Disclaimer: The characters used in this story are copyrighted to Dreamworks Pictures, Michael Fry and T. Lewis, and not me. I own this plot, and the characters of Xylia, Tristan, Sadie, Doyle, Amity, Cyril, Dorian, Val, and various other invented characters. I am making no profit off of this operation. It's just my way of dealing with overactive plot bunnies.
Chapter One- New Developments
The three members of the Morris family household had just sat down to dinner and their conversation could be heard through the cracks in the dog door that led to the garage, where a mischevious raccoon could be found, listening in, awaiting the moment when Mrs. Morris would be depositing the dinner scraps in Ol' Scruffy's dog dish here in the garage. Scruffy, however, would be sadly disappointed as he had been for many nights since this game had become a nighttime ritual for the little brownish-furred raccoon.
All in an honest night's work, RJ grinned to himself, settled atop some old packing crates that sat in plain sight of the door and close enough to hear every word spoken at the dinner table.
"They're expanding into that wooded area, you know," Mr. Morris said, through a mouthful of food. RJ's entire body suddenly tensed up. "They start tearing down trees at the end of the week."
"Oh, just what we need- more houses that look exactly the same and more nosey neighbors. At least we got rid of that awful Gladys, though," Mrs. Morris replied.
"She was a real piece of work, that one."
"I heard she got quite a sentence for using that illegal animal trap."
"Serves her right."
RJ leaned further off his perch, straining to catch every word. What about the wooded area? His mind raced back to what Mr. Morris had said at first, knowing full-well that was where he and his new family were currently living. If that was destroyed, they'd be rendered completely homeless and he didn't need that to happen... Not after he'd spent two months adapting and finding his niche here in this little Suburban paradise. There wasn't much he could do about it, however. When humans put their mind to something that would expand their own insufferable greed, they usually did it.
The Morris'ten-year-old daughter spoke up. "They're really going to destroy the woods? Don't animals live there?"
"No duh, Sherlock"RJ muttered.
"Well, of course, sweetie," her mother answered her.
"Won't the animals' homes get destroyed?"
"This kid has a brilliant career in rocket science," RJ responded, rolling his steely blue eyes.
Mrs. Morris paused for a long time, and it was easy to tell without seeing her face that she was obviously struggling to find an answer that wouldn't traumatize the poor kid. "...Yes," she finally said, as if she were tasting it.
Without missing a beat, the girl went on, "Where will they live then?"
"They'll just find new homes, darling," Mrs. Morris answered, equally as fast. She then added, as a quick change of subject, "Rolls, dear?"
RJ slunk down from his perch, no longer feeling up to table scraps. "Easy for you to say, lady," he sighed discontentedly. He took a brief glance at Scruffy's bowl and then looked to the old Scottish terrier that did nothing but sleep all day, making him the perfect target forthe raccoon'sthievery, lying- surprise, surprise-fast asleep on the tarmac. "You win tonight, Scruffy."
If the dog heard, he showed no sign of it.
RJ passed through the hedge and was greeted by Hammy, who attacked his waist so suddenly that the small raccoon fell over in shock. "What'dja bring me?" The hyperactive squirrel giggled.
"Not really in the mood, Hammy," RJ replied with a slightly aggravated tone. Hammy instantly backed off, but hopped energetically from one foot to the other while the raccoon regained his composure.
"What happened out there, huh? Huh?" Hammy asked eagerly as if he were begging for treats.
"Where's Verne?" RJ asked, completely avoiding Hammy's question. If anyone needed to know this first, it was Verne. He was still (sort of) the leader of this faction, after all.
"In the log. What happened?" Hammy said, still bouncing about madly.
"I'll tell you later," RJ waved him off and Hammy suddenly stopped hopping, his tiny ears drooping.
"'Kay," he said, somewhat sullenly. RJ hated to shoot the kid down like that, but he had more important things to do than cater to Hammy's hyperactive tendencies.
He found Verne a few moments laterinside the log, just as Hammy said, taking note of their stock of food for the winter. He had to smile at that. Verne was so meticulous it bordered on being farsical (if not a little bit OCD), so every habit he had was considered comedic entertainment... For RJ, at least. The raccoon rested onepaw casually on the log and leaned on it, still smirking in a smug way. "How many days until hibernation now, Verne?"
"Two hundred and thirteen," Verne replied without missing a beat.
RJ whistled. "That is a long time."
"Not long enough; we're still behind." Verne turned to face RJ, looking skeptically at his raccoon friend. "Something on your mind?"
