Chapter 13 Too Many Worries

Many times, people find themselves in interesting positions, precarious positions. Positions such as these make people uneasy, anxious. They douse people in the worst dread that they have ever experienced in their life. This scenario was the exact position that Morton found himself in.

He was having trouble breathing, and not just because he was pushing himself to run. His anxiety levels were so high through the roof that they were in space. He didn't want Dark Iggy to get away with his scheme. Considering what he was, Morton could not comprehend a reality where Dark Iggy's plan brought forth good fruit. An unhappy ending was the scenario that he kept imagining, and because his personality instructed him to dwell on the negative, Morton was dwelling on the negative.

He did not want to be anxious; no one does. He had thought that anxiety and negativity wouldn't be problems after his traits initially got back together, but he was wrong. They were still there, dark and viscous. Why? He and Iggy had found the root of his depression, and Morton was too introspective to believe that they were wrong. Why wasn't his depression gone?

He did not know what to do. His first instinct was to disregard the feelings, to bury them deep beneath the surface. But that coping mechanism hadn't done him any good in the past. What could he do?

Morton didn't know. All that he did know was that he had to find Dark Iggy. His anxiety was nagging at him, but he couldn't let it have power over him. He couldn't let it become his god.

So, Morton kept going. That was, until he detected the sound of footprints around the corner. They were light, skimpy. They were also going at a relatively brisk pace. Morton gulped. What if it was Dark Iggy?

The person who was producing the footsteps was getting closer. Morton held his breath and pressed his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, afraid of who he might see if he lifted his eyelids.

The footsteps were getting closer, closer, and closer still. Morton speculated that they were five feet away. Three feet away. A foot!

I am so doomed, Morton thought. He could barely breathe now. In one last worried attempt to keep himself safe, he ducked into his shell.

"Morton?"

The voice didn't sound like Iggy's at all. Morton peeked out from his shell and breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Larry.

"Oh, thank goodness," Morton said as he stood up. Now that he wasn't in any danger, relief was washing over him in a torrent of waves. Larry stared at him in bafflement.

"You're back together!" Larry said.

"Oh, yeah, I am," Morton said. Larry's face broke out into a grin.

"Awesome!" he said. "So I'm assuming Iggy solved the depression problem?"

Morton's heart sank. Should he tell Larry how he felt? He didn't want any of his siblings to worry about him. Especially not Larry, seeing how he was the only one of his siblings that was younger than he was. It wouldn't be right to place his burdens on his little brother. But then he remembered the words that Iggy had said to him while he was split up.

You've got six siblings who love you to death. If you are ever having trouble, you can always turn to us.

Morton let out a sigh. Iggy was right. He had to start opening up. After all, that was what he had been pushing Iggy to do in the lab.

"No, we haven't," Morton admitted.

Larry looked surprised.

"You haven't?"

Morton shook his head.

"I am still feeling as anxious as I always have." He started stimming with his fingers, hoping that the movement would help to relieve some stress. "And I don't know what to do about it either. I've been suppressing my emotions for so long that that has become my number one coping skill."

Morton looked away from Larry as he felt shame grip him. He should be able to do this. He should be able to know what to do. Why didn't he?

"Well," Larry began with a smile. "If your coping mechanism won't work, then I can give you one of mine."

Morton forced his eyes to travel back to his brother's spunky face.

"One of yours?"

"Yeah," Larry said, "you can think of something funny instead."

Morton gave a tiny smile.

"Like Lemmy's zinc pun," he said.

"Exactly!" Larry said with a grin. "Or Roy wearing one of Wendy's dresses!"

"Or the servants on Casual Friday," Morton said with a chuckle. Larry snorted.

"Yeah!" he laughed. "There's a reason why we only had one of those!"

Morton and Larry laughed together. When their laughter finally died, both of the koopa brothers had smiles on their faces.

"Thanks, Larry," Morton said.

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," Larry said. Suddenly, they heard a voice call out from the hallway.

"HELP!"

Larry and Morton exchanged a look.

"Was that Lemmy?" Larry asked.

Morton was confused. It certainly sounded like him. However, there was something off about the quality of his voice. It was louder, more echoey and dissonant. It was almost as if...as if there was more than one of him.

"Oh no," Morton said. He broke out into a run. Larry followed after him in confusion.

"Morton, what in the world is going on?"

Morton didn't stop. He continued to run. He had to find his brother. He had to find Lemmy.

Morton ran down a staircase and turned the corner. He now found himself in the courtyard. The sight in the grassy area made him gasp. Larry also stopped completely.

"What the World Eight?" he said in wide eyed shock.

There was not just one Lemmy. There were four.