Chapter Text
Recovery time. ..it’s a precious thing, isn’t it?
That feeling when you get home from a long trip, or a long day of school…maybe you came home from the hospital. Or if you were Hatchet Man Heller, recovery time meant time away from the infamous Rose Brigade.
News, headlines, rumors… everything went awry this past month, but it was a satisfying little thing to watch. Oh, to witness the sudden fear in people’s eyes when they find out their beloved jazz singing sensation is a horrible person. It was definitely a heart-crushing moment for long time fans…then again, that’s just how life is. While you can change people, they just choose not to.
The only person you can change is you: and it can all start today, if you have the heart for it.
Mordecai hasn’t heard from them in a while. No attacks, no threats, hell, even the murders stopped. Silas and Raquelle hastily checked out and ran off to God knows where. They were simply too paranoid to handle the consequences of their actions. It was laughable, in a sense. Killer siblings, afraid of being caught? It was enough to make Mordecai scoff at the sudden idea.
There were also no more assassination attempts on Mr. Sweet or Mitzi May. That caused less stress.
…that was until the nightmares began, the night after the Lackadaisy speakeasy got flooded and destroyed.
Mordecai hasn’t had nightmares since he was seventeen . So to deal with them all of a sudden was damning to his sleep schedule and mentality. The first few nights were violent: Mordecai waking up, covered in sweat over how vivid it was. He lost count how many times he showered that week from just the sheer feeling of a single bead of sweat.
Just looking back made his stomach roil. He hated this, especially since it was almost a month ago when it happened. A single month of mental torment from nobody but himself. Guilt shrouded over him.
Then he pondered: was this the same feeling one would have after killing someone? The dread, the horror, the realization and agony? He could tie it to that, in an almost logical sense.
Because of this taking a toll on his sanity, Rocky decided to stay with him for a couple nights. The nightmares continued, plaguing Mordecai’s mind, and causing him to lose himself for the most part. Those olive green eyes of his were filled with so many tears and so much terror, that it was causing concern to burst throughout Rocky and the rest of the group.
Last night was no different: in fact, it was about to get much worse.
****
The dream always started like this: within the flaming Lackadaisy speakeasy, nobody but himself…for now.
Mordecai sighed reluctantly. “Here we go again…” He muttered, stalking through the burning speakeasy. His footsteps and the crackling fire were the only noises lingering.
He didn’t have his gun, which was a damn shame. He needed it for whatever was to happen next.
The fire and smoke got intense, and he coughed into his elbow, eyes watering.
“Damnit…” He choked out. He walked through, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes narrowed in a calculating way. Each footstep deafened the last one, and his ears flicked at the clicking noises in the background. He whipped around, tail lashing. His heartbeat pulsated in his throat, as he now gazed around. His eyes narrowed at a hatchet, leaned against the bar, the same one that always appeared.
He remembered the routine and grabbed it. He heard more footsteps, and random, faceless goons charging after him. So he swung and chopped at them, blood splattering and splotching over the floors, his fur, and clothes. He jerked back when he was punched in the muzzle, and his pince–nez fell off, shattering in the process. He made an estimated guess on where the punch came from, swung the hatchet like a baseball bat and chopped off another nameless, faceless goon’s head.
Mordecai grimaced, using his already dirty sleeve to wipe off the blood. He snatched up his pince–nez and shakily put them back on. His hands were stained in the blood that was shed, and he kept advancing once all the bodies dropped to the floor.
“There you are, mei deliciae~” Lacrimosa’s voice broke out, sounding echoing, even demonic. The hairs on the back of Mordecai’s neck stood up, and his breathing went slightly ragged. He gripped his hatchet tighter, tears welling up in his eyes due to the smoke growing stronger, and the panic and rage coursing through him like venom injected into his veins.
He turned towards the stage, and noticed Lacrimosa. She was in her lavish flapper dress, consisting of pigments of indigo and black. Her black feathered boa was wrapped around her tightly, and her bushy tail swayed in anticipation. Her lips were painted black, and a cigarette was pressed against them. It was ignited and burning, and she exhaled a puff of smoke. A look of disdain was drawn on her face, a scowl and narrowed eyes making their way to blossom into view. She pressed her hand to her chest, almost reaching for her white pearl necklace to tug on.
