Yes. The Return of the Comeback of the Revenge. That's about how many times I've made my reappearance. And to be honest, I don't know if this is really even a comeback. I just know I promised this story, and super late or not I'm posting it.

This is a Gibson/Mandarin friendship thing requested by Argonautica Brown. Hope it's worth your long wait, amiga.

Rolling!

Pruning

The sun beat down mercilessly on one of the few jungles strong enough to populate Shuggazoom's Zone of Wasted Years, turning the already steamy locale into a verdant sauna. The few birds that left their nests sang half-hearted, melancholy tunes and most animals fought tooth and nail for what little shade was available. Only two creatures seemed unfazed by the heat: an orange and a blue monkey.

Well, the orange simian was unfazed. The blue primate looked rather nonplussed.

Squish!

"Disgusting. Sometimes one can forget how unsanitary the rest of Shuggazoom is when one confines oneself to the Metropolis and the Super Robot." Gibson leaned against a tree and was about to inspect the bottom of his foot when a sharp voice barked out.

"There is no time for that, Gibson. We must keep moving." With a sigh, Gibson moved away from the tree and followed after the voice.

"But of course, Mandarin. How foolish of me to be concerned about my foot." Gibson's words were laced with sarcasm, but he had to admit he probably didn't want to know what he had stepped in anyway.

And so the blue monkey trailed after his orange leader, just as he had been doing for the past two hours. It had been that way since Mandarin had first approached him in the Super Robot and ordered Gibson to come with him.

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"Come on, Brain Strain! It's no fun beating you all the time."

Gibson and Sprx were sparring in the Super Robot's training room, a rare occurrence considering neither of the two brothers was very passionate about combat. But Mandarin was adamant that all members of the Hyperforce keep their combat skills sharp. If that meant the orange monkey had to drag his subordinates into the training room by their tails and monitor their progress, then he would.

And he had.

"Gibson! Get up and fight back," Mandarin's order echoed over the intercom. "You won't win any battles lying down!"

"Sorry if I'm boring you, Sprx," said Gibson as he pulled himself off the floor. "It's difficult to keep up with your short attention span." Sprx let out a chuckle, his trademarked smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, it's not that it's not fun to beat you soundly. It's just that, well, you could at least try to hit me."

Gibson growled with rage at this, launching himself bodily at his crimson brother. But the attack was clumsy and Sprx easily sidestepped it. As the blue monkey stumbled past, Sprx snaked his tail around his opponent's legs and brought him crashing to the floor. Before Gibson could get off the ground, Sprx was upon him. The red simian sat down on his brother's back, effectively pinning him to the ground.

"Well, you may be a pretty lousy fighter, but you've got quite a bright future as a chair." Gibson let out an outraged snarl.

"I'll tell you what you can go sit on-"

"Enough!" Both brothers looked up simultaneously. Mandarin stood in training room's entrance, arms behind his back and a stern look on his face. Every pore of the orange monkey seemed to ooze disapproval. "Sprx, you're done for the day. Get out of my sight."

Sprx stood up and helped Gibson to his feet before turning to his leader. "What? No helpful tips? No inspirational pep talk?" Mandarin's lip curled.

"Just. Go." The orange primate's words were laced with venom, but Sprx simply smirked.

"Aye, aye!" exclaimed the red monkey. Sprx added a mock salute before he made his way out of the room. Sighing, Mandarin shook his head and turned his gaze to Gibson, who was brushing himself off.

"As for you, Gibson…follow me." Without waiting for a reply, Mandarin turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Running his hand down his face in exasperation, Gibson followed after his orange superior.

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And so here they were two hours later, and Gibson still had no idea what Mandarin was up to. All the blue monkey knew was that he was hot, tired, and had something sticky and itchy occupying the bottom of his foot.

"Mandarin, would you please elucidate on what it is we're doing out here?" asked Gibson, frustration palpable in the blue simian's voice. "I have had to pass up the opportunity to study no less than seven rare plant specimens on this hike, and I would like to know that there's a reason for squandering such opportunities."

