. He could handle his horrible boyfriend by himself.

“I’m good,” was the short, clipped response to her pouring her own heart out.

She sighed. “Okay, but let’s at least shake it on. If you ever need help, for any reason, just let us know. No matter how bad it is.”

And so, seeing no other way out, Rigby had shook on it, even though he convinced himself that Mordecai would never look his way. And silently thinking to himself that he would never be able to break free from Francis’s control.

---

Rigby shook his head, clearing the memories away like sticky cobwebs left in an abandoned corner, remembering the past came with wishing and regret for what had happened Before. Longing and missing Basil and Jannett. He often wondered what had happened to Jannett, did she finally achieve her dreams of becoming a rock star?

Her parents’ home number was somewhere in the cobwebs of his mind. Maybe he should call and see how she was doing. But not right now, right now he just wanted to lay in bed and do nothing but sleep forever. Stave off the horrible feelings swirling and coalescing in his chest.

He slowly trudged through the muddy front yard and finally made it back to the house. After slipping in through the still-unlocked front door, he forced himself to remember to lock it. A jolt of surprise shot through him when he saw Pops sitting on the couch. The TV was off so what in the world was he doing?

Just go to bed, he told himself as he placed his right foot onto the first step, go to bed and stop worrying about Pops or thinking about the past or any of that crap. His tail flicked back and forth in agitation as his ears flattened against his skull.

It seemed that luck was not on his side that night as right when he put pressure on the stair step, it let out a devious creak! immediately betraying where he was. Rigby immediately wanted to scream and tear his fur out.

Pops gasped and turned around, facing Rigby with a delighted smile on his round face. “Oh, Rigby! I was wondering when you’d finally come back. Have you decided to watch the Telly too?”

“No, Pops,” he said gruffly but not unkindly, “I just wanna go to bed. . .”

Pops frowned. “Oh dear , did something occur between you and Mordecai?” Concern shone in his eyes and Rigby faltered. 

After all, Pops was the one who helped him earlier after he ran inside bawling his eyes out. Pops had been the one to comfort and tell him that he was very brave to make the move to kiss Mordecai. Not a single ounce of judgement from the lollipop man at all.

Something tightened in Rigby’s chest as he said, “Can we talk about it in the morning? I’m really tired.”

“Of course!” said Pops sweetly. “Run along now and dream sweet dreams!” Then he turned back his attention to the still-off TV. Rigby raised a brow at that but decided to just save it for the morning.

Rigby went up the rest of the stairs and inside he and Mordecai’s bedroom. He  flopped down onto Mordecai’s bed, groaning loudly into the pillow. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to tear his claws in and destroy it just to get his own frustrations out and he very nearly did until a sharp pain jabbed him in the heart; like an arrow being shot through a target.

A whimper punched out of his throat as he put a shaky paw to his chest. He opened up his mouth, ready to say Mordecai’s name only for reality to come crashing down on him that the blue jay was gone. Left with Skips to get the cure for the love pollen. 

The trembling that began in his paws started to overtake his whole body and soon his breaths turned shaky and tears quickly stung his eyes, threatening to fall again.

Damnit, Mordecai, why’d you have to leave tonight? he thought miserably as he quickly got up and out of bed. After some searching he was able to find an old mixtape and put it into the stereo system just to have some kind of noise to block out the pain and terror. 

He flinched. 

It turned out to be that old mixtape that Mordecai had made for him back in high school. Various songs included: "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" by ABBA, “Funkytown” by Lipps Inc., “About a Girl” by Nirvana, “Moskau” by Dschinghis Khan, “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John, and “Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)” by A Flock of Seagulls.

His eyes flicked to the homemade song list. “Yeesh, did I really used to listen to that stuff?” he said humorlessly. 

Silence greeted him. 

In any case the music was able to soothe his mind enough to stop the terror from consuming him completely. Eventually he was able to settle back down into bed, covered himself with Mordecai’s galaxy blanket, and slowly slipped into a troubled sleep.

Because Rigby had been thinking of Basil and of Francis, it only made sense that his brain decided to force him to re-live and have a nightmare based around the time that Francis had broken his arm in a fit of rage.

Rigby found himself in a vaguely familiar room; dusty dark brown carpet beneath his feet, a large king-sized bed in the far-right corner with its covers thrown back and rumpled, as well as dark blue walls decorated with various metal band posters; there was something about this room that had the fur along his neck rising up.

Then his gaze flicked to the left: a door — an exit! A way for him to get away from whatever the heck this place was. 

He went up to it and was just about to reach out for the doorknob when the door swung back to reveal the trauma inducer himself: Francis Jablonski. 

It was as if the man had walked straight out of a memory from high school; same impeccably neat blonde hair, those calculating, piercing blue eyes, and that stupid crimson volleyball jacket. 

Speaking of those blue eyes. . .they were already trained on him. Rigby had the distinct feeling of wanting to crouch down and vanish into the floor, whatever that man was plotting wasn’t good.

“Lookie who finally decided to show up tonight,” he said, condescension dripping from each word like venom from a snake. “I’ve been waiting hours for you! Where were you, babe? You know that you’re the life of the party. C’mon, let’s go downstairs together.”

Rigby shook his head. He didn’t like being around Francis’s other friends, especially at some dumb party. “No!” He took a step away from Francis. “Can’t we just stay up here? Maybe lay in bed and cuddle and watch a movie?”

The last thing that he needed right now was for Francis’s terrible jock friends to leer down at him or look at him like he was a bug needing to be squashed beneath their shoes.

Fear wrapped tightly around his heart like a noose as some dark emotion flickered across Francis’s face for a split second before smoothing out into a half-grin. “Aw, babe, I know you wanna make up for what happened yesterday but c’mon, we gotta show our friends how good we are for each other,” he said slyly, with a knowing glint in his eyes.

It suddenly felt as if all of the breath that had been sucked from Rigby’s lungs. “What. . .?” he choked, trying to force himself to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. “What uh — What happened yesterday?” 

Did he really forget something that happened between him and Francis? Was it a way for his brain to try and protect him?

And besides, Francis knew that his friends weren’t Rigby’s. Francis just liked saying that because he clearly thought his friends were so much more superior than Mordecai, Jannett, and Basil.

(Lucien too.

Lucien was actually pretty chill for him to be one with the Volleybock jocks. Rigby remembered the pink-haired fae guy with cat-eyes tricking Chaz into wandering around outside the school clad only in his underwear. And all because Chaz had tried to kiss Rigby just to humiliate him in front of everyone else.)

Francis’s grin grew as he finally took note of Rigby’s growing discomfort. “If you forgot about it, then clearly it wasn’t that important,” he said condescendingly. “I mean, c’mon babe, you’re always forgetting stuff. Remember when you forgot our one-month anniversary?”

Icy-cold dread dripped down Rigby’s spine as he protested, “But I didn’t forget! I swear , it’s on the 15th!” Whenever he was around Francis he almost always ended up feeling as if he were going crazy.

Francis’s grin fell, in an instant, it was replaced with a thin-lipped smile. “This isn’t funny, Rigby. I get that you’re like, mad at me still or whatever just ‘cause I called you dumb but you’re gonna go downstairs with me and pretend that we’re a picture-perfect couple!”

Rigby growled. “No.”

Francis narrowed his eyes. “What did you just say?”

Despite the terror steadily consuming him, he repeated, sounding stronger than before, “No, Francis! I don’t wanna go down there with your stupid, lame-o friends and their stupid jerk attitudes! I’m sick of ‘em always staring at me like I’m the gunk on the bottom of their shoes!” The fur along his neck and back rose up as he added, shouting, “I JUST WANT A NICE BOYFRIEND, IS IT REALLY THAT HARD FOR YOU TO BE NICE?! JUST ONCE IN YOUR PATHETIC LIFE?!”

Thankfully his explosive shouting was muffled by the bedroom walls. Otherwise the jock pack would’ve come up and started asking questions.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes and he let them fall, not even bothering to wipe them away, trying to make Francis recognize that what he was doing was hurting him. Maybe if Francis finally saw him cry then he’d stop being such a douchebag.

“I just want —!” Great sobs wracked his small frame, and it took a few moments for him to compose himself before continuing, “I just want someone who’ll hold me and tell me that they love me. Someone that’ll make me laugh and wipe away my tears when I’m sad. Someone who isn’t trying to make me cry. Every. Single. Day!”

Francis scoffed. “And I’m not that person?”

Rigby stared at him through the tears obscuring his vision, utterly dumbfounded by his boyfriend's utter lack of sympathy. Not even his own dad was that cruel; and that was certainly saying something.

Silence permeated the air between them.

Utter silence.

Silence so thick that you could cut it with a knife; or drop a pin and let it ring.

Francis scoffed again and reached out, maybe to touch Rigby on the shoulder or something, and Rigby really, really did not want to be touched.

All of the respect he had all of the love that he afforded to the blonde jock — evaporated in an instant like dew on the grass when the sun first appeared over the horizon. Replaced almost immediately by a sickening mix of self-hatred and anger.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Rigby. . .” said Francis in that same tone he often used on his pet snake. And yet he didn’t notice, didn’t seem to see the warning signs radiating off of Rigby like rays from the sun. 

Rigby growled deeply within his throat: one last warning sign. His tail fluffed up and lashed behind him not unlike a cat when upset. “I said don’t touch me!"

“You’re my boyfriend,” snapped Francis. “I can touch you whenever I damn well please!”

That was it. 

He heard enough.

Being far too overstimulated by this point, Rigby did the only thing that he could in the moment; he swatted the offending hand away. Put a little bit more distance between him and the teenage boy he thought he loved. And when Rigby gazed up at Francis now. . .all he could feel was a deep certainty that he wasn’t the person that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. 

Basil had been right. Like usual.

He told himself that he didn’t deserve it, even if his heart gave a little lurch at the thought. That he didn’t deserve the pain and suffering from this relationship. He believed it so suddenly and so quickly, the foundation of the idea only just beginning to form, that when Francis retaliated. . .it crumbled like a breeze against a condemned barn.

