Learning To Swim
Chapter One: The Talk
Disclaimer: I do not own Wander Over Yonder. Why…is it for sale?
Here it is, my sequel to "Taking The Plunge." Hater has admitted to himself that he has feelings for most hated enemy, Wander. But that's just the beginning. How will he behave around Wander now, especially when there are others around, and what exactly is he going to tell Peepers?
Thank you to everyone who read and commented on the first installment to this series. Your encouragement really helps me to keep up with my writing, even when I'm busy.
I hope you enjoy the new entry in this little galactic love story.
Lord Hater was the Monarch of Mayhem, the Duke of Destruction, the Greatest Villain in the Galaxy. When he arrived on a planet, the citizens ran screaming or cowered in fear as his watchdogs marched out to take control. His war ship and his battle-hardened army were known and feared far and wide. His name was spoken with dread and respect and the citizens of the planets he controlled obeyed his every command lest they suffer for their disobedience. Not to mention his awesome lightning powers and his sweet band.
And sure, he might be experiencing some…setbacks right now. Other villains were muscling in on his turf, more and more all the time it seemed, conquering planets after he'd already conquered them, or in Dominator's case, blowing them up, and outstripping him daily on the villain leaderboard, especially as his last few attempts to conquer planets had been less than successful. He was falling further behind, making it an all the more daunting task to retake his spot at the top.
Then there was Wander, the little fuzzy orange…whatever he was, with his banjo and his stupid green hat, his hugs and his songs and his ever-cheerful can-doitude. In Hater's list of setbacks, Wander had always been right at the top, somehow eclipsing all the other frustrations in his life. He'd tried to kill the pest over and over, enough to drive him to distraction without Wander ever gaining a scratch. He'd been Hater's most despised enemy for almost two years, but a few things had happened recently that had changed his feelings towards the nomad and left Hater unsure where to classify him. Wander was still certainly an obstacle to Hater's conquering, though, regardless of what had changed.
Still, despite all the setbacks and all the confusion, Hater remained firm in his opinion. He was the greatest. No petty hinderances could dampen the amazing awesomeness that was himself. Lord Hater: Number One Superstar. Soon the doubters and competitors alike would understand his true power and fall before him as he rose to finally become the ruler of the galaxy.
Then why, he wondered, was he standing here nervously outside the control room of his ship like a child who'd gotten into trouble, scuffing his sneakers on the polished floor and dithering back and forth instead of striding in confidently as he usually did?
It was all Wander's fault, as usual.
After everything that had happened the night before on Clathor VI, Hater had retired to his room on the skull-ship. Despite the chaotic way the evening had ended, he still felt strangely relaxed. It had taken him a while to fall asleep, and he'd lain awake for a time, just watching the dark ceiling above him and thinking, but it hadn't been the annoying kind of lying awake, but instead rather peaceful. He felt unusually content. His sleep, when he finally drifted off, had been deep and fulfilling. If he had dreams, he didn't remember them.
This morning, however, reality had crashed into him again with the force of an exploding planet.
He'd kissed Wander. He'd kissed him. That had undeniably happened, and yet Hater sat in bed for a few minutes upon waking trying to come to terms with the fact. It wasn't like he could explain it away either. It hadn't been an accident, and Wander hadn't tricked him into it or anything. All he'd done was hug the overlord, which he admittedly did all the time. Hater could have pried him off as he'd done so many times before.
Instead, he kissed him.
And he'd wanted to do it again.
Grop help him, he still wanted to do it again.
Hater buried his head in his hands as memories ran through his mind.
He wanted to hold Wander close to him again, feel the softness of his coat, the rapid beating of his heart. He wanted to feel the delicate fuzz of his lips and see those big, trusting eyes looking up at him. He remembered when he'd leaned in again right before they were interrupted, and the look on Wander's face that seemed equal parts surprised joy and shy desire. His half-lidded eyes, the scent of his breath as he'd whispered…
Even now, alone in his bedroom, Hater could feel himself grow warm at the memories. His heart felt like it was beating slightly faster and he felt energized, sparks flowing through him to somewhere deep down in his core.