"Unnecessary chatter will only add to your discomfort, Gibson." The blue monkey sighed and rubbed his temples. It was the response Mandarin had unerringly used each time Gibson had asked a question. And each time it grated a little more at the stressed simian's nerves.

Why can't the ground just swallow him up and rid me of this hell? Gibson thought as he stared venomously at the back of his tormentor's head. Suddenly, as if brought on by the blue primate's thoughts, a low rumble emanated from the ground. The simian pair froze in their tracks.

CHHHHRRRRRMMMM!

The ground cracked and gave way beneath Mandarin. The orange monkey barely had time to glance back at Gibson and let out a startled screech before he vanished underground.

"Mandarin!" Gibson sprinted to the spot where his teammate had just been. Carefully leaning over the edge, Gibson called out again. "Mandarin! Can you hear me?" The only response was the echoing of Gibson's voice. Worried, the blue monkey activated his helmet light and leaned out further over the hole. Shining his light down into the darkness, Gibson discovered that the hole was much deeper than he had first suspected.

Perhaps Mandarin was knocked unconscious from the fall, Gibson thought. The blue simian scanned his surrounding, searching for some way to get safely down the hole. Maybe a vine or something similar. But Mother Nature had a much more streamlined plan.

CHHHCCKKK!

Gibson looked down as the ground gave out underneath him.

"Monkey Doodle."

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Gibson awoke to find himself in pitch-black darkness. Which was probably a good thing, because the blue monkey had a pounding headache.

"Uagh," moaned Gibson as he reached up to rub his aching cranium. The blue monkey froze when he felt the large rock protruding from his head. Gingerly, Gibson pulled the offending object out, and was greeted with the sound of broken glass. Sighing, Gibson carefully touched his helmet light. It was as he feared: the light was shattered. Groaning, the blue simian pulled himself to his feet.

"Well, silver lining in all this," Gibson muttered to himself as he gazed at the rock in his hand, "at least you impaled my light and not my brain. So, thanks." Tossing the rock away, Gibson attempted to get his bearings; not that it did him much good. Far above him, Gibson could make out light coming from the hole he had fallen through. Other than that, the blue simian was in the dark. Literally.

"Geologically speaking, having two cave-ins in the same section in such a small time interval is statistically inconceivable. Then again," Gibson touched his helmet light, "this really hasn't been my day." With a sigh, Gibson cracked his back and leaned against the wall.

"My first priority should be shedding some light on my situation. I'm no good to Mandarin or myself fumbling about in the dark like this." A sudden smell wafted through the air, catching Gibson's attention.

"That smells like…" Gibson's words trailed off as he began blindly feeling along the wall. A smile slowly spread across the monkey's face when he found what he was searching for. "Finally, something goes my way today." Tenderly, almost lovingly, Gibson ran his hand along the source of his good mood: a root.

"Prunus spinosa," Gibson said. "More commonly known as blackthorn." Pulling out his drills, Gibson went to work on removing the root. "Known to gardeners and farmers for its plums." Gibson put away his drills and began tugging at the root. "It is known to campers and woodsmen for a different reason." Grunting, Gibson gave the root a mighty tug and was rewarded with a loud crack as the object came free from its earthy prison. Smiling grimly, the primate put the large root on the ground and pulled out his drills again. Revving them up, Gibson ground the drills together until sparks began to fly. Holding the sparking drills close to the root, Gibson kept grinding until the root caught on fire. With a satisfied smile, Gibson picked up his makeshift torch.

"Campers and woodsmen know blackthorn because it burns slowly and brilliantly. There's something to be said for respecting the classics." Holding the torch up, Gibson was finally able to view his surroundings. The blue monkey was shocked to find that he was not in a pit, but rather a large underground tunnel. The tunnel itself was large enough for Gibson to stand up comfortably in, and the hole he had fallen through appeared to be some sort of air pocket. But Gibson had no time to enjoy the geological marvel. He was too preoccupied with what he didn't see.

"Mandarin!" Gibson looked all around, but it was to no avail. The orange monkey was nowhere to be found. Sighing, Gibson lowered his head and the torch in defeat. "Monkey Doodle, this is bad."

As Gibson stared at the ground, something caught his eye. "Well, well. What do we have here?" A wide groove ran off down the tunnel to Gibson's right. Wide enough to have been left by a monkey being dragged off.