RJ forced a fake smile. "And what would give you that idea, Verney?"
"Verne," Verne corrected, "not Verney, and I know you better than that. If something wasn't wrong you would have come up with a better answer than 'That is a long time.'"
"Maybe my quips are rusty," RJ shrugged, but plopped down on the grass anyway, allowing his cheerful facade to melt away. Verne sat down beside him, ready to hear what was obviously bad news. "The thing is, the humans are planning on building more houses."
Verne shrugged. "I figured you'd be happy about that. More houses equals more people to steal from."
"No, you don't understand," RJ said, gesticulating to the ground. "They're going to build on this spot."
This took a moment for Verne to process, and when it finally hit him the only words that came out of his mouth were, "This very spot."
"This... Very... Spot."
"Even the log?"
"Especially the log."
"When?"
"End of this week."
Reality suddenly smacked Verne in the face and he was able to better process how grave the situation at hand was. However, his common sense wasn't yet fuelling his capibility for pertinent speech. He gestured wildly to the log with its collection of winter food piling up inside of it in protest of the situation. "What about all the food we've gathered?"
RJ flopped onto his back, staring up at the night sky, ignoring how infuriating it was that Verne's first instinct was to think of the food and not their individual lives. "Gone." He raised a single paw and waved it dramatically in circles in the air above him. "Gone with the wind." His arm fell limply across his eyes in the fashion of an over-dramatic prima donna and he let out a theatrical sigh. "And frankly, my dear Scarlett, I do give a-"
"Wait!" Verne snapped, jerking RJ back to sitting position. "You're the idea guy! You're supposed to know how to deal with these kinds of situations."
RJ gently removed Verne's scaly hands from his shoulders. "Normally I would have an excellent idea, because normally I'm always thinking five steps ahead of any possible danger, but this thing crept up on me and beat me severely over the head in a painfully metaphorical way. I didn't know what hit me! Heck, I still don't."
"So am I supposed to tell everyone that at the end of this week we'reallhomeless and/or dead?" Verne snapped.
"No, I fully intend to come up with something... But what?" RJ pounded his head with a tiny fist. "Think, RJ, think. Use that fantastical mind of yours and figure something out!"
"It'd probably be easier just find a new place to live, rather than wait for you to figure out a plan this late in the game," Verne muttered.
A lightbulb suddenly came on in RJ's head (accented by the appearance of a conveinently placed lightning bug). "Verne, that idea may just be crazy enough to work!"
"Huh?"
This time RJ grabbed Verne's shoulders and shook him a little. "We relocate!"
"RJ, I don't think-"
"Shhhh," RJ mimed "shut up" with his paw and Verne reluctantly quieted. "The fact is there's better places out there than Suburbia. I'm talking the same type scenario with more of the Great Outdoors to enjoy." He started listing, punctuating each word by forcing Verne to sink deeper into his shell until RJ's head was nearly inside of it along with the turtle. "Campgrounds, Rest Stops, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera."
"Sounds interesting," Verne said dryly, his voice echoing from within the shell.
RJ stepped back, allowing Verne to push his head back up, and braced himself for the coup de gracie of his latest scheme. "And surrounding these places is acres and acres of untapped woodland where you don't even have to look at a human if you don't want to."
"RJ, that's all well and good, but you can't expect us to walk all the way there, do you? You have to think of Lou and Penny's little ones. They couldn't travel such a long distance by foot."
"Who said anything about walking?" RJ laughed. "In case you haven't noticed the heat and humidity, it's summer right now, and do you know what that means?"
"We only have one more season to go before winter?"
"No! It means the humans are going on vacation, and when humans go on vacation in the summer, it usually involves camping in the woods somewhere. All we have to do is hitch a ride with someone heading towards the forest, and bada-bing, bada-boom! We're in paradise!"
"This all sounds a little... farfetched, and I don't know if I want to risk the family's life on an idea you came up with in two seconds."
"Aw, Verne, all the great plans hit their creators quickly. If they came slowly, no one would ever get anything done, 'cause they'd all be sitting around waiting for plans to formulate... You see?"
Verne thought about it long and hard. "Not really."
RJ shrugged. "That's why I'm the idea guy. Now, come on! We've gotta run this by everyone else." He took off running, leaving Verne standing dumbfounded at his retreating form. He sighed and shook his head. "I have a bad feeling that this is going to end badly for everyone involved."
For some reason, however, he followed RJ anyway.