A ring of roses was crowned on the side of her head, around her left ear. She only wore it now because of the divots in her ears from the gunshot she received. The end of her cigarette was still ignited, bursting into a small, harmless ember, within a harmful, fiery environment.
“...You.” Mordecai whispered, his breathing ragged. He held his hatchet loosely now, taking a slow step towards her. Then another.
Lacrimosa opened her mouth to talk, and she did, but her words were muted. It was infuriating to Mordecai, and just as he was about to snap, she spoke.
“I suggest you look behind you.” Lacrimosa told him. Confused, Mordecai froze. His heart stopped when he heard whimpering, which was muffled. When he turned, Rocky was on his knees, tied up by rope, and gagged by a rag. He tried screaming, but was no use.
Shadowed figures of Mandisa and Silas stood beside Rocky, almost in a brandishing manner. Said manner would be as if someone had caught something so extraordinary, it just needed to be shown off.
“...what are you—” Mordecai choked, before letting out a strangled noise of fear when Rocky was stabbed in the stomach by Silas.
Though this Silas had pure white eyes, and a shadowed face that conveyed no emotion. Mordecai cried out, reaching for Rocky, but it was like he glitched out of reality. This only confused Mordecai more, and he snapped around to face Lacrimosa again.
“What did you DO with him?!” He yelled: a bit of his New Yorker side came out, and his ears flattened on his head.
“Don’t worry, he’s in good hands.” Lacrimosa plopped her hands onto her hips. She raised an eyebrow at the hatchet in his hands, then smirked. “Aw~ Hatchet Man Heller, former Golden Boy of Atlas, ready to attack? Show me watch you got, sweetpea~” She snarled, the hand back on her chest.
Mordecai finally had enough courage to launch himself at her, then swing the hatchet to hit her. She was quick to dodge and flick out a knife, now gutting it into his stomach. Mordecai shuddered, mouth going agape.
He dropped the hatchet.
He buckled his knees.
Finally, Lacrimosa caressed his cheek in a maternal way, kissing his forehead.
“Goodnight, mei deliciae…remember: Vivat rosa legio.” She brandished the knife, then grabbed the scuff of his neck. She whipped the blade across the front of his neck, splitting it open for more blood to pour out. Mordecai garbled for a minute, the sudden warmth of blood rushing to his mouth. He coughed, and it dribbled down his face.
His eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he collapsed onto his knees.
The last thing flashing before his eyes were Lacrimosa’s twisted smile, and the memories of Rocky that haunted him—
****
Mordecai instantly shot upright, gasping for air. He reached for his neck, then his stomach, then everywhere else on his body as his breathing got increasingly quicker. He fumbled for his pince–nez and put them on. His hands had a pricking buzz of anxiety, and he looked around his room.
Quiet, calm, perfect room temperature.
It didn’t help with the sweat beading on his forehead, and with the sudden tightness in his chest. He gripped at it, lurching forward slowly as he tried breathing in and out.
He was feeling humiliated with himself when acting this way. His heart pounding, chest hurting, head screaming, tears—
—tears.
“Fucking hell…” He blurted out softly, rubbing his eyes and taking his pince–nez back off. He gripped them tight enough that he could have broken them if he wanted, but he wasn’t focused on that. He just needed to control his breathing, and it would be okay…
…but he couldn’t.
The quiet gasps for air and worsening case of trembling was enough for Rocky to stir next to him. Mordecai flinched, looking down to his right.
He forgot Rocky was sleeping with him. And he still didn’t know whether he liked it or not.
“Mhhh…” Rocky slumped against Mordecai, leaning his face on his shoulder. His arms lazily hooked around his waist, hugging him tightly.
Mordecai stood there, dumbfounded. He was downright flabbergasted when he felt his breathing grow slightly less erratic. It was a possibility that the ragamuffin next to him had a calming effect…even with the deep purrs rumbling from his chest.
“...you alright, Ole Serious Face?” Rocky mumbled into Mordecai’s shoulder, blinking away any sleepiness.
“I am, Roark…” Mordecai lied.
“You sure…?” Rocky asked.
“Positive.”
“You don’t look okay…”
“I can assure you, Roark: I am quite alright.”
“C’mon, Morde…please. Don’t lie to me.”
There was a silence that hung over them.
