There was quite a bit of activity when Mickey and Oswald arrived in Bog Easy. Several rabid Blotlings were overrunning the area, causing general uproar. They were immediately busy taking them out, making conversation limited.

"Whew!" Oswald said when they finally got some breathing space. "Things are really crazy around here."

"Tell me about it," Mickey replied. He frowned and brushed at his arms as ink rose from them.

"You okay?"

Mickey nodded, giving the rabbit a tired smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Definitely not looking forward to getting into the mansion, though."

At that moment, Gus warped in. "The locals tell me that the mansion has been closed off ever since the creatures started appearing, and the ghosts are having a lot of trouble with them."

Oswald hefted his remote. "Well, we'll give 'em what for and clear it out."

Mickey nodded, but in truth, he wasn't looking forward to fighting more at all. He was starting to really feel uneasy about using Thinner, even though it was far quicker to defeat the Mecha-Blotlings with than Paint. The more he used Thinner, the more he dripped ink, and that was starting to scare him.

Just then, Mickey heard a series of chirrups. He glanced over to see a few redeemed Blotlings giving him a friendly wave. Mickey was surprised, but smiled and waved back sheepishly.

"Huh," Oswald said, "looks like they're warming up to ya."

Mickey glanced at Oswald, then shrugged and smirked. "Well, it had t' happen sooner or later, right?"

The rabbit chuckled. "Don't give yourself too much credit."

When they arrived at the Lonesome Manor, Oswald pushed open the door while Mickey and Gus stood at the ready. Sure enough, there were Mecha-Blotlings swarming the foyer. Mickey began to use Thinner, but as ink began dripping faster from his body, he suddenly switched to Paint and began alternating between both Paint and Thinner. As a result, it took far longer than usual to clear the area.

"You're sure takin' your time," Oswald grumbled, exhausted from the long battle. "Think maybe ya can step it up a little?"

Mickey shot the rabbit a glare. "Hey, you wanna take th' brush, be my guest."

"I would, but then what would ya fight with? Ya don't know how to use the remote."

"In that case, how about usin' it t' figure out where we need t' go?" Mickey shot back.

Oswald huffed, then punched a few buttons on his remote, bringing up the radar image. It pinged for a while as he pointed it first one way, then another. Finally, when he aimed it upward, the pinging grew faster. "Must be upstairs," Oswald said.

Mickey snapped his fingers. "I'm willin' to bet it's in th' attic! There's plenty of room up there with the Mad Doc's machinery gone."

Oswald nodded, a little unnerved by Mickey's sudden change of tone. "Right."

As the group made their way through the Manor, they ran into large numbers of Mecha-Blotlings... not only Spatters, but Slobbers and Spladooshes. Despite his misgivings, Mickey began to use Thinner more than Paint again. He still switched to Paint occasionally, however, despite its ineffectiveness. Watching the mouse more closely now, Oswald began to guess what the reason might be, but decided not to push it.

Finally, the toons reached the attic of the Manor, and sure enough, there was the generator: crammed in the back of the room with plenty of Mecha-Blotlings guarding it.

Oswald twirled his remote and glanced over at Mickey. "I'm gonna go for the generator," he said. "Can ya hold 'em back?"

Mickey took a deep breath and nodded, tightening his hold on the brush. "I'll keep 'em away."

With that, the two toons began fighting their way across the room. Mickey shot Thinner that melted away the Blotling's ink while Oswald's remote took them out of commission. By the time they reached the generator, both were panting from exhaustion. Without wasting a second, Oswald went to work downloading the information from the generator as Mickey continued to hold off the remaining Mecha-Blotlings. After a grueling few minutes, the generator finally powered down.

"Alright, the self-destruct is set. Let's get outta here!" Oswald said, using his remote to unleash a giant electric field. The Mecha-Blotlings within range jittered, then collapsed. Dodging the remaining Mecha-Blotlings, the two toons raced for the exit. Once they were out of the mansion, the sound of an explosion shook the ground. Mickey panted, rubbing his aching head as ink dripped rapidly from his body. A hand on his arm made him turn to see Oswald looking at him with slight concern.

"You all right?"

Mickey took a few deep breaths, and the ink began to slow down until it was reduced to only a few drips. "I'm good," the mouse replied.

Just then, a few of the mansion's ghosts popped up nearby, startling them both. "Thanks for clearing the place out!" one of them said. "We were really starting to have trouble!"

Oswald grinned. "No problem! Glad we could help!"

Mickey smiled too, nodding. After the ghosts disappeared, he turned to Oswald. "Just one to go. So where do we go?"

Oswald flipped his remote back to radar mode, turning it slowly one way, then another. "Looks like the last one is up on Mickeyjunk Mountain."

