Friday, June 8

Rigby tossed and turned under his thin blanket on the small trampoline he called his "bed". He kicked off some of the dirty clothes that he never wore off of it, leaving only the small sheet, a pair of pants and a couple of mismatched socks. Once he found a good and comfortable spot, he lay on his right side and stared straight ahead. First, he found the base of the bed, and then found his buddy, Mordecai, sleeping quietly and facing the wall. He looked cozy on the soft mattress, as he always did; and Rigby watched him before going to bed, as he always did.

It is not that Rigby was being a creep or anything of the matter; he just liked watching Mordecai while he was in his "relaxed" state. He did this for almost seven years of their friendship. It calmed his senses, and it was just about the only thing that allowed him to sleep every night.

But suddenly, Rigby was hit with an unexpected sinking feeling deep in his gut. What if Margaret were to suddenly start sleeping there with Mordecai? What if she would take the place at the edge of the bed where his friend slept? Rigby knew how much Mordecai loved Margaret, and he found it annoying. He looked down. The topic was much too heartrending for Rigby to bear even laying a hand on, but his conscience kept on pressing, fluently attempting to shatter his fragile heart into bits.

Rigby loved Mordecai. He loved Mordecai more than just a "bro"; and in all honesty, he never took a liking to Margaret at all. It wasn't primarily the fact that he didn't like her personality, or her looks, or the way she dressed. He just didn't like anything about her. The cardinal had stolen Mordecai's heart from the day the two met in junior high. Rigby had to bear listening to Mordecai mope about how much he disliked her having so many boyfriends for years on end. Rigby hated hearing all that. He hated that Mordecai was jealous of Margaret's friends, not Rigby's. He hated the fact that Mordecai's heart was broken, because he wished he could just hold him and comfort him. He hated that Mordecai wanted to be in a serious relationship with Margaret, and not with Rigby.

And he detested that Mordecai didn't love Rigby the way Rigby loved him.

Of course, Rigby was unsure if Mordecai was gay or not, but he cared in the least. All that he wanted was for Margaret (or for anyone that Mordecai took interest in, for the matter) to get the hell away from his friend. He wanted Mordecai all to himself, even if Mordecai didn't feel the same way towards him. Rigby just wanted - no, needed - Mordecai to know that he loved him with all his heart, and that he did not want /anyone/ to try and split them apart.

Rigby felt a disappointed frown form onto his face while thinking all of this through. He then heard Mordecai's voice (tired, but comforting). He looked up at his friend and managed a small, yet hopeful smile to emerge on his lips. Mordecai had turned to the opposite side of his body than before, facing Rigby. He was sound asleep, and he was smiling.

"M-... Margaret..."

The crack in Rigby's heart only deepened as he heard those three syllables. His expression weakened before he started to weep silently, hoping not to wake his friend up. Warm tears ran across his face and onto the tightly sprung trampoline. He took his blanket into his small paws and wiped away at them, but they just kept coming. He looked up at Mordecai, his vision blurred by tears. It hurt Rigby's heart to see Mordecai smile while thinking about Margaret, but it also helped get rid of his pain; to see him happy. Rigby's face felt hot as he cried harder while he pressed the blanket to his face. How he wished that he was sleeping there with Mordecai, Mordecai's feathered arms around his small body. But alas, as of now, he couldn't. Not until Mordecai felt the same way... If he ever did...

Rigby cried himself to sleep that night.

Saturday, June 9

The next morning, Rigby woke up before Mordecai, but pretended to sleep anyway before his friend emerged from his slumber. This gave Rigby time to hide his tear stains on the blanket. When Mordecai awoke (finally, after about an hour) they trotted downstairs to have cereal. Mordecai looked at the clock, it was 10:26 A.M.

"Dude, Benson's gonna be pissed when he sees how late we slept in!" Mordecai groaned in displeasure.

"Well," Rigby replied, "its better having to listen to him complain than to have to do work so early in the morning..."

"I guess you're right," Mordecai said before looking at his friend, "Hey, Rigby, are you okay?"

"What?"

"Your eyes are kind of-"

When they heard Benson stomp through the entrance of the house, Rigby quickly got the box of cereal out of the cupboard and Mordecai snatched the milk from the fridge. They made a mess trying to pour the food into the bowls they already set out, but ignored it for the time being.

Benson trended the floor until he reached the doorway to the kitchen and yelled, "YOU GUYS HAD BETTER NOT BEEN SLEEPING IN BEFORE YOU CAME IN HERE. IT'S ELEVEN O'CLOCK AND YOU HAVE A BUNCH OF WORK TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE!" His head was a shade of red; that wasn't good.

"Benson, dude, calm down. It's ten-thirty."

"Yeah, and why? Where are you going?" Rigby asked from the table, a spoonful of sugary cereal cramped in his mouth.

