Hey all, sorry for the late update, but it's pretty cool there's a new chapter on my birthday, right? Right? I think I hear crickets chirping. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, should be a good one. I'm gonna see Suckerpunch in the morning. Enjoy!

13 Steps, a Regular Show fanfiction.

Step Seven: The Tightrope

As I got closer to the ambulance and the house, I could see that Pops, Benson, Skips, and even the duo of Muscle Man and High-Five Ghost were standing on the lawn, watching with almost stone-like expressions. Past them, I saw a couple paramedics walking down the steps from the house, and to my shock and dismay-

a stretcher. What the hell is going on?

So quickly everything had turned into a dream. No, a nightmare. My heart tightened as my deepest fears were enfolding before me. I had a sinking feeling of who was on that make-shift bed. Somehow I found the strength to run faster, pushing my legs past their physical limits. My body was filling with adrenaline; I probably could have lifted Pops' taxi in that moment, if I had to.

I stepped onto the grass, joining the group, the damp ground sending an even deeper chill throughout my body. I took a split second to catch my breath and looked to Pops. His stare met my own and worry consumed his features. If Pops looked worried, this was serious. VERY serious.

"Pops, Benson, what's going on?" I stammered through breaths, feeling dizzy with worry. Both of us had sustained some pretty gnarly injuries over the years, but nothing that ever sent us to the hospital.

"Mordecai, there was an accident," Pops started, his normally cheery voice was laced with sadness and concern. "Rigby was using the micromachine and-"

"Microwave," Benson interrupted, correcting Pops. "We don't know what he was doing but I was upstairs in my office, doing paperwork, and heard a loud booming noise, almost like an explosion. Skips had gotten their first and Rigby was lying on the floor. I thought he was dead, because...well, come see for yourself."

He motioned toward the stretcher, now raised on its stilts. I hesitantly stepped closer, hoping whatever I saw didn't make me sick. This was just too much to handle; Rigby was known for doing stupid, careless things, but I couldn't imagine him nuking a microwave. It's didn't make sense.

What was Rigby thinking?

I took a deep breath and peered over the bed. My jaw dropped when I saw what Benson was talking about: patches of bare, reddened skin were visible all over his small body. Where there was still fur intact, it was singed black, his natural brown fur non-existent. His mouth was just a frown line, devoid of life. I turned my head, feeling guilty that I couldn't handle the sight of him. He looked so mangled and-

I ran for the nearest bush and heaved into it, almost falling over from fatigue. I was already tired; now I truly knew what being exhausted was. I walked back to the group after a moments of getting my breath back, and saw they were loading Rigby into the back of the ambulance. An EMT was talking with them, probably letting them know what was happening. I tuned in to what he was saying.

"...second-degree burns, and trauma to the head. He's lucky to be alive, honestly, but he's not out of the woods yet. His body in still in shock and we need to keep a sharp eye on his heart. None of you know the cause of the malfunction?" he asked, and everyone just shook their heads, unable to answer with anything useful. The whole scene was surreal.

"Excuse me," I asked, my voice croaking and hoarse. "Can I ride with him? He's my best friend."

The EMT looked to Benson, knowing he was in charge as if for confirmation. For once Benson didn't over-analyze the situation and nodded back to him then looked to me, sighing. "Keep an eye on him, Mordecai, and we'll be there in a couple hours. I have to fill out an employee injury report, which is going to take a while, but if I don't get it done right away it could cost the park a lot of money."

I couldn't believe Benson was concerned with money right now while Rigby's life was hanging in the balance. I could felt anger rise to my chest, but it was cut short when I felt a gentle squeeze on my shoulder. Skips was next to me and I looked to him, and he gave me a simple nod, as if he knew exactly what I was feeling. His signal reminded me I didn't have time to argue, Rigby needed me.

"Alright, see you guys soon," I replied solemnly, walking away from the group and towards the flashing lights. Maybe me being close to him would keep his mind intact. If anything ever happened to him...I would never forgive myself.