“...nightmare.” Mordecai finally admitted. He felt Rocky pull him close, to lay his head on his chest. Rocky ran his fingers through Mordecai’s hair, in an attempt to calm and comfort him.
“You don’t have to talk immediately,” Rocky reassured, “just let me know when you’re ready.”
Mordecai leaned his head more into Rocky’s chest, sighing quietly. At least the pain and the breathing struggles stopped: that was a bit of a blessing. He locked his arms around Rocky’s waist, eyes dulling.
“...thank you for staying.” He muttered. Rocky kissed the top of his head.
“You’re welcome, Ole Serious Face.” Rocky muttered back. He laid back down, cuddling up to Mordecai. He nuzzled his face into the crook of his lover’s neck, and Mordecai finally purred a bit. He seemed much more content now, than a few minutes ago. Maybe he just needed some love.
And that is exactly what he got…
****
The windows of the Savoy’s hotel suite were completely shut and locked up, mainly because of the mugginess that made them feel uncomfortable. Tonight, however, was going to be a good night.
They finally fixed up the Lackadaisy’s speakeasy enough for business to boom again. Patrons from not only there, but also from Maribel Hotel were pouring in. It was a fine night, with light, glitter, and positivity radiating.
Serafine stared at herself in the vanity mirror, yanking out a hair tie from her curly hair. It cascaded down, and rested down her back. She frowned, lips curling into a close-lipped snarl. She had been letting her grow out for a while now, and saw it was much longer than she wanted it to be.
She was in a black and red flapper dress now, and it looked almost iridescent in this lighting. She wore black gloves, black heels and pantyhose to go with it. She even wore her usual bone necklace, and even a bone bracelet. Her eyeshadow was red, as were her lips, and she had placed her hands on her hips. She continued to look at herself in the mirror, the frown still evident.
“Ay, whatcha frownin’ for?” Nico asked: he was in a black waistcoat, with black slacks. He wore his normal red scarf and bandages on his arms, and of course, no shoes.
“I don’ like how long my hair got.” Serafine ruffled her curls, then growled in frustration.
“Den cut it. ” Nico suggested. Serafine mulled over the thought, tilting her head to the side. She nodded.
“Pass de scissors.” She held her hand out. Nico smirked, walking off to get a pair of scissors. He came back and placed them into her hand. Serafine opened and closed the scissors, then pulled her hair to the side. She was about to cut, when she heard knocking on the door.
“Serafine! Nico!” Mordecai exclaimed, clicking his cufflinks into place again. He wore a dark gray suit with a red tie, white dress shirt, dark gray slacks, shined shoes and shined pince–nez.
“Gimme a damn minute, I’m cuttin’ my hair!” Serafine exclaimed.
“ Now, of all times? We have to go! ” Mordecai scoffed. “Are you decent enough for me to come in? I can do it for you to save time!”
“Come in, Peekon!” Nico exclaimed. Mordecai opened the door, shutting it behind him. He pulled out his pocket watch, seeing how they needed to be at their event in twenty five—well, twenty four minutes now . He clicked the lid of the watch shut, moving over to them.
“... you want to cut my hair? ” Serafine blinked at him.
“I know how to make it symmetrical enough. Hand over the scissors.” Mordecai demanded. Serafine laughed, handing them to him. He urged her to sit down afterwards. “Now,” He began, “how short do you want it?”
“Mhh…real short.” Serafine answered. Mordecai pointed to the middle of Serafine’s neck, looking at her through the mirror. He raised a brow, then nodded when he watched give a thumbs up. So, he began cutting her hair carefully and deliberately.
“I jus’ knew you woulda bothered her ‘bout her hair if she ended up cutting it herself.” Nico commented, tightening the bandages around his hands and wrists.
“You are correct on that part.” Mordecai admitted, grumbling something afterwards. He made sure to be gentle with her hair, too, considering that curly hair can be hard to manage sometimes. He began snipping away, then hummed, actually hummed a melody.
“You seem to be in a good mood.” Serafine mused. “Your boyfriend keepin’ you happy?” There were no dirty undertones to her question: she was genuinely curious.
“Happy as one can be when they’re dealing with an insolent, insufferable, pancake loving ragamuffin.” Mordecai sighed. “Whose asymmetrical most of the time…then again, it’s always something simple to fix.” He added. He continued cutting.
