A/N: GUYS HELP ME THE LEGO MOVIE FANDOM AND EMMETSTYLE SHIP ISN'T LETTING ME GO. I finally finished this Fairly Odd Parents story, which gives me room for this. I don't plan for this one to be to ultra-long, especially with Remembering You and Redamancy going on, but I just REALLY wanted to do the new Lego Movie trope, the Rex-somehow-survied-the-time-machine-stuff-and-is-now-back-in-Emmet's-timeline-uh-oh. ALSO, I kind of headcanon that when Rex faded from existence, Finn put him into The Bin of Stor-Age. ALSO: This is kind of half-humanized, half-not, read it how you choose. THANKS! :)

You asked who I was,

Like I belonged to a group of outlaws.

You didn't remember me,

When I had hoped you would see.

And now, you are all I think of,

Lucy, my hope, my dreams, my love.

I groan and moan, berating myself for changing.

I toss and turn, wondering if this is dying.

You were my world, Lucy.

I am Emmet Brickowski.

Yet, I live as Rex Dangervest,

Trying my best,

To live without you,

But you have to know, leaving you happened much too soon.

Two Months after the events of Lego Movie 2




Whipping her head around, Lucy found the source of the sweet, sappy battle cry coming from across the plains. She could hardly see her boyfriend, it was as if the expanse of land, dust, and ruins crowded them apart, even as she could run over to him if she chose. "Love you too, babe," she muttered, giving him a small wave from where she stood.

Emmet continued running at invigorating, whiplash, break-neck-speed around the empty field while she watched and the gang unpacked. Like a toddler, cooping Emmet up inside a big, metal, flying tube for an extended period of time may not have been the best idea, especially since all his pen-up energy now exited through sprinting across the battlefields. She smiled. He was adorable either way.

The small dot that she identified as her boyfriend grew smaller, and she hollered, "Emmet, get back here! We need you to help us unpack!"

A reply of any size would not have reached her, but he began running in her direction, so she nodded. "Ok, Emmet's coming." Lucy turned to Unikitty as she unloaded a fuchsia, glittering, light-up suitcase from the jet.

"A little too late, we just got all the bags unloaded," Unikitty laughed. "It's strange being back here, isn't it?"

The nostalgic, bitter scent of dust and despair spoke for itself, Lucy noted. She had inhaled the air so many times over that five-year course, then gone without it so long. Was this nostalgia, or heartbreak? "Yeah, Apocalypseburg kinda went even farther downhill without us here."

Before Lucy could reach to grab her own tri-color suitcase, strong, sweeping arms whisked her heels off the ground and cuddled her by the waist. "Lucy! We're home!" The dust, the bugs, the darkness, none of it had the slightest effect on Emmet. He had his girlfriend, his friends, and an amazing life in general, so why should a slightly dark setting, one he had lived in for years, bother him?

Even Batman cracked a smile at Lucy's laugh. "I know, I know, are you gonna put me down?"

Smiling like a child whose attention had just been stolen away by a piece of candy, Emmet set Lucy down with a careful touch, grabbed her hand and pointed before exclaiming, "Lucy, look! It's our old apartment!"

"Wait a minute, Emmet," Metal Beard shouted, heaving himself out of the plane. "We came here to do a job, not lollygag like a bunch of lovesick teenagers."

"Uh, I resent that," Lucy replied. She paused, tugged on Emmet's hand, his wrist, then nudged him with her elbow with the quick succession of someone who has repeated the action several times over. He nudged her with his shoulder once in reply, the action barely noticed by their friends. "You're right, Metal Beard. Emmet and I are gonna go look this way."

Emmet watched out of the corner of his eye as Lucy brushed a thin, smooth lock of teal hair out of her face, a common thread that fell whenever she lied. He had never shared this fact, no matter how adorable he thought it was. "Yeah, I think The Bin of Stor-Age might be over there…"

His girlfriend nodded. "Way over there. We might not be back for hours, especially if we find anyone in there."

"Or even days!" Emmet slipped his hand into Lucy's and gave it a tiny jerk.

Benny, floating before them, raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you guys want to spend all that time looking over there?"


Benny, Batman, Unikitty, and Metal Beard glanced at each other as Emmet and Lucy froze.