"I can't tell if things just got better or worse," Gibson muttered to himself as he followed the groove deeper into the tunnel.

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Ten minutes of walking brought Gibson to the end of the tunnel, which opened into a vast inner chamber. What the blue monkey saw made his heart stop.

"I retract my prior statement," Gibson whispered. "Things just got worse."

Occupying the chamber was the largest plant Gibson had ever seen. The center of the plant was easily thirty feet high and had what appeared to be a head. The "head" was at least twice as big as Gibson, with green and purple stripes and rows of…teeth. Stretching out from the "body" of the plant were dozens upon dozens of squirming tentacle-like vines of varying sizes. At regular intervals along each vine there were large pods containing some type of liquid. Some of the vines simply lay around the chamber, but most snaked out through the multitude of tunnels that stemmed from the chamber. Gibson swallowed a rather large lump that had formed in his throat.

"Toxicodendron muscipula," Gibson breathed as he pressed himself against the tunnel wall. "The Shuggazoom Creeper." Taking a measured breath, Gibson peaked out from the tunnel.

"If I remember my research correctly, and I always do, then those pods contain a paralyzing toxin. This must be what got Mandarin." Gibson's first thought was to call the rest of the Hyperforce for backup, but he quickly put an end to that train of thought. He was well out of communications range, and it was unlikely the message could be transmitted from his current location regardless. For better or worse, the blue monkey was flying solo.

Scanning the chamber again, Gibson searched for any sign of his orange comrade. He could spot no trace of the other monkey, which left only one place Mandarin could be.

No plant is going to eat my teammate as long as I'm here. Crying out in challenge, Gibson pulled out one of his drills and sprinted at the plant with his torch held high. The would-be savior had gone no more than five steps before a vine shot out and smacked him across the face, which sent Gibson crashing into the chamber wall.

"Oof!" Shaking himself out of his daze, Gibson barely had enough time to dodge as the plant's toxin splattered against the wall. Dodging snapping vines and flying toxin, Gibson desperately tried to come up with a plan.

Weaknesses, weaknesses! Come on, Gibson, think! Yikes! The blue monkey ducked under another splash of the plant's toxin. Blasted toxin! Wait-That's it! Gibson leapt over a sweeping vine, a smile spreading across his face. The toxin is manufactured and kept in the vines because it is dangerous to the plant itself! Rolling under a vine attempting to clothesline him, Gibson formulated a plan.

If I can inject some of the toxin into the plant's "head," I can kill the blasted thing! Gibson dove over two vines and swung under a third. Of course, that won't be easy while the abomination's attention is focused solely on me. I need a distraction. Gibson looked at the torch in his hand. Bingo!

Grabbing the next vine that took a swing at him with his legs, Gibson took the torch in both hands and drove it forcefully into one of the toxin pods. An unearthly screech issued from the plant as the fire rapidly spread down the vine. The vine went into spasms, sending Gibson flying into the cavern wall.

"A thousands pardons if I seem forward, madam," Gibson muttered as he pulled himself off the ground, rubbing his aching head. "But I do believe you have the hots for me." The Creeper screeched again as the fire spread rapidly to its other vines. Smoke was spreading quickly through the cavern, lowering visibility and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Grunting, Gibson latched on to one of the few vines untouched by the fire.

"Now this is going to hurt me a lot more than it will hurt you," muttered Gibson as he stuck one of his drills in a toxin pod and sucked up the liquid. Some of the offending toxin splashed out of the pod and hit Gibson's chest. The blue monkey winced as he felt his stomach go numb. "Told you so."

Gibson fell off the vine and hit the ground hard. Rising to his feet was difficult, but he had little choice. Between the smoke, splashing toxin, and the splaying limbs, Gibson could barely see. But he could make out the form of the plant's head above him, and that was all he needed. Positioning himself, Gibson activated his rocket pack and shot towards his target. When he was almost upon the plant, the blue monkey pulled out his other drill and used it to anchor himself to the plant's head. The plant shook violently, but it couldn't dislodge the blue pest. Smiling grimly, Gibson readied his other drill.

