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.
"So what do you think??" Watevra gushed as Good Cop studied his restored face in the little handheld mirror she'd offered him.
"I look like me again," he murmured in awe. He glanced up from the mirror to meet her gaze. "Thank you."
She smirked back at him. "Just don't forget I'm not the only one you have to thank."
"Of course..." Good Cop trailed off, gaze flicking toward the corner where Business had been standing, watching, on stand-by in case the device didn't work. He wasn't there anymore.
He must have snuck out the moment she handed it off to him, Bad Cop mused.
I can't say that I'm sad about that, but it does make it harder to track him down and actually talk to him. Good Cop sighed.
We don't have to do it right now, Bad Cop suggested. I'm certainly not keen on the idea.
I know. But putting it off might just make it worse. He hopped down off the exam table and left the room in search of the former President. By the time they found him he was empty-handed once more, the restorative device safely stored away somewhere. He seemed surprised to run into them- and a little wary.
Of course he would be. He'd only ever been able to overpower them because of his armor, which Emmet had destroyed in their confrontation so long ago now. Bad Cop could break him without trouble now, if he were so inclined. Fortunately for Business, he wasn't.
They stared at each other in awkward, uncomfortable silence for a minute. Good Cop finally found his voice again. "Ah- we just... wanted to say thank you."
Business' gaze fell away. "I hardly think I deserve your gratitude for fixing something that I broke in the first place."
"Watevra seems to think you do. So. Thank you."
"...You're welcome." And then Business scooted past them, muttering something about having work to do. Good Cop let out a long, drawn-out sigh as he relaxed again.
That went surprisingly well.
It did. Now let's go find something to drink.
I'm with you on that.
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"Emmet?"
The Special paused in his quest for coffee at the sound of his name, and turned to give the General a questioning look. She seemed somewhat nervous, though he couldn't imagine why. "Can I help you?" he asked brightly.
"I wanted to apologize."
He stared at her. That was something of a shock. "What for?"
"For everything I said about you, back in Apocalypseburg," she sighed. "It was cruel of me, and uncalled for."