RJ held his meeting in what was now known as the cul de sac, where all their stolen goodies resided. The small raccoon stood on top of his bag, holding a miniture golf club clutched in his tinypaws like a pointer, and surveyed his motely crew or, as they were more commonly known, his family. In two months, nothing had really changed about them, with the exception of Stella's newfound self-confidence brought about by her relationship with Tiger who had joined the family as well (seeing as he had nowhere else to go with his home a smoking crater and his mistress in jail). Tiger had proven himself a worthy emmisary to the family's cause, however,since he could easily get into places the other animals wouldn't dream of going for fear of a repeat of the Verminator incident. For the most part, however, everything else had remained blissfully the same.
...And all that was soon to change.
"Guys, I have good news and bad news."
Hammy raised his paw and began to wave it about violently. RJ sighed, rolled his eyes, and pointed to him with the golf club. "Yes, Hammy."
"What's the good news?" The little squirrel asked excitedly.
"I'll get to that in a minute. First, it's important to know-" RJ stopped as Hammy's paw shot up again. "Hammy?"
"Is it cookies?"
RJ fought to control his temper, although he twitched a little, showing obvious signs that he was mere seconds from losing it. He adored that little nutjob of a squirrel, but Hammy could be so infuriating at times that he almost wished he could be completely sane for just for a hour. At least then he'd be able to get his plan out in the open without mindless distraction. He breathed deeply and held his palms out in front of him in a calming motion. "No, Hammy," he said sardonically, "it's not cookies."
"But I like the cookie," Hammy pouted.
"I know," RJ said with a forced smile on his face. "And you know what? If you let me finish what I have to say with no more interruptions, I will find you the biggest box of cookies known to humankind and have it hand-delivered to you by a bunch of beautiful she-squirrels, who will then hand-feed them to you while fanning you with peacock feathers." Hammy's eyes lit up at that suggestion and he quickly mimed zipping his mouth shut and stared straight head with a silly grin on his face. Satisfied, RJ tapped the golf club on his palm, trying to regain his train of thought. "Where was I?"
"Good and news and bad news there, RJ," Lou replied.
"Thank you, Lou," the raccoon responded. He cleared his throat and started again. "The bad news is that at the end of this week our little community here;" he made a circle in the air with one finger, shoving the golf club behind his back like a drill sergeant often holds his riding crop, "will be completely wiped off the map." Everyone, aside from Verne, who had already allowed the shock to set it, and, obviously, RJ gasped. "We're standing on a choice piece of property that will soon merge into Suburbia and make us very much homeless, and if we don't act now we'll be very much dead as well as homeless."
"Jeepers," Penny breathed, at a loss for words.
"Humans," Tiger scoffed. "They think they own everything."
"Well, they sorta do," RJ shrugged. "They are the dominant species."
"But this is, like, our home!" Heather protested. "They just can't..."She paused, grasping at straws to find something decent to add to that, but failed and went on anyway. "...Like, do that to us."
"You're right, Heather," Ozzie said, grasping his daughter by the shoulders with one arm and gesturing dramatically with the other. "We'll go straight to the government and protest these atrocities!"
There was a long period of silence and the part of RJ's mask that gave some vauge semblence of an eyebrow shot up. "And how would we go about doing that, Oz?"
Ozzie looked at him as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "We play dead, and in doing so we garner enough sympathy to rally the humans to our cause and put them completely against taking this place away from us."
"That's... Not actually a bad idea there," Lou spoke up since RJ was obviously too dumbfounded to reply.
"Yeah, I like that idea," Penny agreed with her husband, nodding.
"I don't wanna play dead!" Spike whined.
RJ shook himself out of his shock. "No one is going to play dead. Don't you get it? Humans, with the exception of a few extremist groups who no one ever takes seriously, don't care about us. Everything is all about them."
"So what do you suggest we do?" Stella spoke up, planting her paws firmly on her hips. "This has been our home for as long as I can remember. You can't expect us to just sit here and let them take it from us?"
"They've done it before, Stella. May I draw your attention to the hedge?" RJ gesticulated with his golf club to the general direction where the hedge lay. "They snuck up on you and took that part of your forest while you were sleeping. You guys got lucky they left this part of your home alone until you were awake, because if you're fully cognizant, you can formulate a plan, and my fantastical brain has done that part for you."
Verne rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead. "Here we go."
