Chapter 7: So close, yet so far
Things began winding down on the set as another day of shooting for one of Mickey's cartoons came to a close. Toon actors began clearing out while others began shutting down everything on the set for the day. Oswald hopped among the rafters, helping shut off the overhead lights and cameras, a big help, since they were harder to reach for the crew. Once his task was complete, he hopped back down to the floor, then plopped down into one of the director's chairs, yawning as he watched everyone scurry about.
Working on cartoons wasn't nearly as fun when you couldn't even go on-screen. Due to the still-standing legal issues, Oswald was only allowed to help out with the simplest of tasks on set—all of them off-screen. He sighed as he watched Walt talking to Mickey off-set. He tried to imagine himself in Mickey's place, back when times had been simple; all the fun and thrill of acting and getting into character, performing stunts, working with the other actors, all the unexpected success he had brought Walt...
A hand on his shoulder suddenly snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Huh?" Oswald looked up.
"Hello, Son."
"Oh hi, Dad."
"You look a little bored."
"Kind of..."
"How would you like to help me some more with the movie?"
Oswald instantly perked up. "Sure!"
"All right, this is what I need done." Walt handed Oswald some blueprints that detailed the creation of several set models. "I need these made into 1/5th scale models before we can build the actual set pieces of them. Do you think you can do that?"
"Affirmative!" Oswald gave him a salute. Walt smiled, giving him a gentle pat on the head. "We're about to do a test screening for one of our latest shorts. Would you like to join us?"
"Oh uh, sure..." Oswald assumed that meant one of Mickey's cartoons, but didn't want to turn Walt down. He followed as Walt led them to the preview room, which resembled a small theater. As Oswald plopped into one of the theater seats, he sighed slightly, wishing that he was in the cartoon. As if reading his mind, Walt reached over and gently rubbed Oswald's head.
"I know, Son, I know." Oswald briefly glanced at Walt before focusing his attention on the screen. Mickey, who was sitting next to them, glanced over briefly, but said nothing.
As Oswald watched the cartoon unfold, he had to admit he was impressed. It was really well done; the timing, the gags, the story, everything. Even the title was kind of clever; 'Building a Building.' Something about it also seemed uncannily familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on what. At first, he simply brushed the feeling off as a mere case of déjà vu. But as the cartoon progressed, the feeling persisted, and then, just before the ending, it suddenly all clicked in Oswald's mind. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor at the sudden realization. As the film flickered off and the screen darkened, Oswald was still in shock.
"What do you think, Oswald?" Mickey asked.
Oswald didn't respond. He just couldn't believe this! How...? Why...?
"Oswald...?"
Oswald shot the oblivious mouse a sudden angry glare. Mickey gasped, flinching back a bit.
"...What did I do?" he asked innocently. Oswald said nothing and looked away. Walt let out a sigh.
"Mickey, why don't you go get yourself something to drink?" Walt told Mickey.
"...Okay..." Mickey replied awkwardly, heading for the door. Once he was gone, Walt kneeled down next to Oswald.
"Son, it's not what it looks like."
Oswald glared at him with a hurt look. "How could you?!"
"Oswald, I had this cartoon written before I got you back. It was my way of remembering you..."
"More like replacing me," Oswald muttered so quietly that Walt didn't quite catch it.
"What?"
"Nothing," Oswald grumbled, looking away.
"Oswald, I promise you I'm doing everything I can to get full rights to you so we can start making cartoons again. I want nothing more than to see you acting again."
"I know..."
"Mickey is a lot like you, you know." Oswald flinched and Walt realized he had unintentionally struck a nerve. "Oswald—"
"Never mind. Good job on the cartoon..."
"...Thank you, Son."
"You're welcome..." Oswald got up and headed for the door.
"Oswald."
Oswald paused briefly. "What?"
"Please don't be like this."
"Why don't you go find Mickey then? I'm sure he'll give you less trouble."
"Oswald!"
Oswald didn't answer and began walking again until a firm tug on his arm stopped him in his tracks.
