sweet talk

get this weight off my shoulder

chapter two

Stepping away from the window, Rigby thought about what he could possibly do-- he could wait until morning, in the cold, and maybe he could say he's sick and can skip work... that idea didn't sound so bad. But he knew Benson wouldn't believe it. He could bang on the window and go through an annoyed, angry Mordecai... but he would never hear the end of it if he did so. Maybe the front door was open. There was a chance.

His mind ran wild, his heart beating a million beats per second, as he scampered to the edge of the roof again, peering down at the drop.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't that high.

Rigby turned to look at the window, flipping it off, before turning back and sitting down, ever so carefully sliding further and further down until his backside was barely even touching the gutter. He was shaking some, forgetting that it was even dark, or cold, or the sounds of crickets that chirped carelessly in his ears. He wasn't scared of the height, nor the anger he would face, or the regret he would maybe feel later.

He was scared of death.

The auburn raccoon slid down even more, before placing his feet flat on the side of the house, and shifting to where one hand was gripping tightly on the ledge. Using the little arm and core strength he bore, he thrust forward, grabbing the ledge with his other hand. Now his chest was against the house, and his feet were dangling in front of a window. Not exactly the living room window, but Rigby guessed it was the bathroom.

He could barely look down with his sweaty hands beginning to slip, the cold grazing him. He yelped, and soon he lost his grip, his fingertips sliding from the edge of the gutter. Time seemed to crawl to a slow as Rigby fell, bracing for the pain that would come when his body slammed into the ground.

But it was cut off by the bushes, and he grunted as he fell into the leaves, the branches carrying his weight. But it didn't last long, for he fell through, the twigs and spikes leaving small cuts. Rigby thrashed about until he was out of the bushes, eyes wide.

The cold was beginning to get to him.

The raccoon scrambled to his feet and waddled to the door, reaching for the knob and turning it... but the door wouldn't budge. "What?! Oh, come on!" Rigby shouted at nothing, and slammed his head on the surface. He didn't care that it left a small knot on his forehead. He was starting to get pissed off.

He then froze in place, eyes widening. He had forgotten about Margaret-- she probably heard him slam the door, his yells. She's probably shaking and scared now, very awake. She's probably calling the police, or running to Mordecai, or--

Rigby's thoughts of anxiety were interrupted when he heard a click, and the door swung open to reveal Margaret in her pajamas, eyes wide. She looked down at the raccoon, and snorted back laughter. "Rigby? What are you doing outside? How did you--?"

"Yes!" Rigby quickly exclaimed to her, not processing the questions. "Let me in! It's cold!"

"Oh-- uh-- okay!" Margaret stepped aside, and Rigby hurried inside. They shut the door behind them, and shared a long, quiet moment, staring at each other with the grimmest of expressions. And then, they burst out laughing.

It was uncalled for, the sudden change of emotions-- first anger, then panic, and then amusement, Rigby's mind wandering and changing, fuzzy with the late night worries. The laughter was almost mischievous, as if Margaret and Rigby just came from robbing the entire town, eyes shining, mouths pulled up into a grin. It was almost... relieving.

And then, Margaret turned away, averting her gaze to the floor. "We should go back to bed," she said.

Rigby didn't respond. Only nod with agreement, feeling quite awkward hanging around his best friend's crush, probably even future girlfriend, the whole reason why he didn't want the female to stay over.

He quickly headed up the stairs, leaving her, and turned his gaze to the door leading to he and Mordecai's room. His hand hesitated at the knob, before wrapping around the handle and turning it, creaking the door open slightly. He stepped inside, and saw Mordecai fast asleep, looking quite peaceful curled up in the bundle of blankets.

Something then stirred inside of Rigby, something he never really felt before. It was soft, and weird, and he couldn't help but continued to gaze at Mordecai. There was a sort of vulnerability about his sleeping pose that Rigby couldn't describe.

The blue jay mumbled something, rolling over, causing Rigby to jump from his thoughts and quickly go back to his own bed, laying down upon the trampoline. But he couldn't seem to get Mordecai from his mind, and the feeling that stirred when he saw his sleeping form.

This, however, seemed to calm him down, and he drifted to sleep with the thoughts of the blue jay drifting in his head like a cloud drifting over the blazing sun on a hot day.

It was, quite candidly, all he dreamt about that night.