"Before I tell you the good news and my plan, I'd like to make a little literary allusion. Any of your ever read a book called Watership Down?" There was a mixed response from the other animals that mostly amounted to pretty much a general concensus of "no." RJ scratched the back of his head with his golf club and rolled his eyes nonchalantly. He hadn't really figured they'd read it anyway. "I'll steal it for you sometime. It's a book everyone should read. That Richard Adams was a human who knew how to get into an animal's skull, I tell you. Anyway, the story goes like this. There's these rabbits who have a warren on this farmland that's scheduled to be plowed under. A group of them hear about the danger and flee to find a new home, facing many trials and tribulations along the way until they find a virtual paradise. That, my friends, is what I expect us to do."
"...But we're, like, not rabbits," Heather said, after a long pause.
"It's not about the rabbits!" RJ said, gesturing wildly. "It's about finding something even better than this. I've been around the block a few times and while Suburbia is grand, it can only last so long. We can't spend our life living in a hedge while the humans continue to overpopulate the area. It's time we migrated and I know just the place." He tugged a brochere out of his golf bag- much to Verne's surprise because the raccoon hadn't mentioned this before now-and tossed it to the ground in front of the other animals.
"Silver Springs Campground and Wildlife Preserve," Verne read allowed from the brightly colored text that was blazened on the cover of the brochere. Several pictures adorned it as well, depicting beautiful cabins, lush forest land, and animals at play. It painted an idyllic picture, indeed.
"Jeepers," the porcupine triplets said in unison as they stared at the pictures.
"Oh, Tiger, would you look at that," Stella said, clasping the housecat's paws in hers as they huddled together, staring in awe at the pictures.
"It's a masterpiece, my love," Tiger replied.
"It looks like a good place to raise a family, don'tcha know?" Penny said to Lou, smiling brightly. Her husband nodded in agreement.
"Sure does, Penny." He looked down at his three sons and his smile broadened. "It sure does."
"Humans can't hurt us there," RJ continued. "It's a preserve which means we're the majority and they're the minority for once. It's like Suburbia reversed!" He pointed to the cabins. "The humans stay in these during the summer so we can steal just as much food there as we did here, as well as all the nuts and berries and stuff that Verne loves." Verne scoffed a little at this, but RJ continued, pretending not to hear. "Best of all, the cabins are empty in the winter so you have a cozy hibernation spot that's better than any old log."
"Do they have TV?" Quillo piped up.
"Some of the swankier ones might," RJ shrugged. "And I only go for the best for my family."
"Awesome!" The triplets squeaked in unison.
"I still don't know about this," Verne broke in before the mood could get too joyous.
"Has anyone ever told you, Verne, that you're a real buzzkill?" RJ asked dryly.
"No... In fact I'm not even sure what that means," Verne replied. "Look, this sounds great and all, but don't you think it's too good to be true?"
"Tell me, Verne, is this too good to be true?" RJ picked up the brochere and opened it, revealing a large fold out picture of the most beautiful valley Verne had ever seen his entire life. He could almost hear a chorus of angels singing its praises it was so heavenly... For a moment, he almost thought it was glowing with unearthly, holy light.
"It's beautiful," Verne whispered.
RJ folded the brochure shut with one quick movement, and all visions of heavenly lights and choirs of angels vanished. "Then it's settled!" A cheer rang up amongst the animals as they all celebrated their good fortune at finding a new home at such short notice. Verne watched with slight horror. He knew that RJ could be trusted now, but that still wasn't any reason for everyone to jump on every good idea he had without knowing every detail.
"Wait, wait, wait," he said, stopping the celebration on a dime. "I think we need to get a few things straight first."
"Such as?" RJ asked, slightly bemused. Verne hated that look. It was the look that said, "I have an idea for everything, and maybe they just might work."
"Like how are we going to get there?"
"Got that all figured out," RJ smirked. "Our old pal Tiger is going to stake out houses for a couple of nights and find out which family is heading towards our destination before the week's end. We hitch a ride in that family's car and make our way to casa paradisio." RJ pulled a maracca out of his bag and shook it for effect, and the celebration commenced.
Verne knew it was a hopeless case now. RJ had them all wrapped around his finger once again. Over the past two months, he had developed a lot of respect for the small raccoon, but somehow he could never seem to sit back, relax, and allow RJ to take the wheel, because he knew if he let that happen again, something bad would happen to them all. RJ wasn't meticulous or tentativelike he was. He was headstrong, reckless, and never thought about the ramifications of his choices and actions, but somehow he was smart enough to get himself and anyone he dragged along with him out of any sticky situation. Still, he was worried. His tail was tingling again, which it hadn't done in a long time, and he doubted it was completely because of RJ... There was just something about how perfect and conveinent everything had been laid out for them that bothered him. Still, he couldn't rain on their parade seeing as it was either follow RJ's crazy scheme to the end or die. Either way, they would probably wind up dead, but at least with RJ's plan, death was an uncertainty.