"Well," replied Benson, his head turning its natural color, "If you must know, Skips, Pops, and I are going to 'review' other parks to see how much better we are..." Benson smiled triumphantly.

On the inside, Rigby smiled too. He and Mordecai would be able to hang out, watching movies and playing video games and what have you, alone. It would be the perfect chance for him. Margaret... That bitchy little-

"Uh, okay. Then why are you taking Pops with you? He'd be just fine here with us." Mordecai's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Mordecai!", Rigby said and scooted over to him as if Benson were no longer in the room, "This would be the perfect chance for us to party!"

"No! Absolutely no parties! If I can't trust you guys with a simple job like getting me a lemon tree, I doubt you will have the courtesy to even think about how much I would disapprove of a party."

Rigby sighed, "Ugh, fine. No parties, Benny. ...Can you just lend us some extra money to-"

"NO! NO MONEY," Benson was now mad again, "I can't trust you guys with that, either! I pay you enough to get you through the week."

"But we can't even afford freaking cake mix! Come on, Benson!" Mordecai complained.

Benson paused and thought for a moment. He exhaled deeply and said, "... All right, let's do this. I will give you twenty dollars each. You guys can go to the arcade, movies, whatever, but don't screw anything up!"

"Yes!" They replied in unison.

"Just stay out of trouble."

Finally, Rigby would be able to tell Mordecai how he felt... Rigby pumped the air using his fist with an excited "Yes!" and Mordecai noticed his happiness. He smiled a tad at Rigby but the raccoon was too ecstatic to notice. Benson handed them the bills.

"All right guys, you need to get the lawn mowed and you need to clean all of the rooms except for Pops's while I'm gone," Benson was still a tad strict although he was cutting the two some slack, "We'll be back on Tuesday."

"You'll be gone that long?" the avian questioned.

"Yes, Mordecai, I will. I am giving you a minimum of work compared to what I usually give you, so you two slackers better get that done before you forget," Benson took his keys from the counter, ready to head out, "Muscleman and High Fives live right around the corner, remember that."

"Dude, we know. Why would we need them anyway? It's not like they're any more responsible than us," Mordecai replied.

"That's not it, Mordecai."

Rigby was confused, barely annoyed, so he joked, "Hey Benson, have you been smokin' some dope much?" He and Mordecai chuckled jokingly.

"No! God, you two are idiots."

"Then, what is it? It can't be that you trust those two more than-"

"Muscleman has a shotgun."

Silence.

Mordecai was surprised that Muscleman even had the right to a concealed weapon at all. All he ever did was crack dumb "my mom" jokes, hang with High Fives, and suck at Strong Johns. How could he even-?

"...Why can't we have a shotgun?" Rigby asked loudly, as for he quickly grew jealous.

"He has a license and-" Benson stopped and exhaled deeply, "Ugh, never mind. Just... stay out of the way. Please."

"Fine!" Rigby replied.

The two friends smiled at each other. They'd have the house to themselves for two-and-a-half days! And with only two chores to do at the very least! They never got out of work like this since, well, never. Benson walked away slowly, hoping that he wouldn't regret leaving his two groundskeepers alone like this. He grabbed his bag that was waiting at the door for him, once again shouted back, "Behave" (which was responded with an exaggerated "Alright!"), and proceeded to his car, which had Skips and Pops waiting inside.

"Dude, this rocks!" Rigby exclaimed to his friend after he heard the door slam, "We're actually having the whole house to ourselves!"

"I know! Dude, like you said, we need to have a party." Mordecai said, which made Rigby burst out, saying,"No, Benson would kill us of he found out, " He nudged Mordecai with an elbow, "Come on, let's have some bro-time."

"Hey, man, you were the one who suggested the party in the first place!" Mordecai smiled and punched him in the arm. Rigby laughed while replying with an "Owww!", relieved that Mordecai wasn't angry at him for the comment. Rigby was going to recommend slacking off some more before Mordecai suggested they'd at least get the lawn mowed after eating breakfast before Benson got back. Due to his usual laziness, Rigby scowled at his friend's idea, but then decided to compromise, thinking as they walked out the door:

Well, since it's with you, Mordecai...

•••

Rigby hopped onto the lawn mower with Mordecai as he held the handle of the machine after starting the motor. Teamwork was prior when it came to actually wanting to get chores over with. They scanned almost every single acre of the area they were assigned to mow before deciding to take a "quick" break at the local movie rentals. After entering (and a couple arguments and games of rock-paper-scissors over which genre to buy) the two split up, searching for a few good games that they thought were decent enough for playing.