They say when you have a near-death experience you see your life flash in front of you. I don't know who 'they' were, but boy, were they wrong.

The first thing I felt was the sensation that I was being thrown into the sky, like somebody had shot me out of a super-sized cannon. Colors and sounds burst past me in a blur, and my tail was whipping violently from the force. I could barely see through my watering eyes, my fur pressing firmly into my skin. I couldn't even let out a scream.

I was picking up speed yet my vision seemed to get clearer: I was staring into a purplish-red void that seemed to be getting brighter and brighter, as if it was sucking me up into a star. Panic was rising in my chest steadily and I closed my eyes, figuring this was how people died, and I was next to experience the sensation. I didn't wanna die, not without coming clean to Mordecai.

As an unnatural calm came over me, I was about to accept my fate when suddenly I felt myself slowing down. I hesitantly opened my eyes to find I could see perfectly again, and the infinite void was a more vibrant red against the dark shade of purple.

I'm...not dead?

I slowed to a stop, but I was still in mid-air. Having no control of my body was terrifying but I figured there was nothing I could do at the moment. Slowly I began to descend, wondering where I'd stop. As far as I could tell there's wasn't solid ground anywhere near me. Is this what Mordecai had felt when he traveled in time?

My feet finally hit solid ground, even though I couldn't see where I was standing exactly, but thankfully it felt like I could walk and control my own body again. Problem was, I didn't want to walk anywhere. What if I feel into the void again? Nervously I took a couple baby steps, testing out my surroundings. More solid ground, so it was a good sign.

I walked a little more sturdy, trying to figure out where to walk, when I felt my elbow smash into something solid and cool. I yelped as I heard a crash beside me, loud and echoing. Crap, that sounded like glass.

But there was nothing there.

Nothing I could see anyway. I tiptoed back into motion and shushed myself, raising my arms out in front of me carefully. Hopefully I could get a feel of what I was-

My paw had pushed against something heavy, and I heard it sway, so it was tall too.

Crash.

I moaned in fright, darting my glance left and right. Where the h was I?

"Who's there? ANOTHER one?" I heard a booming voice bellow with an annoyed tone, making me jump with shock. A gust of powerful wind blew past me, colors and shades swarming in the air from all different directions. When they came into focus, I realized they were-

Clocks. Oh man.

They stacked in position and made an awkward humanoid form, which was towering over me. Just like Pops, the shape had on one of the those goofy old-fashioned hats, only this one was shorter and more round. An arm of clocks suddenly extended toward me, as if it was pointing at me. "Look at the mess you made, my living room's trashed, again!"

Again?

"I'm sorry," I stammered, wide eyed. Mordecai and I had seen some crazy stuff over the years, but never a man made out of clocks. This was definitely a first.

"Oh, you're sorry? Were you sorry you microwaved my clocks?" he boomed, still pointing. "You're just like Mordecai."

Wait, how does he know Mordecai?

"Yeah, I know the guy, he was here just like you are now," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "And I know you Rigby. I know EVERYONE."

"Creepy," I stated, unable to control myself. I mean, it was.

"You try dealing with every being in the Universe. 'Oh, if only I could turn back time!'" he mocked in a shrill voice, waving the clock arm. "As if I'm supposed to give do-overs to everyone. I know why you're here Rigby, and what you did is something you'll have to live with."

"What? Hey, that's not fair. You gave Mordecai a do-over, he told me!" I yelled angrily at him, shaking. I didn't come all this way only to be sent back. No way.

"Mordecai was ignorant of his actions. He didn't discover his jealousy until I showed him through my Truth Hole," he replied curtly. "You copied Mordecai knowing what would happen, figuring you could get a free pass."

I looked away. I knew he was right.

