Days passed. And while the raccoon's wounds began to subside, his face was still pale and weathered, as if all life had seemingly been sucked out of him. He didn't want to stay that way. But everything seemed to be piling up on top of him… what happened that fateful night was one thing. The lack of a shoulder to lean on was another.

Sure, Mordecai had been supportive and helpful at the beginning. He had let Rigby sleep in his bed, and constantly made sure that he was fine… but as time went on, the blue jay returned to making his daily visits to the Coffee Shop to admire the girl whom he was so infatuated with.

And so Rigby was alone once more.


He didn't know how long he had been standing in the field, nor did he remember how he got there. He observed his surroundings, noticing the pale blue skies above him, cloudless and vacant of any life. The ground beneath him was plush and vibrant, the green landscape stretching endlessly in all directions. His eyes searched for the point which it would meet the horizon and disappear, but they could not find it. Instead, they chanced upon something in the distance, jutting out of the ground slightly. Curious as to what the object was, he began to scamper toward it on all four legs. In a matter of seconds, he was beside it, and at once knew what it was.

It was a rosebush. Green leaves covered the small shrubbery, but made way for thorns which poked through several crevasses that the foliage did not cover. His gaze lingered on a bright red rose on the top of the bush, shining brightly. No thorn had rested upon this lone flower, and it stood brilliantly without a blemish. With shaking paws, he removed the rose from its resting place, and looked at it intently. He didn't know what was so powerful about it, but something was in that rose which made him treat it with great care and respect. He moved his paws over the blossom, wanting to know and memorize all of its textures, the lightness of it in his hands, and the scent of its wonder.

His peace and serenity was brought to a halt as the skies above him began to shift. Instead of being the calming aqua it had been before, it had made its transition to a murky gray, angry and intimidating. He looked up in fear, and squinted as a powerful gust blew straight through him. He shivered slightly, wanting to rub his arms in order to keep himself warm, but did not due to the rose in his hand. He brought his attention back to it.

It too had changed. Instead of shining a wondrous cardinal, it had become as gray as the sky above it. The petals were wilting in his paws, and began to disperse and disintegrate. He felt the weightlessness of it as it slowly disappeared from his grasp. He kept the dying plant close to his chest, not wanting to let go of it, but for a reason he did not know. He clenched his eyes completely shut, holding the flower tightly. Soon, it vanished altogether.

He opened his eyes to find a fist colliding with his face. He shut his eyes again before the punch made contact. The pain was searing and overwhelming, but only for a moment. It was soon replaced by a numb feeling; one that frightened him. Timidly, he let his eyes open once more so that he could find out where he was.

The alleyway was dark and grimy. Trash cans had been tipped over in various places, and the place smelled of raw sewage. There were three men standing over him, all appearing to be in their twenties. They wore beanies and sweatshirts; one held a crowbar in his hand menacingly, and another, a baseball bat. The one who had punched him cracked his knuckles with a malicious smirk as he pulled back to deliver another blow. He tried to speak out in protest, to tell them that he had no money that they could take, but nothing would come out. Instead, he was punched once more. That numbing sensation returned.

The others soon joined in, whaling on him one after another. He stifled a sob, wanting to stay strong; never before had he encountered something like this, and he was scared. They had been attacking him for so long that he lost track of time, and he was hurt to the point where he could feel next to nothing. As his body was about to give up, he heard a shout, and the attack ceased. His eyes were bloodied to the point that he couldn't open them anymore, but he was thankful that he had been saved.

He heard footsteps approach him. He didn't fear it, though. In fact, it calmed him. He felt a soft material on his shoulder, suddenly lying him down. The softness was all around him now, enveloping him completely. His paws grazed over the one holding him, and at once he knew what it was that had saved him. Feathers.

"Mordecai."

He whispered the name, content with where he was. He felt the wing of his best friend - his only friend - lightly glide over his wounds and injuries. "You're hurt," he heard him say, stating the obvious. "I'll go get some help." The bird moved to leave, but he reached up and grabbed his leg before he could get up.

"No, stay," he said plainly. "I like it here." Suddenly, it didn't smell as bad, and the ground didn't feel rugged. It was serene once more, as if he had returned to that meadow. He enjoyed being with his friend, just the two of them, alone…

He opened his eyes to find a boring ceiling. He looked around the familiar room from Mordecai's bed. Everything was the same as it had been the day before; including his still missing pile of junk. Everything was normal. Everything was regular. With a sigh, he lay down again, letting his head hit the pillow with a soft thud. He shifted his weight so that he was facing the empty spot on the mattress next to him. He stared at it with sad eyes.

"Good morning, Mordecai."


His paws trembled as he held the phone.

It couldn't be that hard, could it?

No, of course not.

It's easy!

