Learning To Swim

Chapter Eleven: The Resignation

Peepers has handed in his resignation and left the skull-ship without a word. What will Hater do? Well, he does know someone who is very good at helping others…

Looks like this story made me update it next lol! This chapter really wouldn't leave me alone.

So glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter, and sorry to leave you with a bit of a cliffhanger! It sounds like Peepers' actions came as quite a surprise. We should be getting some time with him this chapter and hopefully we will get some insight into what exactly he's thinking.

See you at the bottom!

"So, I take it things went…well?"

"They went amazing!"

Sylvia winced slightly at Wander's high-pitched exclamation. The little nomad was practically vibrating with joy, bouncing in her saddle and grinning so widely she worried his face might split in half.

"Well, that's good to hear." She tried for a smile, but it was more like a grimace. She glanced back at him critically. "You have fun? Hater keep his hands to himself?"

"Sylvia!" Wander wagged an admonishing finger at her. "He was a perfect gentleman!"

"We are talking about Lord Hater, right?"

"We had a lovely time," Wander continued primly, as though she hadn't spoken. "We had a nice dinner, watched a rather unfortunate movie together, an' ate dessert in front've the fire. It was very pleasant."

"And…" Sylvia paused, trying to find the best way to fish for some details, though she wasn't sure she wanted to hear them. "Was it a date?"

Wander's smile softened. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked past her at the distant stars.

"Yeah," he said softly. "It was."

"Okay, well, that's…good," Sylvia repeated. She felt a little at a loss. This really wasn't a situation she was comfortable with, or one she felt prepared to handle. At least Wander was happy.

It had felt like an awfully long time waiting in the food court after her confrontation with Peepers, watching the clock and trying to ignore the stares from passing watchdogs. And trying to ignore her protective instincts, the ones that needled her more insistently with every hour that passed, that whispered warnings to her that she had to constantly brush away. They whispered that anything could be happening behind those closed doors, they asked what reason she had to trust Hater after all the times he'd tried hurt Wander, all those times he'd hunted them down and captured them, and they made very valid points about the time she'd had to go on a date with Hater and how he'd acted when things weren't going his way.

Yes, she'd agreed to this; Wander hadn't really left her much choice, but she had agreed and yes, she was nearby in case Wander needed her, but she wasn't close enough to see or hear anything. There was no way for her to tell if he was actually in trouble, and it wasn't like he could even call if he needed her. On the off-chance that this was all an elaborate trick and Hater had captured her buddy and dragged him off to the torture room, she'd have no idea. And if Hater was trying to pressure Wander into a compromising situation, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

She kept telling herself to trust Wander's instincts. He'd been right last time, after all. He and Hater had been together at the fair and nothing had happened. Still, it had gotten harder to hold onto that thought as the time ticked later and later.

Knowing how distracted Wander could get when he was around Hater, she had gotten her buddy to agree to a timeline beforehand, as well as an ultimatum. Wander had to meet her by one o'clock, or she was going in to get him. At about 12:45, she left the food court and headed for their meeting place, just inside the ship's mouth. She waited there anxiously until there were only a few minutes to go before the deadline. Then relief had swept over her when she finally spotted the little nomad heading towards her, with Hater stalking sourly by his side.

Wander had still looked happy, which she noted carefully. If he hadn't been, her ladies would have had something to say to Hater before they left. As it was, she just waited awkwardly as her friend gave the overlord's hand a squeeze and promised to see him again soon. Hater had looked uncomfortable, grumbling and shooting her annoyed glances, but Wander hadn't been bothered, and it had seemed like general Hater-y grumbling to Sylvia.

Then they were heading off in their orble through the ship's mouth, Wander waving happily and Sylvia trying to sort out her feelings.

She was still trying to sort them out now.

With a sigh, she guided their orble lower, landing on a small planet, a green one with lots of trees. Wander hopped off of her back and began to get a fire going as she scouted around the impromptu campsite for any dangers or hazards. She didn't want anything surprising them during the night, not after the emotionally exhausting day she'd had.

When she returned, Wander was seated on a rock by the blaze, playing some soft, looping melody on his banjo, hatted head swaying gently to the music as he watched the stars overhead. He smiled at her as she came up, fingers never pausing on the strings.

"Ya wanna call it a night, Sylvia? You look a li'l bushed."

"Yeah, we probably should." She looked at him carefully. She had the distinct feeling there were still some things he hadn't told her about the evening, though she wasn't sure they were things she wanted to hear. "Anything else happen tonight I should know about?"