“You --!” Francis stammered. “— Why — you —!'' Then he huffed out something that sounded half-way between a growl and a grunt. Whatever it was, Rigby knew that he had gotten under Francis’s skin. 

Then an idea struck him. He wondered if he should leave. Maybe he could finally muster up the courage to tell Mordecai what was happening. Of course, Mordecai was giving all of his love and attention to Basil, as he rightfully should, but if Rigby told him then. . .then Mordecai could — no —- would protect him.

However, Rigby was quickly yanked out of his thoughts by his head being rocked to the side and a sudden, horrible searing pain beginning to spread across his left cheek. 

It took a few breathless moments for him to process the fact that Francis had actually smacked him. Had actually hit him. Something which had never happened before. His gaze flicked to where Francis was staring at him, wide-eyed, with his hand still outstretched.

Rigby gingerly lifted a paw and pressed it to his cheek before fully looking Francis in the eye. He had a shocked expression on his face, one that was slowly morphing into something like regret.

“Babe, babe I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you!”

No amount of false apologies could make up for what Francis had just done to him. Anger coiled low in Rigby’s gut, as if he had swallowed a lit match, and tears stung the corners of his eyes — angry tears this time around.

And so, without so much as a single thought in mind, on pure instincts alone, he leapt forward and in one fluid motion raked his claws across Francis’s cheek. He felt the skin tear and warm blood drip from the sudden wounds.

After that was all said and done, Francis stared down at him, a brief blank expression on his face, as if he were in total shock that Rigby could and would bite back just as hard; giving his all back tenfold.

As Rigby’s paws landed back on the floor he didn’t feel much pride at what he had just done. He had hurt Francis. Oh, sure, Francis totally deserved it but — then — why did he not feel that way? Why did he instead feel sick and disgusted at himself?

All of these questions soon blanked in his mind.

“Oh, babe,” Francis said, with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Rigby scrambled backwards as he took deliberate, menacing steps towards him. That dangerous glint stayed in his blue eyes as well as that stupid wicked smile spreading across his too-handsome face; as if he suddenly found himself enjoying Rigby’s terror, his fear, his cowering away from him.

“Francis, Francis stop!” he pleaded, his voice rising with desperation.

Francis did not stop, however. He didn’t even hesitate when he grabbed hold of Rigby’s arm and, with a horrifying sound that he would forever remember, like lightning striking a tree, the blonde twisted and turned until the limb broke.

Pain radiated up and down the now broken limb. Rigby screamed and screamed until his voice broke and even then he still went beyond, crying out in excruciating pain. 

Only when he finally passed out did he find a modicum of relief.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Rigby startled awake to the sound of screaming.

He felt something cool suddenly pressed into his neck and it shocked him enough that he was able to break away from that horrific nightmare. His breath hitched and he breathed and choked as he tried desperately to calm himself down. 

As his gaze flicked wildly around the kitchen — How in the world had he gotten there? — he spotted Pops in the corner of his vision, sitting right beside him. Then he felt the brush of warm skin as Pops pressed closer to him. 

That cool thing against his neck — was it a wet washcloth? — helped soothe him in a way that words simply couldn’t. After a few moments of desperately pressing against the source of comfort, he found that he was curled up in a corner of the kitchen — again, how had he managed to get from the bedroom to here? — all while tears poured freely down his face, obscuring his vision.

Terror suddenly seized him like icy claws wrapped around his lungs as he realized that he was cornered — trapped. His breathing hitched in his throat once again and he felt as if he was going to pass out. It seemed that Pops noticed because the next thing Rigby knew, that cool thing — He was right, it was a wash cloth — was being pressed gently against his cheek. 

Rigby flinched away out of pure instinct, but leaned back into the coolness. As Pops methodically and gently mopped Rigby’s face with the cloth Rigby couldn’t help but subconsciously compare him to Francis.

Francis had always been rough and callous with the way that he handled him — especially after the slapping/broken arm situation — but here Pops was being extremely soothing and gentle.  Rigby blinked, feeling compelled to be lulled to sleep but snapped back awake by time Pops started talking.

“Oh dear,” said Pops softly and sadly, “What ever could’ve caused you to scream like that? I found you curled up here in the corner, absolutely terrified of me. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

In the blink of an eye Rigby had grabbed hold of Pops’s wrist and forced him to press the cold comfort further against his cheek, as if he could fall into it forever. He wished, more than anything, that it was Mordecai that was here.

No offense to Pops or anything but he didn’t have much of any context about Francis or the crap that went down between him and Rigby; Mordecai did. But he wasn’t here. He was far away from Rigby, and Rigby wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.

Of course he would end up having a horrible nightmare only after Mordecai left. . .

“It wasn’t you, Pops,” Rigby ground out through clenched teeth as tremors wracked his small frame. His long, ringed tail curled around his legs, some kind of baseless defense against anyone that would harm in the moment. “It was just some dumb nightmare.”

“I’m sorry, Rigby,” said Pops, keeping his voice low and soft. “What you’re calling a ‘dumb nightmare’ must’ve been quite scary.” Rigby closed his eyes as Pops dabbed them with the cloth. Some tension loosened in his chest. “Perhaps if you told me what it is that made you scream it may lead to you feeling better?”

“Do I have to?” he whispered right as the horrifying sound of his own arm breaking echoed within his mind. His breath hitched in his throat again and it took everything within him not to up and bolt or start panicking again. 

The last thing that he wanted was to scare away the kind lollipop man with his trauma or say something that he’d end up regretting by morning.

Yep, this is what I get for thinking about the past, he thought miserably.

Pops paused for a moment. “Only if you feel comfortable,” he answered honestly.

Quite frankly, Rigby really didn’t really want to but at the same time he was so tired, so exhausted holding all of these heavy emotions. They were like cinder blocks tied to his feet, threatening to pull him under a strong current, constantly trying to drown him.

Curling further into himself, Rigby admitted to what happened in his nightmare. Pops listened attentively, every so often he would nod, but also a look of horror began to overtake his face; as if he were shocked that someone could be so horrible. By the time Rigby was done recounting the horrors of the past, fresh tears were falling freely and wetting his cheeks. 

Pops’s frown deepened but he dutifully wiped away the tears on Rigby’s face.

A wave of panic rose inside of him like a tsunami, threatening to crash over him. He had never told anyone else about the contents of his nightmares besides Mordecai. Would Pops judge him for letting himself stay in a relationship like that?

He wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“I don’t get it, Pops,” Rigby said shakily, “I just don’t get it. What did I do to deserve getting hurt? Why did he break my arm? I know I’m dumb but. . .I just don’t understand why he did it.” He lifted his paws to try and wipe away the tears but instead covered his eyes, shame suddenly threatening to burn him from the inside out. “Maybe I’m unlovable. Maybe I deserved it. . .”

It was there now. Out in the open. His deepest, darkest fear.

Pops hummed for a bit before placing a gentle hand atop Rigby’s head, petting gently. “Hm. . .I hope you don’t mind my saying but I  think that’s complete and utter balderdash, Rigby. You may think you’re dumb but I say you’re impulsive. You say you’re unlovable but I and the rest of us here at the park love you unconditionally. You claim that you deserved what happened to you, but is that really true? Would you hurt someone the same way that this Francis fellow did?”

“No!” Rigby blurted out, not even really thinking before saying it. “No! I’d never do that! I-I don’t want to put someone through that — I’m not — I’m not that kind of person!”

“I know,” murmured Pops, “I just wanted you to say it aloud. Everything feels better when we say what we feel aloud, right?” 

Rigby’s ears pricked up as he felt those soft, all-too gentle fingers running steadily through his fur. It soothed some of the painful emotions still spiking his heart like arrows being shot at a target. The fur along his back and tail slowly smoothed out and laid flat again. The tension in his shoulders slowly loosened.

“Why does my head tell me that I deserve it?” Rigby admitted in a whisper, effectively silencing Pops. “Why do I want to. . .” he hesitated for a brief moment before barreling on with this train of horrible thought, “Sometimes, after a nightmare like that, I feel like I should get back with Francis. Like I should’ve just stayed with him sucked it up. 'Cause at least being with him was...was comfortable. It sucked but it was comfortable. Now I'm just like flailing around. Constantly pining after Mordecai, thinking I can ever get with him.”

“Oh, Rigby,” said Pops, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “I feel incredibly gutted knowing that you believe you deserve a horrible gentleman like that back into your life. I very much doubt that Mordecai would want that for you either; I believe that he does love you, he’s simply scared or held back by something to say the words; after all, didn’t you tell me yesterday that he kissed you twice?”

The fur along Rigby’s back bristled and he scoffed. “Sure, he can kiss me as much as he wants to, but it doesn’t mean that he loves me! Francis did the same S all the time! I just want him to tell me that he loves me!”

“I’m quite certain that he’ll say it once he and Skips come back from their very important quest."

"If he ever comes back..." Rigby muttered under his breath.

"I take it that you still don't believe me. Or rather that you have doubts in Mordecai?"

"It's...ugh...it's not that I don't believe you, Pops," he said softly, "It's just that...yeah...I don't even know if Mordecai really does love me or if it's just this stupid love pollen messing with my mind."

A few long moments passed before a musical giggle emanated from Pops. Rigby's ears perked up and he wanted to open up his eyes and ask what in the world Pops was laughing about but before he could, the dapper man spoke.

"I suddenly seem to recall that of a memory from a month or two ago. I believe it was when that so-called 'Creature of Unfathomable Horror' showed up to the front door. You and Skips were able to fight it back into the portal, correct?" Rigby kept his face buried in his arms but nodded enough for Pops to notice that he was listening. "Well, do you remember from before that? When the creature tried to eat Mordecai and you managed to save him?"

"Yeah?" Rigby muttered. "What about it?" Despite the nonchalant tone he was trying to go for, he did remember. He did remember the way in which Mordecai looked at him. But he had simply told himself afterwards that it was just projection and desperate want on his part. He had tried again and again to throw away the memory, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his mind. Daresay it was one of his favorites.

Another musical giggle emanated from Pops as he continued, "Did you see the way in which he was looking at you? Did you see the way his eyes lit up? How he gazed at you as if you were his hero in the moment?"