He shook the feeling off with difficulty. He had to figure out what he was going to do.
Hater wasn't an idiot. He knew Wander shouldn't be anything to him but his most hated enemy. That was something that had been eating at him all along, as soon as he realized he could no longer bring himself to kill the little pest. Over the past two years, hating Wander had become as much a part of Hater as conquering planets, and it felt just as important to him. The annoying nomad occupied his thoughts frequently. Hater had daydreamed about finally putting an end to the fuzzy nuisance, seeing Wander's cheerful grin finally fall away, replaced by fear and pain before his ultimate demise. After a while, and many many failures, Wander's death had stopped being something Hater expected to happen. The nomad always seemed to get the better of him, even when he didn't seem to by trying, and plot as Hater might, it got harder and harder to imagine that changing.
Still, he'd continued trying, until he'd finally had the scruffy vagabond exactly where he'd wanted him, in the path of the Disaster Blaster 5000, and he hadn't even been trying to escape.
And Hater hadn't been able to kill him, hadn't even managed to sit back and let Wander die. He hadn't wanted Wander to die.
So he'd saved him instead.
Now, after Wander's weird, yet kind if pleasant, visits to him over the past week, as well as everything that had happened at the fair yesterday, Hater found himself in an unprecedented situation.
He…didn't hate Wander any more. That was pretty evident, he felt. Sure, the nomad could still be annoying, but…well…he could also be kind of fun to be around, Hater supposed. They'd had a good time at the fair, at any rate, which was not something Hater had ever imagined possible. Not to mention the revelation that Hater might possibly have some kind of feelings for the fuzzy little weirdo.
He wanted to see Wander again, not to chase him around trying to destroy him, not to torture him into submission or throw him in a cell deep down in the skull-ship. He wanted to spend time with Wander and well…do things with him.
And that left Hater feeling strangely adrift. If he no longer hated Wander, if he might, in fact, be feeling something that was pretty close to the opposite of hatred, what did that mean?
It could certainly cause problems with other villains. Yes, Wander had been his most hated enemy, but he certainly hadn't been the only galactic conqueror who wanted revenge on the nomad for some indignity or other. Emperor awesome, Sourdough, Li'l Bits; all of them and probably plenty more villains had run afoul of Wander before and would certainly try to kill him if they encountered him again. The nomad definitely seemed to have a knack for angering villains.
And those villains would certainly notice if Hater stopped trying to kill Wander, if he retired his bounty on the nomad and they started hanging out and going places in public together. Hater had a reputation to uphold as the biggest, baddest villain ever. Spending time with Wander without attempting to destroy him would be a serious blow to Hater's street cred, and one he couldn't really afford, especially right now.
Even worse, Wander seemed to have a growing reputation of his own with the rest of the galaxy. He was known everywhere just as Hater was, only in Wander's case he was known for being everything good and kind and helpful. Hater had even heard him referred to as the 'Friendliest Face in the Galaxy.' Wander was like a bright ray of sunshine in the galaxy Hater was trying to plunge into darkness, and growing brighter all the time. The two of them simply didn't work together as anything other than enemies. They should be enemies. What Hater was feeling now for Wander didn't make any sense. It couldn't possibly work out. It had been bad enough when Hater had only thought he'd stopped hating Wander, and that maybe it would be alright for them to hang out together sometimes. This was much worse.
He didn't know what he should do, or maybe the problem was that he knew what he should do, but didn't want to do it. He should forget all about last night. He should act like everything was normal, and the next time Wander showed up with his sparkling eyes and his shy little smile Hater should destroy him, once and for all.
But he knew he wasn't going to do any of that.
And that was why he was doing this.