Wander's fingers stilled, the last note jangling into nothing. He seemed to be thinking before turning to her, smile slightly shy under the brim of his hat.

"We-ell, we did have a bit of a chat together, an' we decided we'd like ta get together like that again, fairly regularly, I mean. We didn't jus' go on a date, we started dating." He looked up at her, eyes big with wonder. "Guess it's my turn to plan somethin' for next time, huh? I still can't quite believe it…"

There it was.

Wander looked a little hesitant, not embarrassed, but as though he was still going through everything in his mind, and Sylvia decided not to push him further. Instead, she gave his bangs a ruffle, settling down on a comfortable piece of ground by the fire and curling her tail around herself.

"Good for you, buddy," she encouraged with all the enthusiasm she could muster. "I'm happy for you. I know how much you like the guy." Though she still wasn't entirely sure why. "Now, we really should get some sleep if we're going to the Vrathex system tomorrow. Hop on." She felt Wander settle onto her back, pulling his hat off and climbing inside. His familiar weight was soothing, and she felt herself finally relax. Nobody was getting to her pal while she was here. Wander wrapped his arms around her neck in a quick hug.

"Thanks, Sylvia," he whispered. "I know this wasn't really yer cup a' tea, an it means tha world ta me that ya came along with me anyway."

"Any time, buddy," Sylvia whispered back, and she meant it. No matter how uncomfortable it made her, or what reservations she had, she would always be here to support Wander, just like he was always there for her.

Morning.

Morning was usually a fairly relaxing time for Sylvia. It sometimes took a little while for her to wake up, and Wander was usually pretty considerate about letting her sleep if she needed it. He'd amuse himself while he waited, cooking or helping some locals. Then they would have breakfast together, pack up the camp, and head off for whatever destination they had in mind for the day. There were variations of course, whenever Wander got captured by Lord Hater or found an excuse into spending the day solving the problems of everyone in a ten-mile radius, but for the most part, their morning routine was fairly relaxed.

This wasn't usually a part of that routine.

"Where could he have gone?!"

"Hmmm, I dunno." Wander bent over the scarlet paper again, thoroughly scrutinizing the short note. "It doesn't say where he's goin'."

Sylvia took a long drink from her coffee mug. She was leaning back against an instrument panel. Wander and Hater were shoulder to shoulder, bent over the big round table, Wander was actually seated on the table, which allowed their shoulders to be at a similar height.

Papers were scattered all across the room, and in Sylvia's expert opinion, it looked like Hater's first action on finding his commander missing was to overturn everything, including probably looking for him under the piles of papers. He had called them shortly thereafter, Sylvia waking up to her phone ringing and Hater's panicked demands that Wander 'get here right now and fix this.' The room was tilted slightly to one side; a result of Hater's poor parking job above the little planet where they had had their campsite. All in all, it didn't look like he was taking it very well.

This whole thing was a little much so early in the morning. Sylvia had rather hoped they'd have a few days before getting pulled back into this madness again. Not that she should have been counting on that.

"But he can't leave! He works for me! I should fire him for this!"

Sylvia rolled her eyes, already out of patience with the entitled brat of an overlord. Still, she supposed she might as well lend her assistance while she was here. Wander certainly wasn't going to agree to leave until the found the former commander, and much as she didn't want to admit it, their confrontation last night might have contributed to this decision, though she privately thought something like this was inevitable if Wander and Hater had actually started dating.

She strolled up to the table, glancing over Wander's shoulder at the note. It was strictly professional, short and to the point without an ounce of useful information. Wander looked up at her, eyes huge and watery, hands clasped together.

"Isn't it awful, Syl? I knew Mr. Peepers was havin' a rough time an' needed someone to talk to. Maybe I shoulda tried harder to get him to understand las' night. We just gotta find him. Poor Hatey's just devastated!"

"I am not!" Sylvia yanked Wander back towards her as lightning crackled around the skeleton lord. Hater looked completely upset and frazzled with electricity flickering across his skull and down his arms and his eyes wide and bloodshot. At some point he must have been messing with his hood and it had gotten pulled around to the front somehow and was hanging under his chin. Calming down slightly, Hater crossed his arms, eyes sliding away from them and across the messy room. "It's not like I'd miss him or anything, and I can totally run this place by myself. If anything, Peepers just gets in my way. But he's not allowed to quit, not unless I say so. Now, are you gonna help or not?"