Rigby opened up his eyes, ready to deliver a disgruntled glare, to say something sarcastic and mean, but found that he couldn’t go through with it. Not with the hopeful look that Pops was giving him, as if he really and truly believed what he was saying.

“Fine, whatever!” he said grumpily and a small, cheery smile appeared on Pops’s round face. Something warmed in his chest upon seeing it. “You win! Maybe Mordecai does love me! Ugh! I'll believe you...for now.”

Pops laughed jovially. “Oh, good show! Jolly good show! I’m so glad that you’ve agreed with me.”

“Are you alright?” Rigby flinched when he heard the flower’s annoying, high voice infiltrate his mind. A worried look flashed across Pops's face, but he quickly started up his duty of taking care of Rigby again. “I could hear you screaming a way away. Did Mordecai hurt you or something?”

He sighed. No, it wasn’t Mordecai. . .

“Was it a nightmare?”

Yep.

“That super sucks, dude,” the flower said honestly, and it made Rigby snort with a sudden laugh. That was not at all what he was expecting her to say.

“Is the flower talking to you?” asked Pops as he folded the wash cloth and pressed it against Rigby’s forehead. Seeing as though they were the only two in the room, Rigby nodded slightly. “My, I’ve never known a magicked flower to make someone laugh like that”

“She’s. . .” he faltered briefly, trying to wrack his tired brain for a word that could describe the flower, then said, “. . .something.”

“Is that all you can come up with? Hmm? That I’m ‘something’?”

Rigby scoffed and rolled his eyes. Pops smiled.

I could’ve said ‘annoying’! Would that be better?!

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Ugh, she’s so annoying!” he snapped aloud, effectively earning a giggle from Pops.

For the rest of the time, it was pretty peaceful. At one-point Pops asked Rigby if he could give him a hug and, after some internal debate, Rigby had allowed it. It felt strange but comforting at the same time and Rigby quickly found himself sinking into the long arms of the lollipop man. Eventually, being in such a relaxed state, he ended up falling asleep, curled against Pops's chest with his arms wrapped around Pops's arms.

This time his dreams were peaceful. Most of them were unremarkable but there was one that was vivid enough to be remembered in the morning. The time that Mordecai had first shown him Outlook’s Reach.

“How much farther, dude?!” Rigby called out as he almost tripped over a big, gnarled tree root sprouting up and out of the uneven ground.

And this is why I don’t go outside, he thought ruefully as the world started tipping over sideways.

In a flash, Mordecai was already there ready to catch him before he potentially fell backwards. A blush stung Rigby’s cheeks as he felt Mordecai’s wings on his waist. The blue jay was just trying to steady him but all the same, because of how close they were, it made his heart flutter in his chest.

“You alright, dude?” asked Mordecai as he put Rigby back on steady feet. “Your face is red, wanna go back? Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out during the hottest day of summer. . .” His voice trailed off with a worried look on his face.

Mordecai was such a worrywart. Always thinking about what was best for Rigby and worrying over him; always acting like he was a box marked: fragile, please handle with care . 

Frankly it should’ve annoyed Rigby that Mordecai cared so much for him. After all, his own parents didn’t care half the time, but somehow, someway, it almost always made something flicker and come to life in his chest.

Rigby scoffed and quickly wiped at his face, willing the stupid blush to go away. “Nah. I’m alright. I mean, hey, my dad has forced me to go outside in way worse heat than this!”

Mordecai blinked. “What?” he said, sounding utterly shocked by Rigby’s sudden confession. “Dude, you. . .what is wrong with your dad?!”

“What isn’t wrong with him?” half-joked Rigby but when he saw how upset Mordecai was getting, he added, hastily, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s whatever, y’know? I’m here with you, that’s way better than being stuck at home.” He put his paws to his cheeks and batted his eyelashes at the blue jay. “You know how much I love being with you~”

The feathers along Mordecai’s arms and shoulders puffed up and then flattened as a streak of ruby-red appeared across his cheeks. Bingo! Rigby had gotten him good this time.

Feeling further egged on by Mordecai’s reaction, Rigby put one paw to his bleach-blonde hair and twirled a strand of it between deft fingers.

“Ugh, dude, you shouldn’t be doing that all the time.” Mordecai hastily wiped at his face but the blush remained. Rigby’s grin only grew. “ It’s gonna lose its luster eventually.”

“I’ll just think of something more creative,” said Rigby deviously and patted at his black t-shirt. Then he took Mordecai’s wing in his paw and started dragging the blue jay up the rest of the hill. “Anyways, weren’t you gonna show me some super totally awesome view?”

They continued onward, with Rigby huffing and panting as he and Mordecai climbed up the rocky hill leading to Outlook’s Reach. Supposedly it was a place that teenagers went to make out and/or see the entirety of town, whichever came first. 

The view was often said to be amazing. 

Of course, Rigby doubted it because nothing in this town could ever be truly amazing. But after seeing Mordecai frantically rush around, exclaiming in a near-squawking voice how he wanted to take Rigby with him to that place, that it “would be so totally radical!” and because he generally trusted Mordecai’s judgement, Rigby reluctantly agreed to go.

He would save all of his best snark and sarcasm for when they finally reached their destination.

So many comments were tingling on his tongue, it was almost impossible for Rigby to stay quiet as they continued on their way up the rocky terrain. Eventually Mordecai paused right at a dense curtain of leaves and trees, obscuring the supposedly cool sight.

Mordecai turned around and met Rigby’s eye. “Are you ready?” he said with excitement shining in his eyes.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Rigby held out a paw and let the blue jay pull him through the leaves. The sarcastic words and sharp quips fizzled almost instantly as he finally beheld the gorgeous view. It was true what they said. You really could see everything, from West Anderson High School way in the back of town, all of the way to the border of the Park that was pretty darn close to the bottom of the cliffside.

“Woah, dude,” said Rigby breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from what he was seeing. “This place is — wow! — this place is totally awesome! I-I can’t believe it, I mean, you were totally right!”

“Like always.” Mordecai puffed out his chest, pride radiating off of him. “Man, I’m so glad that Lucien told me about this place,” he said conversationally as he pulled Rigby into an unexpected side hug that Rigby  quickly reciprocated. “Y’know, for a guy that’s on the volleyball team, he’s pretty cool.”

Rigby huffed. “Yeah, he is,” he said, trailing off before adding, teasingly, “You've been talking to Lucien a lot. Do you like him or something? Maybe wanna smooch him?”

Mordecai chuckled and gently nudged Rigby on the shoulder. “What? No, dude! Lucien’s pretty cool and all but I don’t. . .I don’t like him like that,” he explained. “Besides, if I was gonna smooch anyone it’d be you,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh, is that why you brought me here?” Rigby asked nervously as his tail fluffed up.

After noticing the way that Rigby was acting, Mordecai hastily added, looking away, “I mean —! Only, uh, only if you want to!” A breathless, nervous laugh slipped from his beak. 

Rigby took a few paw steps forward until he was directly in front of Mordecai. He shyly looked up at the blue jay, his lips twitching up into a wobbly smile. “I’m ready if you are,” he said softly. “But you’re gonna have to kneel down ‘cause I’m so short.”

Mordecai looked giddy as he bent down to Rigby’s level, meeting his bright gaze. “I feel like I’m about to get knighted,” he quipped with a smile that was equally as wobbly as Rigby’s. “I-I can’t believe we’re doing this dude. Are you sure you don’t wanna back out?”

“What’s a kiss between friends, huh?” said Rigby, letting his voice drop low and teasing. A giggle chased after him when he noticed Mordecai shivering and his feathers fluffing out in response.

“Uh, yeah, friends,” Mordecai stammered, his entire face turning red. “Just friends! Friends — uh — kissing. . .” He looked away briefly before meeting Rigby’s gaze again, the blush on his face becoming a shade brighter. “No big deal.”

“No big deal,” repeated Rigby and then he went for it; before his nerves would get the better of him.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Mordecai’s beak, waiting to see what the blue jay would do. It was really no surprise when he felt Mordecai kiss him back, but there was a definite jolt of surprise when Mordecai’s wings slid behind his shoulders, slowly nudging him closer until their chests were touching.

One singular thought entered his mind: Woah .

Hesitation stopped his paws for a brief moment, then pushing through the sudden discomfort, and after, he managed to reach out and grab fistfuls of Mordecai’s Brain Explosion t-shirt. That something from within his chest burned bright and hot as he desperately pulled Mordecai closer to him.

He wanted nothing more than for Mordecai to hold him in his wings and whisper in his ear that he loved him, to date and hopefully grow old together. To be with the one person that clearly actually cared for and loved him as he was.

.

.

.

.

.

Rigby slowly awoke in the present to the sound of soft humming and whistling. 

He found himself curled up against someone thin but solid with his arms wrapped tightly around what felt like a clothed arm. His fingertips brushed against rough fabric.

In his still sleep-addled mind the sluggish thought came: Mordecai?

“Good morning, Rigby,” said a very familiar voice. 

Wait . His eyes flew open. He was suddenly very aware of the clothed arm that led up to a shoulder that was definitively not covered in blue feathers up to a giant, round, pale pink face. And now he was looking into the black eyes of Pops. What the — And then it hit him all at once; what had happened last night.

He actually told someone about his crazy nightmares.

After blinking a few times in disbelief, Rigby finally replied, his voice quiet, “Um, Pops, why are we still in the kitchen?” He quickly glanced behind and, after seeing that there was no one else there, let out a sigh of relief before returning his attention to Pops.

He was expecting to wake up in bed but instead he had ended up waking up in Pops’s arms. Which meant that they had both slept in the kitchen. Which meant that. . .Pops’s old joints were probably creaking and protesting from the hard floor and — did Pops really keep watch over him all night?

Something like guilt nudged against his heart at the realization. 

“It’s quite alright,” Pops said good-naturedly. “You needn’t worry about me. I was more concerned for you last night. I had myself twisted in quite a pretzel knot. I was quite worried that if I took you to your room and left you would wake up screaming again. And that if I tried to move you in general you’d wake up so I decided to make myself as comfortable as possible and just stay here with you.”