“...this is de first time we seen ya happy like dis, Peekon. It’s nice. ” Nico leaned against the wall, watching in a keen manner.
“Oh…” Mordecai faltered. “Well, I suppose that’s alright.” He trailed off again, eyes narrowing in concentration. Serafine watched with a spark in her eyes, now lighting up. Her hair was much shorter, the exact length she wanted it. It accentuated her hair more, and it was much puffier. She liked the volume of it now, and she seemed satisfied.
“Thank you, Peekon.” She told him as he stepped away. He quickly put up the scissors and went to grab a pan and a broom to sweep up the hair and throw it out.
“You’re welcome. Now come along: we have to go. Rocky, Freckle, and Ivy are waiting at the speakeasy.” He informed. Serafine and Nico got up, following after the tuxedo cat. Mordecai added, “Oh, Nico?”
“Yeah?” Nico raised a brow.
“...next time, put some damn shoes on.” Mordecai commented. Nico snorted, waving it off.
“Nah: dat’s not how I roll.” He commented with a smirk. Mordecai facepalmed softly, walking down the hall quicker as Nico and Serafine laughed hard.
“Of course not.” He muttered. He couldn’t help but smile at the occasional commentary, even chiming in. The trio made it down to the hotel’s lobby, and saw Mr. Sweet at the front desk, happily chatting with the receptionist. He was in a dark blue suit, ironed in a crisp, fine fashion. He had a normal cigar in his hand, but he did not light it yet. He turned to face them, and he beamed.
“Ah! There you are!” He exclaimed. “I was getting a bit worried…” He then noticed Serafine’s hair. “So you cut it all off, huh?”
“All thanks to Peekon.” Serafine nudged Mordecai as he rolled his eyes.
“It looks good on you, dear.” Mr. Sweet hummed, and Serafine grinned.
“Now let’s get going: we wouldn’t want to keep anyone else waiting.” Mordecai cut in politely, and Mr. Sweet nodded.
“ I will be the one driving us…since I do not trust any of you with the Cadillac.” He commented. Mordecai smiled slightly, and Serafine chuckled. Nico laughed a bit harder, and then the three of them followed him out to the car.
This was going to be fun.
****
After everyone arrived, they all settled into some drinks, dancing and discussion. Mordecai drawled on about something to do with Marigold, with Nico occasionally budding in. Nonetheless, it was still a fun conversation. Ivy and Freckle were talking to Rocky, teasing him—only for him to be oblivious—and overall enjoying his company. Serafine only listened to the conversations while sipping away at a glass of whiskey, humming along to the music. Someone caught her eye out of curiosity, however.
A younger boy, almost in his twenties, was waved over by Zib. Darrian Grace was an orange tabby cat: lanky, thin, and nervous.
“Hey kid, c’mere.” ZIb told him. Darrian scurried over, his gold eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Is it time?!” He bounced up and down a bit. Zib chuckled, nodding.
“Damn right: c’mon…you did good during rehearsal: knock it out of the park.” He clapped his shoulder. Darrian quickly ran up to the stage, almost tripping on the stairs in the process.
Serafine’s ears flicked up, and she turned to the stage. She smiled slightly. “Who’s dat?”
“Some boy who come and sing.” Viktor stated, cleaning a glass. Mordecai hummed in acknowledgement.
“He’s rather good, if I do say so myself.” Wick commented. “That voice is rather shocking.”
Ivy quickly moved to the bar out of excitement, next to Freckle, Serafine and Nico. Rocky brandished his violin bow and walked over, waving. Mordecai turned towards him when he walked over, the two pressing their foreheads together for a solid moment, before pulling away.
And so, Darrian gripped the microphone. When the band played slowly, he began to sing: he had a slightly raspy voice, but it made it so much more fun to hear. It just had a new edge to it, and people liked it.
“Listen close, follow my instructions,
There is no time for introductions…”
“ Oh. ” Ivy whispered. “I never heard this before!”
“Strange…” Mordecai leaned forward. The band’s playing was beautifully haunting, and the voice made it much more eerie.
“He was the one that made us,
You’ll be the one to save us,”
Mordecai’s ears flicked, the sudden realization and reflection dawning on him. He…could understand this song completely. And he didn’t like it.