With a gulp, he quickly dialed the number and raised it to his ear. The beep was driving him crazy. As he decided that he wasn't going to pick up, and was about to hang up, he heard the receiver on the other end. "Hey-lo?" The voice on the other end asked. He stopped. His voice dried up. "Hello?" It repeated. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

"Hey, Don."

"Rigbone! It's been awhile. How're you doing?"

'Terrible, if you really want to know', he thought. He shook his head. "Fine. Look, I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure thing, bro! I have today off anyway, so you can come over! I'll cook something for you!"

"Uh, actually-"

"See you later!" The excited voice disappeared and was replaced by a dull buzz. He set the phone down with a groan. Now he remembered why he didn't talk with his brother that often.


Rigby had grown up in his younger brother's shadow for all of his life. Don had always been better than him; in school, at jobs, at making friends… Don was living the life that Rigby had only dreamed of. Of course, he didn't envy the responsibility and work that the accountant had to deal with day in and day out; but any sense of accomplishment would mean the world to him. And that was what he lacked.

Rigby had recently repaired his ailing relationship with his brother due to an audit problem with the park. They had cleared the air as to why they had been distant for the many years they had gone without a single word passing between the two. They were proud to call each other brothers; Don himself even looked up to Rigby. Yet still, the smaller raccoon could not help but feel a trifle jealous of all that Don had accomplished in his life. It made him feel so… so…

Insignificant.

However, he needed someone to talk to at that moment in time. Mordecai was out of the question, as he was a cause of the problem. Pops wouldn't understand, and neither would Benson, but for different reasons altogether. He would have gone to Skips, but the yeti was nowhere to be found. There was no place else for him to turn to.

And desperate times called for desperate measures.


"Hey, Margaret!"

"Oh, hi Mordecai!… No Rigby today?"

"Huh? Oh, no. He's going to see his brother."

"Really? I didn't know he had a brother."

"Yeah, he's a pretty cool dude."

"Sounds nice. To have siblings, I mean. I'm an only child. The regular?"

"Sure."


He had reached his destination at last. The house stood elegant while overlooking the city. It was perched on top of a nice hill, and had a magnificent view of the park where Rigby and Mordecai worked at. He stared at the white building, its angular architecture reminding the raccoon of his days at their old house. The resemblance was uncanny, to say the least.

He approached the door and knocked three times, stepping back timidly. He was unsure how his brother would look at him, or if he would notice the still visible scars on his fur. But he had made the decision - why, he didn't know - but he knew he had to go through with it once he had reached this point. The door opened.

"Hey, bro! Long time no see! How about you come get some sugar?"


"…And that's how we broke up."

"Wow. So uh…"

"What?"

"You mean… you're single now?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's what being broken up means."

"Oh. Well, uh… I hope it all… works out for you."

"Thanks, Mordecai."


The older of the two was never one who cared for tea. As he was almost always hopping up and down and fidgeting from side to side, he much preferred the rush of adrenaline and bold taste that coffee presented to him. His younger brother, on the other hand, liked receiving his daily dose of caffeine through a much more soothing and gentle method. "You sure you don't want any?" The younger, much larger one asked, calling over his shoulder as he heated up a kettle on the stove. Rigby sighed as he sat at the small circular table, looking down.

"Well, maybe just a little," he responded after a short while. Who knew; maybe his taste had changed during all those years since when he had his first cup of tea. And after all, there was nothing wrong with a small change of pace, right?

Don returned to Rigby as he let the kettle heat up. "So," he said, leaning on one of the chairs situated at the table, "what's up? You don't look so good, bro." Rigby continued to look down at his paws, thinking about what he would say. He looked up after several seconds had passed, and stared at his brother with pleading eyes.

"Don, I came because I need to talk."

"I'll always be here to listen, Rigs."

The older brother took a deep intake of air before talking to Don, who had seated himself opposite Rigby. He then proceeded to tell him everything that had happened; everything from the dream he had witnessed the previous night all the way back to what had happened that night Mordecai found him on the park bench.


"So is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Huh? Oh, uh…"

"Yeah?"

"Well… you know about the…"


The kettle began to whistle. Don got up from the table and walked over to the kettle, preparing to pour the tea for the two of them. Rigby sat still, clenching his pawns on his knees. He still couldn't believe that he had just told his brother everything that was going on in his life. It felt to him that, once again, it was being treated as if Don was the older brother.

But Rigby would always feel safe with him. It wasn't something he fully realized or could explain, but he knew that whatever he told Don would always be a secret between them and them alone. His own personal confidant. Don returned with the drinks, and gave a cup to his brother. Rigby muttered a "thank you" and proceeded to blow softly on the liquid, hoping it would help cool it down.

"Do…" Don started. Rigby looked up from his drink. "…Do you know who it was who… did it?" The smaller raccoon shook his head.

"I told you, I was caught by surprise," he said. "I couldn't get a good look at him." Don sighed, leaning back in his chair, one of his hands moving up to grab his forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Rigby…"

"I am too."