The room felt cold and lifeless, the steady beeping of the life support rhythmically continuing to a beat that was far from soothing. Bandages had been wrapped all over his small body, making him look like a makeshift mummy with tubes sticking out. It was a horrible sight, and I could barely stand it. Rigby wasn't the type to be bed-ridden, he was full of life and emotion. Sometimes it was almost too much to handle, but it made him special. Truthfully, I was I could wear my emotions on my sleeve...wing, like he did instead of bottling them up.

I sighed, thinking back to the past couple weeks. In my excitement being with Margaret, I hadn't even cared how he had felt. I told him to go find someone, but never actually helped him with it. He and I both knew he was awkward meeting new people, because most of them didn't understand his personality. First impressions weren't really his thing.

I looked over to his bed, half-expecting him to be awake.

I'm sorry dude.

I shivered and groaned. This room was WAY too cold for my liking. Not just the temperature, but it had a horrible vibe to it. I stood up, stretching. Maybe if I moved around a bit it would help. I walked over to Rigby's bed, placing my wings on the metal frame. They were icy to the touch but in a weird way I felt better being closer to him. I watched as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but other the that simple motion, he was still.

Without much hesitation I lifted my wing from the bar and placed it gently on the top of his head, one of the only places on his body that was spared from the burns. I scratched it gently, careful not to go near the bandages. His fur was cold, but soft to the touch.

What am I doing?

I shook my head, but continued to rub his head. I couldn't help myself, it was protective and almost...natural. I couldn't describe it. My heart was racing with a mess of feelings and thoughts. I swallowed hard, picturing imagery I never thought possible. As soon as Rigby wakes up I-

"Mordecai."

I stopped rubbing Rigby's head immediately, turning around at the sudden call of my name. "I was...Margaret?"

She smiled softly, holding a small bouquet of flowers. "Good, I found the right room," she said sadly, placing them gently on the desk behind her. "It's the best I could find on short notice."

I walked over to her and embraced her, searching for the comfort I needed. It was short-lived as she pulled back almost immediately. I figured she was probably upset at the sight of Rigby mangled up.

"How did you find us?" I asked.

"Well, I meant to come over to talk to you, and that Yeti guy-"

"Skips."

"Yeah, Skips, answered when I knocked. He told me everything...well, that he knew." she replied softly. "I asked the receptionist downstairs for the room number, said I was family."

"Family? She bought that?" I laughed softly, then felt guilty knowing Rigby was behind me.

"I guess," she shrugged, looking away. Was she really this shook up about Rigby like this? I mean, they never interacted anywhere except the coffee shop.

"Margaret, the doctors said Rigby would be alright, so if you're upset about it we can-"

"That's not it," she cut me off, raising a wing. She looked away again, still visibly upset.

Then what is it?

"Look, I know this isn't the best time, at all. There's something I have to tell you though, something you're not going to like. I have to say it because it's important. Can we...go into the hall?" she motioned toward the door.

I swallowed hard.

I looked back up at the humanoid clock man, ears lowered. "Father Time, I know what I did was wrong, and I'd give anything to change it. I care about Mordecai more than anything and losing him would...well, I wouldn't be able to handle it. I'm asking you for this, to please send me back."

There was a moment of silence before the booming voice replied. "I'm sending you back, Rigby, but to the present. You should be grateful you're alive in the first place."

"But-"

"No Rigby. This lesson is something that needs to be taught. You will understand in time that things happen for a reason. Rely less on the clock you see on the wall and look closer at the clock inside yourself."

"That doesn't even make sense," I huffed, defeated.

"It will, eventually. Time has a way of working its own magic. Now go, and face your timeline."

I nodded, looking deep into the void. There was nothing left to do expect face it all.

My body slid down the hallway's wall as if in slow motion, until I felt myself sitting on the tile, staring into the fluorescent lights above me in disbelief. The sound of footsteps echoed until they faded away.

And there you have it, Margaret spilled the beans. Should be interesting to see how Mordecai handles it. We'll find out next time on Days of Our- I mean, 13 Steps!