“Underground, welcome to the circus,”
Rocky’s eyes lit up at this connection. He hugged Mordecai’s arm in excitement, bouncing up and down. Mordecai only chuckled at this.
“Power down, are you feeling nervous?”
Freckle was nudged by Serafine jokingly: she was pointing out his nervous behavior almost all of the time. Still, she got a smile out of him.
“His voice means to deceive you…”
Nico tilted his head, eyeing Mordecai. Mordecai eyed him back in a knowing way, connecting this to Lacrimosa silently. Serafine nodded at him and her brother.
My voice just wants to lead you…”
Mordecai slipped his hand into Rocky's, squeezing it. In a way, this song lined up to the exact experience he and the rest of the group experienced. It definitely wasn’t a bad thing, but it didn’t mean it was a good thing. He just didn’t know how to feel about that yet.
The band kicked in with a thundering amount of beautiful music, ominously booming before Darrian continued to sing.
“Below the Surface…”
Serafine perked up: she hummed along with the melodies, almost intrigued to see where else this would go.
“Here without purpose,
Did we deserve this?
You’re here to serve…us…”
Cheering broke through, as did applause. This kid had a good voice for sure, especially for being so young. He smiled nervously, waving with both of his hands as everyone was cheering for an encore.
Mordecal felt Rocky lean against him, and he wrapped his arm around the tomcat’s shoulders. Both of them locked hands again, fingers lacing with each other.
“It reminds me of what Lacrimosa put us through!” Rocky exclaimed. Serafine, Nico, Mordecai, Ivy and Freckle turned to face him. Ivy and Freckle had looks that showed how unamused they were, Serafine and Nico chuckled amongst themselves, and Mordecai pulled away from him instantly.
“For Christ’s sake, Roark, don’t remind me.” Mordecai growled out.
“I’m just illuminating that upon hearing this song!” Rocky grinned.
“That really wasn’t necessary…” Ivy shook her head.
“The crowd wants an encore! Maybe it can show how she tried killing us all?” Rocky giggled, tilting his head. Mordecai facepalmed hard, causing Nico to throw his head back and laugh.
“Oooooh, chér,” Serafine smiled, also shaking her head.
“Maybe if it was sung in G Minor, it would be more comforting? Like a lullaby !” Rocky gasped. “A ruined lullaby!”
“I’m done.” Mordecai held his hands up, stepping back. “I do not want to deal with the idiocy of this, good night.” He began walking away.
“Wh–hey! Ole Serious Face, c’mon! I was teasing!” Rocky exclaimed, chasing after him.
“Well…that’s how this night is going.” Ivy leaned against the bar. “But now, I think we should get back to dancing.” She held out her hand for Freckle. Freckle smiled brighter, taking her hand.
“I think I got the hang of it now,” He told her, causing her to beam.
“Good! ‘Cause I’m gonna teach you the hard way of doing the Charleston!” Ivy had a devious grin now, and she pulled him away. He cried out in surprise, and Serafine giggled.
“Aww~ young love. Dat’s cute. Ain’t dat right, Nico?” She elbowed him.
“Yeah,” Nico hummed, leaning back, “wait, where did Peekon go?”
Serafine blinked. She looked around, then saw Mordecai walking off, and Rocky eventually having to get on stage to perform with his violin.
“...I tink,” Serafine began, pointing towards where Mitzi was, “he’s gon’ talk to her.”
Nico looked to where Serafine pointed, and understood. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah…how ‘bout ‘nother round of whiskey?”
“Oh hell yes.”
****
She wouldn’t have expected this.
After the death of Atlas, Mitzi was left to manage a crumbling empire. With Viktor being a begrudging bartender, business slipping, Mordecai leaving, she felt like everything would fail.
She wouldn’t have seen Mordecai coming back in a million years. But now that he did, things seemed slightly less gloomy. Hell, he smiled slightly more than normal. He just seemed… content. After years of seeing his scowl, frown, or annoyance, an air of calmness coming from him was a blessing.
Mitzi couldn’t help but chuckle at the surprise and annoyance on his face whenever Rocky would come up to him with the randomest, and probably dumbest statements and questions. Mordecai didn’t push him away, though: it was…cute.
