sweet talk

i carried it well

chapter twenty-four

But it wasn't Skips. Or, at least, his physical form. He was transparent and ghostly, clearer than day. At that moment, however, he was real and the light shining in Mordecai's eyes seemed to dim with the graveness of the other's face. The bird's eyes grew wide, and he felt the need to pester the other with questions, to force answers out of the other. Guilt-trip him maybe, throw a fit. He wasn't sure.

"Skips!" He spoke, and for some reason his voice was hoarse. "Wh--?"

But before he could even ask his first question, the yeti interrupted him, yellow eyes flashing in the transparent form. "Listen, Mordecai," he growled, "I'm going to explain everything. But I don't have much time. Save the questions until the end." It was more of a snap, and Mordecai held Rigby close to his chest, eyes wide.

"Okaay..." he whispered, finally. Eyes glistening in the woods. And then he listened when Skips began speaking again.

"And if you're wondering, I'm not dead. Well, not exactly. But the demon has my actual body. This is just my soul-form. He... he ripped me of my own life, Mordecai. And he wants to do the same to you and Rigby," his voice was firm in the growing night, and Mordecai felt his wings gently tighten around his best friend, in a protective way.

But he didn't ask questions, saving them for later, as the yeti requested.

"Another thing. Yes, the demon is real. He is a type of demon that feeds on mortal's emotions. He takes their prominent emotion, and makes it stronger by ripping them of their other feelings. In Rigby's case, he was angry with himself and angry with others. The demon thrives in this kind of anger-- especially since he is the son of Greed and Envy, making anger his primary emotion-- does that make sense?" Skips' yellow eyes were still yellow in this transparent form, and it flickered with his words.

"Not really," Mordecai admitted. He was quite confused, he realized, but he didn't know what he was confused about. He drew up his gaze to meet Skips'. "So the demon was summoned under Rigby's anger?"

"Yes," Skips answered, "He takes that anger, and makes it stronger by taking away his happiness."

"But that doesn't make sense," Mordecai couldn't help but blurt out, ignoring the other's small narrowing of eyes, "How could he do that if he hasn't even come in contact with Rigby except for one time? And that one time was after--"

Skips interrupted him with an answer. "His aura is stronger around Rigby, yes, but magic works in strange ways, Mordecai. Dark magic especially." The yeti grew soft for a moment, almost sad in a way. "He was drawn to Rigby's emotions. It only makes sense when you see it. That's why you need to fight the demon."

"He... he has you?" Mordecai whispered.

Skips nodded. "He has me. And Margaret..." his eyes grew serious, and he spoke again. "He's trying to draw you in, Mordecai. Since you seem to be the main cause for Rigby's happiness, he wants to take that away so he can have Rigby, too."

Mordecai's eyes widened, and he clutched Rigby closer to his chest. The raccoon didn't seem to stir by this contact, but his heart still fluttered in his chest.

"You need to fight the demon, Mordecai. Together. Because your love may be strong enough to defeat him," Skips explained.

Mordecai looked down. The demon had Margaret. And Skips. And he might have him, too, if it wasn't for Rigby's coaxing. He needed to fight him. They both did. He looked up again, to say something more, to ask how this could possibly be real... but Skips was gone.

The only evidence he was ever there was the night breeze.

Mordecai carefully crouched down, and set Rigby on the leaf-covered ground, gazing at the other. He drew in a small breath, and then spoke. "Rigby, I don't know if you can hear me... you probably can't but--" the blue jay felt tears sting in the back of his eyes, and so he closed them in hopes of drawing them away. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I pushed you away all those times... Skips came to me. He explained what was happening. And... I love you, dude. Nothing can change that. Not even that stupid demon, son of Greed or, whatever. I love you."

And then Mordecai opened his eyes, and it was quiet. Quiet all around, and he hated the silence. He curled his body over Rigby, and he listened for anything. Until he heard it, the thumping of his heart and the soft, shallow breaths the raccoon took with every other thump. It was like music, and Mordecai closed his eyes. Listening.

---

Rigby was in his room, but not the room at the house. He was in his childhood room, the one he has when he was in high school and living with his parents. Sounds were heard all around, and it sounded like he was in a submarine. Fuzzy, distorted, and a small ring in his ears. He curled up on the bed and tried to push these sounds away.

And then, he heard his father somewhere amongst the sounds. He was yelling, but Rigby couldn't tell what. It was nightmarish, because it sounded like the yelling was aimed towards him.

Rigby curled up tighter. Please. Please stop.

The yelling eventually did stop, and when Rigby opened his eyes again, he was still in his room. But it felt like he was floating, and the voices in his head were whispering louder than ever, almost on the verge of yelling like his father.

You are worthless. You are never going to make it.

Mordecai doesn't care.

You are going to die. And your body will burn in the flames of hell.

At this point, Rigby couldn't take it anymore, and he opened his mouth, his breath coming out short, and panicked. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry. Please. Stop it. Stop."

And he was never forgiven.