Epic Mickey: Passion of Oswald

"Wrench, Gremlin! I need your wrench!"

"Right away, sir! Here you go!"

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Oswald the Lucky Rabbit took the wrench the Gremlin handed him and, with a few smart twists, secured the first rocket part that the Mad Doctor had taken back into its proper place. With life and death on the line, he couldn't trust even the Gremlins with the job of returning the parts to their proper places; he had to do the job himself to make sure it was done right.

"Second part, Gremlin! Hurry!"

"Hurrying, sir!"

Oswald took another painful peek out from the rocket at the thinned-out desolation far in the distance. This desolation, along with the oversized inky tentacles that were its cause, was everywhere in Wasteland now. The Blot he had sacrificed so much to seal was now lose again, threatening to finish the destruction the Thinner Disaster had started. And it was all his fault.

All his fault. That the areas were desolated completely. That the Blot could now escape Wasteland and wreak havoc outside. That everyone living here, including himself, was now in mortal danger of being destroyed by the Blot. The Mad Doctor had been right, only those Beetleworx could survive should the Blot triumph...

"Here's the second part, sir!"

"Thank you, Gremlin!"

Oswald placed the part in its proper place and grabbed the wrench once again. He bit his lip trying to focus on the task and keep back the flood of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. A tempest of frustration, anger and humiliation tossed about inside him, rapidly wearing down his previously-formidable facade of self-confidence.

Somewhere out in Wasteland, wielding a magic paintbrush and with Gremlin Gus assisting him, was both the source of Wasteland's agonies and its last hope: Mickey Mouse. Oswald found himself unable to hate his younger brother anymore. Not after seeing him chase off the Mad Doctor. Not after liberating the Blot that had worked with the Mad Doctor from the control of the main Blot. Not after seeing his sorrow in admitting to causing the Thinner Disaster. Not after seeing him so willingly give up his own heart to save both Gus and Oswald himself. And certainly not after Oswald, in a fit of rage, accidentally undid the seal he and Ortensia had put on the Blot.

He had lost too much sealing the Blot in the first place. Now he could lose his children, his own life, everything, due to a moment of long-latent anger coming to the surface. What was wrong with him?!? Was Mickey right, would he give up the heart if he were in the position Mickey had been? Saying "yes" seemed unthinkable, but to say "no" would have been condemning himself with his own words, for he had included himself when he told Mickey some would gladly kill for a heart of their own.

Unable to come up with an answer to Mickey's moral challenge, Oswald entered a state of mental deadlock. Playing the blame game would no longer work, nor would rationalizations. Only facing things head-on would work now.

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"Screwdriver, Gremlin! NOW!"

"Yes sir, I am already aware of the need for haste! There is no need to yell, sir!"

Oswald took the screwdriver, but he was still lost in his thoughts. Why in all of Wasteland was he yelling like that? Yelling was not going to fix the rocket any faster, nor would it defeat the Blot. Only the actions of Mickey, Gus and himself could determine whether that would occur; they would defeat the Blot... or die trying.

After screwing down the last screw on the second part, Oswald called for the third and final part. While the Gremlin fetched it, Oswald took a moment to pull out the locket he had once given to Ortensia. He opened it to see both himself and the love of his life pictured inside; would he ever see her alive again? Would he ever survive this disaster? Or would the Blot consume all to leave only oblivion?

The rabbit noticed a tear trickling down the side of his cheek. He wiped it on his hand, noticed it slowly moving down the hand until it dripped off onto the floor. Just like how parts of the Blot had leaked out the bottle to form Blotlings, he realized. He felt another tear working its way down his face, wiped that one off too; was this his despair and misery oozing out for anyone who could look to see?

"Sir, here's the third part... Did you hurt yourself?"

"...No, I'm fine. Give it here."

Oswald could see the concern on the Gremlin's face, and knew he could not hide his emotions for much longer. He placed the final part, secured the clamping straps, then stopped, unable to keep his eyes open due to how watery they were getting. He sighed once, trying not to break down totally in front of the Gremlin assisting him.

"Are you sure you're alright, sir?"

"I'm not sure, Gremlin. Finish installing the part and check that everything else is in order. I won't be far."

"...Yes, sir."

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The Gremlin gave a questioning glance at Oswald as the latter pulled away and the Gremlin moved into the spot to do the repairs. With one look back, Oswald circled around to the other side of the rocket, cradling the locket in his hands. He had thought the locket was lost forever after Ortensia was taken from him, but Mickey had found it in her house and given it back to him. Returned it rather than selling it for E-Tickets at the museum. Yet another nice thing Mickey had done for him, and all this trouble was how he repaid all that niceness?!

A wave of guilt swept over him, and something like a great dam broke inside, sweeping away any trace of anger or resentment at Mickey still present within him. He leaned against the side of the rocket and opened the locket one more time. Pressing it close to his empty-of-heart chest, he silently let the tears flow down his face.

A voice echoed in his despair-emptied mind: "Revenge is a fool's dream, Oswald. We can do nothing better but to cherish and to love what we still have."

Oswald was startled. Where had that voice come from? It seemed to be Gus's, echoing from some corner of his mind long ignored or forgotten, probably spoken shortly after losing Ortensia. He looked down at the locket, then wiped a few tears off his face and saw them pool in his left hand.

Was this everything he was now? Had he taken on the worst aspects of his own enemy? Had his anger, his resentment at Mickey's success, lead him to become a puppet of the Blot? Was he oozing anger and misery the same way the Blot oozed out its own minions? Mickey may have oozed like the Blot on the outside, but did Oswald become like the Blot much deeper within?  The questions were rapid-fire and hard, shattering any further pretense of control. Oswald closed the locket, not wanting even an image of Ortensia to see him like this, and curled up into a ball, head hanging down. Shuddering sighs quickly turned to sobbing, then to outright weeping, as he felt himself shatter and collapse within.

In that moment, the King of the Wasteland was dying. In the same moment, the brother and best friend of Mickey Mouse was being born.

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When the Gremlin assisting Oswald found him to tell that all was ready, he found the rabbit still curled up, but now with his head in his hands. Oswald was audibly weeping, tears pouring down his face. All the Gremlin could hear was "I'm sorry!" over and over again, sometimes specifically to Mickey, sometimes to Ortensia or his children and sometimes to Wasteland in general.

"Oswald... sir? I've finished installing the last part. Everything should be working for immediate launch, just as you wanted." the Gremlin finally spoke, his voice hesitant, when he dared wait no longer to report.

Oswald looked up, the tears streaking his face, and he gave a weak smile to the loyal servant, representative of a lost kingdom and a fallen king. "Thank you, Gremlin. Now go wait for any sign of Mickey or Gus."

"Yes, sir." the Gremlin replied with a salute before teleporting away, leaving Oswald to his thoughts.

Oswald got to his feet, walked out as close to the edge of the platform as he dared, and strained his still-watery eyes to locate the projector leading into Space Voyage. There, the rabbit stood and waited for Mickey to arrive, firmly clutching the locket in his right hand and tears still coming down his face now and again. He would make up for everything, if only to save Wasteland from a thinned-out oblivion, or die trying...