Rigby stared at him in disbelief. “Thanks, but — Pops? — y’know you didn’t have to do that, right?” Feeling suddenly vulnerable, his tail curled around his body. “I’ve had bad nightmares since I was like, five-years old,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’m way too used to it.”

“Perhaps,” conceded Pops, “but isn’t everything easier to carry when you’re among friends?”

“I — ” Rigby blinked, not understanding what he meant, and then just to make him feel better, he said, “Yeah, I guess.”

He didn’t understand what Pops said half the time but maybe it was the intention that counted? 

And he couldn’t exactly lie. 

Sleeping with Pops last night probably stopped all those other awful nightmares from creeping up on him during sleep. If the renewed energy and slump in his shoulders was anything to go by then it meant he had finally slept well for once. 

He could still remember vivid remnants from the dream he had of him and Mordecai at Outlook’s Reach. Putting a paw to his muzzle, he wondered if Mordecai dreamed about him too. 

Wherever Mordecai and Skips were, he hoped that they were safe.

With a shake of his head, Rigby shooed away the creeping thoughts of terrible things that could’ve happened to Mordecai and instead decided to thank Pops the only way that he knew how: with a sudden, unexpected hug.

Pops took it in stride, a radiant smile slashing across his face, giving Rigby an equally fierce hug in reciprocation. As Rigby allows his head to rest upon Pops’s shoulder, he thinks to himself how much he wishes that this were Mordecai hugging him. Not that he hated the affection from Pops but. . .it was different with Mordecai.

Thinking of the blue jay inevitably led to his own long-buried, suddenly now-free feelings for him; the blaze that erupts in his chest, that threatens to burn him from the inside out, and maybe he would let it, if only Mordecai would too.

I love him, the thought came up as quickly as a tiger upon a deer. And for once, Rigby simply accepted it, letting the blaze stay.

After finally pulling away from a reluctant Pops, Rigby absentmindedly patted at his chest, trying to smooth down his chest fur only for his fingers to brush against something. It felt like the bud of a flower; but that couldn’t be it, right? How could he have sprouted a flower in the middle of the night?

Ice-cold dread dripped down his spine, raising his hackles, but he didn’t dare to look down.

“My, I didn’t know that raccoons could sprout flowers.”

What? he thought and then, without meaning to, he looked down and finally saw it; confirmed with his own eyes that yes, it was a flower bud. But not just any flower bud. It was rather large and pink, as well as sprouting right above where his heart was.

A scream began to climb its way up his throat, and he very nearly let it out.

“It’s already starting?” The flower said, a waver in her normally confident voice. “But it wasn’t supposed to do that until tomorrow. . .”

Rigby trembled. What’re you talking about?!

“You mean you don’t know?”

KNOW WHAT? he shouted back at her within his mind, terror seizing his whole body. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!

The flower didn’t answer for a few moments. Then: “I’m guessing Mordecai failed to mention it to you but — well — you’re going to die within the week unless he confesses his feelings for you.”

It was as if time had suddenly stopped. There was nothing for Rigby, save for the sound of the flower still talking in his head and Pops suddenly reaching out, mouthing something. He couldn’t hear beyond the infinite echo of “You’re going to die within the week” in his ears.

“I-I’m going to die?” were the very last words Rigby spoke before turning tail and fleeing.

Chapter Text

You had something to hide
Should have hidden it, shouldn't you?
Now you're not satisfied
With what you're being put through

"Policy of Truth" by Depeche Mode

They drove on in silence.

Mordecai stared out the passenger window of Skips’s van. He watched through narrowed eyes as the environment blurred and changed in front of him. Well, he was looking but not really seeing, his mind wandering and far away in the moment. Regret weighed heavily on his heart like a fallen brick. Inevitably his thoughts would turn back to that infamous moment in the living room: 

All Rigby had wanted was for him to come out and finally say it: say “I love you”. And what had Mordecai replied with? Especially after Rigby called him out (rightfully so) on being able to kiss him but not saying those infamous three little words.

He yelled at him, exploding in frustration and anger; not really at Rigby but more at himself but even still…he could remember clear as day Rigby flinching away as if he had hit him with his very words.

“What are you afraid of, man?!” Rigby had shouted, fear and desperation drenching his voice. “Seriously, you kissed me on the bleachers, and we’re not even going to try and address that?! You can kiss me, but you can’t say three little words?!”

Mordecai squirmed in his seat, suddenly feeling like someone had dumped a colony of ants into his feathers. He was a massive hypocrite. He knew it was true, especially now. As horrible as it sounded, he could kiss or hold Rigby but anytime the words “I love you” started forming they would fizzle almost instantly on his tongue or get lodged sharply in his throat like a piece of fishbone.

Ugh. He couldn’t believe how selfish he had acted. Not only yelling at Rigby but also then snapping at the flower too. Sure, she had shoved him and Rigby into this strange precarious predicament but even still…she didn’t deserve the anger he had spewed at her. This was all on him: for being too much of a coward to say how he truly felt.

Making it even worse was the sudden thought that: Rigby would die within the week if he didn’t say those “three little words” he dreaded most.

C’mon man, he thought desperately to himself as he wiped at his face with his wings. C’mon, you gotta tell him. You just gotta do it. Just say “I love you” to Rigby. HOW HARD CAN IT POSSIBLY BE?!

Even still, despite viciously berating himself for a solid moment the words refused to budge from his chest.

You know there was another person who could never tell Rigby that they loved him. Two actually.

Cold sweat broke across his forehead as dread slithered down his spine like icy claws. As if it weren’t possible to feel even worse, here came that stupid dark voice that liked to kick him a level lower when he was already down. A shaky sigh slipped past his beak as he remembered who those two were: Rigby’s dad — Sherm — and Rigby’s ex-boyfriend — Francis Jablonski.

Could he really be as bad as them?

His brain liked to make him think that he was. But his heart always said something entirely differently, something along the lines of, “You’re really comparing yourself to two abusive losers? Really?”

With another sigh, he leaned back, pressing his wings against sleep-heavy eyes. He really should just sleep all of these emotions off. It would be way better than being awake and endlessly stewing in them.

“He loves you so much and you can’t even deign to say three words to him! All because of what — because you’re so scared that he might die?!” The flower had said, her usually high-pitched voice having gone lower, sounding much more dangerous, like a genuine threat, “Don’t you realize that he’ll die by the end of the week if you don’t say it? So, what does it matter if he dies after you say it? At least he would die knowing that you love him just as much as he loves you!”

It was unfair. It was so unfair to have been confronted with his own fears and flaws. Was it really that terrible that he wanted to keep Rigby alive and not have him end up like Basil? Why was everyone so mad at him for keeping his distance from them? Margaret hadn’t spoken to him since their disastrous first and only date and CJ…oh Grop …CJ had kept her distance from him too.

But then…if he didn’t say “I love you” to Rigby before the end of the week then…then…

“Of course, you can have your little friend back but be warned. If you do not reciprocate feelings for him within the week he will die.”

Mordecai let out a groan of frustration. Ugh. If I tell him that I love him then he’ll die! And if I don’t tell him “I love you” then he’ll still die!

Thankfully he was brought out of his depressing thoughts by the sound of Skips’ low, gravelly voice. He blinked and tried his best to focus his scattered attention onto the yeti. “Huh? Sorry, I was uh, I was thinking about some stuff…” Mordecai muttered, suddenly feeling very small and judged.

Skips grunted. “I’m guessing that Rigby didn’t take it too well, you leaving an’ all?” When Mordecai didn’t immediately respond, he continued, a softness to his voice, “I’m only asking ‘cause you’ve been so quiet this past hour.”

Mordecai looked away and said, “Yeah, we kinda argued…I said some stuff I didn’t really mean…” A lot of stuff that I didn’t really mean came the unbidden thought. The only thing keeping him from screaming or punching something was grinding his beak back and forth and clasping his wings together tightly onto his lap.

He really, really should’ve just manned up and told Rigby the truth. All of it.

The further that they got from the park, the more that Mordecai had the growing, distinct feeling that they should turn around and go back. That it wasn’t too late. He could run back inside of the house and get on his knees and beg for and confess to Rigby about his undying love (and ever-growing devotion) to him. The metaphorical brick lifted from his heart as he let this idea begin to take root in his mind.

Until it was promptly smacked back down by that dark voice, once again: You really think he’ll forgive you after the way that you yelled at him before leaving?

The scrape of a calloused hand curling around his left wing was enough of a distraction against the sudden tide of anxiety threatening to crash over and drown him in the moment. An ember of gratitude warmed in his too-cold chest; Skips was always looking out for everyone, it made him wonder if Benson was looking out for him too.

“Y’know, I wasn’t able to tell Benson goodbye before we left,” admitted Skips. Mordecai winced as he glanced up and met his steady gaze in the rear view mirror. Would Benson wake up in a bad mood and take it out on Rigby in the morning? “I get the feeling that once he gets to the house he’ll probably curse my name and scream. He’ll definitely be upset with me but not with Rigby. So, stop giving me that look like someone just kicked you.”

How did he know?

Mordecai scoffed, trying to cover up the obvious worry on his face. “What?” he said, dragging out the word. “Nah. I’m totally not worried, Skips. I’m sure that Benson will probably just yell at everyone and insist that they do their chores ‘n stuff. Back to business like usual.”

“Benson already knows about the whole flower deal, so he’ll look out for Rigby,” continued Skips, as if he hadn’t heard a word of what Mordecai had said. Or rather, that he was trying to get Mordecai to stop before he fell off the edge into a deep pit of despair or anxiety.

Normally he would call that stuff out, feeling like a total failure that he couldn’t cover up his own emotions, but this time he both felt and let the comfort in Skips’ voice soothe him.

Mordecai ended up leaning his head against the window as Skips continued talking. The yeti started to talk about the next project that he was going to do at the park; with it being spring and all, he was going to make some flower boxes to put on the porch.

Mordecai thought it was a great idea and even told him so, especially since it would make Pops undoubtedly happy. Skips soon switched to talking about some funny thing Benson did in his sleep. A pang of jealousy cut through Mordecai as Skips admitted with a pink streak across his cheeks, to the fact that he really, truly liked cuddling Benson.