Now, here Hater was, about to keep his promise to Peepers and tell his commander what had happened last night, or at least a slightly edited version. He was determined to keep any mention of his lip-locking with the fuzzy weirdo out of it, at least for now. Telling Peepers that he no longer wanted to destroy Wander was going to be difficult enough. Yes, Peepers had wanted Hater to focus more on conquering and stop chasing Wander around every time he showed up, but this certainly wasn't what the watchdog had had in mind. Peepers undoubtedly still viewed Wander as an enemy, and he probably wasn't wrong to do so. After all, it wasn't like Wander was going to stop being around or showing up to distract them from conquering. In fact, if Hater wasn't going to chase him anymore and maybe was even thinking about doing…other things with him, he'd probably be around more than before.
Maybe that was also something he shouldn't mention to Peepers at the moment.
Taking a deep breath, Hater pushed the door open and strode into the control room, shoulders squared and glower firmly in place.
Peepers was already inside, of course, and likely had been long before Hater got here. He was typing calculations into the lighted board in front of him, but when he heard Hater's footsteps, he entered the final few digits of whatever he was typing, then turned sharply to face his boss. Hater fought to keep his expression firm.
"Good morning, sir," Peepers said with a salute. "We've begun our approach to Dresnor, and should be there in about twenty minutes. Our window for conquest is still holding, so we shouldn't have too much trouble with our initial landing."
"Oh, uh, right." Hater fumbled slightly as he focused on what Peepers was saying. What with everything that had happened yesterday, and his own paranoid fretting, he'd completely forgotten their invasion plans for the day. Giving his commander a critical glance, Hater saw that his eye was slightly bloodshot, the lid underneath sagging slightly. Peepers had probably been up all night overseeing the journey and making preparations for the approaching conquest. For a moment, Hater entertained the hope that Peepers had been so busy with the preparations that he'd forgotten what the overlord had promised last night, but then Peepers gave him a critical look of his own, eyelid narrowing ominously.
"…Which should give you just enough time to explain what the glob you were thinking last night!"
Hater sighed. That was one hope dashed. Still, just because he owed Peepers an explanation didn't mean he was going to let his commander use that tone with him. He drew himself up as much as he could, glare darkening.
"What do you mean, 'what was I thinking?'" he demanded, crossing his arms in a futile attempt to appear in charge of the situation. Unfortunately, he still couldn't quite manage to meet Peepers' eye. "I'm Lord Hater, planetary conqueror. I can think whatever I like. Besides, what's the big deal if I take a little break now and then?"
Peepers bristled, somehow managing to loom over Hater despite their quite substantial height difference.
"'Taking a little break' is one thing sir, although it certainly wasn't the best time for that, but that's beside the point anyway. You vanished, without any backup or any kind of exit strategy, and you had the audacity to tell me you were going on a date. Just what were you doing on Clathor VI with Wander?"
Hater shrunk slightly under Peepers' accusing glare, his shoulders slumping forward. Excuses stuck in his throat. But Peepers wasn't done yet.
"You can't answer me, can you?" he pressed when Hater remained silent. "You don't want to tell me because we both know what you were doing. You lured him out there to try to destroy him again, didn't you? Even after that disaster at Boomapalooza!" The watchdog's voice quivered slightly on the last word, and Hater was alarmed to see wetness forming in the corners of his eye. He wasn't going to start crying again, was he?
"No, Peepers," he started guiltily, hands raised as though to wave off the watchdog's suspicions. "That's not…"
"Really, sir?" Peepers cut him off. He sniffed, his hands clenched at his sides. His voice trembled with stifled emotions. "We had a perfect plot to bring the Hater empire back into contention and you ruined it to plan some stupid destruction ceremony for you and that walking carpet. Now we're about to conquer a planet that no villain has ever succeeded in taking and you sneak off with him again. Oh, I know how you think, sir! You probably pretended to be his friend or something to get him to go there with you. He's so much of sap he probably ate right into that, didn't he? And you took him off the ship because you knew I'd get in the way of your scheme. It's always about him, isn't it, sir?" Peepers demanded. "Our plans don't matter, conquering planets doesn't matter, I certainly don't matter, just so long as you can chase that furry freak around the place even when you know you're never going to get him. He's always going to run rings around you no matter how many weapons of mass destruction you throw at him, and I'll have to pick up the pieces every single time!" Peepers paused for breath, jabbing an accusing finger at Hater's face. "You're never going to destroy Wander, and if you keep ignoring our plans to go after him it's this empire that you'll end up destroying!"
