It happened when he discovered the truth about his mother's death. Before he learned about it he was already in the middle of a restless cycle. This time only being able to lightly doze for around five hours per night... but after that horrible day when he finally uncovered some handwritten letters he swore his father burned years ago, he was horrified upon discovering that his mother had not left his father as he believed... but she was taken to another kingdom in hopes of recovering from a terrible illness... and then a formal notice from a distant kingdom with deep regrets-
It had been over a month since he read those letters and had since allowed his already poor cycle of insomnia to disintegrate completely. Now he barely slept for more than two to three hours per night- sometimes per two nights or three even. This, as one may expect, vastly caused the king to spiral into extreme irritability during the day and hardly left his office other than to eat two bites of food before returning back without even speaking even when directly addressed. He swore he was fine and just wanted to have the world leave him alone- is that too much to ask?
Minnie finally had enough of watching her husband suffer and one day swiped the master key from the head butler who stood outside of the King's office where she burst into the room with the sense to drag her husband out of this downward spiral. The head butler was unfortunately ordered to stay put for the entirety of their three-hour-long discussion, but judging by how her kind-hearted concerns were soon transformed into personal defenses and frustrating exchanges, the butler did not have to imagine how things were going. Then he heard the king say something... something he in his fifty years of service would never imagine hearing from the king's voice. Then the butler's heart broke in two as the queen burst into tears before the king suddenly slammed the door open and stormed out of the castle while screaming terrible things all the while...
Never would he imagined...
Meanwhile, the King was currently marching through a nearby graveyard and certainly not in the mood for silent respect as he ranted his frustrations while he passed headstones that could never respond or argue-
The truth of his mother's death lay entirely too fresh in his mind as he trudged further along in the snow. And the further he walked, the more he was reminded of previous transgressions by his father. How he separated their family... how he forbade the mouse to even talk about his mother... the terrible rule that one must only grant an hour to express the weaker side of the heart- the accusation that he shamed the royal family for being tenderhearted-
Then thoughts of his wife trickled through and mixed with past memories. He scowled. How could she ever understand? He took everything away- everything! And she wants him to just forget about it? It didn't matter that she didn't say those words, that's what she meant and he knew it. Well not everyone can have perfect lives tailor-made for them! What could she possibly know about him!?
He kicked up some snow and grabbed a rock before chucking it as hard as he could against one of the larger gravestones which didn't even cause a dent as the rock ricochet off the concrete statue before striking straight back into his ankle. After a few agonizing seconds, the mouse released a terrible guttural growl of frustration before catching a glimmer of his self-reflection shimmering from the line of headstones.
From what little he saw, he could barely see somewhat transparent images of himself ranting and raving like a child throwing a tantrum... and in some aspects, he was.
After getting to finally restore the worlds... he had assumed that life would finally begin. He'd finally take the helm of taking care of this kingdom and could prove his father wrong by being a better king than him- better than anyone!
And look at him... three years later and finding that this world would hardly change if he was alive or missing in action. Surely there was some big problem that only he could solve- something the kingdom needed him to fix... but it was the same as before he left, heck it looked even better! And the longer he stuck around, the more he felt that Minnie would be far better off without him around to ruin her perfect system.
She made all the important decisions here anyway, so what was he good for right?
The more he thought about the past three years, and his inabilities to shake away from his father's influence, the more infuriated and isolated and hurt he felt towards the injustices of the world and how he felt so useless in it... of course, no one could ever know about that. They'd just say he was overreacting or to be glad the old king was out of their lives... but they wouldn't understand. Minnie wouldn't understand... and... and-
He tensed as the image of her crying flashed before his eyes.
Oh... dear Lord, out of all the things to say to her... why did it have to be that? Why? That look on her face... He hurt her. He had really hurt her- Like everyone else...
This was the King's thought as he finally reached the stone of his mother Lillian May... a worn-down stone that was far more decrepit than the others- no doubt something his father done just to spite her. It was all so... so unfair!