"Now this, on the other hand, is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me," growled Gibson. With a roar of defiance, Gibson plunged the toxin-laden drill deep into the plant and injected the toxin. The plant shrieked in agony and went into pain-induced spasms. Gibson's heart skipped a beat as he felt his drill, along with a sizable chunk of the plant, break loose from the head. With a shocked screech Gibson fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud!

"I stand corrected," groaned Gibson. "That hurt quite a bit." The blue monkey attempted to rise, but found he was unable to move. Indeed, Gibson realized with a growing sense of dread, he was unable to feel his back or his legs.

Did I break my neck? Gibson quickly dismissed the notion. He could still feel his arms and parts of his stomach. Lifting his head, Gibson discovered the source of his paralysis: he had fallen into a puddle of toxin.

"Fantastic," Gibson managed to utter between coughs. The cavern was now filled with smoke, and the tunnels, most of which were clogged with flaming vines, weren't venting out nearly enough off the obtrusive gas. Laying his head back on the ground, Gibson felt himself begin to lose consciousness. Turning his head to the side, the paralyzed victor cast one more glance at the burning plant.

"I'm sorry, Mandarin," Gibson whispered before falling off into oblivion.

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Everything hurt. Everything burned. Pain was alpha and omega in the dreamless dark Gibson found himself in. But you couldn't feel pain when you were dead, could you?

Some unknowable time later, Gibson opened his eyes. He was shocked to find himself not in a smoking cavern, but rather in the safety of his medical lab. A sudden voice caused Gibson to look to his right.

"Ah, so you finally wake up." Gibson was equal parts relieved and stunned to find that the voice belonged to Mandarin. The orange monkey was sitting next to Gibson's bed, a small smile on his face.

"I must be dead if you're smiling," Gibson managed through a dry throat. Mandarin chuckled and handed the blue monkey a glass of water.

"Drink." Gibson did as he was told, and immediately felt better for it.

"I don't understand," said Gibson as he handed the glass back to Mandarin. "You should be dead. I should be dead."

"Correction, you would be dead," Mandarin said as he put the glass down. "I saved you."

"What?" asked Gibson, now thoroughly confused. "How? You were trapped inside the Creeper!" Mandarin shook his head emphatically.

"Inaccurate. You assumed I was trapped, just as I wanted you to."

"I…huh?" Gibson was now completely lost, which only made his pounding headache that much more unbearable. Mandarin sighed.

"I purposely made it appear that I'd been taken by the creeper. I wanted to see how you'd go about rescuing me. And by and large you did not disappoint." Gibson rubbed his head, trying to makes sense of it all.

"You…you tricked me?"

"I did," Mandarin stated simply. Gibson snarled.

"I could have died," exclaimed an enraged Gibson.

"You were never in any real danger," Mandarin said, ignoring the blue monkey's rising temper. "I was watching from one of the tunnels the entire time. And I was quite pleased with what I saw."

"I don't care how pleased you are," yelled Gibson, refusing to be placated. "What possible reason could you have to justify putting me through that?"

"I needed to teach you a lesson." Gibson's mouth hung open in disbelief, and it was all he could do not to strangle the orange offender sitting calmly in front of him.

"A…A lesson! You must be joking!"

"I never joke, Gibson," Mandarin stated matter-of-factly. "You had to learn to use a fighting style that is right for you, and this was the only way to do that."

"Fighting style? What on earth are you talking about?"

"No member of the Hyperforce fights the same way, Gibson," Mandarin explained. "Antauri relies heavily on the Power Primate, while Nova trusts in her innate ability as a warrior."

"Yes, yes. Those two are obvious," Gibson said with a wave of his hand. "But what about Otto and Sprx? They aren't what I would classify as strong fighters. And they didn't have to fight the deadliest plant on Shuggazoom."

"Agreed," said Mandarin. "But they don't attempt to be strong fighters. They use strategies more catered to their abilities. Otto is, of course, a wild card. He's never quite sure what he's going to do next, so there's no way his opponent can predict his movements either. Sprx, as you learned today, employs a more psychological approach. He taunts you; gets in your head. He makes you come at him angry and stupid, and then he uses it to his advantage."