"Enough!" Hater roared. Green lightning cracked around him, striking the floor and narrowly avoiding the delicate equipment embedded in the control panel. Ceiling lights crackled green before shattering. "I don't want to destroy Wander anymore!" The words echoed through the now darkened room, frustration clear in Hater's voice. He froze as soon as the words had left his mouth. Peepers had recoiled slightly at the overlord's outburst. Now he seemed to freeze as well, pupal shrinking as he locked eyes with Hater. They stared at each other for a long moment.
"You don't?" Peepers asked. His voice was quiet. He looked confused, but Hater must have sounded sincere enough that his commander didn't seem to disbelieve him.
"No, I…I don't." Hater spoke quietly as well. He was feeling very put upon. It had just occurred to him he'd missed a perfect opportunity to explain away his trip with Wander and let everything continue as it had. Still, maybe it was better the truth had come out now, since he'd more or less come to terms with the fact that he wanted to see the little nomad again. Otherwise, they'd be having this same conversation the next time the he showed up for a visit, and it probably wouldn't be any easier then. He continued after a moment, trying to feel his way through the words.
"I sort of stopped wanting to destroy him after everything at the destruction ceremony. I haven't chased him around once since then."
"Well, that's something, I suppose, though I'll believe it when I see it." Peepers muttered dryly under his breath, before looking pointedly at his boss once more. "Then, what exactly were you doing with him last night? Don't try to tell me that you didn't sneak away from the ship with the little vagabond. I have it on very reliable authority that you left the ship together." Peepers' voice was slightly accusatory, but still soft, and he at least sounded prepared to listen.
Hater sucked in a deep breath, ribcage swelling. He was having trouble meeting his commander's eye again, and had to forcibly clench his hands to stop them from fidgeting.
"Yeah, well," he tried, voice as casual as he could make it. If he was lucky, Peepers wouldn't notice how every word was being forced out from between clenched teeth. "I really did need a break from…from everything. You know how it is, so I…we…went to see the fair."
"You went to see the fair?"
"Y-yeah, I did."
"With Wander?"
"I said yes!"
"And you weren't trying to destroy him or anything?"
"Grop, Peepers!" Hater snapped. He was growing impatient with the repeated questions, especially since his actual confession still remained unsaid. "I said I went there with Wander. You already heard me!"
"Yes, I heard you." Peepers' voice sounded frustrated as well. "But forgive me if I'm having some trouble believing it. If you've stopped obsessing over the little twerp then that's good, but that's not what it sounds like if you're ditching an invasion to take off after him!"
"Well, maybe I haven't!" Hater snapped. "Stopped obsessing, I mean." There was a long silence. Hater found himself once more shrinking under his commander's eye, feet rubbing together nervously. Now that he thought of it, what he'd said was true. It wasn't like not wanting to kill Wander had made him think about the nomad less. If anything, it felt like Wander occupied his thoughts even more than he had before all of this started.
"You're not over him." Peepers' voice was frighteningly neutral.
Hater shrugged slightly, gaze sliding away from Peepers and across the darkened room.
"But you don't want to destroy him any more." It wasn't a question, but Hater still felt compelled to answer.
"Yeah, I don't."
There was another pause, the silence stretching out over both of them. Peepers' gaze narrowed on Hater as though the watchdog were trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Then the eye widened before Peepers slapped a hand to his lid.
"Glorn almighty, don't tell me you're actually friends with the creep!"
"What? No!" Hater raised both hands defensively, waving them in denial. "We're not friends, we just…" he trailed off before forcing himself to finish. "We're just maybe not enemies anymore."
The silence was back, and this time it wasn't just awkward, but slightly oppressive.