Sylvia's hand was suddenly empty as Wander darted back to throw his arms around the overlord.

"O'course we'll help ya, Hater! An' I'm sure Mr. Peepers will come around. Once we find him, the two o' you need ta have a big ol' chat an' figure everything out."

Hater glared down at the arms wrapped around him. He still looked pretty upset, but as he didn't look about to throw her buddy off or fry him or anything, Sylvia didn't make a move to intervene.

This wasn't how she usually liked to start her day, but it looked like she was stuck with the situation. And she probably needed to help if they wanted to get anywhere.

"Alright then," she acquiesced reluctantly. "Let's go find a planet database and see if we can figure out where he went. We can access one in the war room, right?"

"Probably," Hater muttered. He was still looking petulantly away, but he did consent to take Wander's hand when the little nomad finally unwound himself from around his waist. Sylvia set off without waiting for them, figuring they could follow her. She couldn't help feeling a little empathy for Peepers despite herself. There had been a lot of weird developments lately, and there were probably a lot more incoming. Grop, she was having trouble with everything and at least Wander would talk to her about what was going on, sometimes in more detail than she would like. It couldn't be easy on Peepers if Hater threw a temper tantrum every time the topic came up.

She wondered where the little eyeball could have gone. It was a pretty big galaxy out there when you were alone.

"Another Drowned Sidekick, and leave the bottle."

"You sure, man? You've had two already."

"Yes, I'm sure! I am perfectly capable of assessing my own inebriation level!"

The bartender shrugged, filling the short, wide glass again, then thunking the bottle down beside it on the countertop. Peepers lifted the glass, examining the bright blue liquid with its floating olive caricature critically in the dim light of the bar, before taking a swig.

Thantarian gin was strong, and he'd sipped hesitantly at first, but now it went down much easier. Not that he was planning to get drunk. That wasn't the best idea right now. Peepers didn't usually drink. His lifestyle was far too hectic to spend much time relaxing in the evening, and drinking would really get in the way of the paperwork he seemed to be constantly catching up with, but sometimes he found himself having a glass or three after a particularly rough encounter with Wander and Sylvia, and he knew his own tolerance pretty well.

He pulled his fedora lower over his eye and his trench coat tighter around the rest of him and, standing up from the bar, only slightly unsteadily, he took his glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, and headed for the darkened booths that lined the sides of the big room, slipping into one and setting his acquisitions on the small, round table.

He hadn't been to Odd Jobs in years; Peepers liked to do his rare drinking in the privacy of his room, and he hadn't expected to ever have to come back here.

Well, now he didn't have a room, or a ship, or underlings to manage and order around, or an overlord yelling and bossing him around, or a villainous empire to serve. It had been quite an achievement to throw away everything he'd spent years building up with one small piece of paper.

He took another long pull from his glass, enjoying the slight burn of the liquid on the way down. The white of his eye felt hot, though he wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or his own painful emotions.

Of course, everything he'd worked for would have been torn down anyway; it just would have taken longer if he'd stayed. He'd seen the signs. As a matter of fact, they'd gotten pretty impossible to ignore. It had been bad enough when Wander and Sylvia were just showing up every week or so to meddle in their business, Hater getting distracted and trying to destroy Wander, or halting in the middle of a briefing and demanding they go tearing across the galaxy to capture the nomad, all of which resulted humiliation and massive amounts of property damage. He'd already been feeling like he was fighting a losing battle trying to keep Hater on track, make up the territory they'd lost because of the furry orange freak and compete with the other villains, especially now that Lord Dominator had shown up and started blowing planets up left and right. It had felt like trying to patch holes in a perforated starship using only bubble-gum.

But now it was so much worse.

He'd seen the writing on the wall, especially after one of his worst enemies had spelled some of it out for him last night. Wander was winning. That was pretty clear. He'd spent all this time driving Hater crazy, making him obsessed, only to finally pull a stunt like this. They'd been off together in some corner of the skull-ship all night, possibly kissing or doing Grop knew what else, and certainly strengthening the nomad's hold on Hater. They'd been having a date on the very ship that been blown up countless times all because of the orange headache. The watchdog gave an involuntary shudder at the mental image, hugging the bottle close to him.

And Peepers hadn't been able to do anything. The Hater Empire's most hated enemy, for whom absurdly large bounty posters had been spread all across the galaxy, the stupid fuzzy pain in the neck himself, had finally succeeded in wrapping Lord Hater completely around his fingers, so much so that Lord Hater had actually berated his commander for even kidnapping the pest; something Hater had been obsessively trying to do only a couple of weeks ago.