A little sigh slipped past Mordecai’s beak as he said, wistfully, “Rigby and I used to do that.”

A jolt of worry shot through him once the words left him. He wasn’t sure about continuing this sudden train of words, until he saw the small encouraging nod that Skips was giving to him in the corner of his eye.

That was all the courage he needed to start rambling.

“He was a complete cuddlebug! Ugh! Anytime he would stay the night at my house, he’d always, always ask me in that same worried tone of his, ‘Are we gonna cuddle tonight?’ and my answer would always be, ‘Yeah, dude! Of course! Why d’you think that’s changed any?’ ” A smile tugged at the corners of his beak, and he let it show as he said, “We used to stay up all night talking about —” The familiar stinging of a blush crept across his face, but he soldiered on, “— Talking about, y’know, whatever. Sometimes we’d just lay in bed together and not say anything. Or we’d even try truth or dare. But one time we tried sneaking out of the house.”

Mordecai chanced a glance at Skips and nearly leapt out of his seat at seeing the contented smile on Skips’ face. He hadn’t expected the yeti to be so into his rambling nostalgic story about the past.

And he really hadn’t expected to end up talking about Rigby so much. It seemed like no matter what he did recently, his best friend and not-so-secret crush would always show up, either in his thoughts or in his words.

Skips chuckled as he met Mordecai’s eye through the rearview mirror. “Oh, don’t let my smile stop you from talking,” he said gruffly but not unkindly. Nope. It was pretty obvious that he was totally reveling in hearing all of the things Mordecai and Rigby used to do. “Please, continue. It’ll help keep me awake while I drive.”

Something loosened in Mordecai's chest upon hearing that and so he continued his ramblings, “Well, okay, so Rigby and I snuck out of the house through my bedroom window ‘cause there was a really close branch from the huge oak tree next to the house. So, y’know, we’re scooting along the branch and then suddenly Rigby slips and starts falling! Well, lucky me, I wasn’t afraid of flying back then and I managed to dive and grab him right before he hit the ground and y’know what he did?”

Skips shrugged, a good-natured smile on his face, and said, “I don’t know, Mordecai. What did he do?”

The ember in his chest crackled back to life, this time hotter than before as he admitted, softly, “He looked up at me like I was…like I was some kind of hero.” Mordecai quickly threw a wing across his face, trying to cover up the blush that stung his cheeks, as he remembered clear as a winter sky the look on Rigby’s face. Admiration shining in his dark eyes, glittering like chips of onyx beneath the moonlight. “And then he put his arms around my neck and batted his eyelashes. He called me his hero.”

(If Mordecai thought hard enough about that memory, he could still remember the phantom touch of Rigby’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, of his voice going high pitched as he admitted, “Hah! I knew it! I knew you’d save me! You’re my hero, Mordecai! Always and forever~” The slight tilt of the little racoon’s head as he looked up in admiration; the edges of his fur turning near silver by the full moon’s rays.

And what had Mordecai said in response to that? What words had come forth from the blue jay’s mouth, without so much as a singular thought inside his sudden empty head?

“And I guess you’re my damsel in distress?” he said half-jokingly as he landed onto the ground. His talons dug into the freshly mowed lawn. The smell of clipped grass being carried on the cool breeze that had wended its way through his feathers; and was ruffling the silly, pretty , bleach-blonde hair that Rigby was way too proud of having.

A wide smile had broken across Rigby’s muzzle, and he pressed his forehead up against Mordecai’s neck, sudden puffs of beautiful, breathless laughter parting the feathers across Mordecai’s chest. He replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “For you? I’ll be anything.” )

“And you absolutely sure that you can’t just tell him how you really feel?” Skips asked, suddenly sounding completely serious. “Because it’s becoming pretty obvious that you do love him, what with the way that you talk about him and all. And I’m starting to think that he loves you in turn.”

Crap.

Double crap.

Actually, triple crap.

Mordecai wanted to play that off and say that was ridiculous. But the words refused to come. They lodged themselves in his throat, piercing like a piece of fishbone that refused to go down. The walls of the van were slowly closing in around him. His heart began to pick up the beat, soon it would start slamming against his rib cage and — and — and then — oh Grop — 

—“Hey. You can always go and lay in the back seat if you need to. There’s a pillow and blanket back there in case you get too cold or want to sleep.”

Swallowing down the panic that was threatening to rise, Mordecai turned his head just enough to glance at Skips. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he had nearly had a panic attack in the passenger seat. Skips’s eyes remained firmly on the road ahead of them, but every so often his gaze would flicker to the side to glance at Mordecai and then go right back to where they were before.

Does he know that I’m like two seconds away from a panic attack? he thought. Is that why he wants me to go back there? So he doesn’t have to deal with me anymore?

“Are you — !” he paused for a long moment before repeating, in a much calmer voice this time, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get too tired and then wreck or something…”

A humorless laugh wormed its way out of his chest. And then, to top it all off, the feeling of lightheadedness suddenly threatened to tip his world over sideways.

Okay. Yeah. That was it. He was going to take Skips’s advice this time. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Immediately his wings flew to unbuckle his seatbelt. He wanted to get out of Skips’s sight. He didn’t want anyone to see him this way.

(Well, unless it was Rigby. Because Rigby almost always knew what to do when the panic started with him; whether it was playing Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon on the boombox in their room or putting ice cubes on his wings or even — at least he used to — curl up in Mordecai’s lap and purr away like a cat.

Sometimes if it got really, truly bad, Mordecai would start yanking feathers out of his wings or shoulders or whatever place that he could reach with his beak just to try and stop the horrible feeling from consuming him entirely, the feeling not unlike that of a black hole. But Rigby would always be there in an instant to push his head to the side, clamp his beak shut gently with his paws, and tell him in a hushed tone to stop.)

But Rigby wasn’t here with him now. He was back home. Probably alone. Probably moping or sulking around the house or crying and hating Mordecai’s guts for the way in which he had left him behind.

Good. Rigby had every right to hate him. Just like how Margaret and CJ probably hated him for the ways in which he pushed them away. After all, Mordecai hated himself, especially during this one long, awful moment. What was one more person to add to the ever-increasing mental list?

Overwhelming sadness burned the back of his throat as he crawled into the third and last row of leather seats within the van. His eyes blurred and he could feel the familiar sting of tears in the corners of his eyes as he laid on his side with his back facing Skips.

It took a few long moments of shaky breaths, in through his nares and out through his mouth, before the overwhelming sadness dissipated. It hadn’t fully gone away, still lingering in the back of Mordecai’s mind like a phantom, but enough to where he could close his eyes and try to sleep.

—

Unfortunately, it seemed that his access to dreamland was denied.

Which is to say that he could not sleep a wink.

Anytime the van ran over the slightest pot hole or bump or crack in the road, it would startle him awake. In an instant his eyes would flicker open, and he’d find himself looking up at the tan roof of the vehicle that he was steadily realizing he was trapped inside of.

(Realizing that Rigby still wasn’t there.)

For the first few times it happened he’d simply groan softly but ultimately roll over and try to fall asleep again. After the first few times he no longer considered it funny. In fact, his own aggravation from the events of earlier was coming back slowly and since sleeping was no longer an option, he’d just have to make it Skips’s problem.

(Something began to ache fiercely in his chest when the dawning realization crept that he couldn’t bother Rigby about his sudden bout of insomnia.)

Mordecai laid on that too-uncomfortable bench seat for what felt like forever before he finally sat up and noticed with a jolt that the van was no longer moving. Huh. That was weird. He peered through the dark and realized with a start that Skips wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Doubly weird.

A shiver raced down his spine, fluffing out the feathers along his wings and back. As he got out of the vehicle he silently hoped that Skips hadn’t been kidnapped. That nothing too crazy was going to spring out and get them. They already had enough of that at the park…hopefully it wasn’t following them.

The very moment that his talons hit the pavement was when he realized in an instant where they were: a rest area that was placed at the edge of a quiet, unsuspecting forest. Skips had stopped at a rest area. That should’ve been a relief. But wariness still persisted.

After glancing around and taking in his surroundings, Mordecai decided to lean against the hood of the van and wait. Every so often he’d glance around again just to make sure nobody would come upon him or try and attack him. Eventually he got bored of doing this and chanced a glance up at the night sky.

A few clouds hung around the half-moon high in the sky. The stars were bright as ever, winking every so often and doing whatever it was that stars did. As Mordecai’s gaze roamed over the sky his wingtips twitched as if to grab hold of a paintbrush. If only he had a canvas…he could try to paint the beauty of the night.

(Was Rigby looking up at the night sky too? Did he see the beauty of it as well?)

A wistful sigh slipped past his beak as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Being away from Rigby was beginning to dig into his heart like a long, sharp thorn. It seemed that no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking or wishing that his best friend was by his side. A frustrated growl rose within his throat and he turned suddenly, slamming a fist into the hood of the van. Pain reverberated up his arm, but he breathed through clenched beak, willing it to cover up the ever-increasing panic.

Stop thinking about him, he told himself fiercely. Stop thinking that Rigby loves you. It’s just the stupid love pollen making him believe that. He doesn’t love you. He’ll never love you. Stop hoping that things’ll change between you.

And yet, and yet, no matter how much he repeated this mantra, his heart refused to believe the inane stuff that he was trying to convince himself of. The metaphorical thorn would simply dig harder, deeper. As if his heart continued to rebel against his empty convictions.

Mordecai sometimes wondered what it would be like to have no emotions; to not care, to be empty of everything. He had felt numb for weeks on end after Basil’s unfortunate death. But eventually that numbness had left, leaving with it a horrible, stabbing ache that had made him break down sobbing at even the slightest thing that reminded him of his deceased girlfriend.

At this point anything would be better than feeling the way that he was now, standing alone in the darkness with only the stars and moon above for company.

Right as he was about to turn away to get back inside, did Skips finally come out of a nearby building and began making his way across the gravelly road. “I’m surprised that you’re awake,” he called, his gruff voice tinged with worry. “You kept thrashing and mumbling in your sleep. I was about to wake you up but then I had to stop and use the restroom. I also wanted to take a quick stretch break. Driving takes a lot out of me these days.”