Relenting, Unikitty shrugged her shoulders. "Ok, well, take this," she said, handing Lucy a thin, wiry headset. "If you find it, tell us, ok?"

After a brief, unnoticeable sigh, Lucy accepted, with a moment's hesitation, the hug Unikitty offered. "Got it. Ready to go, Ems?"

The giddy, vibrating energy emitted from her boyfriend could not be hidden, and Lucy knew, from experience and good judgement, that his excitement would give them away if she didn't rescue him in a minute.

"Ok, bye, guys!" Lucy waved, threw the headset in her pocket with a sloppy shove, and grabbed her boyfriend's hand. His elation, as opposed to dissipating, shot through her like an electric shock, and they took off in the dust towards empty air, with space in every direction like an endless ocean.

"Are we almost there?" Emmet shouted above the rumbling of their own sprinting-steps and panting?

"Where are we even going?" Lucy tightened her grip around his hand, like grabbing onto a rock while scaling a mountain with wind pouring downwards. He grasped back, pulled her forward as they ran, and gave her a huge smile.

"I don't know!"

She laughed.

Never before had Lucy laughed like that. She didn't care if the whole world heard her laugh. Emmet smiled, started laughing, and halted in the cracked, worn dirt, expanding like a massive, infinite, torn cloth. His feet tripped out from underneath him, and she fell to the ground alongside him, her laughter never breaking.

Emmet gripped his arms around her, hugged her to his chest and whispered, "I love you, Lucy." The tone contrasted his previous, boisterous laughter, and she propped up against her elbows, watching and promising to remember every detail about him. The way he rubbed the dust and water out of his eyes against his faded sleeve, the neat, untouched, combed-over sweep of his hair, and that ebony, romantic gaze in his eyes that never looked generic to her.

Leaning forward, she pressed a sweet, slow kiss to his lips, the softest kiss she had ever experienced in the hardest, cruelest land. Speaking into the kiss, she murmured, "I love you too." She harbored no desire to deepen it, his presence alone offered her every loving touch she could ever need.

The kiss broke, and she bit her lip at how he, after all these years, still could hardly keep a straight face after kissing her. He always looked like a man who had just escaped a herd of fangirls.

The ground, searing and parched against sun and time, meant nothing as she shifted into his arms. "What should we do?" he whispered, pressing a loving kiss to her hair. She giggled and cuddled beneath his arm, warmth melding against heat.

Well, you could whisk me down to where we first met and propose, but it's really fine, I've only waited half a decade.

'The question' had plagued Lucy's mind for months. They had talked about marriage, of course, that came with a 5-year long relationship. With Unikitty's help, Lucy had dropped hint after hint, bridal magazine after jewelry ad on the coffee table, all in vain.

Was he afraid of marriage? Was she too much? Did he not think he could do it? Did he not trust her?

"You ok?" Emmet tucked a strand of her waved, magenta hair behind her ear, and she gripped around his chest. "Brooding again?" The thought of the war-driven, dark-minded personality returning to his girlfriend sent a vile wave of dread over his stomach, and he held her tighter. Perhaps if he held her close enough, she would know everything was ok, and she wouldn't need to change anymore.

Lucy looked up at him, smiling. "Yeah, I'm ok. Just thinking."

"Good thoughts?"

"Emmet Brickowski and Lucy Emerald, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Her smile widened into her flushing, taffeta cheeks, and she brushed her lips to his, imagining the glow of a church surrounding them, a gown around her figure, and a crowd cheering behind them. "Mmhm, yeah, all good thoughts."


"A monster truck!"

"You already said that!"

"Dang, ok… a giant phone!"

Emmet's hands flew at light-speed, grabbing whatever bricks his mind pointed to. Serial numbers in bold, flashing-white light snapped at the forefront of his mind, and he leapt from ruin to broken wall for every piece. "Done! Give me another!"

"I can't think of any!" Lucy ran through the reels of her mind for any category, any denomination, any item she hadn't already hollered at her boyfriend. "Ok, wait, a quadruple decker couch!"


"Office building!"

"Concert stage!"

Panting, Emmet raised a hand after placing the last brick of a massive, towering podium, fifty feet wide and a hundred feet tall. "Wait…Lucy…I need a minute…"

"You ok?" Lucy asked, stepping across the chips and cracks in the ruined mall floor. Broken, chopped walls lay around her, and her thick boot barely avoided jagged glass strewn around, reflecting moonlight into her eyes. "That was pretty intense."

