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.
Rex slowly rose to consciousness once more. His head throbbed where he'd been pistol whipped, and he could feel the beginnings of a caffeine withdrawal headache too. How long had he been out? He couldn't hold back his sigh of relief when he spotted a water bottle sitting nearby. He grabbed it and yanked the cap off, not even bothering to twist it off, and had half of it chugged down before he realized he had company. He glowered.
"S'pose I gotta give you kudos for finally learning how to play dirty. Never thought you had it in you."
Emmet, to his credit, didn't even look guilty. Just tired. "I learned it from you."
Another low blow. Rex fought not to flinch. "So what now? You gonna turn me over to your queen? Throw me in jail and leave me to rot for the rest of my life?"
Emmet shook his head. "I don't think so. I told Watevra a little about what happened to you, I think she's willing to be lenient. But it mostly depends on how your talk with her goes."
"Jail it is then."
"Why do you insist on being so obstinate?" Emmet huffed. Rex raised his eyebrows at the sound of his little brother using such big words. "You have a chance for a happy ending and it's like you're doing everything you can to avoid it. Why are you fighting it? Do you honestly enjoy being so miserable and angry and bitter all the time?!"
"...I don't think I know any other way to be, at this point."
"Just try?" Emmet sighed. "For me? I actually want you to be around to fight and butt heads with all the time." Rex stared at him.
"But..."
"It's in the past, Rex. You've been carrying this with you for far too long. It's time to let it go." Rex gripped the sheets covering his legs, blinking rapidly against the moisture welling in his eyes. Emmet scooted closer to sit on the edge of the mattress and wrapped his arms around Rex. "You're not alone anymore, and you never will be again."
Rex froze, it finally hitting him how Emmet now registered in his mind- no longer 'past self' but 'little brother'. He could feel his temper flare, but also... an overwhelming sense of relief. He was so tired of fighting. He drew in a shuddering breath, his shoulders shaking. "You're a little shit," he hissed. "Sneaky underhanded bastard and I'm pissed at you, don't think I'm not!" He couldn't hold back anymore, and started sobbing into Emmet's shoulder. "Why would you do this to me?!"
"Because I'm not willing to give up on you, you stupid jerk."
Rex choked out a laugh. They sat like that for a long time.
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Bad Cop was given a clean bill of health after being checked over by the palace's doctor. His armor had taken the worst of the damage; all he would really suffer was some bruising, for which he was prescribed painkillers and restrictions.
Watevra slipped into the room as the doctor left. Bad Cop arched one eyebrow over his sunglasses. "Something we can help you with, Your Majesty?"
"Oh, no," she said, flapping a hand at them. "Actually, I came with the hope of helping you."
"Really?" Bad Cop seemed intrigued. "With what?"
"Sirius and I might have figured out a way to restore Good Cop's face."
Bad Cop tensed. "We don't want anything to do with anything that he had a hand in coming up with."
"I know what he put you through," Watevra tried to soothe. "When Discord first rescued him, he told me everything he'd done as President."
"Everything?" Bad Cop echoed, doubtful.
"Everything," Watevra confirmed. "No details spared. I think he was trying to convince me he'd be a terrible choice for an advisor, but while he certainly puts on a convincing show..." She smirked. "There's not much you can hide from an empath. I could feel the guilt eating away at him." Still, even with the sunglasses hiding so much of his face, Bad Cop was clearly skeptical. "I can understand your hesitation. But even if you can't trust him, can you at least trust me? I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I really do just want to help your people, to help you."
Bad Cop relaxed minutely. "Seeing as how our entire conflict was based on one giant misunderstanding... I suppose I could try. What did you come up with?"
"It's..." Watevra scratched her cheek as she thought. "I suppose it's like one of Sirius' relics, but one we created ourselves rather than discovered, and tested thoroughly. We've only used it on one person so far, a Duplo that had an unfortunate encounter with some form of acid that took off one of their eyes, but it worked. I'm confident we'll be able to give Good Cop back his face. I'm sure it's been exhausting for the two of you, for him to be hiding the whole time you've been here, and you to be fronting."
"...It has been... in more than one way," Bad Cop admitted. Watevra tilted her head. "Good's the people person, not me."
The Queen nodded. "I understand. There's no need to hide anymore, though. And tomorrow morning we'll begin the procedure. Doc says you should at least take tonight to rest first." Bad Cop nodded.
"Thank you."
"No problem!" Watevra chirped. "And one more thing."
"Yes?"
"You really ought to tell Benny that you like him."
Bad Cop spluttered. "Wha- how-"
"Empath, remember?" she giggled. "When you all came back from the Rexcelsior and he was supporting you, you felt all fluttery. I've sensed that enough by now to know what it is."
Bad Cop's face burned. "One, that's hardly your business. Two, there's no point to it anyway... I was there for your song. I know he's not interested."
Watevra blinked at him. "Well that explains that weird stabbing I felt... I mean it, though. Don't be so quick to write yourself off." She pulled herself upright again. "Ice Cream Cone should be on his way now, he'll show you to your room. You and your friends are all welcome to stay in the palace for as long as you'd like." She breezed back out of the room with a jaunty wave and a cheerful "good night!", leaving Bad Cop to his thoughts.
Don't be so quick to write yourself off.
Bad Cop bit his lip. Empath, he reminded himself.
Did that mean...
...he might actually have a chance?
I agree with her, Bad. I think you should tell Benny too, Good Cop chimed in.
"I..."
Good Cop's consciousness brushed up against his own- the closest he'd ever be able to get to giving Bad a hug- supportive and reassuring. You can do it, Bad. But wait until tomorrow, it's been an exhausting day for everyone.
Bad Cop nodded, and glanced back up as the Queen's majordomo opened the door. He couldn't deny that he was very much looking forward to falling face-first into a mattress and being dead to the world for as long as he was allowed.