As he came closer to Mordecai, he noticed sharply the lines wrinkled between the yeti’s brows. He was definitely worried.

Unease began to creep up Mordecai’s spine. “Y’know you could’ve woken me up, Skips. I would’ve totally driven for a while,” he said as casually as he could, despite the way that Skips was currently looking at him. “Hey, at least I have my driver’s license! Unlike Rigby.”

“No offense Mordecai, but I don’t trust anyone with driving my van,” replied Skips. “Besides, you’d probably find some way of causing chaos behind the wheel,” he added with a small chuckle.

“Since when have I ever caused chaos behind the wheel?” asked Mordecai, suddenly feeling offended.

Skips raised an eyebrow. “How many times have you and Rigby destroyed the golf cart?”

Touché .

Mordecai frowned and crossed his wings across his chest. “Yeah, but that’s me and Rigby. Usually when I’m by myself I can handle the wheel.” But since when did he ever want to be without him? He couldn’t remember the last time he and Rigby had been separated for longer than a few hours. “L-Look Skips, I can handle it, alright? I can drive for a while so you can take a nap or rest or y’know, whatever you need to do.”

“Sorry Mordecai,” Skips said, and he really did sound sorry. “I’d rather be the one to drive the van.”

Mordecai wanted to argue and say that he insisted on driving. Because if he didn’t have something, anything to distract him during the rest of the drive then his thoughts would just inevitably go back to Rigby. Back to that awful moment when he snapped and yelled at him. Back to memories of the good ol’ days before things put a small divide between them.

But with the look that Skips continued to give him…he decided to just let it go for now. A soft huff slipped past his beak and he looked away, averting those judging eyes. “So, uh, how much longer do we have ‘til we get to Jade’s house?”

Skips leaned against the van and replied, “That depends on a few things. For one, her house is deep inside of the Giant Forest so we’ll have to park the van on the very edge and walk inside. Another is that I’m not even sure if she’s still living there. If I were her and someone very close to me used an enchanted plant or object to control me, I’d move in a heartbeat.”

Mordecai could remember during the confusion of when they first found Rigby, how the flower had taunted him about the knowledge of what she had done, as well as who had made her and why; he remembered asking Skips about who Lily and Jade were and Skips had snapped that he’d tell him later.

Looks like later had finally come.

“Skips,” began Mordecai as he turned his head to look Skips in the eye. “Who’re Lily and Jade? You never did tell me who they were. The flower’s said some things about them but…I don’t have any context for the stuff she’s told me. I’m confused.”

Skips sighed. “Look, I can definitely tell ya more about Jade than I can about Lily.” Something flickered across his face, almost like worry, before his gaze hardened. “Jade used to work at the Park about five years ago. Benson used to give each of us the role as mentor so that the newbies would understand what to do.” Then he added, under his breath, “I don’t know why he stopped doin’ it.”

A jolt of surprise went through Mordecai. “You were her mentor?!” he said in astonishment.

“Yep.” 

“Wow.”

Skips snorted. “‘Wow’ is right,” he said. “Anyways, yeah, I mentored Jade, whatever. She was very quiet and unassuming. I mean, she listened, and she did her job well. She definitely had that going for her, especially over you and Rigby.” Mordecai stuck out his tongue at that remark and Skips smiled a bit. “But it wasn’t until one wintry night that she came to the golf cart garage looking rattled and confessed that she was a Magicae — a witch. She seemed surprised by how normal I was acting after her confession. So, I told her that I knew some guys with magic. And that seemed to calm her down.”

“Do you know what made her freak out?”

“I think it was the general ‘pretending to be normal’ thing. It was getting to her and she needed to tell someone; good thing it was me. ‘Cause I get the feeling that if she told anyone else, they either would’ve freaked out or made her use her magic to prove that she wasn’t lying.”

“I bet Benson would’ve freaked out,” Mordecai said, barely holding back a laugh. “Muscle Man and Hi Five Ghost though, yeah, they definitely would’ve made her use it.”

Skips nodded, looking a little relieved. “Exactly. I kept it a secret from everyone else at the park. It wasn’t my business to tell anyways. But she definitely opened up to me more after that; told me a lot about her family and the situation back at her home. How she was raised by a healer dad and a bloodthirsty warrior mom, and something about one of her sisters secretly being the daughter of one of the seven Princesses of the land.”

“...Seven?” Mordecai choked out, shocked that anyone could have that many kids.

“Seven.” Skips repeats. “Believe me, I was shocked too. But that’s what Jade said, seven princesses because the magic has to continue. Especially if someone were to ever harvest or break all of the crystals that grow in the Outer Territories.”

Mordecai found himself leaning forward, growing intrigued by the tale but also a tad worried. “Okay, so she lives in a…a giant forest? Full of magical crystals? With seven princesses ruling the land?” he asked slowly. “Did I get that right?”

“There’s also a queen but yes, you got most of it.” Skips smiled and Mordecai wanted to scream. Of course there was a queen. Why wouldn’t there be.

“So, so if she lived in this magical, awesome land, why did she come and work at the Park?” Because if it were Mordecai in her place, he would never have left. But maybe she had to leave. He wasn’t sure.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Skips said gravely. “According to her, she was the High Queen’s seer. She would report to her and let her know about any kind of prophecy or future vision that she had. Or if someone was plotting an assassination in their minds.” He briefly looked down and kicked at a lone rock. “That is until Lily gave her a pair of enchanted earrings — only she didn’t know that they were enchanted — it caused her to not be able to look at any bad futures—”

—“Wait, you mean that…that Lily messed with Jade’s mind?!” Mordecai found himself cringing internally over interrupting Skips like that. But he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

The yeti sighed and frowned. “Yes, Mordecai. Lily did mess with Jade’s mind. Jade couldn’t think through any bad futures and it caused the queen to be attacked and nearly killed. Jade didn’t know that the earring was enchanted, although she knew that something was wrong with her powers and so she decided to self-exile. Leading her to have to work at the park for a full year. It wasn’t until Lily confessed about what she did could Jade finally come back.”

Oh, Grop. The flower was made by Lily, he thought, suddenly feeling a burst of empathy for the flower. Maybe Lily taught her to be just like her? Or put some kind of spell that makes her that way? But what did she mean by me being just like Lily? …Maybe she was just upset at me for yelling at her.

Confusion swam in his mind as he tried to connect together the random puzzle pieces of information. Unfortunately, it was not clicking together.

Did Lily yell at her a lot?

“A-And that’s why we’re going to her house? To check up on her?”

“Mostly to get the cure for the love pollen for Rigby. But yes, to check up on her too. I feel partly responsible for letting her go back to that place…”

Mordecai found himself frowning too. “I don’t get it, Skips. Why would Lily do that to Jade?” he asked, his voice beginning to shake a little. He couldn’t imagine doing anything like that to Rigby.

“A misguided attempt to help? To control?” Skips shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know anymore than you do, Mordecai. But what I do know is that she and Jade were very close. About as close as you and Rigby are. “

Some horrible emotion churned up in his gut and suddenly he wanted to throw up. He couldn’t imagine doing something like that to Rigby. It was absolutely inconceivable that someone would willingly control someone else like that.

“Now, there’s something else that’s been bugging me,” Skips said and when Mordecai looked up and met his eye, he saw the look that the yeti was giving him. “According to Jade, her princess sister had a boyfriend. Of course, there’s probably plenty of people with this name but…it got me thinking tonight…well, there’s only one guy I know with that name.”

Tremors began to take hold of his wings, and he took a step aside. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so uneasy but whatever it was that Skips was about to say, it felt like it was going to break everything.

“Mordecai,” Skips began softly, “did you date someone named Basil five years ago?”

Yep.

There it was.

The thing.

The thing that broke everything.

It was as if everything suddenly came crashing down upon him. Every single emotion that he had been trying to push down and contain mixed and coalesced into a thick sludge within his stomach. Panic was his new companion; his heart hammered relentlessly against his rib cage and something akin to icy claws wrapping tightly around his throat.

Skips reached out towards him, mouthing something, but Mordecai couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think beyond the emotions that threatened to pull him under, to drown him under the weight of it all.

Then he turned his head and began to rip the feathers from his shoulder. The pain stung, bright and true, but it was enough to dull the panic even slightly. He continued, making quick work of it and was about to start on his wing when—

—something jabbed him in the neck. He blinked through the fog and lifted a wing, brushing against the thing that was now sticking out of his neck. It felt rather small but cylindrical, probably made out of metal judging by the cool smoothness of it. But what was truly odd was the soft fluffiness at the end of it.

He glanced down and finally saw what it was: a tranq dart. Alarm bells rang inside his head, who in the world had shot him with a tranquilizer dart?! He was about ready to take off running in the opposite direction when…his gaze flicked to Skips. The yeti was standing there a few feet away, with a tranq gun in his hands. But the look on his face really said it all: I’m sorry, Mordecai .

Mordecai’s wings flew to the dart sticking out of his neck, quickly yanking it out. But by then it was entirely too late; he could already feel the effects of it begin to overtake him. His legs went out from under him and in a flash Skips was there to stop him from hitting the ground; he fell into a pair of big, strong, muscular arms with short, soft white fur. He could feel a slightly shaky hand brushing gently along the back of his head.

Sleep began to weigh heavily upon Mordecai’s eyelids and before it claimed him entirely, he managed to choke out, “Why?”

“You were hurting yourself pretty badly, Mordecai,” he replied softly, honestly. “I couldn’t stand by and just let ya panic and hurt yourself.” Then he added, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry my question made you react like that…”

Don’t worry, I do that a lot… came the unbidden thought before the darkness swept him up in its sweet embrace.

The brunette hunter slammed Mordecai into a tree, that broad hand wrapped tightly around the smooth column of his neck. A loud “oof” punched out of Mordecai’s chest as his back hit the trunk of the tree. A screech barreled out his throat as the bark broke into tiny pieces and dug sharply into his skin.

He would probably be picking splinters out his back for weeks after this.