They had played Call Of Duty before in their lives, but never did they play Black Ops or Modern Warfare 2. They just didn't have enough time. And although they didn't have a mic set in order to play live, they could play in regular. Mordecai and Rigby loved playing Strong Johns and Dig Champs a load, but they agreed to open up their minds and play something... fresh, for once. They decided on Modern Warfare 2, and since they heard rumors of how Muscleman (cleverly nicknamed "The Douche bag") played Black Ops day in and day out, playing it was out of the question.

The two allies trotted back to the house and plopped onto the couch. Rigby rested his feet on the coffee table and Mordecai grabbed the remote while saying, "Lets watch some TV before playing... I need a break from video games," He smiled evilly at Rigby, "My thumbs hurt from beating you so much."

Rigby growled in response and said, "I'll beat you in COD, you'll see!"

"Heh, whatever."

The TV clicked on and immediate shouting could be heard from its speakers. These dumb people from Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas; those "cult followers" who hold up signs that say "GOD HATES YOU", or "GOD KILLED YOUR KIDS", or even "DYKE AMERICA", degrading the first amendment as well as disturbing the peace of the noble towns they protested in.

But, even though these entire picket signs were horrible to flaunt out in public, there was one in particular that hit Rigby the most.

"GOD HATES FAGS".

Although Rigby was an atheist, he believed that if there were any "God" that created everyone and everything, he or she would love their creations as they loved themselves. Even if there were a paradise that the dead descended to after passing, those cursed of an eternal life in the Underworld due to their unruly doings is their ruler's decision, not theirs. And that included gays and lesbians and what not.

Rigby wanted so badly to curse at these idiots for being so ignorant to the people surrounding them. Those Westboro-Shitheads were just about the most horrible at being considerate for others. It was never Rigby's fault that he was attracted to the same sex, he was born that way. Not that he hated girls, (Aside from the whore "starve-yourself-in-order-to-look-pretty" models, he hated them. And not to mention the ever-famous and busty Margaret) he just... didn't love them in that way. Nevertheless, he was excellent at hiding his orientation; especially from his best -and only- friend.

Though Mordecai had no idea to which gender Rigby was interested in, he understood why Rigby acted somewhat rude toward most people, even though it pissed Mordecai off to a certain degree. Ever since Rigby's father left his family for reasons unknown, he was always a tad socially awkward. The coon's mother had told Mordecai this reason alone, knowing that he would understand -somehow- that Rigby's personality would never be the same toward strangers. And Mordecai did understand. With Rigby having to be the brother living in the shadow of his younger sibling, and without a father, is a pretty crappy lifestyle.

Rigby's father left his family at a particularly early time. Don was five years old, and Rigby was eight when he fled for reasons unknown. Two and-a-half years later, their father came back. Whenever they had any form of contact, young Don would always question, "Why do you have to leave, daddy? Can't you just stay forever?"

Rigby knew deep in his heart that their dad would never stay. Hell, he left in the first place, didn't he? The little coon made himself admire his father all his life, but for what reason? That's right, none. Their "dad" abandoned his own family, probably for some ghetto skank down south or something. Rigby tried and tried to brainwash himself to detest his dad, but, he knew for a fact that he loved his father with all his heart, even if he made a huge and unforgivable mistake.

Their dad truly loved his sons, and he supported their mother through fluent child support payments, but that couldn't hide the problems he had. During the summer of 1998, when Rigby was ten years old, his father came back to visit one last time. But, he didn't arrive with good intentions. Their father desired to murder their mother for the money that he "wasted" on his children, bringing his hunting knife along with him. Their mother knew pretty good self-defense, however, and called the cops after a few punches were landed on each of them. Their mother was left with a black eye and a deep gash on the side of her left forearm. And while all of this was going on, all Rigby and Don could do was look on from the shadows of their lost childhood.

Still, Rigby hid his sexual preference best by using easy ways out like calling their clerk "babe" at a cheap restaurant, or commenting on some woman's "lady pecs" once in a while. He just couldn't stand telling anyone other than his mother (who taught him to accept all orientations) and Don. He was too afraid that he would be hurt, either physically or emotionally. This was also another part of the reason that Rigby didn't like other people.

But, Rigby thought mockingly, Margaret just has to be the only exception for my "annoying" behavior... being "the most amazing person Mordecai has ever met"...

The small raccoon averted his attention back to the TV. He saw on the screen one of the church's most fluent supporters, Shirley Phelps. She was an ugly and old-looking woman who almost always wore sunglasses outside and just /loved/ to interrupt anyone who would say a word to her about the group's beliefs. Her hair was thin, and colored a mixture of white and gray. Her voice was nasally and shrill. She was disgusting.

Witch… Rigby thought.

Rigby was just about to open his mouth to oppose what was going on inside the TV and suggest changing the channel when the jay beside him unexpectedly interrupted his action.

"God," Mordecai mumbled (almost inaudibly), slumping on the couch, "That bitch is crazy. The whole church is crazy..."

Rigby's ears perked, …what?

