-EIGHT-

Healing

Submitting to his fate would be so much easier if they weren't involved. They shouldn't be there. He had left them, and it all should have ended right then and there. Why did Verne have to make things so complicated? Why did he have to make things so complicated? None of this should matter to him. He shouldn't care the least bit about what happened to them anymore. The link should be severed… so why was it so hard to just let them die?

RJ's heart was heavy as he watched Verne walk away. RJ just wanted all of it to end… the pain, the anxiety, the drama. He wished for the simpler, happier moments, when he was part of a family, surrounded by those he cared about and who cared for him back …and food.

The emptiness in his stomach was a painful reminder that he had had little to eat the past few days. RJ placed a paw over his middle as he peered out of the bush, trying to decide his next course of action.

Verne had suggested rest, but RJ doubted he would be able to sleep anytime soon. The angry hunger pangs from his middle needed to be silenced first.

RJ felt for the strap across his chest, but was startled to find nothing there.

Alarmed, RJ scanned the forest floor. Where was his bag?

RJ's mind turned frantically, trying to remember where his bag had been during all the previous events. He couldn't be without it; all his tools and dearest possessions where in it. Ever since he could remember, he had hauled his stuff around in that handy little navy bag, ready to face any trouble he might meet. There was always something in that bag that would fix any problem, and he had learned to trust in its constant aid. Without it, RJ felt a strange sense of vulnerability.

After mulling over all the places his bag could be, RJ realized the bag must still be lying near the spot he last left it at the dump. RJ groaned; the last thing he wanted to do right now was walk all the way back to the dump-site. His body felt so weak that the mere thought of such a trek made him feel dizzy.

In fact, he didn't just feel dizzy, he was dizzy. RJ clumsily sat down and rubbed his eyes. When the pressure in his head and the spinning sensation did not subside, RJ laid back and let his eyelids fall shut. He was so much more tired than he had realized, and it seemed his body was forcing a shut down. Reluctantly, RJ let his mind wander as he drift off to sleep.

Verne dreaded meeting with the rest of the family now. What would he say? He certainly couldn't tell them RJ's true condition… at least not with Hammy or the young ones around. Verne slowed in his gait as he thought about the horrible injuries his friend had sustained, wondering what would have provoked Vincent to use such violence. RJ had warned him of the danger to his family if they were caught helping him in any way, and Verne wondered if he was making the right choice. Was he needlessly putting his family in harm's way? Verne began to think back on his dreams where he had been made to make a choice between RJ and his family, feeling a similar situation at the moment. He didn't want to have to make a choice between the two.

But recalling how desperate and uncharacteristically helpless RJ had been strengthened his resolve. He had to help RJ. If he didn't, who would? Yes, he would definitely help RJ out, even if it meant his life would be in danger. But he would need to find a way to do so without risking his family's safety.

Verne made his way around a row of brush and out into a familiar clearing. The sun was low in the sky, and it's parting amber yellow beams lay softly over the surface of the pond. Dragonflies wove in and out of the hanging leaves of willow trees, and small flowers hidden in the grass began to close their petals in preparation for the night. Verne gazed upon the peaceful scene as many thoughts passed through his mind. Sighing softly, Verne turned his eyes away and continued towards the large hollow log in the center of the clearing.

Hammy sighted Verne from the branch of a nearby tree, and clambered down to greet him.

"Did you find him?" Hammy asked, clutching his paws tightly together.

"Yes, but-"

Verne didn't finish his sentence before Hammy began whooping and hollering. "Omigosh! Verne's found RJ! Guys!"

"Wait, Hammy, I—!"

But it was too late. Hammy shot off to share the good news. Soon the whole hedge gang was back at the log, short of breath and eager to see their missing friend.

"Well where is he?" Stella asked, looking around.

Ozzie was the next to come crashing through the bushes, followed by Heather. "Yes, where is the long-lost prodigal? His parting has caused us much grief and heartache!" the possum declared, throwing his arms up dramatically. Heather cast a glance skyward.

"If you have found him, then where is he?" Tiger inquired of Verne.

"Where's Uncle RJ?"

"I don't see him!"

"He needs to help us get past level eight in Auto Homicide 3!"

"Yeah, Verne, where is he?" Lou asked. "I know you want fix this, but don't be giving the kids false hope."

Verne waited for the bevy of questions to stop before he spoke. "I have found RJ. However," Verne continued, "he's not ready to come back. He's in a bit of trouble right now, but I'm going to help him out of it." 'Bit of trouble' was an understatement.

"What's wrong? What happened to RJ?"

"Can I help?"

"I want to help too!"

Verne scratched the back of his head. "Look, I'm sure you all want to help, but helping him will put everyone involved in a lot of danger."

"Danger?" Stella interrupted. "Since when has danger ever stopped us?"

"Ooo, I can do danger! I've done it lots of times!" Hammy chimed.