W-Why? Mom... why did you have to leave me behind?
The rising tension he had felt for the past three years finally exploded out of the poor king who began to cry pent up tears of frustration that were decades-long overdue. He hated it. He hated feeling like this... after saving all the worlds, he was supposed to return to the cheerful funny king everyone knew him for- why was that so hard for him? Why was he so pathetic?!
He suddenly covered his mouth as he swore he heard another presence- another citizen wondering the graveyard no doubt. He bit hard against his cloak in a sudden urge to repress any noise he might be making. They can't see him. They can't look at him like this- no one gets to see it! He bit back shuddering cries as he looked around... and after determining that there was not another soul in sight, he still kept a firm grip against his mouth as he cried- for even he was sick of hearing his own voice.
However, at that moment, something strange befell on the poor mouse as he watched this broken heap of frustrations and sorrows echo his own movements. As the reflection sobbed, he became aware that the sounds of it changed. No longer did it sound like someone who was upset... but was beginning to sound like someone bursting with giggles.
The King shook his head side to side unable to understand why or how, but without any warning, he had begun laughing in the midst of tears. How terribly awful...
Unfortunately just before he could really register the implications of this, he forced to pull down his hand. After all, there was one thing he refused to do, it was to laugh at someone's grave. And yet as he wiped away fresh tears from his face, the small king felt another set of giggles overtake him. S- stop that! he internally called out in an effort to pick himself back up... but after several minutes the king was horrified to realize that not only was he unable to bring himself down... but he was laughing harder and harder until it instantaneously shifted back to convulsive sobs.
Soon he found himself doubled over as this strange affliction grew more drastic and intense. He could no longer stand as his body began to shake under its influence, it's control! Both laughter and cries freely shifted within seconds and he was completely powerless while lying in the snow clutching his stomach as in a fit so extreme that he felt his abdomen violently expand and contract in panful spasms that still maddeningly encouraged his body to betray him by laughing all the more. It became too difficult to breathe- suddenly a wave of pain caused his body to lurch forward-
To find that it stopped.
He was frozen to the spot lying in the snow... but it, whatever it was, left completely. The crying... the cackling... all of it.
While it was happening he could barely think straight, so upon having sudden silence assault his ears, the mouse was frozen stiff. He tried to lift his head but felt an overwhelming sense of fear- as if any movement would trigger another fit. But out of the corner of his eye, it seemed like he was mistaken about a sudden presence amongst the graveyard. For way off in the distance a passerby who witnessed him collapsing was now running straight towards him... and the poor king felt his heart drop. He rolled to his side in a last-ditch effort to hide. But just when the stranger's shadow hovered over his head... another wave of explosive involuntary laughter flooded his senses while his body painfully shook with violent and mournful sobs.
He was extremely lucky that the stranger was a doctor that recognized the king's distress and immediately took action. After some difficulty getting the king on his feet for his body was wracked with wordless convulsive spasms, he finally got the fella to sit up on all fours before lifting the King up by the shoulders and half-carried half-dragged him to a nearby truck. Once they were both inside, he wasted no time slamming the key into the ignition and then broke about a million traffic laws to get the king to the nearest hospital.
When they finally arrived, the king was immediately rushed to a private room as one of the nurses called for an emergency messenger to the castle. Doctors began to flood the room and momentarily stared at him with such horror and pity- but even though his expression was too infuriatingly manic and his gasping laughter echoed too loud within his ears, his heart was filled with such humiliation that he immediately grabbed the nearest pillow and dove his entire face into it while heaving for air,
Luckily though, the young doctors were not there to humiliate his pride, but watching him cling to the nearest pillow seemed to jolt them out of their momentary shock. They immediately turned to each other to determine what to do. Mice were notorious for their increased heart-rate and most medicines were risky to administer under normal circumstances. What could they do for the most important mouse in the whole kingdom who was no doubt already at risk?