Together, the toons headed up the mountain, fighting Mecha-Blotlings all the way. Eventually, they found themselves outside Oswald's old fortress. Both Mickey and Oswald fell into an uneasy silence; it had been a long time since they'd been here, and back then, tensions had been high between the two.

As the group made their way through the fortress, even more Mecha-Blotlings bogged down their progress considerably. Mickey noticed that Oswald seemed to be getting more and more agitated the longer they fought, so when they finally caught a break, he decided to ask about it.

"Oswald, what's wrong?"

The rabbit glanced over at him. "We're gonna have to take a detour," he said. "There's somethin' I gotta check."

Mickey was confused, but the arrival of more enemies quickly diverted his attention. He followed Oswald as the rabbit hurried along a hallway, then ducked into a small, out-of-the-way room. Peeking inside, Mickey's eyes widened. Inside the room, there were several old photos and newspaper clippings. Each of them included Walt. A few of them even had Walt and Oswald together. On a table, there were also what appeared to be some old family knick-knacks, likely given to Oswald by Walt.

Oswald's shoulders sagged with relief at the sight, then glanced behind him at Mickey, who remained standing in the doorway.

"I, uh..." he said softly. "I collected everything that I could find. I just had to make sure it was okay, what with all the crazy Blotlings roamin' around."

Mickey nodded, an understanding look on his face. He slowly moved up to the rabbit and placed a hand on his shoulder. As the two stood there, Gus waited silently in the doorway.

Finally, Oswald cleared his throat. "We, uh, better get goin'."

Mickey nodded, and the two slowly left the room. Oswald closed the door, his hand lingering on the knob, then pulled out his remote and turned it back on.

The group continued moving through the fortress, facing down even more Mecha-Blotlings. Finally, they reached the room housing the final generator. The place was crawling with enemies, and Mickey and Oswald had to fight hard to get across it and to the generator.

"Keep holdin' 'em back!" Oswald ordered. "I'll get th' data!"

"On it!" Mickey replied, twirling the brush in his hand. As Oswald worked to bypass the security system, Mickey continued to fight the inky monsters. Thinner sprayed from the brush in large waves, making the Mecha-Blotlings screech as their ink sloughed away to reveal the wiring underneath. Soon ink was rising rapidly from Mickey's body and his head was starting to pound. C'mon, Oswald... hurry! he thought to himself.

Finally, a bolt of electricity shot from behind him, making a Mecha-Slobber jolt as sparks flew from its mechanical body before it collapsed in a heap of ink and metal. Mickey continued to spray Thinner, clenching his teeth as he tried to ignore the growing pain in his head and the ink rising from his body. Beside him, Oswald shot at the Thinned-out Mecha-Blotlings with his remote. Slowly, the creatures' numbers thinned out until only one large Mecha-Slobber was left. By now, Mickey was dripping heavily. Afraid to push it any further, he shot some Paint at the monster. But with a vicious snarl, it swung a clawed hand that hit Mickey, knocking him across the room.

"Mickey!"

Oswald charged at the Mecha-Slobber with his remote, then cried out as it snatched him up, pinning his arms to his sides. He couldn't move, couldn't fight. His throat tightened with fear as the monster drew back its other clawed hand to strike, but then Mickey's voice split the air.

"STOP!"

The Mecha-Slobber suddenly froze, and its menacing grin vanished. It began twitching, letting out strange whimpering sounds. Oswald yelped as it suddenly let go, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Hey, what th'..." He froze at what he saw. Mickey stood there, his hands held out in a clawed position as ink bubbled from his body. His teeth were clenched, and Oswald could see him trembling with effort. His jaw dropped when he realized what was happening. He's... controlling it?!

A soft growling sound escaped Mickey's throat as he slowly lowered his hands, and the Slobber lowered onto all fours like a scolded puppy. Oswald stood frozen, unable to take his eyes off of what was happening. He could barely even believe it.

Suddenly, Mickey gasped and stumbled to the ground, clutching his head. The Mecha-Slobber hissed, its eyes narrowing, and began rising from its crouch. Oswald snapped out of his trance and shot a bolt of electricity, taking the creature out of commission. As it collapsed, the rabbit whirled around and raced toward Mickey.

"Mickey! Are you okay?!"

Mickey didn't even hear him. The thought of what he had just done raced through his mind again and again, filling him with an ever-growing sense of terror as his head pounded and ink churned from his body in sporadic waves. Curling on his side, he closed his eyes tightly and struggled to force them down. Don't... don't push it any more! Get it together! The ink just kept churning faster, and a head-splitting wave of pain pulled him into a haze. Mickey started shaking as dark spots filled his vision. "No... no..."

Everything went black.

