Below The Surface - A Lackadaisy Fanfiction

Built Without Purpose...

Rocky's flair instantly died: everything in mind just stopped. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he felt sick.

"...no..." He whispered, before his voice raised continuously. "No, no, no, NO!" He ran over as quickly as he could. Mordecai felt himself collapse onto his knees, holding his stomach. He growled out something incoherently, and was yanked into Rocky's arms. He felt the other pressurizing the wound on his stomach.

Roxanna pushed her shoulders back, standing straighter. Her eyes narrowed as she scowled, and she looked over at Lacrimosa. Lacrimosa gave a singular nod: she confirmed that the fire was good enough.

"Nnnghh..." Mordecai grunted. He grimaced, then hissed in pain. His head was propped up by Rocky's gentle hand.

"Come on, come on, stay with me!" Rocky begged, voice rising up to a higher octave. The blood gushing was slow, coming in small bursts. It reminded him of the alcohol run he, Ivy and Freckle did, back when the Marigold Trio was against them.

There was a difference between alcohol and a life: alcohol could be easily replaced, but a life cannot be. However, the similarity was that if handled roughly or damaged, fluids spill and gush out. Parallels and similarities were haunting in this exact moment.

The cries were deafening to Mordecai, now.

Damn...so this is what dying felt like. Everything flashed before Mordecai, almost like a picture show of contents, but of one's life. He could only describe it as a visual biographical representation of his life, but it was all accurate facts.

When Mordecai followed Atlas to St. Louis from off the train, he was a man on a mission.

Mordecai may have been shy of twenty-one, but he had enough spite and terror to fuel him. Yet Atlas guided him through all of this.

The speakeasy was...terrifying to Mordecai, at first. All of the bustling people, the constant chatter, screaming with joy, laughter...it was a culture shock. Granted, he was never in a speakeasy before, so this was going to frighten him, just a bit.

That first day was a whirlwind of emotions. Anxiety, anger, curiosity, confusion, just about any feeling of wonder.

Mitzi and her honeyed words eased him into things. Most of the time, though, it felt like a competition, mainly because of Atlas: it never felt negative though....okay, maybe Mitzi was a bit too sassy and frustrating for him. But in the end she was a part of the second family he found, and consoled him when he was at his lowest. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Viktor's aloofness was a little bit unnerving at first, but once Mordecai got to know him as a partner in crime, the coldness was just a normal thing...that didn't mean both of them didn't butt heads. He didn't even want to be reminded of shooting Sniffles. Looking back made the tuxedo cat shudder.

Ivy, Ivy...where to begin? Always a ball of sass and energy that drove Mordecai up the walls. He enjoyed her smile in secret when she came around in 1926. Multiple times she would try to drag him into dancing with her. She was successful once. Only once, and he hated it completely. Yet he couldn't pry himself away from her genuine smile and chorus of laughter.

Zib was a flirt: nothing Mordecai was interested in. It was only just an inconvenience. He couldn't forget that night where Zib asked him if he had a gun in his pants, or if he was just excited. Turns out it was a gun, and Zib didn't flirt with the tuxedo like that again.

Rocky...well, they're together. Then they split: before getting back. It was an interesting process, to say the least.

...damn. Here he was, letting his mind unravel all of those memories. His life was quite literally flashing before him.