13 Steps, a Regular Show fanfiction.
Step Eleven: The Confrontation
Black. Pitch black.
It was all around me, almost suffocating. I couldn't tell up from down, left from right. I couldn't even call it a place, room or any sort of structure. There was no ceiling, or floor. Was I back with Father Time?
"Hello?"
Not even an echo.
"Hello?" I cried louder, desperately hoping for a response. Still no answer.
Frustrated, I felt myself screaming out, the yell of someone who feels the kind of internal pain you wouldn't wish on your greatest enemy. The kind of pain you can't just heal physically. The kind of pain that envelops you over a period of time, slowly, like a cancer.
Hesitantly I felt myself place a foot forward, testing the emptiness. It was solid and I was still standing somehow. I exhaled, trying another step. Solid. As slowly as I felt comfortable, if you could call it that, I was now walking forward.
"Mordecai."
I pivoted at the sound of my name. It was low, almost in pain. My eyes scanned the darkness, and a brown figure was focusing into view.
Rigby.
It looked as if he were on a floor below me, standing out of reach. His head was turned down, his face away from sight.
"Rigby!" I yelled, trying to get his attention. His head remained turned away, even as I kept calling his name over and over. Why was he ignoring me? I stomped the void below me, an anger spreading through me that had never existed until now...and I heard a deafening shatter of what sounded like glass below me.
"Argh!"
My cry of surprise was enveloping in the sound of rushing wind carrying me downward, further into this hell. Was that where I was? Hell? I lost control my body to the gravity around me and for a moment it seemed like I was in suspended motion. I clawed the air hopelessly, hoping for something to grab. In an instant I was falling again, this time faster. Suddenly I felt myself slamming into the ground with a force that should have killed me. Instead, the wind was knocked out of me, and I gasped for breath. Groaning, I tried to sit up, the pain excruciating. I shook my head, now realizing I was on the same level as Rigby. I limped over to him, his head still turned away, still ignoring my presence. Hadn't he called out to me?
"Look at me! LOOK AT ME!" I yelled, my wings grabbing his thin shoulders, meaning to grip fur. I had grabbed fur all right...I had pulled it right off his skin. I gasped in disgust as my wings now held large clumps, brown and mangled. The fur began to feel warm on my feathers, growing hotter every second. I threw them away, stricken with fear and guilt. Lying on the void near my feet I could see the smoke rising from them in trails of silver, swirling into nothing.
"Look at me," I said again softly, desperate, hot tears forming in my eyes. I meant to grab him again, but his body tottered to one side, slowly, like a swaying bridge. I watched in horror as he collapsed. The smoke had returned, starting as wispy silver trail, emitting from his side. The trails were growing now, becoming hot steam, carrying in all directions. Small yellow flames began to dance on the edges of his remaining fur, starting their way from his feet, crawling slowly all the way to his head. Before I knew it, the yellow had burst into an angry orange, traces of blue and bright white forming beneath.
I fell to my knees, disbelief clouding my mind and a numbing feeling of horror spreading through my entire body. I couldn't save him; I was useless.
I called his name again, shouting it over and over until...
...my eyes shot open the sound of a siren buzzing in my ears, sharp and sudden. The alarm. It was all a dream, yeah. Of course I was still with Margaret and of course Rigby was still my best bro. A few months time in my dream were just hours of sleep and-
I realized it wasn't the alarm: I was in mid-scream, actually smelling the acrid bark-like scent of fire from my newest nightmare. I shot up and covered my mouth with my wings, muffling the sound. I exhaled, shivering, a cold sweat chilling my feathers.
Why me?
The nightmares had started ever since Margaret left, and had only gotten worse with time. Each one was more horrific than the last, each of them reminded me of the mistakes I had made, the failures I couldn't stop. Whoever said time heals all wounds was full of crap. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. It was exhausting, physically and mentally, and the worse part was I had no idea how to stop them. I couldn't ask Skips, he'd tell Benson eventually. Pops obviously wouldn't understand, and Muscle Man...I shivered at the thought. But the one person I definitely couldn't bring myself to discuss this with was-
Rigby was coming up the stairs, no, scampering; with each creaky step he was getting closer. I panicked, throwing the sheets back over me. Just as I threw myself back down on my mattress with a small, padded thud, the door to our bedroom swung open, and there he was standing in the doorway with a look of concern and fear.
"Mordecai, what's wrong?" he heaved, eyes wide. Yeah, he had been running.
"What? Nothing's wrong dude," I lied, lowering my voice and making it raspy like I had been sleeping until Rigby bust the door open.
Just go away Rigby. Please.
"I heard a scream," he frowned, walking into the room, still breathing hard.
"It was the alarm, everything's fine."
Go away. Please. Stop caring.
"That didn't sound like the alarm, Mordecai. If you had a bad dream it's OK."
I hid deeper in the covers, hoping Rigby would get the hint and leave. It happened like this almost every morning. It had been going on for weeks as a result of the nightmares, and Rigby was starting to catch on. I didn't have the heart to tell him to leave, which drove me crazy. I wanted to scream in his face, let me know it the worst way that this was all his fault, that I didn't want him living in the same space as me anymore. Deep down, though, I knew we both had caused this disaster.