Oswald couldn't stop his ears from twitching with nervous energy as he waited in the doorway, watching the Mad Doctor. He tried to read the Doctor's face, but it didn't do much good; the Mad Doctor's thinking face rarely gave anything away. The rabbit's eyes moved to Mickey and his ears began to twine. Disturbing as it was seeing him actually control a Blot creature, that wasn't what was worrying Oswald most... it was Mickey's current condition. How bad could it get? Was he hiding it all this time, or didn't he even know how deep his connection to the creatures went?

"So, how's it look, Doc? Is it... ya know, bad?"

The Mad Doctor straightened up and lifted his goggles. "This is rather strange..." he said thoughtfully. "But it appears that it isn't at all."

Oswald blinked, confused. "What? What do ya mean?"

The Doctor looked at him with a thoughtful expression, rubbing his chin. "You're certain the circumstances were as you described them? The creature showed no signs of aggression?"

"Uh... yeah," Oswald responded. "It just sorta froze and collapsed... like a puppet on strings. Why? What does it mean?"

The Mad Doctor tugged on a glove. "It means that the Blot's power inside him likely responded to his own desire, and I imagine that desire was to stop the creature from doing harm."

"What's your point?" Oswald asked.

The Mad Doctor glanced at Mickey as the mouse shivered, letting out a faint whimper. "My point is, his own mind is still in control. All signs tell me that the possession he so fears is no more than that... a fear."

Oswald frowned, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "You're sayin'... it's all in his head?"

The Mad Doctor shrugged. "The imagination is a very powerful thing." He looked at Oswald. "We know that better than anyone."

Oswald still looked a bit skeptical. "If he's not in any danger, then why'd he pass out?"

"Ah..." The Mad Doctor held up a finger. "That, my friend, is actually quite simple. With his... ahem... small stature, the mental and physical strain would be great, especially if he panicked. In this case, it merely became too much to handle."

"That's all?"

"That's all." The Mad Doctor nodded, then yelped as Oswald suddenly grabbed ahold of his lab coat, pulling him down to his level and staring him straight in the eyes, his expression dead serious.

"So, you're sayin' the piece of Blot in him is harmless?"

"That's correct."

Oswald's grip tightened. "And you're absolutely sure it's not dangerous?"

The Mad Doctor nodded. "But even if the danger is in his mind, it's very real to him. What happened will only seem to prove it. Self-doubt is a hard thing to defeat, especially alone."

Oswald's gaze drifted over to Mickey. "I don't get it. He's the most successful toon in the world! How can he possibly doubt himself this much?!"

To his surprise, the Doctor only looked at him with a thoughtful expression that almost looked gentle. "Success didn't stop you from doubting yourself."

Oswald's eyes widened at those words, and he slowly let go of the Mad Doctor's coat as they sank in. The Doctor brushed the creases from his white lab coat before continuing.

"Forgiveness from others can be hard to earn, but the hardest one to earn it from is yourself." He shook his head. "And everything that's happened lately certainly wouldn't have helped. We should take care for his state of mind when he wakes."

Oswald gazed at the Mad Doctor for a few moments, still a bit surprised to hear such wise words coming from him, of all people. Oswald then let out a sigh and approached Mickey's unconscious form, shaking his head.

"I can't believe you're doin' this to yourself," he said quietly. "You're such an idiot."

Mickey whimpered as dark shadows hissed all around him, sending feverish chills through his body. The unintelligible but mocking voices made him shake with fear.

No, no... I'm not like that monster... I'm not...

With a gasp, his eyes flew open and he shot upright, only to be rewarded with a sharp ache in his head. Groaning, he closed his eyes again and rubbed it.

"Unh... my head..." A hand was placed on his shoulder, the sudden contact making Mickey jump. Instinctively, he pulled away and examined both arms with frantic eyes, looking for ink drops. "Wh-What's... Did I...?"

"Relax, everything's fine. Ya just passed out for a bit," Oswald assured him. "Listen, the Doc ran a few tests and he says ya got nothin' tah worry about."

Mickey looked up at him, confused now as well as scared. "But... you saw what I did. I controlled that thing! Just like..." He shivered at the memory, and grew even more scared by the ink drops that began rising again.

"Exactly! You controlled it t' save me!"

Mickey stared at him, his mind spinning and hands trembling. Finally, he pulled his knees up to his chest and let out a long, weary sigh. "I barely remember it..."

Oswald stared at him; he'd never seen Mickey look so sad, so afraid. "Mickey, ya got nothin' to be afraid of, trust me."

Mickey's gaze moved back to the floor, his throat tightening as he hugged his legs. "It's me I don't trust."

"Mickey..."

"This whole mess is 'cause of me. Why should anyone trust me?"

"'Cause you're a good toon! C'mon, Mick, you're bein' too hard on yourself."

Mickey glanced at him, then looked off into the distance. "So many times, I... I want to ask Dad what I should do. How I can fix all this. No matter how bad things got, it seemed like he always just knew what to do." Tears glimmered in his eyes. "It's like, for one second I forget, and then I remember he's gone."

