They've Done So Much to You
A/N: I'm really not sure whether to make this a chapter story or not. Part of me wants to, part of me thinks I should just let it die. "LET IT DIE, LET IT DIE, LET IT SHRIVEL UP AND..." Anyway. I don't know. So should I take the O'Hare way and let it die, or the Ted way and let it grow?
I've written for this fandom before, but I've never written the Lorax himself, so please tell me how I did? :)
"Alright." I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and my index finger. "You guys have seriously got to stop this."
None of the animals so much as looked up. Mustache was playing cards with one of the Humming Fish and one of the swans, and Pipsqueak was nosing at my trouser pocket, hoping for a marshmallow.
I grudgingly took one out of my pocket and held it up just far enough out of the little bear's reach. "I'm only giving this to you if you and the others promise to listen."
Pipsqueak perked up his tiny ears, not understanding what he was supposed to listen to. He widened his big brown eyes pleadingly and I had to close my own. It wasn't fair that these animals were too darn adorable to resist.
"Guys!"
Mustache shuffled his cards unhurriedly. "Oh, were you talking to me?" The picture of innocence.
"I'm talking to all of you!" I straightened my fedora, glaring around at each of the animals nearby in turn. Pipsqueak shrank back a little when I locked gazes with him, and I softened my glare just a tad. He was too cute to stay mad at for long. "And I bet you all know exactly what I'm talking about, too."
Mustache heaved a sigh. "Alright. Shoot, Beanpole."
And shoot I did. "Can you guys try and at least be a bit easier on them? They're my family!"
"Really?" Mustache raised a skeptical eyebrow. "With the way they talk to you, I wouldn't even know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I fumed, taking a step closer to him. I folded my arms, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
"I'm only saying…" he shrugged. "Telling you you'll never amount to anything, constantly belittling you and making you out to be less than…that's not really what family's for."
"Listen, Mustache," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose again. "That's really none of your business."
He leapt to his feet, his brows drawing down into a terrible scowl, one I didn't think somebody like him could make. "They're staying in my forest! Every aspect of their lives is my business!"
"Well, you don't treat every aspect of my life as—oh wait." I stopped. "Yes, you do, actually, what with all the sleeping in my bed."
"You said you didn't mind that!" he protested.
"No, I don't," I admitted, even though a small part of me still did. The animals had become friends to me and I honestly didn't mind sharing my house with them so much anymore. "But what I do mind is constantly harping on my family, making life here miserable for them! If you guys aren't careful, you're gonna make them leave!"
I thought maybe my words would get through to them, maybe they'd listen. But, slowly, they exchanged looks and a few of them even cheered, several more nodding. They all seemed pretty happy about this.
"You guys don't understand! I need them here! I can't meet the customers' demands on my own!"
Mustache looked around at all the animals, and then back at me. "You don't need them, Beanpole."
"Yes!" I fumed. "Yes, I do! I'm finally doing something right, they're finally proud of me!"
"Shouldn't they have been proud of you before?"
"You can just shut your mustache!" I didn't even realize I was raising my voice. "Before doesn't matter anymore, okay?! Just leave me – and them – alone!" I finished off my rant with such a loud shout that Pipsqueak drew away from me, little ears drooping, big brown eyes welling with tears.
"Oh…" I sighed, kneeling down next to the cub. "Listen, Pipsqueak, I didn't mean to shout." I half-heartedly offered him the marshmallow, which he took with perhaps a bit less glee than before. But with a single scratch behind the ears, he seemed appeased again.
Mustache, however, wasn't that easy to convince. He gave one of those 'I'm-better-than-you' sniffs complete with an accusatory glare and threw his cards down on one of the rocks, taking a few steps closer to me.
Pipsqueak clung to my trouser leg, and I picked him up gently, patting him on the back as he settled down in my arms with a squeal of delight.
Mustache folded his arms, glaring at the bear as if to silently call him a traitor.
"You have anything to say?" Maybe my voice came out a bit more aggressively than planned, but I didn't try to soften it. He could shut his freakishly overgrown mustache if he had any more bad things to say.
"No." he replied angrily, but I knew it was a lie. "But we're not going to stop trying to run 'your family' out of the forest."
"Okay." I set Pipsqueak aside, just in case I started shouting again. "Why do you hate them so much? They've never done a single thing to you!"
His eyes softened and I could sense that there was something he wanted to say, something big, something that he was almost…afraid to say.
But who needs him, right? I thought to myself, picking my guitar back up from the grass and slipping it easily around my neck.
I refrained from touching the strings; I could still remember the first and last time I had ever played in front of my mother, and needless to say, things did not end well.
As I was walking away, I thought I heard a voice say quietly, "But they've done so much to you, Beanpole."
I whipped around, trying to catch the person who'd said it. But nobody was there anymore. I sighed, turning away.