"I wasn't dreaming, you woke me up, OK?"
I heard Rigby sigh. "Fine, dude, I guess I was hearing things." I heard footsteps lowly shuffle out of the room, followed by the sound of the door shutting behind him, gently. Too gently.
I almost wished he would have slammed it. Burying my head into the pillow, I pleaded to no one for a dreamless sleep.
I shook my head slowly, defeated. Mordecai was lying, no doubt about it. Navy blues and blacks were angrily swirling around his heart, beaming through the sheets. His core had lost Color during the night, and was flickering like an old light bulb about to sputter out and die.
Die.
I shivered at that word that seemed all too real. The tension between us was awkward and awful, and it hurt seeing just how bad it had become. I couldn't see my own Colors, as I referred to them now, but I could feel them deep within me; I could almost feel their angry heat.
Still, I knew I didn't have time to keep dwelling on the Colors and the insanity of the way things had become. I had a plan, and it was in motion. There was a sense of determination in me I never had felt before, and maybe, just maybe, it would help me make this a success.
We had chosen the coffee shop because it was the easiest place for both of us, at least by distance. Standing in front of the building felt odd, like I had never been here before in my life. I really didn't want to go in, but at this point I had no choice.
I push the glass door open and stepped inside. Yeah, everything looked the same, so why did it feel so different? It's not like it had been years since I stepped foot in here. I scanned the shop, waves of different emotions hitting me. Guilt, fear, sadness, anger and even a trace of happiness; was that left from the good times we actually had here? Laughing about anything and everything, making fun of Benson behind his back, all the things we wanted to do in our lives? It seemed so far away.
I saw a red wing waving from the back, and hesitantly I started to walk to her four-person table, weaving through the other tables scattered with other customers. I took a deep breath, and put on a brave face.
Get it together, Rigby.
"Hey, Rigby," she smiled, as if she was totally unaware of why I was her. "Have a seat."
I nodded, taking the chair opposite of her. "Thanks Margaret." As our stares met, I replayed the night I had spent with her in my head. The way she slowly undressed like she was teasing, the seductive look she had given me before I hopped into her bed, the way our bodies managed to intertwine-
Stop it. Stop being a jerk. You almost lost your best friend because of this Capital W.
"Are you OK?" she asked, a frown forming on her beak.
"Yeah, sorry, I zoned out for a second," I lied, looking away embarrassed. This wasn't going to be easy.
"It's alright. I'm surprised you called me," she casually replied, a soft smile reappearing, but I could have sworn she had a playful hint in her voice. The tone of voice that said, "Cut the crap, Rigby, and let's screw." I didn't want her thinking I was checking out her lady pecs, but I couldn't deny the Colors, deep purples in thick, swirling motions that I hadn't seen in the guys back at the park. Mixed in were circular spots of green. What did the purples mean? And was she jealous? Of what?
"Yeah, it's important. Really important," I said, not returning the smile.
"Yeah?" That playfulness again.
My tail switched nervously underneath the seat. "It's about Mordecai."
"Oh," she commented, suddenly looking bored. Her wings crossed and folded, a look of displeasure replacing that smile instantly. "So Mordecai told you I broke it off, huh?"
I felt my muzzle contract in surprise. "Yeah, you didn't think he would?"
She almost look taken aback, like I was a zombie from Zombie Dinner Party about to devour her. "After all that happened...with you and me...I thought he would have hated you. I mean, can you blame me?"
I had to kinda agree with her with her logic, but she obviously didn't understand the bond Mordecai and I had, the years of friendship that defined us.
"He was really upset by it, yeah, but we're still friends. He's my bro, for life." I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, swallowing.
She nodded cautiously, the green spots growing noticeably brighter. It was distracting but at the same time gave me clues as to where her heart was. There was an awkward pause, the two of us looking in different directions.
"So Rigby," she spoke up, breaking the silence. "Why do you want to talk about Mordecai? I'm...kind of over it to be honest."
I felt myself blink in disbelief. Over it? Mordecai was the best thing to happen to you!
I kept my cool though. "Margaret, Mordecai misses you, bad. He's getting worse every day without you, and it just shows how much he really cares about you. He loves you you know."
"I know he does, Rigby, I just can't say I feel the same," she said coolly. "He's a nice guy and all, but he was always worrying about something."
She's making this impossible.
"So what if he worried? Maybe he was worried about making sure you were happy. Don't you want a guy who treats you right?" I asked, almost desperately.
She rolled her eyes and sat up straighter, her stare burning into mine. "Look, Rigby, I know you're worried about Mordecai, he's your best friend, I get it. But please don't try and force him back on me. He's a good guy, I'll say it again, but I have an attraction for guys who are more...up front, and masculine. Mordecai is shy, and unsure of himself most of the time. I thought maybe if I spent more time with him I could help him gain more confidence, but I guess it didn't work out."
I felt my blood begin to boil, fighting back tears. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.