"Far be it from me to falter under the threat of danger," Tiger offered nobly. "I would pursue the well-being of our whole family, even unto death."

"To the death!" Ozzie shouted, hitting his chest and falling over 'dead.' Heather rolled her eyes at her father's conduct, but could not suppress a smile.

Verne looked at each of them silently, then shook his head. "I know how much RJ means to you all, but we can't just charge in and rescue him. Maybe I haven't been clear on just how dangerous the situation is. Vincent is involved in this somehow."

The name brought collective gasps.

"Scary clown!"

"Vincent? But how?"

"I thought he was sent away to the Rockies!"

"He was. But RJ said he's back somehow, and what I saw of him…confirmed that," Verne said, his voice faltering towards the end of his sentence. Verne mentally informed himself that now was not the time for a break down, but he could not stop the wave of negative feelings that accompanied recollection of RJ's injuries. It was all his fault…

Verne cleared his throat. "So, uh, I do have a plan that I think will work, but I don't want any of you to feel obliged to risk your lives. I'm the one who made this mess, and I intend to fix it, because in truth, I don't want to make a bigger mess by getting all of you involved. On the other hand, I have no right to make that kind of decision for you. So, I'm going to leave the choice to you."

Verne was finished, his mind was made. Now it was up to the others.

Stella was the first to speak. "Verne, who are you kidding? You knew what our choice would be before you even said that."

"Oh-oh-oh-oh! I'll do it! I'll help! I love to help!" Hammy blurted.

"Danger is my middle name!" Ozzie exclaimed, to his daughter's chagrin.

"Dad, that is so cliché."

"To go back on my word now would be cowardice," Tiger asserted.

The three porcupines looked to their parents hopefully. "Well," Penny began, "we've made it through tight situations as a family before…"

"—so that's a definite yes," Lou said, finishing for his wife. The kids cheered.

"Then it's decided," Stella alleged. "We're all in this together, for better or worse. Now what do we gotta do?"

Verne smiled. He had known all along that in the end he couldn't stop his family from doing what they—and he—knew to be right. Verne explained the situation and his plan.

"...and when we get the food, we'll put it in our winter storage. Then RJ will come by at night and 'steal' it from us. We'll act outraged that RJ is taking our food so that Vincent won't suspect a thing."

"That's brilliant, Verne!" Penny applauded.

Tiger chuckled. "So where is the part that we are endangered, again? It seems like a perfectly solid plan to me."

"I'm glad you think so," Verne replied, "but any plan that includes 'don't anger the bear' seems pretty risky to me." The others laughed at this. "In any case, I'm going to invite RJ the log tonight, so make sure there's plenty for him to take."

With this, the animals hurried off to prepare for RJ's visit. Verne used the opportunity to grab a few things out of their home before setting out again. Unbeknownst to him, Stella had been watching him carefully and had followed him out of the clearing. When they were a ways away from the others, Stella confronted Verne.

"OH! Oh... Stella, it's you. Heh, I don't think I like your habit of sneaking up on people."

"Verne, what's really goin' on?"

"Huh?"

"Don't think I didn't see you getting choked up when you mentioned the situation with RJ. I want to know just how bad he's doing. And what's that in yo hands?" Stella demanded, seeing the bundle of bandages Verne gripped in his hands.

"Oh, these?" Verne sighed, but he knew he could confide with Stella. "To be completely honest, he's in terrible condition. If Vincent held back at all, it was only to keep from killing him.

"And it's not just his body that was wounded either; something Vincent said—or something… I… said— must have really gotten to him, because he acts like a completely different person. He doesn't even have the will to live anymore," Verne said. He held up the bandages. "He looks a wreck, and I was hoping to patch him up a little so none of you would get upset when you saw him."

Stella took in the information silently, her features showing deep concern as Verne continued.

"I can't help but feel that it's all my fault. If I hadn't said what I'd said..."

Verne's voice trailed off. Stella placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. What happened to RJ would've happened in spite of what you did. But let's not dwell on the past anymore. I think RJ's lucky to have you as a friend. You're like the older brother he never had."

"Thanks, Stella... I think," Verne said, a little unsure if Stella was teasing him or being sincere. In his experience, older brothers were often pushy, nagging, and sometimes over-protective—which, Verne realized, described him pretty well.

Stella giggled at Verne's facial expression. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Go find RJ before it gets dark."

"OK, ok, I'm going!"

Verne continued on his way to the spot he had found RJ, feeling much more confident then he had before. If all went well with his plan, RJ would have his debt cleared within a week, and things could go back to the way they were before all this mess.

Verne made it to a familiar section of the forest, and tried to remember which bush he and RJ had been hiding before. "RJ?" he called, hoping for a response. When he didn't get one, he assumed either RJ had left or he had taken his advice and rested. Verne hoped for the latter, simply for the sake of time. Searching through the bushes, Verne eventually found the raccoon asleep in the same spot he had left him.