Ivy continuously dragging Freckle into dancing with her was also adorable. Every step she took, Freckle had to catch up with her. However, along the way, he got the hang of things and was now up to her speed.
Mitzi only watched from a tucked away corner. She was in a beautiful, silk cream dress, with a long feathered boa to pair with it. She wore long gloves, gold bracelets and earrings, and her usual necklace. Her eyeshadow was golden, and her lips cherry red. She seemed happier in this moment, watching the bustling group of dancers. The band was playing well, and finally, that deafening silence was replaced with a satisfied atmosphere.
She toyed with her necklace and leaned back, feeling the presence of her husband’s spirit. A content smile slid across her lips, and her eyes began sparking with life now. She stood up straighter when Mordecai walked over, hands behind his back.
“How are you feelin’, honey?” She asked him. Mordecai hummed.
“Alright: I just needed a minute to calm myself from this boisterous event.” He replied.
“That’s understandable…why don’t you get a drink?” Mitzi suggested.
“Mmm…I would rather not.” Mordecai refused politely. “I want to be alert.”
“Mordecai, sweetheart…” Mitzi put a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing to worry about right now.”
Mordecai’s shoulders dropped, almost as if he were easing. “I’m aware, Mitzi…I just…”
“No, no, you don’t need to explain yourself.” Mitzi reassured. She eyed the audience, watching Esther and Rose talking to Viktor. Rose seemed genuinely fascinated, and Esther was downright shocked and amused: Viktor was recalling the countless memories of him and Mordecai. Mitzi’s eyes shifted over to the band, and how Rocky was furiously playing his violin, and the band was in tune with each other. “Just look at them all: they’re happy.”
“As one should be.” Mordecai noted, playing with his cufflinks. His shoulders dropped, and his ears flicked back. He took in a deep breath, letting his eyes close. He felt Atlas’ spirit around somewhere, and it eased the tension he was originally feeling. Another contented smile across his face.
“...you feel him too?” Mitzi finally asked.
“I do,” Mordecai admitted, “I do feel him…”
“...I bet he’s happy with how far you’ve come, honey.” Mitzi commented. Mordecai looked away, eyes dulling.
“...I suppose he is.” He whispered, eventually coming to terms with that revelation.
“Now, go back out there, and have fun!” Mitzi then encouraged, lightly shoving his shoulder. Mordecai blinked, then rolled his eyes.
“I will, Mitzi, I will…” He told her, but in a softer tone than normal. “...thank you for welcoming me back.”
“Anytime, honey. Anytime.” Mitzi smiled: her heart fluttered when Mordecai smiled back. He looked so much younger when he smiled. She watched him leave and head into the crowd, near the bar too. He was catching up with Esther, Rose and Viktor at that moment, almost like a family reunion: in this case, it was a family reunion.
Mitzi smiled once more, before getting out into the crowd herself: the night was still young, after all.
She was just glad to have things back to a somewhat familiar form of normal again…
****
There have been notes of homicide in St. Louis, Missouri, and everyone was once on edge. Business fell short for the Little Daisy Cafe and the Hotel Maribel, causing both the trio of Marigold and Lackadaisy to put matters into their own hands. With Freckle’s concern, Ivy amusement, Rocky’s insanity, the Savoy siblings’ entertainment, and Mordecai’s migraine, they managed to push past the bad and work to make it all good. They didn’t expect to have to rush into fights like the ones they partook in, yet it seemed to help their bond grow stronger.
The Siren, Lacrimosa Ambrose, was a monster: those in the Rose Brigade were merely pawns for her plan, and she may have found herself a new right hand…who knows: maybe she’ll replace Silas and Mandisa, maybe not. It would really just depend on how she feels later.
There were many things Mordecai learned from all of this: love, loss, anger, bitterness…it came in a cocktail of emotions and actions, some in which he was unable to comprehend.
He was still definitely getting adjusted to it, but he wasn’t complaining. Now he just needed to know what to look out for: the good thing was that he wasn’t alone in this.
With his lover Rocky, the two siblings that claimed him as their younger brother Serafine and Nicodeme, jazz baby princess Ivy Pepper, and Baby-Faced Torpedo Boy Freckle McMurray, it felt like things were better this way.
After all…it was easier to identify what really goes on… Below the Surface.