Just then, one of the elder doctors, a round-faced fellow with a mustache and a stern disposition burst through the group and began barking orders without so much as a passing glance. Immediately the others scattered out of the room, darting this way and that as they gathered their clipboards and began shouting for various supplies as soon as they were out the door.
The elder doctor gave a disapproving huff as he watched the last one leave before softening his expression and turned back to the king with soft kind eyes. He began to speak in even calming tones, but the poor king could hardly hear it over echoes of his own desperation. Soon after, one of the other doctors rushed in with something long and thin in his hands as the elder quickly began to untie the king's shoes while a third doctor began to firmly press his arms against the king's right leg. Then just as the elder removed his shoes, the second man grabbed his ankle and the king recoiled as a sharp sting dug into his heel.
At least his emotional response shifted back to the appropriate direction at that moment... but not long after a half-second of externalized panic... he was surprised to suddenly feel a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body. He was still laughing uncontrollably as the medication spread... but soon found that his stomach wasn't contorting nearly as hard. It became easier to breathe...
He slowly turned his head. Spasms turned completely limp... screams were tamed to light and barely audible whimpers... and when the medicine had run its course, the elder doctor had finally picked the mouse up and laid him flat on his back where he could see there were only two silent visible indications of the mouse's current affliction. A light fluttering in his abdomen and silent tears that freely flowed from the corner of one barely open eye.
The doctor frowned at this but kept his worries to himself as he immediately sent for an oxygen mask to be placed on their guest while he began checking for any other injuries. It was perhaps for the best that the king had no memory of his stay, but would later on get a report that they had documented every involuntary session which had apparently lasted up for two hours at a time.
There was only an average of one minute and a half of baseline stability in between.
That tottering yet dulled state was how the king had spent the next four days- each day more worrisome than the last. Apparently, he nearly fought off the medication twice and they had to administer stronger doses on several occasions- but like with any other patient they just had to find the correct balance so the poor king could still be awake enough for this strange affliction to run its course, but also sedated enough to alleviate as much mental stress as possible.
After getting that sorted, the elder doctor made it a priority to be the one to check his vitals every day. He talked fondly to the barely responsive king as if he were one of his own children. The patient hardly noticed another presence and his short gasps for air were worrisome, but the elder had noticed that the patient's stomach fluttered slightly more whenever he was in the room compared to the other doctors. To him, that seemed like a compliment to his care, which pleased the elder doctor immensely despite the situation.
And when he entered the room on the early morn of the fourth day, he was pleasantly surprised to finally see some concrete positive improvements in the patient's health. For starters, the king's breathing was steady and no longer labored... the edges of his eyes were chapped from the previous crying spells, but there weren't any fresh tears this morning. Even the fella's skin was more of healthy color and his fur seemed to be regaining some natural shine- he wasn't even looking for that, but it was still positive changes all the same. The doctor lightly patted the king's hands in soft approval, satisfied to let the nurses come in to help him 'return to the living' as the saying goes.
It took many hours for the mouse to properly regain consciousness. After all, he was fighting against four times the amount of sedation medication than what was usually given to other mice, but after many attempts, the small king's eyes fluttered and slowly responded to distant echoing voices asking for his name and wondering where he was. His voice was completely shot and could barely form any sound... but he seemed able to at least mouth the correct answer which seemed to satisfy the distant voices.
Then slowly... ever so slowly... his surroundings began to take proper form as colors began to shift into proper objects and distant ringing began to clear. The nurses kept chattering away which made the small king want to cover his throbbing ears, but he was too weak to even move. Still, though, the nurses were surprised to see that the king did not have any heightened aggression like other patients after waking from sedation... but after what he had been through, the king had never had he been so grateful to feel nothing at all.
He smiled a dopy half-grin before succumbing to exhaustion and slept soundly for the first time in many days.