Oswald had to work to keep himself from tearing up as well. He knew that same feeling all too well. "Mickey... I know exactly what he'd say."

The mouse's dispirited eyes turned to him again, and Oswald gave him a sad smile. "He'd tell ya t' stop doubtin' yourself so much. And then he'd tell ya a story of how everyone used to doubt him and how he'd never have made it if he let it get to him."

That finally brought a slight smile to Mickey's face. "Heh... yeah." Chuckling, he wiped his eyes. "Y'know, he used to say no matter how many people told him it wouldn't happen, he'd never give up."

Oswald nodded. "Yeah, and I know he'd want you to do the same. He'd tell ya it's never too late t' try again."

Mickey's smile widened. Somehow, Oswald had a way of making him feel better in the same way that Walt used to. He let out a quiet sigh. "Thanks, Os."

The rabbit smiled back and gave him a light thump on the back of his head. "No problem. Someone's gotta keep that rock-hard head in line."

Mickey couldn't stop himself from smirking. "Hope I wasn't out too long... Oh, what about the generator?"

"Don't worry, I got it while you were takin' your little nap."

Mickey gave a slight chuckle. "Great, now the Doc can find the main power source."

Oswald nodded, glancing over at the Mad Doctor, who was absorbed in his work. "Hey, while he's workin' on that, how about we go grab some ice cream? My treat."

Mickey stood and cracked his back, then gave Oswald a hand up. "Sounds good to me." His old grin appeared. "I think we could both do with a break."

Oswald smiled and gave a wave to the Mad Doctor as they headed outside. "We'll be back in a bit, Doc!"

They then headed down a path through the grassy hills to Mean Street. Since Wasteland had been restored and it was such a short distance, the projectors weren't always needed for traveling. After a bit of walking, Oswald heard a soft sigh and looked to see that Mickey's eyes had grown distant. He was smiling, but there was a strange sadness in it.

"Mickey," he said, making the mouse jump, much to his amusement. "Still a bit sleepy?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah..." Mickey gazed off into the distance, looking almost as if he were somewhere else. "It's just... me and… and Dad…" he said softly, "We used to do this all the time back home. Just walk, looking at everything, talking about what could happen next… "

"He did that with you too, huh?" Oswald said softly.

Mickey glanced over to see the rabbit gazing off into the distance with a very similar nostalgic look. "So that's why…" he said quietly. Oswald looked at him with a confused look and Mickey began to explain. "Sometimes, he seemed sad. Like he was remembering something he missed a lot. When I asked, he said he was just thinking of things he couldn't do before. I didn't understand then, but now… I think it was you."

"Me...?" Oswald uttered in surprise, his ears perking up.

Mickey placed a hand on the rabbit's shoulder and his smile grew a little wider. "Yeah," he said. "I think he missed you."

Oswald looked away. "I doubt it," he spoke in a soft, sad tone, his ears drooping a bit. "If he did, he wouldn't have forgotten me." His eyes became a bit glossy.

"No," Mickey said, an utter, almost fierce determination in his eyes, "He'd never forget. Never. I might not know a lot about what happened before me, but I know this much: He loved us, all of us, and I know that with all I got in me." A distant, sad smile crossed his face. "And I still feel it."

Oswald suddenly stopped, a bit of frustration beginning to boil up inside him. "Well, I don't," he grumbled.

Mickey immediately drew back his hand and stepped back, ink dripping upward rapidly from his body as his eyes grew dark with anger. "Don't you dare say he didn't care!"

"Why not? It's the truth!" Oswald shot back.

"YOU'RE WRONG!" Mickey's dripping ink surged, almost looking like bristled quills on his back. Without even thinking, he pulled out the brush and shot a blast of Thinner directly at the rabbit. Oswald cried out in pain as he was soaked in the acid-like substance, his body melting down into nothing more than a formless puddle.

As Mickey stared down at the puddle, the reality of what he had just done suddenly sunk in. He began trembling all over, his eyes stretched wide with shock and horror. His hands were shaking so hard, he barely managed to shoot some Paint in order to reconstruct Oswald.

The rabbit coughed, propping himself up by his arms as his body reformed.

"I... I..." Mickey backed away. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry..."

Oswald reached out toward him. "Mickey, I—"

"N-No!" The mouse stumbled back, away from Oswald. "Don't! S-Stay away from me!" Mickey's eyes darted around, panic blurring his mind so completely he couldn't think. Whirling around, he took off down the path. All he could think was that he had to get away from here... he couldn't hurt anyone else.

"Mickey, wait! Where're ya goin'?!" Oswald stumbled to his feet and took off after him. Mickey whirled around, and Oswald found himself knocked to the ground by a faceful of Paint. When he scrubbed off his eyes and looked up, Mickey was gone.