you know its gonna bleed sometimes

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chapter seventeen

The world was dark and warm, and humid. The summer air seemed to get warmer each night, thick and uninviting in the heavy room. It reminded Rigby of blood. He was gazing, amber eyes wide in the night, at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above. All he could think about was Mordecai.

The kiss they shared, the tears they shed, the confession. Oh God, the confession. Rigby didn't feel the realization until after the day ended and visibly cringed at himself, knowing it sounded stupid when the words left his mouth.

And now he couldn't sleep, restless in the night. The voice was still whispering thoughts into him, torturing him, joined by many others. It was stronger.

Mordecai doesn't believe you. He's faking everything. You should run away.

Go to the pond. Go to the pond.

You worthless, useless, good-for-nothing bastard. No one will ever love you. No one. Run.

Rigby felt as if he was thrown out of the world, time rolling slowly as his stomach rolled violently. Stars seemed to fill his vision, spotting across the ceiling and pulling him in and out of consciousness. He closed his eyes, tight, and then flew them open, sitting up in his bed. He tried to rub at them, whole body shaking.

He needed to tell Mordecai about the demon. For real this time.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he got up and scampered across the room and to Mordecai's bed. "Mordecai!" He whispered, "Dude, wake up!"

The blue jay did wake up, but it came out as a grown. "Dude... wha--? What time is it?..." he rolled over, curling up closer to the wall.

"It's time to wake up! I... I need to talk to you," he said.

"Why didn't you talk to me yesterday?" Mordecai slurred, a mumble in the night.

"Because I was scared of judgement. Now get up!" Rigby climbed into the small bed with him, and tore off the blanket.

Mordecai yelped some. "It's cold!"

"No, it's not. It's summer, dude. I need to--"

He was cut off when Mordecai shifted and sat up, suddenly, moving over so he was facing Rigby. His knee was in between Rigby's legs, which were curled in a comfortable position. One lay on Mordecai's, the other lay beneath. He could feel his face heat up.

"What is it, dude? I was having a good dream," Mordecai's voice jarred him from his thoughts, and he returned his gaze to the other.

"I need to tell you about the demon," Rigby hissed, "And... and the voices." He could feel his hands shaking, and Mordecai curled his fingers around his.

"Slow down, dude," his voice was soft, "The demon? You saw him, right?"

The eyes. Those red eyes.

Rigby nodded, swallowing. "I went to the pond," he started. He continued forward, rambling on about the very beginning when the voices first started and the anger that grew stronger and stronger. He told him about Skips, how the older male had seemed discreet about something and then vanished. He told him about the dreams, the dreams of darkness... how confusing all of it was.

He told him about the storm. About the storm that shook him to his core, and about the demon that lashed out at him--

Immediately, the two were reminded of their troubles, and Rigby could feel his breath picking up. It felt good to get everything out, but he couldn't seem to breathe, to relax. He told someone. Now the demon is going to get him and kill him and spread his blood across the world.

"M-Mordecai--" Rigby began, but couldn't continue.

"Hey, hey... calm down, dude. I'm going to help you."

"You believe me?"

"Of course I do," Mordecai mumbled. His hands were warm as he placed them on Rigby's.

The raccoon couldn't describe the relief that flooded over him and lifted him towards the sky.

"What do we do, then?" Rigby asked, pulling away his hands. Mordecai looked hurt for a split second, but it vanished soon after.

"First, we need to prepare," he said, "And... Rigby?"

Rigby looked up, his eyes wide as he gazed at Mordecai. He looked so beautiful in the darkness of the room, the dim light of the moon casting onto his face, washing over him.

"I think we should investigate Skips' place."

And Rigby could feel his blood run cold.

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