“You and that stupid hawk girlfriend of yours better stop messin’ with us. I’ve about had it with her constantly tryin’ and scarin’ us off." The hunter practically spat into Mordecai’s face, his breath was rank, he smelled like a barrel of fish that had been left out in the summer heat. Mordecai had to clench his beak to stop from biting the man’s nose. “But if she don’t stop then I guess you’ll just have to pay for her crimes. eh?”

The last of the breath in his lungs caught in his throat and he watched helplessly as the sadistic man used his free hand to pull out a dagger from his pocket. It had a silver blade with impossibly serrated edges that glinted dangerously in the moonlight, as well as a carved, dark wooden handle.

The hunter glanced back up at him and smiled a wicked smile. He had every intention of killing him for the crime of just trying to scare him and his lackeys away from the forest. I t had been Basil’s idea. She loved and lived to scare away hunters. Mordecai soon found that he liked the idea too. And it usually worked out just fine. Except this time, they must’ve attacked the wrong people.

Mordecai briefly wondered and hoped that Basil was safe. She was the only one that he really cared about at the moment.

A wicked smile turned the corners of the hunter’s mouth up, showing broken, yellowing teeth. “Maybe after you die, I’ll go lookin’ for her and I’ll kill and eat her. How that sound?”

Then, suddenly, adrenaline rushed through Mordecai’s veins, and he thrashed and squirmed desperately against that impossibly strong hand that seemed to squeeze even harder. He kicked his legs out, his talons going for the man’s stomach and the hunter finally let go.

Mordecai fell to the ground in a heap and he desperately sucked in fistfuls of air, his lungs burning from the sudden burst of oxygen flooding them. He managed to get up onto his hands and knees right before the hunter pressed his boot down on the middle of his back forcing him against the ground again.

“Dude, just let me go! Do I really deserve to die just ‘cause I messed with you?” he shouted, his voice sounding ragged to his own ears. “All we did was steal your guns and tent! Good Grop, it’s not that serious!”

The hunter gazed down at him with a wild glint in his blue eyes. “You don’t get it, little blue jay. This isn’t just ‘bout you stealin’ our stuff, it’s about you tryin’ to rise up over us.” The boot on him pressed down a bit harder and Mordecai groaned. “Yeah, exactly. You’re tryin’ to show over us humans how much better ya filthy animals are. Well, guess what? You ain’t!”

A pained cry slipped past his beak as the hunter grabbed hold of one of his tail feathers and yanked, pulling it free. “Y’see, I been huntin’ birds for ages. Since before ya mama ever thought of havin’ you in her tiny bird brain. But I ain’t ever caught a blue jay before. No siree, y’all been sneaky. Loud but sneaky. But today I’m a lucky, lucky man.”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Please stop,” he begged, but the hunter did not listen. Because what else could he possibly do? He was trapped beneath the boot of this merciless man. He would probably die today and the only people that would care would be his parents, Basil, Rigby, and Jannett.

I’m sorry Rigby…for not helping you out your relationship with Jablonski. I know he’s hurting you. I see the bruises…the haunted look in your eyes…I know what he does to you. Even if you won’t say it, I know he’s changing you. You’re becoming colder and more reckless…I just wish I could’ve pulled you away from him before it was too late. I’m sorry, dude. I love you so much…I wish I told you before you started dating that jerk.

I’m sorry Jannett…for telling you that your ska band idea was stupid. I was just being cranky and jealous…you’re a lot cooler than me and I guess I got a little jealous that you can just act so cool and unbothered by people’s opinions. But I know that it’s a mask you put on…I’m sorry, dude. I never got to tell you you’re like the sister that I never had…

I’m sorry mom, dad…I should’ve introduced you to Basil while I had the chance but…ugh..I didn’t want you guys to embarrass me like you always do whenever I bring a girl home. But I guess that’s just your way of teasing and loving me…I’m sorry I lit the living room carpet on fire by accident…I mean I know you guys know that it was an accident but I still kinda bad for it ‘cause mom really liked that weird 80s neon multi-color pattern… and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys I loved you before I left the house earlier…

And Basil? I’m sorry that—

His thoughts fizzled out in his mind as the hunter grabbed him by the beak and waved the dagger in his face. The boot was no longer pressing down on him but even so, he couldn’t move. Fear froze every muscle in his body. He could only close his eyes and wait for the inevitable.

But the inevitable never came.

The sound of heavy footsteps from somewhere up ahead, the all-too familiar sound of leaves crunching, caused him to open his eyes. And it was a good thing too.

In a split second, something incredibly long, thick, thorny, and green wrapped around the hunter’s ankle—it looked a lot like those pictures of vines in jungles and rainforests—and yanked him away from Mordecai. His high-pitched, terrified scream split the quiet, forest air as he was dragged into a thicket of trees and tall bushes.

Despite the absolute terror coursing through his veins, Mordecai shakily got up and went over to where the man had been taken. Every step he took it felt like his legs were going to give way any moment but he pushed through, determined to see what was going on. If it was Basil pulling a trick and saving his life, he’d happily fling himself into her large wings and hug her all day in appreciation.

He stopped dead in his tracks however when he could no longer hear the hunter screaming. The blood was rushing in his ears, terror driving knife-like pain into his heart, as he listened for any sounds of the hunter still being alive. Mordecai wasn’t sure if he could make it beyond the bushes, wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what it was that grabbed the guy.

And then he heard it, very faintly, the hunter whimpering and pleading for whoever to let him go.

“꠸ ᦔꪮꪀ'ꪻ ᦓꫀꫀꪑ ꪻꪮ ᥅ꫀᥴꪖꪶꪶ ꪗꪮꪊ ꪶꫀꪻꪻ꠸ꪀᧁ ꫝ꠸ꪑ ᧁꪮ!” came a deep, growling, horrifying, booming voice, like a slowed down song filtered through a broken radio.

Mordecai flinched violently. He had no idea who that it was, but surely it couldn’t be Basil. It sounded nothing like her. After a quick pep talk with himself, he took a step closer to the bushes.

"ꪮꫝ, ᦓꪮ ꪀꪮ᭙ ꪗꪮꪊ ꪊᦓꫀ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ᠻꪖꪶᦓꫀ ꪻꫀꪖ᥅ᦓ ꪻꪮ ꪻ᥅ꪗ ꪖꪀᦔ ᦔ᥅ꪖ᭙ ᦓꪗꪑρꪖꪻꫝꪗ ᠻ᥅ꪮꪑ ꪑꫀ?!"

The hunter sobbed. “Please, please have mercy on me!” 

Despite everything that the man had done and threatened to do, Mordecai couldn’t help to feel a slight twinge of empathy. So, pushing through the terror coursing through him, he threw his wings out, parted the bushes, and went in, a moment later ending up in a small clearing within the thicket.

His eyes went saucer-wide in surprise at the scene before him; there was a huge mass—easily as tall as the trees around them and as long and wide as a cabin— of freshly fallen leaves taking the shape of a giant hawk.

Two large, piercing, haunting pinpricks of yellow light shone through the face of the creature. Long, thorny green vines rose from its head and fell—reminding Mordecai of an anglerfish’s lure—connecting to a sunflower that dangled in front of its sharp, stone beak.

Flowers sprouted out of the sides of its face; blues, reds, purples, and yellows. A kaleidoscope of pretty colors that entranced anyone who looked at them; and it was slowly working on Mordecai. Its long legs were sticks and long grass. Not to mention its talons which were gouging out deep holes in the earth below, they looked to be made of rose thorns. 

The creature was certainly scary to anyone else but to Mordecai…all he really saw was a strange kind of beauty. A beauty that he wanted to fall into forever. He took a few more steps towards it, gazing at it with wonder, as it grabbed hold of the hunter with its thorny talons and tossed the man out of the thicket like he was merely a toy.

“You’re really strong,” Mordecai said admiringly.

The leafy creature turned its haunting eyes onto him and commanded, “ᦓꪻꪮρ!”

Mordecai stopped dead in his tracks. Beneath the booming bass of its voice, his ears could pick up that familiar accent. “B-Basil?” he called out, tentatively. “Is that you?” If it really was her then it’d be the biggest surprise of the year. He had no idea that she could turn into something so scary yet so beautiful and powerful. 

Basil(?)’s pinprick eyes widened a fraction before narrowing to mere slits. A low growl split through the air and she snapped her beak at him. “ꪗꪮꪊ ᦓꫝꪮꪊꪶᦔ ꪶꫀꪖꪜꫀ,” she commanded. “ᧁꪮ ꪖ᭙ꪖꪗ ᥇ꫀᠻꪮ᥅ꫀ ꪑꪗ ᥇ꫀꪖꪊꪻꪗ ᭙ꫀꪖ᥅ᦓ ꪮᠻᠻ ꪖꪀᦔ ꪗꪮꪊ ᥅ꫀꪖꪶ꠸ƺꫀ ᭙ꫝꪖꪻ ꠸ ꪻ᥅ꪊꪶꪗ ꪖꪑ.”

“But…but uh…what if I still love you even when your beauty fades?” countered Mordecai. He took a few more steps towards Basil, his confidence growing that she wouldn’t hurt him. Her eyes tracked his every movement but otherwise she didn’t make a move to stop him. “Perhaps my heart still beats only for you, Basil?”

The way in which Basil was speaking, kind of like those old plays that they would read aloud in English class, was strange but he wanted to try and match her, to let her know that he was trying to meet on her level. He silently hoped that it was working.

“ꪶ꠸ꪖ᥅! ꠸ ꪖꪑ ꪖ ꪑꪮꪀᦓꪻꫀ᥅, ꪀꪮꪻ ᦓꪮꪑꫀꪻꫝ꠸ꪀᧁ ᦓꪮ ꫀꪖᦓꪗ ꪻꪮ ꪶꪮꪜꫀ. ꪗꪮꪊ ᦓꫝꪮꪊꪶᦔ ꪻꪊ᥅ꪀ ᥇ꪖᥴᛕ ꪀꪮ᭙ ᥇ꫀᠻꪮ᥅ꫀ ꠸ ꫀꪖꪻ ꪗꪮꪊ! ᥇ꫀᠻꪮ᥅ꫀ ꠸ ᥅ꫀꪀᦔ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ᥇ꪮᦔꪗ ꪖꪀᦔ ᦔꫀꪜꪮꪊ᥅ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ᠻꪶꫀᦓꫝ. ᦔ᥅꠸ꪀᛕ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ᥇ꪶꪮꪮᦔ ꪖꪀᦔ ᠻꪮ᥅ᥴꫀ ꪗꪮꪊ ꠸ꪀꪻꪮ ᦔꫀꪖꪻꫝ'ᦓ ᥴꪮꪶᦔ, ᦓ᭙ꫀꫀρ꠸ꪀᧁ ꫀꪑ᥇᥅ꪖᥴꫀ.”