"Excuse me," Peepers said quietly. "Not enemies?" His voice was low but crisp and cold like sheet ice snapping under pressure. He continued after a moment of receiving no response, his voice rising slightly after each word. "We are talking about the same smelly hippy who's foiled our plans over and over for the past two years, correct? The same scruffy vagabond who's humiliated you time and time again? The same annoying pest…I just want to be clear here, sir," he interjected, "who plays a stupid banjo and hands out sandwiches at the slightest provocation? The…."
"I get it, Peepers, Grop!" Just like that, Hater was back to yelling.
"No, I don't think you do, sir!" Peepers was yelling now too.
"Flab drassit, Peepers! This is hard for me, okay?"
"Well, it's not exactly easy for me either, sir!"
"Look." Hater calmed his voice with an effort. "We went to the fair. We hung out. It was fine. He wasn't even that annoying, for once. That's it! Can we talk about something else now?"
"Sir, I don't think you understand…"
There was a hesitant knock at the door and both villains turned abruptly, neither wanting any bystanders to what exactly they were discussing.
"Yes? Who is it?" Peepers asked, ire now directed at the closed door and thankfully away from Hater for the moment. The door opened slowly, a watchdog poking his eye uncertainly through the small gap.
"Uh, it's Dean, sir." The watchdog didn't move from his sheltered position behind the door. "You, uh, asked all the soldiers to gather in the briefing room before we arrived at Dresnor, commander Peepers."
"Right." Peepers massaged his eyelid with one hand, as though trying to bring his focus back to their invasion plans. "Lord Hater and I will be right there, Dean. Just tell everyone to wait until we get there, and close the door after you." Dean nodded, making good his escape as soon as the commander finished. The door clicked shut, and Peepers' focus snapped back to his boss.
"Well, guess we'd better get in there!" Hater said hopefully. He turned towards the door, one leg raised to take a step, but froze as Peepers spoke from behind him.
"Lord Hater, sir." Peepers' voice was calm, but certain. Hater turned to find his subordinate looking at him seriously. "We can leave this here for now, but we will be continuing this conversation after we conquer Dresnor." He paused for a moment then continued with clear disdain in his voice. "Assuming, of course, that your not-enemy Wander doesn't show up to foil us again."
Hater swallowed thickly. He would have liked to retort, but there didn't seem to be anything he could say. Peepers was essentially correct. Just as Hater didn't plan to stop conquering, Wander was probably still going to show up and try to distract him most of the time. And Peepers was right about another thing. They would have more to talk about later. But for now, he took the reprieve for what it was, sweeping out the door ahead of his commander.
As he strode down the corridor, Hater tried to get himself back in the mindset of a conqueror. He didn't want to show weakness in front of his army, or in front of the draxa-gorgons or whatever they were called. He had to show everyone he was still in control, even if he didn't feel like it at the moment.
Game face firmly in place, Hater stepped through the double doors into the briefing room to the obligatory thunderous applause.
His conversation with Peepers had not gone well, and Hater was not looking forward to when it resumed. He wished things didn't always have to be so hard for him, but he supposed it made sense in this case. Wander had always caused him problems, right from their very first meeting. He shouldn't expect that to change just because he was no longer enemies with the little fuzzball. With a final sigh, he pushed the argument with his commander to the back of his mind, trying to focus on Peepers' briefing, at the very least so he'd know when to make his dramatic entrance.
He was the Greatest in the Galaxy, after all. If things were difficult, he'd just have to buckle down and do them anyway, and be totally awesome at the same time. That was one thing, he was certain, that was never going to change.
Thanks for reading!
Poor Hater, he's so conflicted.
We should hear from Wander and Sylvia in the next chapter. Peepers isn't the only person who deserves an explanation. Their heart to heart will likely go at least a little better than Hater's conversation with Peepers.
And we're coming up on my take on "The Fremergency Fronfract" in the next chapter or two. Hope you guys like it. It's going to be a pretty different situation.
As always, leave me some comments if you like. I love hearing from you!
See you soon!
