Mordecai would have to man up, as much as a useless extension could do. Heinrich was heading towards the river now, the sound of water getting louder and louder the closer they got. He could see the excitement in Heinrich's eyes.

He was worried.

He didn't want his brother to be hurt. He didn't want him to be hurt over the fact his face was practically destroyed forever. Crinkling his snout, he waited for them to reach the river's edge.

As Henry came close to the river, he was practically vibrating with excitement. He'd never have fish before, but he would now, and Morty would love it and they'd be happy. As he leaned over to look into the water, he immediately took notice of the reflections.

He saw his brother, wide-eyed and fearful. At what? he wondered, until his gaze shifted over and he saw his own face.

...oh.

Heinrich was staring at himself now, in a horrific, eerie silence. He didn't know what he was thinking. He didn't want to know what he was thinking. He felt thorns trapped in his throat, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

He waited and he waited. But nothing. Heinrich said nothing.

Was he okay? Mordecai didn't know. He couldn't even think of the right words to say, nevermind even finding the ability to bring them up. He glanced into the water.

His brother was absolutely expressionless as he stared into the water. Admittedly, it looked worse in the reflection. The scar looked far pinker, almost red somehow. It started on his forehead and drew down across his snout and around his eyes. It was wavy and bumpy in the water, but there was no doubt that it was thick and ugly, jagged.

Mordecai slowly closed his eyes and waited for his brother to speak.

But Henry didn't speak. But he wasn't scared by the scar on his face and neck, either.

He was scared of the memory.

It unlocked some sort of repressed memory - he remembered it vividly, as if he were reliving it then and there. The buzzing, the concept of another new friend. The thing falling down to him and suddenly everything going red. The pain.

The pain came back to him all at once and before he could control his throat, he was screaming in agony. It hurt. He could taste something coppery that dripped into his mouth, his own blood. He felt something jab into his chest. He couldn't see.

He could only feel. Feel the burning agony in his head, in his mouth. He couldn't stop screaming. There was something else coming down his head again - this time something salty. Tears.

He could hear Morty, but it sounded like he was a million miles away. He hurt so much. He wanted it to stop.

Mordecai didn't know what was going on anymore. His brother was screaming, full-on screaming as if he were being murdered then and there. "Heinrich!" he called out sharply, a waver in his voice. Heinrich failed to respond.

Mordecai wasn't usually one to panic, but now seemed an appropriate time to do just that. He hadn't seen his brother in such a state before, not since... well, he wasn't screaming during that. He was already dead when that happened.

Slowly, he reached out and touched his brother's neck, feeling the harsh sting of water against his eyelids.

Dark. There was darkness and it hurt. He couldn't see and he couldn't hear anymore, just the faint screams. It took him a while to realise it was his own agonized shrieking. He was panting now, violent and loud, and then he felt something new.

A touch.

His brother.

It was like waking up from a dream. His face throbbed and he briefly caught a glance of his face again in the water. Slowly, he turned and he pressed his snout against the side of his brother's head. "I don't want fish anymore," came the breaking voice, quiet.

Mordecai wasn't hungry anymore either. No words had to be exchanged for them both to realise it was time to head back. Their hunt had been wildly unsuccessful, after all. Slowly, the two heads lifted themselves up and slowly began slithering back to the rocks they were previously sleeping in.

It had been a stupidly long day, despite only being awake for an hour.