"How could you even think that?" Oswald didn't answer him. "Oswald, you're not any trouble at all!"
"Yeah, right."
"Why would you ever think that?"
"No reason."
"Oswald, stop that!"
"What?!"
"You know what." Oswald groaned and tried to pull away from him. "Why won't you talk to me?!" Walt exclaimed in frustration.
"There's nothing to talk about!"
"Yes, there is! You're upset about something and you won't tell me what."
"It's nothing you would understand! I'm fine!"
"Oswald, I'm your father, I'll always understand."
"Not this time."
"Oswald, what's happening to you?!"
"Nothing! I told you, I'm fine!"
Walt sighed in defeat. "Very well, Son. When you're ready to talk to me, I'm here."
Oswald didn't answer and quickly exited the room. Walt shook his head sadly. He couldn't believe this. Why wouldn't Oswald talk to him? They had always been able to tell each other anything before. It pained him deeply as a parent that Oswald didn't seem to trust him anymore.
Walking out, he noticed Mickey standing right outside the door to the preview room. He sighed, realizing he should've known the mouse's curiosity would get the better of him.
"I'm sorry you had to hear all that, Mickey."
"Why is he so upset?"
"He's just getting used to things is all..."
"Dad... why does he hate me?"
Walt crouched down to Mickey's level. "Now, Mickey, he does not hate you."
"Then why is he so mean?"
"I think he just needs more time to adjust to things is all..." Walt sounded somewhat unsure himself.
"Dad...?"
"Yes, Mickey?"
"...Can I ask you something without sounding rude?"
"Of course, Mickey. What is it?"
"Why do you keep helping him if he's being so rude to us?"
"Because he's my son and I care for him very much, just like I do you." Walt placed a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "Part of being a parent is being supportive through both the ups and downs. You'll understand someday."
"I understand, Dad," Mickey responded with a nod. "Was his life really that bad after you left?"
Walt gave a slight nod, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes. He didn't know for sure, but judging from the nightmares Oswald had been having the first week he arrived home, it hadn't been pleasant.
"What was he like before all this happened?"
"He was very playful, friendly, and carefree, though somewhat troublesome at times. And I know he still is, deep down inside."
"Oh..." Mickey then looked down.
"What's wrong, Mickey?"
"Whatever it is, I think it has to do with me..."
Walt gently ran a hand down the side of Mickey's face, then gently lifted his chin up. "You have done nothing wrong, Mickey. I promise it will all work out soon, now don't you worry."
Mickey smiled. "Thank you, Dad."
Walt smiled back, rubbing Mickey's head. "Of course, Mickey."
"I guess I was more lucky than he was..."
"That's only because I made sure that the same thing would never happen to you."
As Mickey pondered this, memories suddenly came back to him in a flash.
A bright, blinding, white light enveloped what was once dark and lifeless. As his vision cleared, he awoke to find himself on a slanted surface. He looked around in confusion, unsure of where he was or what was going on. A man stood over him, examining him.
"Hmm... yes, I do believe you will do." The man gave him a warm smile. "Hello there."
"Uh... hello..."
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, don't you?" the man said with a smile.
"...Y-Yes, Sir..."
"Let me introduce myself. My name is Walt Disney and I created you to be the star of a new series of cartoon shorts."
"Me? A star?!"
The man chuckled weakly, trying to ignore the small twinge of betrayal pulling at his heartstrings. "Yes, that's right."
"But why?"
"Because I believe you will be perfect for the job."
"Gosh... thanks, Mr. Disney."
"Of course," the man responded with a small smile as he gently picked the mouse up and set him on the floor.
"What is this place?" the toon asked as he began looking around the room.
"This is my house," Walt replied.
"It's a very nice house, Mr. Disney." the mouse said, walking out into the hallway. He then noticed the door to one of the bedrooms slightly ajar and went to take a closer look through the door crack.
"What's this room?" A sudden pull on his arm caught Mickey off guard and he gasped slightly in surprise as Walt led him away from the room.