Following her quiet, contemplative words, Lucy rubbed a warm, gentle hand against Emmet's shoulder. His head tilted at her touch, and he replied through ragged but recovering breath, "Thanks, I tried to be 'tough', y'know?" Teasing tagged along at the end of his voice, and he nudged her elbow, smiling.

"Ugh, that thing again?" Lucy rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's joke. Glass snapped and obsolete paper, crushed and worn, matted into the floor as she stepped closer to him. Her hand brushed with a soft-spoken touch against his, barely locking. "Haven't we been over this a thousand times?"

If any protest existed in his mind, it had no time to voice its meek opinion as Lucy leaned forward, softly kissed him, and brushed a soft lock of his hair away from his face.

If she could save the world, develop the battle-abilities to protect herself and Emmet, and keep from hitting herself over the head during it all, she could convince her boyfriend to buy a ring. "I love you, you know that, right, babe?"

The nickname…

The term had earned its prestigious spot in the Hall of Things that Melted Emmet's Heart early on, perhaps the first time she had used it. However, it was not without its drawbacks, as Lucy had also learned quickly. Emmet broke the kiss she had pressed forward into, eyeing her skeptically, yet stuttering through a light flush the whole time. "Lucy, wh-what are you up to? You only call me that when you want something."

Resuming the kiss, her hands found their way to his. "I wouldn't say that."

"I would," he replied through what words he could mumble into her lips. "Wh-what was I talking about again?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I."

Just as his hands wrapped around her waist, hugging her close against him, she broke the kiss on impulse. A wave threw itself over her mind, drudging every happy thought she had owned. This was not a knew feeling. This was only the first time she acted on it. "Emmet, you love me, right?"

His shoulders fell, but his hold around her only tightened. She had to appreciate how he never questioned her motives, actions, or sudden choices, which, she had to admit, happened often. "Of course, but are you ok?"

"Yeah, it's just…" Was it wrong to bring it up? Would she put him in an awkward spot? She glared at her own feet, avoiding his gaze. Now she was the immature one, always dreaming of tomorrow and wishing it could be today. "…I was wondering, I mean…"

"Hey, you can tell me, right?" Emmet gently, carefully, lay a soft kiss on Lucy's trembling lips. "I'm always here for you."


"We do everything together, remember? We're a team."

"Emmet, look."

"Are you ok? Your eyes are all big. I mean, it's cute, but you look kinda terrified."

Lucy broke into her boyfriend's rambling, revolved his view by the shoulder, and held him to look up at a massive, denim, mountain of a box, from another world yet as terrifying as the fear at two in the morning when a howl screams out in the night. The box cast a shadow too large to see the end or the beginning of, the edges fading away miles past where they stood. "Emmet, it's…"

"…The Bin of Stor-Age." Emmet's quivering, clammy hand of artic fear clamped on Lucy's, and he wasn't sure if her grip back meant he had nothing to fear, or if he had every reason to be afraid. "I…I can't believe it's here. Should we go look?"

Maybe it wouldn't be bad. Maybe they wouldn't find anything. Maybe they would go in, find out it was empty, and go on with the vacation. "Yeah," she replied, swallowing down the scratching, grainy quake in her throat. "We came here to check it out, right?"

"Don't let go of my hand, please?" Any insecurities about his nervous, occasionally cowardice had melted away long ago, leaving behind a fiery desire to protect and be protected.

She gripped tighter, and they took the first step towards the peak. "Of course."

The box seemed to grow closer on its own with every step they took, as if it knew how they dreaded opening it. Their miniscule, insignificant steps dragged them along like children to the dentist. Speed meant nothing. They were going to get there, no matter when.

Too soon, much too soon, in Emmet's opinion, they halted at the beginning of the wall. It soared into the stars, seeming to lay just at the moon's edge. "Uh, should we build to get up there?"

"Yeah," she replied. She motioned to a nearby building, cracked in half and still rumbling, and he followed her in quiet, sober attitude towards it. "Ready?" Lucy bent down, one hand and knee on the ground, her frazzled mind unsure whether or not to produce instructions and show her serial numbers, or run screaming into her boyfriend's arms.

Lucy winced at the way Emmet's shoulder's trembled, the unsteady quiver in his breath, and the sheepish, lying way he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good."