"And what about you?" asked Gibson, his anger fading as his interest in the conversation grew.

"I'm me." Oddly, Gibson didn't need Mandarin to explain what he meant by that. "But what's most important is that you know what strategy to use. So tell me, Gibson. What did you learn today?"

Ignoring the parental tone Mandarin had adopted, Gibson recalled the day's events. "I was much more effective when I analyzed the situation and formulated a plan. Charging in headfirst never worked for me."

"Exactly," agreed Mandarin, the smile returning to the orange monkey's face. "You are the smartest member of the team, Gibson. Not the wisest or the toughest, but you can figure out just about any situation that gets thrown your way. Remember that, Gibson. Your strength lies not in your physical attributes, but rather your ability to know your opponent's weakness, and exploit it."

"Only you can give somebody a compliment that also serves as a viable insult, Mandarin," said a smiling Gibson.

"That is where my strength lies." Gibson cocked an eyeridge.

"I thought you didn't joke."

"I don't," replied Mandarin, prompting an amused snort from Gibson. The pair sat in silence for several minutes before Mandarin finally stood up and turned around. "Well, get some rest, Gibson. You have patrol first thing in the morning."

"Wait," exclaimed Gibson as he grabbed Mandarin by the arm. "Why did you go to such extreme measures? Why not just tell me?"

Sighing, Mandarin pulled his arm away from the blue monkeys grasp. Leaning forwards against the chair, Mandarin didn't look at Gibson as he responded.

"It's because I care." Gibson was caught off guard.

"Pardon me?" Mandarin turned around, and Gibson was shocked to see emotion, real emotion, in Mandarin's eyes.

"It's because I care, Gibson. I know I'm cold and calculating; ruthless, even. I know my methods are often extreme, but we face extreme circumstances. We are facing the greatest evil the galaxy has ever known, and that means there's no time to pull punches. The truth is I push this hard because I care about you; all of you." Gibson swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I-I see."

"You are all the closest friends I have, and I could not ask for better ones. Honestly, this team, my team, is more like family than friends to me." Mandarin, who had been staring off into space during the conversation, suddenly looked Gibson in the eye. "You may question my methods, Gibson. That is only fair. But never question that I love all of you dearly. That I will not tolerate." There was a moment of silence, where all Gibson could do was nod.

"So…is Sprx included in that?" asked a suddenly smirking Gibson.

"Well, loving four out of five of you isn't bad," replied Mandarin, the small smile returning to his face. The sound of the Med Bay door opening caused the pair to turn around. In the doorway stood a visibly agitated Sprx and the always serene Antauri.

"Hey, Antauri. Remember the time we got back from our patrol to find Gibson in the Med Bay?" asked Sprx, his voice laced with sarcasm. "That was a lot of fun."

Sighing, Mandarin nodded to Gibson and then made his way towards the door, only to find his way blocked by Antauri's outstretched arm.

"What happened to Gibson, Mandarin?" Antauri's voice was calm and collected, as usual. However, Mandarin simply ignored the black monkey and moved his arm out of the way. Sprx snorted as the door shut behind Mandarin, and then turned his attention to Antauri.

"Wonderful conservationist, that one. Truly an artist with the spoken word."

"What happened, Gibson?" asked Antauri, the concern in his voice not quite able to hide his amusement at Sprx's comment. "Why are you in Med Bay? What did Mandarin make you do?"

"Not much," replied Gibson. The blue monkey leaned back into his bed and closed his eye. "Just a little pruning."

Well, there you have it. Triumphant return, or floundering reappearance? It's up to you guys, really. Personally, I liked how this turned out.

Brown, I hoped you enjoyed it. This was all for you, Ms. Canada.

So, here's my plan for the future of this compilation. I've got several story ideas planned:

Sprx/Alchemist (Family)

Gibova (Romance)

Otto/Mandarin (Friendship)

…shoot. There was a fourth, but I forgot.

After that…it's up to you, dear readers. This compilation will largely be powered by requests. You want to see a pairing, you let me know. I'll do what's within my power to make it happen.

M'wah! Good Night, Everybody!

Save Season 5!