Peepers wasn't an idiot; unlike certain others he could name. He could see how this was going to continue. Wander was certainly going to be around much more from now on; playing that flarping banjo during briefings, starting games of tag or hide and seek in the skull-ship and hugging and making small talk with all of the watchdogs that should be part of the most impressive army in the galaxy. Not to mention the dumpy zbornak hanging around, making sarcastic comments and decking anyone who laid a hand on her pal.

And Hater was going to let it all happen, all because of his ridiculous infatuation with the scruffy, unkempt, revolting hairy dishrag he should be trying to destroy.

This was it. Their reputation as villains had been hanging by a thread as it was. Now, they would be the laughing stalk of every villain they'd ever faced off against. So much for conquering planets and spreading fear and hate throughout the galaxy. They would be done with all of that eventually. Wander would make sure of it.

Would Hater even care, he wondered, or would he be too wrapped up in his obsession to even see anything that was happening around him and notice how far they'd fallen?

Another shudder. Another gulp of the strong liquor.

And Peepers? Well, his only options seemed to be to continue fighting this all on his own and continue getting yelled at by his boss for trying to save their reputation as legitimate villains to be reckoned with, or to throw in the towel. Which was what he was doing. It really did seem like the most logical course of action under the circumstances.

An electronic cackle cut through the general murmur of the bar's patrons and the background music, and Peepers glanced up to watch a group of small aliens of various species' who were clustered around the minion tester. He scoffed, resting his eye on one hand, watching as a young vristrar stepped up to the lighted machine, putting a coin in the slot and taking the well warn handle in both gloved hands. The machine dinged, neon flames shooting partway up the animatronic armored villain perched on top, only to stop well below his glowing red crown. The electronic voice cackled again.

"You are nothing, fool!" it roared, metal jaw moving out of sync with the words, and the vristrar stepped back, shoulders slumping while his friends jeered.

Peepers looked away again, out over the main part of the bar. Odd Jobs was always busy. There was the usual strange combination of slightly too loud music and cheesy attractions for up-and-coming villains just getting their start and eager would-be minions looking for employment, and dark, secluded corners perfect for discussing private business. Peepers had only frequented it a few times in his younger days, and it hadn't been here that he'd met Lord Hater for the first time, although it had been where he'd heard of the skeleton lord.

Peepers' eye burned and he tightened his grip on his glass. No, he didn't want to think about all of that now, not about his own idyllic younger self, bursting with wicked ambition and energy, nor about the old days when he and Lord Hater used to coast through the galaxy bullying others in the Hater van, back when the Lord Hater empire was just a glorious idea. Dwell on the old days too long and he was apt to lose control of his emotions, something he did not want to do here.

He wasn't even sure why he'd come except that it was somewhere that was at least slightly familiar in a galaxy which was suddenly big and dangerous now that he was out on his own. He certainly hadn't come here to find work. Despite the professionalism he'd shown in his note to Lord Hater, Peepers found himself not quite ready to move on just yet. He couldn't picture himself working for another villain, making plans for them, commanding their armies and managing their empire. What he and Hater had been doing had really been something special. They'd planned to conquer the galaxy together, and despite it all, that desire still clung to Peepers' heart.

He sighed, blinking back a tear and ignoring the flashing lights and booming electronic voice declaring "Yesss, you shall serve me well!" from behind him as another prospective minion had a go.

It all seemed so pointless. Sitting here and stewing on everything wasn't going to help. Maybe he should finish his drink and then go up to the dingy room he'd rented for the night. Might as well bring the bottle with him too. Crying into his pillow for a few hours before he slept seemed pretty appealing right about now. Tomorrow would be here eventually, after all, no matter how much he wished it away.

He lifted his glass, toasting himself silently and ironically, then paused, peering through the curving glass and blue liquid at the side of the booth across from him. A gasp of horror escaped him, the glass fell from his nerveless fingers, and a furry hand reached out, catching it before it could spill.

"Sorry 'bout that Mr. Peepers! I didn't mean ta startle you." The dreaded voice was soft and apologetic, and when Wander set the glass down again in front of Peepers, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands, the watchdog could see that his eyes were big and sad looking.

Shock at seeing the wanderer was immediately replaced by fury that the cause of all his misery was here witnessing him at his lowest point. Peepers' eye narrowed and he clenched his hands on the tabletop, though he was mindful to keep his voice down. He didn't want anyone passing by to see him talking to Wander.