RJ looked so peaceful that Verne was loath to wake him, so he decided to let RJ sleep a little longer while he applied the bandages.

Being an amphibian (reptile?) with rough skin and a sturdy shell, Verne rarely ever got a cut or bruise, but he had delt with scrapes on his family members a few times before. Most often it was one of the young porcupines with some injury they had acquired in their wild games, or one of the possums that had fallen off the branches in their sleep. Such accidents led to a cut or bruise that a little water and time would heal. He had never seen or heard of a band-aid or ice pack until RJ had come along and taught them that humans don't lick their wounds to heal them. When the others had marveled at the thought, RJ had introduced them to the band-aid, gauze, sanitary wipe, and aspirin, adding a sample of each to their collection.

At the moment, however, Verne didn't have any sanitary wipes, and so he resorted to the natural mode of cleansing: licking the wounds. As he went about his business, RJ began to stir. His eyelids parted a crack, then flew open.

"Verne...what the heck are you doing?"

Verne spat the fur off his tongue. "Sanitising your wounds."

RJ's face twisted in disgust. "Verne, that is so wrong on so many levels... what happened to the sanitary wipes I got you?"

"The lemon scented ones? Hammy used them for deodorant wipes."

"Okay, great, you can stop now." RJ moved to sit up, but Verne pushed him back down.

"Hang on a sec, let me put the gauze on first," Verne said, unfurling a strip of the white fabric.

"Ugh, no. I'm gonna go wash all your spit off of me first. I don't see how you deem that sanitary."

"Spittle has healing properties and it rids the wound of dirt and can prevent infection. Licking wounds is a pretty basic instinct. Have you completely replaced all your instincts with human habits?"

"I don't know what an 'instinct' is, but it sounds gross. Let me go." RJ pushed Verne off and stood up.

"Ah ah ah. That's no way to earn a Twinkie," Verne taunted, waving a previously concealed Twinkie under RJ's nose.

"A Twinkie!" RJ exclaimed. His stomach growled voraciously as drool dripped from the corner of his lip. RJ cleared his throat and sat back down. "That is, ah, I am sure we could reach a mutual agreement over the divvying of snack cakes and application of band-aids."

"Good." Verne handed the Twinkie to RJ and continued applying a gauze pad to the mean-looking gash across his chest.

"Where did you get this, by the way?" RJ inquired between mouthfuls. "I thought I ate the whole box."

"You did. But you overlooked the Twinkie I had in reserve."

"Lucky for me. You know, when this is all over, I'm gonna create a Strategic Twinkie Reserve to make sure there is never a shortage of supply."

"When this is all over, I'm going to introduce you to a debt management plan. Bailing you out of trouble all the time is getting pretty tedious."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna make you listen to 'Hakuna Matata' 24/7 until you stop being such a worrywart."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

Verne watched RJ happily as they both laughed. It was good to see him in high spirits again, joking around like the RJ he knew. When their laughter subsided, Verne spoke up again.

"So, um, RJ... I'm really sorry about earlier, what I said. I shouldn't have taken things so far. I just want to let you know that it was me who was being selfish, not you."

"Hey, forget about it. I don't even remember what that whole fight was about in the first place."

Verne opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it and cocked his head to the side. "You know, I don't remember either."

"Well there's no use in bringing up bad memories. Say, did you guys think of something to get me out of this mess, or am I still fish bait?"

"I thought I was forgetting something..."

When Verne finished telling RJ his plan, he went back to the log, leaving RJ time to travel inconspicuously. Sure that no one had followed him, RJ crept across the starlit clearing, using utmost stealth to make sure none of the sleeping animals saw or heard him. Peering into the log, RJ spotted the stash of food the family had collected and began to load it onto a wagon. RJ barely finished putting a bag of corn chips into the wagon before a voice called out with excitement.

"RJ!" Hammy cried, throwing his arms around the raccoon.

"RJ?" The others appeared, close behind Hammy.

"Heh, ya'll are making it really obvious that you don't mind me mooching your food," RJ laughed as he fell victim to a swarm of hugs.

"Ya know, breathing is nice thing to do every once in a while..." RJ gasped as his family squeezed him tightly. "...in fact...it's kinda...necessary...for life."

Verne took the hint. "Guys! Give him some room to breathe! We're trying to be a little inconspicuous here?"

"Sorry!" Hammy apologized. "I'm just glad to see him."

"We're all glad to see him."

"Don't ever leave us again!" Hammy exclaimed, squeezing RJ again.

As the hedgies celebrated a happy moment together, two eyes looked on from the edge of the clearing.

Who's watching the hedgies from the shadows? Do they have good or evil intentions? Have things finally made a turn for the better, or is this just the calm before the storm? Hold on to the edge of your seat, because from here on out, things can only get better. Or worse, depending on how you look at it. ;)