"...People can't help the fact that they're gay or straight or whatever... Jesus Christ, those people are idiots. If they're going to Heaven, I hope 'God' sends me to Hell..." Mordecai groaned in displeasure.

Wait, Rigby thought, Is Mordecai actually standing up for gays? Is that what he really believes...? Then... there just might be a chance...

"...-by... Rigby!"

"...Huh?"

"Oh, you were in the zone for a little there. I thought you were dead." Mordecai laughed at his misunderstanding. Rigby must have looked like a loser, with his face red and his eyes faintly glistening with hope. If there were one thing that he wasn't very good at controlling, it'd be his facial expressions.

"...Sorry, Mordecai. I was just thinking about something." Rigby said, snickering through his teeth as an attempt to hide his feelings. Mordecai was only mumbling to himself anyway. Rigby wasn't supposed to hear what he said, but it made him so damn happy that he did. He could feel his heart relax in content as a small fraction of his worry was relieved.

"Well, what?", Mordecai asked.

"What?"

"What were 'ya thinking about?"

Rigby's heart began to jump. He couldn't just flat out tell his broseph that he actually was in love with him. It just wouldn't work that way.

Would it? Rigby's conscience asked dryly.

Rigby grumbled, It wouldn't.

And why do you think that?

'Cause he loves Margaret...

His mind chuckled, You sure?

Rigby paused and found his eyes slowly traveling down to his toes resting on the coffee table.

...Y-yeah. He replied.

"Hey Mordecai..."

"Yeah? What's up?"

Rigby swallowed hard, "I-I..." he trailed off, still looking at his feet.

"You... What?" Mordecai asked, furrowing his brow, confused.

God, spit it out!

Mordecai leaned forward in his seat a little in order to get a closer look at his friend, "Rigby... Are you crying?"

Rigby quietly gasped and placed a paw to his face. Mordecai was right, he /was/ crying. What the hell? Rigby only cried in front of Mordecai a few times, but not for this reason. Rigby gritted his teeth and quickly turned away from Mordecai. He was twenty-three years old... He wasn't going to let his bro see that he was shedding tears so easily, nor was he going to reveal the reason. He responded with a monotone "No."

"Rigby, are you okay?" Mordecai asked, standing up, "You've been acting sort of weird lately. It's like I can't even get to you anymore. Look, if you've got something to say, then just-"

"Why do you love Margaret?"

Mordecai's mouth sealed shut in response. He was astonished. Rigby was going to act like an asshole now? Why was Rigby asking him something like that, and at this time? What the hell was wrong with him?

"...Wh-why are you always butting into my personal life?" was the only response Mordecai could think of.

Rigby looked back at him, clearly frustrated, "Because you're part of my life! You're my best friend. We're supposed to talk to each other, that's what friends do!"

Mordecai was getting angry now, "Well, Margaret isn't any part of your life! And since /when/ do you care about her anyway? I might not know what you're feeling towards her, but-"

Rigby chuckled loudly and glared at his friend, saying, "You want to know how I feel about that bitch...? I'll tell ya', buddy; She's the most annoying, slutty, dumb piece-of-crap I've ever laid my eyes on, and you should stop trying to impress her so damn much! She doesn't even care about you," Rigby smiled, irritated, fire in his eyes, "All she sees when she looks at you is a guy who can't even form a sentence around her. And, when has she even considered your feelings like I-"

Slap.

Mordecai's feathered hand collided with Rigby's face painfully, making the coon's eyes be averted to the left along with his face. When he looked back, however, he saw Mordecai's expression filled with rage as angry tears flowed out of his eyes.

Think of me when you're out, when you're out there.

"Don't you ever talk about her that way..."

Rigby looked into Mordecai's eyes and felt his mouth's perimeter widen as he began to cry harder than he was before, gritting his teeth, "And why can't I?"

"...You have no right..." Mordecai said to Rigby before turning and walking to the door, and once again, he repeated, "You have no fucking right..."

I'll beg you nice from my knees.

The door slammed and Rigby was left alone on the couch. His eyes traveled down to his feet again and his head ached, much like his heart did, as he wept harder. Like the night before. He clutched the remote in his hands and chucked it at the ground, making it collide with Mordecai's game controller. The device broke into several pieces, with plastic and a few parts from the inside scattered onto the floor.

And when the world treats you way too fairly.

Rigby noticed his fault, ran over to the controller, picked up the pieces into his paws and sorted them into a pile. He scampered into the kitchen and looked for the tape. Once he found it he ran back and tried desperately to put the controller back together.

Well it's a shame I'm a dream.

Warm tears fell to the ground. Rigby didn't quit. He just kept trying to put the parts back together. His paws were shaky, and so was his voice.

"I can fix this... I can fix it, Mordecai..."

All I wanted was you.

All I wanted was you...