Mordecai quickly tamped down the urge to whimper, to shiver and shudder after hearing such a confession. But he knew that it was only her trying to scare him off. If he gave in then she’d never let him near her again. And he still loved her. Even in the face of all her scariness and false threats.

“That sounds like a fun party,” he joked, hoping that she’d laugh. “Where do I sign up?” He nearly sagged to the ground in relief when he saw Basil’s shoulders shake and heard laughter bubbling up from her. 

“ꪗꪮꪊ'᥅ꫀ ᥅꠸ᦔ꠸ᥴꪊꪶꪮꪊᦓ, ꪖ᥇ᦓꪮꪶꪊꪻꫀꪶꪗ ᥅꠸ᦔ꠸ᥴꪊꪶꪮꪊᦓ,” she managed to say in between bouts of laughter. One mighty, leafy wing reached up and wiped away a shining tear beneath her eye.

Mordecai smiled. “You can’t say I’m ever boring.” Then with a jolt, he realized that he was only a foot away from her. He had been so busy thinking and coming up with ways to talk to her and show that he wasn’t a threat, and now here he was within reaching distance of her.

Basil gave him a wary look before bending her head down to really look him in the eye. Her sunflower lure brushed against his hair and he reached up, gently grabbing it. “ꪗꪮꪊ'ꪜꫀ ᭙꠸ꪻꪀꫀᦓᦓꫀᦔ ꪑꫀ ꪖꪻ ꪑꪗ ᭙ꪮ᥅ᦓꪻ. ꪑꪗ ꪻ᥅ꪊꫀ ᠻꪮ᥅ꪑ ꪗꪮꪊ ꫝꪖꪜꫀ ᠻ꠸ꪀꪖꪶꪶꪗ ᦓꫀꫀꪀ. ᥇ꪊꪻ ᥴꪖꪀ ꪗꪮꪊ ꪖᥴᥴꫀρꪻ ꠸ꪻ? ᥴꪖꪀ ꪗꪮꪊ ᥅ꫀꪖꪶꪶꪗ ꪶꪮꪮᛕ ꪖꪻ ꪑꫀ ꪖꪀᦔ ᦓꪖꪗ ꪻꫝꪖꪻ ꪗꪮꪊ ᦓꪻ꠸ꪶꪶ ꪶꪮꪜꫀ ꪑꫀ?”

Taking in her entire form, his gaze roaming over every part of her, from her thorny talons to her sunflower lure that she let him hold in his wings, he decided right then and there that: Yes, yes, he could say that he still loved her. All of her.

“Of course, I could say that I still love you,” he said confidently with a growing grin. “Did Belle stop loving the Beast even when he turned back human?” Basil rolled her eyes and then snorted. It was really no surprise, that being her absolutely favorite Disney movie. “But better yet, maybe I should show it?”

And so, Mordecai leaned forward, cupped her flowery cheeks in his wings, closed his eyes, and planted a kiss upon the monster’s stone beak.

.

.

.

.

.

Mordecai slowly awoke in the present to the sounds of low humming and a song softly playing on the radio. If he strained his ears enough he could just make out the beginning of “Just Can’t Get Enough” by Depeche Mode. Peace settled on him like a warm blanket on a cold winter night and he found himself slumped against the window with a pillow propped up underneath his cheek. His tongue felt big and heavy in his beak and he wondered what in the world had happened to make it feel like that.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Skips said softly. He gently nudged Mordecai on the shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

A groan slipped past his beak as he tried to lift his head but quickly let it fall back onto the pillow. His head was beginning to throb relentlessly, like a drum beating within his brain. He closed his eyes and said, “Ugh. Why do I feel like I got hit by a train?”

Skips hummed. “I’m guessin’ you don’t remember what happened last night?”

After flicking through all of the memories in his battered, still-sleepy brain, Mordecai shrugged his shoulders and said, “No, not really. I mean, I had a dream about me and Basil…after we messed with some hunters and I almost died but…that’s all I really remember.”

“You almost — what?” Skips said, sounding very confused and Mordecai wanted to laugh. “Messing with hunters? I’m very confused.”

”Yeah, it was a really crazy night!” Then he rolled his eyes and said, “So, what happened last night? You tell me and then I tell you.”

Skips’s grip on the wheel tightened just a fraction and he grimaced. “You started freakin’ out after I asked you if you ever dated someone named Basil,” he replied honestly. “I didn’t know what to do for a solid moment then…well…luckily I still had that tranq gun that Techmo gifted me. Hate to say it but I had to use it on you, nothing else was gonna stop you from ripping out all of your feathers…”

Mordecai blinked in sluggish surprise. It felt like his brain had melted into a half-frozen slush and any thought that entered took forever to come back out.

”Oh, yeah,” he said slowly, “I do that a lot.”

Skips scoffed. “Well, then ya gotta stop doing that. It scared me half to death.”

Mordecai sighed. “I’m sorry, Skips. I didn’t mean to freak you out…I guess I was just…hurting a lot. And I took it out on myself…like usual.”

“It’s alright,” Skips eventually said and placed a comforting hand on Mordecai’s shoulder. “I understand. I ended up feeling that way after Mona died…”

A frown tugged down at the corners of Mordecai’s beak and he let it show as he placed a wing on Skips’s hand. A bit of empathy crept through as he asked, “How’d you do it? I mean, you and Benson? You said you always loved Mona and it’s why you changed your name but…but…” He tried to grasp the words in his mind so he knew what to say next but they refused to form. “I just don’t get it. How’d you finally move on from her?”

Skips didn’t say anything for a few long moments. It took so long in fact that Mordecai began to think that maybe he’d said the wrong thing but luckily the silence was filled by a deep chuckle.

”I’ve been asking myself the same thing. And I think I’ve finally realized a good answer to it.” Skips’s long fingers gently squeezed around Mordecai’s shoulder before relaxing again. “Because I have enough space in my heart to love two people. I love Mona, I always will. She was my first love and I’ll cherish my memories of her forever. I’ll continue to skip in her name until the sun collides into the earth. But I also love Benson. And I began to realize that I shouldn’t force myself to be alone for the rest of my immortal life, that Mona would want me to move on eventually. That wherever she’s waiting for me at, she’s watching over me and hopefully filled with relief that I’m letting happiness in again.” 

By the end of his long speech, there were tears in Mordecai’s eyes. He didn’t bother to wipe them away at first but after Skips gently pointed them out did he finally do it. He had always been a sentimental guy and now here he was crying over someone else’s sentimental speech. About loss and love. And how Skips had moved on from it.

With a wistful sigh, Mordecai ended up explaining what happened in his dream. For once when he talked about Basil it didn’t really hurt; there were no feelings of water in his lungs or the overwhelming panic that would rise and crash over him, making him spiral and think over and over again about how she died.

Don’t get him wrong, it still hurt but it was more of a dull ache than an active knife wound.

Is this what moving on feels like? he thought to himself.

“How is it that you didn’t know what Basil really was before that moment?” Skips asked once Mordecai’s tale had ended.

“I don't know, man!” Mordecai sat up and flung his wings out and nearly tipped himself over, only saved by his head landing against Skips’s solid, broad shoulder. “She told me that Chaz, her ex-boyfriend, saw her true form and freaked out and started calling her a monster and stuff! Like, who does that?!” He knew by now that he was shouting and should feel bad for it, but because of the tranquilizer still in his system, he really didn’t. “When I saw her transform, I thought she was so beautiful! Shouldn’t you just accept your partner for who they are?! ‘Cause I accepted Rigby when he dyed his hair that stupid, pretty bleach-blonde color! I accepted him when he wanted to be a drag queen, I even accepted him when he started going out with Francis Jerkblonski!” With a huff, he added, “And I really regret that last one!”

“...Sounds like you have a lot of unresolved feelings for Rigby.”

“Oh, uh, oops. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that last part out loud,” Mordecai said but laughed anyways. “Rigby wasn’t really a Drag Queen, but he wanted to be. His stage name was gonna be Missy Vicious. But I guess Jablonski talked him out of it…or something.” He coughed to cover up the creeping bitterness in his voice. “Uh, anyways, I’m just comparing stuff here.”

Skips snorted. “I don’t have a problem with that, Mordecai. If you knew the kinds of jealousy and feelings I had for Benson before I finally confessed, you wouldn’t feel so alone,” he said cryptically. But Mordecai was too into his own head to really pay attention to the underlying meaning. 

His thoughts were already winding back to Rigby, wondering what the little raccoon was doing back at home. His eyes closed and imagined himself and Rigby sitting on the couch and playing video games, ignoring their long list of chores. Benson would eventually come in and yell and threaten to fire them both, per usual. It would be nice. And normal.

And maybe, just maybe, he would turn to Rigby and finally tell him how much he loved him.

“I really do love him…” said Mordecai wistfully. “And I miss him.”

“Finally. I was wonderin’ if you’d ever actually say it aloud,” Skips said with a hint of warmth beneath his gruff voice. “Which means I finally get to tell you that he loves you too. Told me so himself yesterday before the whole flower incident.”

Mordecai sighed, his breath parting the fur across Skips’s shoulder. “I wanna hold him and kiss him and tell him that I love him~” he said in a sing-song voice. “He makes my heart do funny little flips.”

“I know, buddy. And you’ll get to do it first thing once we get back from where we’re goin’.”

Eventually Mordecai fell back asleep, partly because of the music playing on the radio, partly because of the tranq still working itself through his system, but also partly because of the continued peacefulness he felt after admitting, aloud, for once, his true feelings for Rigby.