Don moved from his spot at the table and walked around so that he was behind Rigby. He embraced his brother from behind the chair, holding him tightly. Normally, Rigby would've resisted and strained. He would have tried to get away as quickly as possible. But for this moment, for this one special time… he was okay with it. In fact, dare he think it, he actually enjoyed it. He leaned back into the chair, letting his brother caress him.

"Does Mordecai know?"

"He knows I was hurt, duh. He's the one who saved me, after all."

"But does he-"

"No." Don's hand moved up and down Rigby's arm soothingly, trying to show all the brotherly affection that he possibly could. "I couldn't let him know."

"Everything'll be fine," Don said reassuringly. "It'll all work out, you'll see." Rigby's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, breaking from his sibling's hug.

" 'It'll all be fine'? Are you serious?" He got up from the chair, stepping back from the man in front of him. "You don't know what it's like!"

"Rigby…"

"You don't know what I'm going through!" He yelled, shaking his head furiously. Don calmly grabbed his own cup of tea and sipped at it. "It sucks! My life sucks! I feel so worthless! It's… it's…!" He stood still, standing in the middle of the kitchen, his arms shaking in a mixture of fury and overwhelming sadness. His brother continued to simply drink his tea, complacent with the taste and inner atmosphere it gave him. Rigby stared at him with furrowed brows.

"Drink some of it," the younger said after awhile. "It'll calm you down." The older brother looked at him, perplexed. Don simply stared back. After awhile, Rigby obliged. And while he still loathed the taste, he had to admit, he felt a little bit better. "Better?" Don asked. Rigby nodded. The larger raccoon smiled. "Good. Now, listen to me, Rigby. You're not worthless. Don't you let anybody ever tell you that." The smaller one let a tiny smile meet his lips, the words encouraging him somewhat. The fact that his brother still had faith in him after all this time made him light up inside.

"Thanks, bro."

"Look, a friend of mine is holding a little get together over at the Coffee Shop tomorrow night. Maybe you and Mordecai should come. You could use a night out, and I know how much you like the place." Rigby shuddered at the thought of going over there with Mordecai. Don noticed this movement. "What? You don't like it anymore?"

"No, it's not that," Rigby said, taking another sip of the - to him - vile drink. "I like it. It's just…"

"Just what?"

Rigby exhaled. "Mordecai's totally in love with one of the waitresses there."

"What's her name?" Don asked.

"Margaret. Why?" Rigby inquired, curious as to why Don would ask that.

"No reason," Don said, continuing to down his tea. He looked at Rigby expectantly.

"I know if I go to this thing, she'll be there… and then he'll totally blow me off and spend all the time hanging out with her."

"So?" Don asked, crossing his legs. Rigby looked at his brother skeptically.

" 'So' what?"

"Well, Mordecai's your friend, right?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you want him to be happy?" Rigby opened his mouth to retort, but closed it before anything came out. He looked down, suddenly overcome with realization.

"I… never thought of that." He continued to stare down. He thought about all the times when Mordecai would want to do something, and he would always ask what he would get out of it. What was in it for him? Upon reflecting, Rigby found out that he had never once done something for Mordecai's benefit without expecting something in return. "Wow. I just realized how pathetic that sounded."

"All you have to do is look at life from a different perspective," Don said. "If you want him to be happy, try letting him hook up with Margaret. And if it doesn't work, then there was no harm, right?" Rigby nodded.

"Alright, I'll go."

"That's the spirit!" Don exclaimed with a wide grin. He began to take another sip of tea when something interrupted him. He set down the cup as he began to cough violently. Rigby looked at him, concerned.

"Bro, you okay?" Don held up a hand as the coughing grew weaker, and finally subsided.

"Yeah," he croaked out, patting his chest with a fist and clearing his throat. "Fine. Just a little bug I have. It should go away soon." Rigby relaxed and smiled softly.

"Whatever you say," he said, finishing off the rest of his tea. Don met his smile with one of his own. "You know, this crap isn't terrible."

And they laughed.


"So I'll see you then?"

"Yeah, definitely!"

"You'll see if Rigby can come too, right?"

"…Uh, yeah, sure. If he's up to it, I mean."

"Cool. See you!"

Mordecai exited the Coffee Shop with a smile on his face and a frown in his heart.


"I'll drive you back to the park."

"You sure?" Rigby asked as they stepped outside. Don walked over to open the garage door.

"Of course!" He said with a grunt as he lifted the door open. "It's not like I have anything better to do right now anyway." The two hopped into Don's red Corvette as he started the engine.

"Bro?"

"Yeah, Rigbone?"

"Thanks… for everything."

"Don't mention it, man. Like I said; I'll always be here to listen."

They smiled as Don turned up the radio. And for the first time since he had been brought back to the house by Mordecai on that stormy night, Rigby felt truly happy.

They blasted tunes all the way back.