With a nod, they set to work.

Emmet grabbed a piece, followed by Lucy's, then he would place one, and so on, all of this repeating at least three times within the course of one second. Within a minute, they had built a grand, towering, rickety staircase, about halfway up to the flat, sharp lid.

Just as Lucy went to slam down another step on the structure, Emmet went for the same part. "Sorry," they mumbled in unison. The apology only met the air when they had moved on to other pieces, and since then even more.

Lucy's hands hesitated as she went for more bricks. We messed up? We're always in sync. "You ok?" she panted, crashing four more pieces onto the staircase, now wobbling and shuddering as if the cold, numbing breeze was too much for it to handle, either from fright or lack of spine.

"Uh, yeah." Emmet paused. He couldn't make his mouth and hands work at the same time. One or the other. He paused, stood at the top, and asked just loud enough for her to hear, "You?"

At whiplash pace, Lucy continued placing brick after brick on their creation. "Uh-huh."

She knows what she's doing.

Face searing and crimson, Emmet leapt back down to grab more pieces, and back up to the dizzy, unsteady structure, only growing thinner and thinner as they built up to the top. Bricks flew out of his hand faster than he could push them down, and Lucy built right next to him, until one, small, six-peg brick hit the smooth, frosted, arctic lid. It burned with the type of cold one only achieves by leaving something in a secluded, underdeveloped room for a lingering amount of time.

Emmet gulped for breath, and some comfort shushed him when he saw Lucy seemed equally out of breath. "That was…" he sat on the precarious, jagged edge of the bin, staring down at their faint structure.

A hand met his, and he gripped it tightly. His girlfriend's head lay on his shoulder. "…harder than normal."


Despite her mind, having existed in this situation before, warning her to not look, Lucy took the smallest, safest peek she could at their work. A brick lay out of place there, the sloppy framework mocked her, at least fifteen bricks lay scattered around the staircase. All the mistakes were hers.

"We can do better than that," Lucy murmured.

"I was nervous."

While his voice had not displayed any negative emotions, guilt and shame splashed across the half of his face she could see, and he hid his gaze from her. "I…I wasn't thinking straight, I just don't know what we're going to find in here."

Pressing a warm kiss to his cheek, Lucy replied, "I was nervous too. I don't want to go in there."



Finally, Emmet cracked a smile. "We'll do it together, right?"

She didn't know how much she had missed his optimism until it was gone. She never did. "Yeah," she said through a smile. "Together."

After Emmet helped Lucy stand up, for chivalry purposes, they stared at the lid beneath their feet, mocking and pointing its finger at them. Emmet rubbed the back of his neck, eyeing the edges of the lid behind him. "Uh, I just realized that we're kind of on top of the lid we're supposed to take off."

"Here, take this."


Practice and sheer repetition of working with Lucy had prepared him for moments like this, moments when she threw shop objects at him and trusted he could catch them, even when he flinched every time. "What do we do with this?" he asked, eying the piercing, corner brick in his hand, matching Lucy's. He giggled, "Hey, Lucy, we're matching!"

If anyone knew when to make a joke to lift her spirits, it was, and always would be, Emmet. "I made sure of it. Here, come with me."

Emmet followed her as she stepped, after testing the waters, onto the quivering structure, swaying and blowing with the wind. After a moment, where more of the lip-biting came from Emmet, Lucy smiled and whispered, "It's fine, come on."

Shaking his head, Emmet motioned to the shuddering staircase she stood on. "Get off that thing."


"You're going to fall."

It was sweet, the way he protected and cared for her, but at the same time, she had to keep them moving. Goodness knows he could be as stubborn as her, and the frost of the night would stop their circulation if she let him fight her on this. She grabbed his hand, yanked him onto the structure, and rolled her eyes as he clung to her, even as the act painted pink on her cheeks. "Then we'll both fall. Together, right?"

While Emmet seldom owned any attitude, once in a while, it showed. He raised an eyebrow and titled his head. "You're gonna use that against me now?"

Grabbing his wrist and guiding him to stick the triangular brick under the lid, and doing the same with hers, Lucy replied, "Yup. Now push."

He did as instructed, and they both slammed their bricks into the wedge between the lid and the bin, until it gave with a snap that rumbled like an earthquake around the bin for a solid minute after.