"What are you doing here," he spat, trying to stare Wander down but having little success. Wander blinked.

"Lookin' fer you, a'course," he said mildly.

"And how exactly did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't know, silly." Wander sat back in the booth slightly with a smile, one furry finger sliding around the smooth surface of the table as he talked. "Syl an' Hatey are checkin' other nearby planets. We all got a list. Sylvia figured ya couldn't have gone too far since you took a cross-galactic taxi an' those're real expensive. Then when I landed here, I saw this place an' figured ya might've stopped in fer a bite to eat…"

"How did you even get in here?" Peepers demanded, cutting him off and ignoring the explanation for now, though he had a sneaking suspicion Wander knew he wasn't here for the food. "It's only for villains, and you should be captured immediately. They have your bounty poster over the bar!"

"Oh, well, I didn't exactly come in as me." Wander looked slightly sheepish. Sticking his hand up inside his hat, he pulled out a long black moustache, which he put on, smoothing it down before winking across at Peepers.

Peepers slapped his hand to the top of his eye in exasperation.

"You've got to be kidding me. Nobody is going to fall for…"

Wander interrupted him by banging both furry fists on the table, squinting and seeming to puff up.

"Waiter!" he hollered. A big alien lumbered over with a black apron around his waste and Peepers was surprised to see him actually shaking. Sweat ran down his green face past his eyepatch and over several scars. "Get us some curly fries an' make it snappy or Wild Woolly Wander's gonna make heads roll!" Wander growled exaggeratedly, twitching in his seat.

"R-right away, sir!" The waiter held his tray up in front of his face as though hiding behind it, backing slowly towards the kitchen.

"Seriously?" Peepers shook his eye, refusing to believe what he'd seen. "People are actually afraid of that?"

"I guess so." Wander shrugged, taking off the moustache and putting it beside him on the table. He immediately relaxed again, giving Peepers a friendly smile and suddenly reminding the watchdog that sitting across from him was the being whose ridiculous antics had driven him from his home and position, and cost him and Hater a great deal more than that. He crossed his arms, turning away from Wander and looking out again at the busy room.

"Well, you found me, and now you can just bluff your way out the door again and pretend you didn't, or get caught for all I care." He spoke without looking at Wander, hoping the nomad wouldn't be too oblivious to take the hint that he wasn't wanted here. "I'm not coming back, and if I'd wanted to talk to Hater or you," turning briefly to glare at the orange mop before his eye slid away again, "I would have done it on the ship before I left."

Peepers noticed Wander moving out of the corner of his eye, and looked back to find him shifting a little closer on the booth's cushioned seat, though stopping before he got too near. He clasped his hands together on the table and held Peepers' gaze with a look that was strangely earnest for the orange goofball.

"No one's gonna make you come back, Mr. Peepers, not if'n ya don't want to," he started seriously. "An' ya don't have ta talk to me either. I jus' came to see if you could use some company, but I'll leave if you want yer space."

Peepers wasn't sure he believed that. Wander wasn't exactly known for leaving when you told him to. He had an inclination to demand the pest leave and see if he'd actually do as he said, and opened his mouth to say just that, but stopped. Wander was here, and it didn't seem like anyone knew where he was. Peepers could at least take this opportunity to tell the furry freak exactly what he thought of him, and maybe get some information out of him while he was at it. And if he didn't like what Wander had to say, there was no one to stop him from blasting the annoying orange mop right in his stupid face.

Besides, though even torture couldn't force him to admit it, seeing a familiar face, even this familiar face, was slightly preferable to sitting here alone and drinking his sorrows away.

"You can stay for now, I suppose." He said it in the most deadpan way he could manage, but Wander still looked stupidly happy. Talking with Wander might be better than drinking himself into oblivion, but Peepers wasn't about to bet money on it.

Thanks for reading!

More Sylvia and Wander interaction than I expected at the beginning of this chapter, and lots of Sylvia POV. She needed some introspection time before our main drama started.

Poor Peepers. He's certainly had the hardest time during this story. I hope his character makes sense here. He's the one out of the main four I have the most difficult time writing. We'll have to see how his talk with Wander goes next chapter. Hopefully better than their last one.

Never Hurts To Help will probably be my next update, but I am also working on the next chapters for Traveling Companions and Wherever The Wind Takes Me. Or This story might grab me again. It likes to do that.

See you soon!