"I love you, Ruby."
The male raccoon pressed his nose to hers and they embraced. She was safe here in his arms, inhaling the wonderful aroma of his fur and feeling his heart beat in tune to hers. There was no place she'd rather be than here. She wanted to raise a family with him and live in peace and harmony and never have to worry about the queen and her wolves or Tristan ever again. All she needed was him. Her life could be everything she had ever wanted it to be as long as he was by her side.
"I love you too, Aiden."
Something sticky and wet formed on her paws and she broke away from Aiden, fearfully pulling her own paws towards her and seeing them covered with dark blood. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. She forced herself to look up, afraid of seeing what had become of her beloved but only found herself staring at the bloodstained muzzle of a vicious wolf. To add even more horror to the image, a thick, bushy raccoon's tail dangled from the wolf's jaws, revealing what Ruby feared as the worst possible scenario.
"You killed him, Ruby," the wolf snarled, spitting the blood-stained tail out at her feet. "You killed him."
Only then did she find the strength to scream.
Ruby screamed for several minutes before she realized that she was back in her burrow in the hollow of an oak tree which she shared with her best friend, a turtle named Velma. She swallowed hard, gasping for breath and then stared at her paws, noting that there was no blood on them... At least no literal blood. She clutched her paws to her chest and whimpered softly, unable to shake away the horrible nightmare. It was a nightmare that had come for her many nights, but even so she never expected it. She would believe for that one second that she had her beloved Aiden in her arms again, and then she would be forced to remember the painful truth of what had happened to him.
You killed him, Ruby.
"Aiden," she whispered. "Oh Aiden."
"Ruby?" Velma's voice met her ears. "You okay, sweetie?"
"I-I'm fine, Vel," she said quickly, trying to force herself to stop shaking.
The female turtle looked at her with knowing reptilian green eyes. "Liar."
Ruby glared at her sardonically. "It's nothing."
"A nothing named Aiden," Velma said, her expression grave and sympathetic. Ruby quickly looked away from her. "How long's it been?"
"A year and three months," Ruby replied. "Feels like longer."
"I imagine Sadie feels the same way about Bert."
And Sara will soon feel the same way about Harold, Ruby added bitterly in her thoughts.
"What do you think happened to them?" Velma asked nonchalantly. Ruby winced at the question. Not even her best friend knew her darkest secret. The reason why Sara and Sadie were husbandless now was because she led them to their deaths, and the reason why the love of her life was no longer with her was because the queen forced her hand in order to prove her loyalty to her. Many others had vanished by her doing as well, and they were no less talked about than Bert and Aiden. She always hated it when the talks started, especially when she had to face the families of those she had practically killed if that's the way one wanted to look at it. Sadie was the hardest one to deal with, because she was firmly convinced that Bert was going to waltz back into the valley one day and no one had the heart to tell her otherwise. Some even agreed with her.
"I don't know," Ruby finally replied. "I guess they're dead."
"Yeah," Velma agreed. "I think so too. Though I guess we all can't pin our hopes to the same star Sadie pins hers too. That little opossum has a lot of faith. I suppose we should all be so lucky to have her kind of hope."
Velma may not have known about Ruby's secret, but sometimes the raccoon believed she did due to all the subtle hints she dropped in casual conversation with her friend, but it was probably just the inevitable paranoia speaking. No one had any real clue what was going on with her... All they knew was that she was a lonely little raccoon who was haunted by nightmares of her vanished lover. A lover who never really vanished. Ruby shook away the real memory of that fateful night, knowing that it would only make everything hurt that much worse. Aiden was dead, Bert was dead, Harold was dead. They all were dead and there was nothing anyone could do about it. All Ruby could do was suck it up and pretend it didn't happen until the next time she was called on to bring another one of her friends to the queen's lair.
Velma suddenly stuck her head out of the hollow just as a cool breeze blustered by. "Hey, look, the winds are changing," she said. "Come here, Ruby."
The raccoon did as she was told, poking her head out just above Velma's. The breeze ruffled her fur and suddenly everything that writhed and toiled inside of her little body vanish completely. It was like the wind was saying to her gently, "It's all going to be okay."
"This feels great."
"Yeah," Velma agreed. "Something's coming, Ruby, and I have a feeling it's going to make everything better around here."
Ruby sighed. "I hope you're right, Vel. I hope you're right."
(A/N: I crave feedback! Every time you don't review, a cute furry animal loses its home. Think of the animals!)