Musky, ancient-scented dust wafted into their breaths, yet all they could see in the sliver was pure, total, oily darkness. No movement, no light, nothing shone out, not even a shadow. Their pieces fell from the wedge, and they could have held a full conversation before they hit the ground with a tiny, piercing clank. They imagined that, if they fell, it would make a similar sound.

Emmet gulped. "Should we get in there?"


Grabbing his hand, Lucy whisked them onto the lid, then maneuvered, with some difficulty, into the box, her hand still on the spiked, jagged edges. She held out her other hand to Emmet. "Come on, it's only pitch-black darkness, how bad can it be?"

"Very, very bad, I'm guessing," he replied, grabbing her hand. It was warm, steady, calm and constant. She never faltered, even as he trembled climbing down next to her. He only gripped her hand tighter as his grasp on the bin weakened and slipped, as if holding onto her could save his life. "What do we do now?"

"Great question." Lucy peered down to the bottom, and if she squinted, closed one eye, blinked the other, and lied to herself, she could see the beginning of bricks was not far below them. "We jump."


"We'll be fine, the bottom is practically right below us!"

"Lucy, I don't call fifty-feet 'right below!'"

Reaching up, Lucy unhinged his trembling grip from the bin, and he clutched onto her hand, his only connection and protection from the full, merciless force of gravity. "You trust me, right?"

"I trust you, it's gravity I don't trust!"

Even as their lives hung in an obsolete, dusty, murky ocean of bricks and obscure matter, Lucy smiled at her boyfriend. "Gravity's on my side, Ems."

In a split-second decision, Emmet chose to voice in thoughts, ones he probably should have kept silent. "My girlfriend, master of physics and all matter."

Lucy smirked, and replied in a gentle voice that tapped the bottom of the bin, "Well, just for that, sweetie…"

Emmet gulped.

Lucy let go.






Lucy pushed herself up off the sharp, jutted bricks, finding a smooth place to stand, right on top of a thick, eight-peg brick. "We're fine. We fell."

After a brief, doubtful moment, Emmet cracked his eyes open, and darkness shook his hand and offered to sell him life insurance, a deal he would have made on the spot. "Lu-Lucy? We have a way to get out of here, right?"

"We have bricks, that's good enough for me." Lucy dug into her pocket and found the headset Unikitty had given her, the source of the only light in the bin emitted from a small, circular, blinking red light. "It's almost out of charge. Unikitty? Are you there?"

There was no reason for Emmet to stand there as his girlfriend tried to work the contraption, so he did what he did best:


A sense of fun existed in wandering through the dusky, tangible, oily darkness, so thick he could wave his arms though it and feel dust scratching his hands. Emmet imagined that if it weren't for all the grainy dust and musk, he could see three steps in front of him. The even collection of bricks flattened out into an almost-smooth transition across, yet he had no idea if the wall of the bin stood right in front of him, or ran farther and farther with each step. "Lucy?" His cry echoed back at him off the walls, and he spoke slowly to savor the effects. "Is Unikitty on the headset?"

"I just lost her, the stupid thing died," she replied, an unknown distance apart. Emmet guessed a few feet, Lucy assumed nearly a mile in the opposite direction. "Where did you go?"

No response echoed back.

"Emmet?" It was unlike him to play a joke on her, and the possibility fled her mind as quick as it had come. "Emmet, come on, this isn't funny." Attitude and early, immature annoyance choked her voice, and she crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at the ground like he reflected at her.

Her chest tightened. Was her heart still beating? A hand raised to where the saving grace was supposed to drum steadily on, and a faint, rapid hum tapped back. "Emmet!"

Nothing but her own cry echoed in return.

Now, she was sure of it, her heart had frozen in her chest.

Her steps collapsed on each brick as she ran in any direction she chose, turning and whirling in foolish hope that her boyfriend would somehow pop up, smiling and waving, exclaiming that he had only played a trick on her.

The next step she took never hit the ground, as frigid, hard hands grabbed her wrists, spun her around, and dead eyes stared into the tornado of her soul. The eyes she faced softened, the hands melted, and every muscle relaxed. She had never seen a more broken individual. Concrete, bloodshot crimson coursed through his darting eyes. He smelled of musk and terror. He grinded his teeth. His cold hands shook as they bound tightly to her wrist.