After a while, the king had been lightly awoken by the elder doctor who took the time to explain something. He was proud to see that the King had not been experiencing that odd symptom since first waking... but broke the news that they wanted to keep him there for at least another week for a variety of tests. At first, the little mouse could only barely squeak out several objections, but the elder had to insist and explained that even though they were able to help the king ride out that horrific affliction, they still had no idea what could have caused such a thing. Plus considering his position of power and no heir to the throne etc...
Mickey finally relented and tried to shift his position as the elder took his leave. It seemed like he was gonna be here for a long time... but something told him that they didn't need to do much looking for what could have caused all this. After all, he already knew.
When he first went to his mother's grave (had it only been nearly a week ago?) he could barely remember something about a lot of things bothering him all exploding all at once. Things kept to himself... and probably shouldn't have.
Mickey couldn't help but grimace for he didn't think about it until then, but it was inevitable that a messenger had been sent when he arrived here... which essentially meant that the whole kingdom probably knew all about this whole ordeal...
He groaned as he began to think about the prospect of future headlines and scheduled interviews, but something from within told him that... they had the right to know about this. Something had happened because he... had been too afraid to share. To talk things out- to... to...
To ask for help without offering it first...
He shuddered.
It seemed to him that it would be rather difficult to tear down previous walls, especially after his life's foundation had been built on them...
But after experiencing what he had just been through, he no longer wished to allow selfish pride hinder his emotional health. He never wanted to feel so... so helpless again. If he could just have some courage to talk about it... at least every once in a while... maybe someday that'll help others too. Perhaps.
But that could wait until another time... he was beginning to drift off again until he heard a small knock on the door. Who on earth? Though he was extremely tired and he was barely able to raise his voice, he called out questioningly... and before he knew it his room was soon overcrowded with the relieved smiles of his closest friends and family.
Donald was first to burst into the room and nearly jumped on the bed, squawking and wak'ing all the while- Goofy quickly followed and lightly tugged at Donald's shoulder causing the duck to grumble worryingly but jumped down and smiling wide at the mouse. Then Goofy was lightly squeezing his shoulder and nestled a small bag of candies within the folds of his blanket. Then Horace and Clearable and Chip and Dale... Even Master YenSid who arrived last was grumbling in low tones before sitting himself down at the foot of the bed. He looked at the mouse with intense eyes that seemed to pierce straight through him, but through the king's slightly blurred vision he coulda sworn that YenSid looked like he had been crying lately... but he gave a soft smile and patted the mouse's foot before standing up and excusing himself out of the room.
Though he wished he had called him back to stay longer, the King was perhaps too overwhelmed as is upon watching everyone hovering around his bed while excitedly talking over each other. They have begun to ask questions and celebrating apparent victories... and only after they all began to settle when Minnie decided to walk in to greet her husband. Without so much as a word, she softly drew close and cupped her hands around his head while gently brushing her thumb lightly under his puffy eyes. It wasn't until then he realized how awful he must look, but quietly dismissed that as soon as he gazed into her own... and noticed they looked puffy as well.
Without the voice to say the feelings in his heart, he let himself lean heavily against her palm. Then he slowly pursed his lips and brushed them lightly against her wrist. It was hardly the apology she deserved for all he put her through, but by her tearful smile that seemed to lift up his very soul... he knew she understood and accepted it all the same. Slowly, she leaned forward and gently placed a soft kiss on his brow. And all was right in the world.
After a few precious moments, Minnie finally pulled away and began to readjust the back of his pillow while keeping one hand firmly secure in her own- Mickey took the time to silently lean back and watch as the others settled themselves around his bed. Soon enough, everyone began to simply enjoy each other's company now that their king was on the mend. Occasionally they'd turn to him to ask about what could have caused his condition. Thankfully, Minnie was a perfect advocate to let him rest...
But he didn't mind them. In fact, as he watched all of his friends chatter away, he slowly realized how lucky he was to be surrounded by people who truly loved him. A small grin spread across his face before a light chuckle left his lips. It was worn, hollow, and hardly managed to be above a whisper... but it was real.
For the first time in three years, he truly felt at home.