I lost it.
"Mordecai...is one of the best people you'll ever meet! He gave his heart to you, trusting you, so that he could be there for you in a better way than a typical jerk off. How can you just throw that away when he doesn't deserve that heartbreak. He didn't do anything wrong!" I said through clenched teeth, my paws clenching the table with a death-grip.
She looked alarmed. "Rigby, don't, not here..."
"No! I don't care!" I yelled, and drew the attention of the other customers, their heads turning toward our table. "He'll forgive you, he'll work on his confidence. I'll even help him. I'll-" I broke at that point, crying softly, turning my head down-ward,. I shamefully blinked back the hot tears.
What a loser I am.
When I looked back up, I expected Margaret to be glaring at me. Instead, to my shock, she almost looked...sympathetic. "This isn't about me anymore, is it Rigby?"
I looked away, ashamed. I couldn't tell her, not like this. Though I didn't want to admit it, the dam inside me was breaking.
"I guess not."
The robin leaned in, taking a wing and placing it on my paw. Surprisingly, I didn't retract, and let her keep it there. Through blurry eyes I realized that there was a new Color in Margaret's heart: a bright pink, contrasting with the purples. The greens were fading, barely visible.
"Say it," she said simply, her gaze fixed on me. She knew.
"Say what?" I mumbled, looking away. My tail was twitching wildly now.
"Say it Rigby."
I looked back at her. "Fine, I love Mordecai. I've loved him for years, I don't care if it's gay, or wrong, or whatever. It's the truth," I breathed, wiping my eyes with the back of my paw. "It doesn't matter though, he loves you and I want to give him what he wants. He wants you."
She sighed, but a sad smile creeped onto her face. "Is that what YOU want?"
I shook my head sadly. "No, but I think it's what's right. I've been really selfish all my life, and I feel like this could redeem...some of it."
Margaret shifted in her chair and looked me in the eye again. "Rigby, maybe it's time for you to stop living for Mordecai and start living for yourself."
My ears perked at the word time, and suddenly I was having flashbacks of Father's Time void. I remembered what he had said to me.
Time has a way of working its own magic.
It was starting to make sense in a weird way. Maybe...Margaret had a point. Maybe I had never really looked for my own happiness. Despite this, I shook my head. "I do know I'd like Mordecai to like me back, but it isn't going to happen. He doesn't see me like that, and I can't ruin what he have left."
She rubbed my hand with her wing, and it was oddly comforting. "So what if he doesn't? I mean really Rigby, give yourself a little credit. There's other people out there and Mordecai will always be special to you, and I know he feels the same way."
I sighed. "It's just so hard to see him like this."
She nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry I caused it, but there's only so much you can do for him, Rigby. All you can really do is keep being there for him; he'll have to find a way to cope and pull himself back up. You can't do it for him."
I would never stop being there for Mordecai, ever.
"Tell you what," she continued. "Would you like me to have a talk with him? Maybe if he had some closure he could figure this whole thing out in a lot less pain."
For the first time in months, my heart actually felt hope. It was strong. "Thanks Margaret."
"I'll come by sometime tomorrow afternoon, after my shift," she said, smiling.
I nodded in approval, already wishing it was tomorrow. We both got up and headed to the front.
"You know, Rigby, you're really cute. I mean that. Mordecai's lucky."
I actually grinned, a pure grin, blushing softly. "Save it for tomorrow."
She laughed softly and we went our separate ways. Maybe Margaret wasn't as bad as I thought she was. Maybe behind all the looks and flirts, she was a good person.
I still felt like there was a lot more to be said, and done, but I felt like things were connecting. I couldn't hurt anymore; I had to keep it going.
"Have you been in bed all day?" Rigby asked, walking into the room. He had been out for a couple hours. Maybe Benson had gotten ahold of him.
I switched off my headphones and placed them on my dresser, sitting up. "Yeah, I think I'm sick."
Sick of my life maybe.
Rigby had a big goofy smile on his face despite my obvious lack of energy, which was weird, because smiling wasn't really our thing anymore. I didn't want to admit it, but it made me happy to see him more like himself. The anger in me had died down some.
"You better not be sick tomorrow, Mordecai, because there's someone coming to see you." He grinned at this, like he had this amazing secret.
I groaned. I didn't want a visitor. "My dad called, didn't he? He probably wants me to move back in, that crazy-"
"No, you idiot, it's not your dad. You'll just have to wait until tomorrow, kay?" He laughed to himself and I shook my head.
"You're insane Rigby. Seriously."
He laughed again. "Probably." Suddenly he walked over to my bed and stared at me. Just when I was about to tell him off, he hugged my torso, his fur warm.
"Gross," I groaned. "Are you sure you're the real Rigby? Hugs, seriously?"
Thanks Rigby.
As I hugged Mordecai, I glanced down, and saw that his core was starting to glow again. It wasn't bright, but it was there. I smiled.
As mushy as a moral in an episode of Full House, I swear (sorry younger readers if you don't get that reference). In every stormy sky there is an eventual break, and the sun comes out.
See you next time!
