Rex realizes that perhaps he was wrong about his friends abandoning him in favor of life on Systar, so he decides to do some investigating.
What he finds out may be even worse than what he originally believed.
The former President had managed to find the two of them something to wear to the wedding, something that would help them blend in better. Emmet paused after pulling on his new shirt, and tilted his head. "...Rex."
"Yeah?" The rogue didn't even slow down as he buttoned up his vest (a formal one, rather than his usual attire, though still in his favored dark blue).
"You're taller than me."
Rex scoffed. "Got lifts in my boots."
"Rex, you're not wearing your boots."
The rogue froze, and blinked down at his stockinged feet as Emmet's words sank in. "...Oh." He looked back up at Emmet. "...Is that all?"
The Special hesitated. "...Your eyes are green, too. I mean they were when we first met but when you came back to find me in Apocalypseburg they were brown like mine so I figured you were just wearing contacts, but they're green again. And you've cursed like, three or four times now."
"Oh. Okay."
"Geez, Rex, breathe-" Emmet yelped, reaching for his counterpart as Rex swayed. Rex gripped Emmet's arms reflexively as he fought down panic.
"Emmet what's happening to me."
Emmet gave him a shaky grin. "You're really gonna freak out about this when you've already given yourself a complete overhaul?"
"I had control over it then!"
"Rex, it's okay. I think... you're just becoming more you. That's all."
"What the fuck do you mean."
Emmet fought down a hysterical giggle. Rex really didn't need him to start laughing in that moment. "Maybe... maybe once upon a time, you were meant to be me from the future, but maybe... in their reality, we're separate figures?" Rex started to calm down, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean... I remember everything you did, I know better than to ever become you, and yet. You're still here."
Rex was silent for a long time. "So he didn't just... abandon me when he chose you. He still wants me around."
Emmet smiled. "I'd say so."
"So what, he's retconning me into actually being your brother?" Rex snorted, but Emmet could see the hope in his eyes.
"What do you say, Rex? Want to be a Brickowski again?"
Rex stared at him for a moment, then thumped his head against Emmet's shoulder. "...Yeah, actually, that sounds great," he murmured.
"I hate to break up... whatever this is," Business interrupted, "but we need to get a move on if we want to get to the Temple on time!"
"Ever hear of being 'fashionably late'?" Rex grumbled. Emmet snickered.
"I invented being fashionably late, but I don't want to be for this!"
"You go on ahead, we'll catch up," Emmet assured. Business nodded and left them alone again.
"Got a plan yet?" Rex asked.
"No," Emmet sighed. "I'll keep thinking, but for now I'm gonna stick to the 'I object!' plan and see if that works."
Rex snorted. "Well if that's what we've got, then that's what we've got." He pulled his shoes on. "Finish getting dressed, would you? Maybe Business has the right idea- we don't want to be late and miss that window of opportunity."
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They untied the Systarians before arriving at the Temple and arranged them at the tables to look like they'd worn themselves out partying. The buses landed and let their passengers out. Bad Cop departed with his friends; all of Systar had been invited, it seemed, and so no one was keeping track of guests. They made it into the Temple, and the other three were whisked away immediately.
At the first opportunity, Bad Cop snuck his way out of the crowd and further into the Temple. Outside of the massive main hall, the place was pretty empty. He'd thought there'd be at least a few guards patrolling the rest of the building, on the lookout for him or Rex and Emmet, but there was no sign of anyone.
Makes our job easier, at least, Good Cop said. Bad Cop hummed in agreement, and began his search.
Eventually he found a room containing a few outfits in something close to their size. He flipped through them. They were very Systarian in style. He grimaced in distaste. "Ugh."
Just pick something, Bad. We won't have to wear it for long.
Bad Cop grumbled some more as he went through the clothes again, picking pieces from different outfits to combine them into something more palatable before changing. He looked himself over in the nearby mirror.
It works, Good Cop chimed in, then hesitated. ...You should probably take your sunglasses off. You're too recognizable with them on.
Bad Cop froze at his counterpart's words. Much as he hated going without them, Good had a point. The scouts had seen him with them on, and in Systar, they stood out like a neon sign. With a rough sigh he took them off and pocketed them, taking a moment to orient himself again before grabbing the violin and leaving the room once more. It was only then that they ran into a guard.
"What are you doing here?" the strange blocky bot asked, sounding more confused than angry.
"Got a bit lost," Bad Cop grumbled. "Can you point me in the right direction?"
"Oh, sure! Down that hallway, left, and then right, and from there you can just follow the signs out to the stadium. And hey, be more careful from now on, yeah? The General says there's rogues about trying to stop the wedding, wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"You got it," Bad Cop said. Good Cop giggled. Bad Cop followed the directions they were given and as promised, found himself in the stadium where the guests were gathering. The seats were nearly all filled by this point; the ceremony would be starting soon. Bad Cop took a look around. The outside of the stadium had speakers surrounding it so those furthest from the podium in the center would still be able to hear the Queen and Bruce exchange their vows. "Bingo," Bad Cop murmured to himself, and made his way toward one of them. Systarians and Alterrans alike were quick to get out of his way once they saw the intent scowl on his face.
He'd just reached the speaker when they started, the wedding party making their way outside. Alright Bad, it's time. Are you ready?
"This is nothing like playing for Mum and Dad," Bad Cop grumbled in response, and turned his attention toward the speaker behind them, breaking the wire that connected it to the rest of the sound system. The few guests around them gave him an odd look when the sound suddenly cut out, but he paid them no mind, focused on reshaping the end of the wire into an audio jack to plug into the violin.
"What'd you do that for, man? I can't hear what's going on now!"
"Can it," Bad Cop barked, and took a deep breath, then lifted the violin to his shoulder to begin playing.