"Oh that's nothing. Just an old guest room that we're cleaning out. Lillian wouldn't want you to see the mess. Come on downstairs, I want you to meet my wife."
"Oh... okay..." Mickey replied, a bit uneasily. Walt led him downstairs to where a woman was preparing dinner.
"Lillian Dear? I have someone I want you to meet."
She turned and looked at Mickey, seeming surprised for a second.
"Os—?!" she initially started to exclaim, but stopped herself as she noticed that this toon was different, lowering her voice. "...Oh, I'm sorry, I thought..." she spoke softly, her voice drifting off as she hastily wiped a tear from her eye. She then forced herself to put on a warm smile as she got down to Mickey's level. "My, aren't you a little darling! What's your name?"
"...I don't have one, Ma'am."
"Why, that's silly, everyone has a name!" Lilly looked up at Walt, expecting for an answer.
"Well, I was thinking of naming him "Mortimer Mouse."
Lillian gave him a slightly disgusted look. "Mortimer?! What are you thinking, giving him such a dreadfully pompous name as that?" She then turned to look at the mouse again, examining him. "Why, this little fellow looks more a Mickey to me."
Walt sighed and looked at the mouse. "Well, what do you think, Little Guy?"
"Mickey?" the mouse repeated, pausing to think for a moment. "I like it!"
Lilly glanced at Walt, smiling at her victory. "See? Mother knows best."
Walt shook his head slightly but smiled. "Of course, Dear. But it does seem to suit him."
"Mother?" Mickey questioned. Lilly hesitated to respond, glancing at Walt with an unsure, sad look. Walt gave her a reassuring nod. Lilly nodded and took a deep breath as she answered Mickey.
"Yes. We consider you family now."
Mickey paused, glancing over at Walt, then back at Lilly. "Why do you two look sad?"
Both Walt and Lilly froze for a moment.
"Oh, it's just—"
"—I recently lost my job," responded Walt, finishing her sentence.
"...Sorry about that."
"It's all right, I learned my lesson and I will never work for another man again. I now plan to start my own company, with your help."
"...You really think I can help?"
"Of course, that's why I created you."
"...I'll do my best, Sir!"
Walt smiled. "I'm sure you will."
hr
The following night, Mickey heard voices coming from down the hall. He slowly crept out of bed and into the hallway where one of the bedroom doors was open just a crack. He could hear Lilly weeping and out of curiosity, he peeked through the door crack.
"Shhh, it's all right, Dear," Walt comforted her.
"He looks just like him... It's like we're trying to replace him already..." Lilly responded, weeping. Walt hugged her.
"No... we could never replace him. But we need to move on for now. I can't stay out of work much longer."
Lilly sniffled. "I know... I just miss him so much..."
"I miss him too, Honey..."
It soon became quiet as they went to bed. Mickey secretly watched through the door crack as Walt gazed sadly at a picture in his hand before climbing into bed with Lilly.
Who's "he?" Who are they talking about? he wondered as the lights blinked out.
"Mickey?"
Mickey blinked. "...Huh?"
"You all right?" Walt asked the mouse, who had been staring off into space for a while now.
"...I now know why you and Mom were so sad the day I was created."
Walt sighed. "Yes... we were still recovering from losing Oswald at the time..."
Mickey suddenly hugged him. "I didn't mean to make Mom cry..."
Walt wrapped his arms around Mickey, holding him close. "Now, Mickey... It's not your fault."
"I know..." He sniffled.
Walt squeezed him tight. "Shhh..." he coaxed, gently rubbing Mickey's back. "Everything's going to be all right."
Mickey relaxed a bit, snuggling in his arms. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, Mickey, very much so." He gave Mickey's forehead a little kiss.
A/N: This is more of a connector chapter to the next one. I've already written out much of the next chapter, so that one won't be as nearly long a wait. Some of the scenes in this chapter were recently planned and RPed out while others were done for a while, which is why this chapter took a while. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
