Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Home by the Sea, Ch 9 (Dying Informant, 37)

[rose_of_pollux]

Title: Home by the Sea, chapter 9: Eyes that Hold Despair
Author/Artist: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Theme(s): 37; In the depths of your existence.
Character: the Dying Informant
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (except for Daniels and Adelo) and the story is!

Cross-posted to 31_days and my journal


Tenderly, the Techie placed the Informant on the ground, trying to unlock the front door again, but even though the skeleton key was unlocking it, the door refused to open.

“Let me in!” the brunet cried. “Let him out! Please…” He sunk to his knees and crawled back to his brother’s side. He could only recall the nurse’s words about how it had taken Daniels ten years to get to the point where he could string sentences together. Did that mean that it would take ten years for the Informant to talk!?

The Techie’s eyes widened in horror as he wondered wildly if his brother would have to go to the mental hospital like Daniels had. He would not let him go-he would not! Schwemphf would insist upon it, though…

“I can’t let him know…” the Techie whispered to the Informant. “I can’t let him know you’re alive, but like this… He’ll take you away…” It had probably taken Daniels so long to talk again because of being in that awful place… With the Techie’s care, it hopefully wouldn’t take ten years. And even then, he knew that the brother he once knew and loved was long gone. But he would do everything he could for this Informant-waiting until he spoke again, reliving old days… He would stay by his side at all times.

The Techie stood up, gathering his silent, motionless brother in his arms. The boy was definitely alive-he was breathing and his pulse was strong. But could anyone call this living?

As painful as it was, the Techie knew that he had to keep talking to him. Perhaps there’d be some miracle…

“I’m taking you back home to ACME…” he said, during the taxi ride back. “You remember ACME, right? The others will be coming back, too-we’ve all been searching for you… In all the wrong places, but we wanted to find you so badly…” He sighed. “We’ve been so lost without you… We all have. The Inspector’s been more quiet than usual… The Messenger doesn’t say it, but I know he’s blaming himself. But it’s not his fault…” He trembled with suppressed sobs. “It’s mine. You were out that day because of me. I didn’t insist on searching for you then and there. I didn’t get there before V.I.L.E. did. I didn’t even think about looking around New York for you. I got myself captured by Double Trouble. And I took you across the threshold…”

He trembled more violently now.

“I was only trying to help…” he said, in a voice so filled with hurt. “And nothing worked…”

“We’re here,” the cabbie said, pulling up to the health food store which served as ACME Crimenet’s front. The Techie paid the man and walked the Informant to the back alley. He was able to walk, but his gaunt, emotionless expression did not change, even as the Techie led him inside the familiar building.

“We can’t let anyone see you…” he whispered. “Everyone thinks you’re dead… and because of that, you had to suffer through so much…”

Fortunately, no one would be up at this time of night. The Techie was able to take the Informant to their room after remotely turning off the security cameras.

“You’ll be safe in here…” said the Techie, gently placing him in the bottom bunk and pulling the covers over him after removing the boy’s trenchcoat. “I’ll bring you food and water. And no one will take you to that mental hospital. I won’t let them-you don’t deserve that…” He glanced sadly at his younger brother. “You don’t deserve this, either. You deserve to have your spirit home, too… not still there in that place…”

The boy did not respond. He continued to stare blankly ahead.

“Can you hear me, little brother…?” he asked, softly. “Do you know who I am?”

He clutched the boy’s wrist, relieved that there was a heartbeat

“You finally realized who I was back there… You came back,” he said. “I… I want to believe that you can come back again on your own…”

He knelt by the bunk, praying for a miracle as his exhaustion overpowered him. Sleep finally came, but it was not a peaceful sleep. He doubted that he would ever have one again.

***********************************

A few hours later, the Messenger and the Inspector came through the alley entrance.

“Are you sure Techie’s tracking signal is coming from here…?” the Messenger asked.

“I’m certain,” the Inspector said.

“But if Techie’s here, and he’s not moving…” the Messenger said. “Does that mean…?” He trailed off, dashing up the stairwell.

“It’s the middle of the night!” the Inspector chided him. “Keep it down, can’t you…!?”

But the Messenger did not-he practically threw the door open and turned on the light.

“Techie…?” he asked, placing a hand on the brunet’s. And then he gasped as he saw the Informant lying in the bunk, staring at nothing. “Infy…? Infy!?”

The Inspector stood in the doorway, stunned as he saw the Informant lying there.

The Messenger placed his other hand on the Informant’s shoulder.

“Infy…? Infy, look at me…” he pleaded, softly. Anxiety filled his heart as the boy remained unresponsive.

“Can you hear us…?” the Inspector asked the Informant, coming over to them.

The Techie groaned, coming awake. He let out a small cry as he realized that the others were both there.

“When did you get back…?” he asked, checking the clock on the bedside table.

“We just walked in…” said the Messenger, softly. “Techie… What’s wrong with Infy? Why is he…?” He stared at the young agent, who didn’t even acknowledge their presence.

The Techie stared at the Informant again, and broke into sobs.

“Techie…!” the other two both exclaimed, trying to comfort the distraught agent.

“His spirit is still strapped in that Home by the Sea!” the Techie cried. “I fought so hard just to get his body out that place…! There’s no way we can go in there to get him out… The door won’t open anymore…!”

“Techie, there has to be some way…” said the Inspector.

“No…!” the Techie cried. “He finally recognized me before I got him out of there… He talked to me… He was getting better…” He buried his face in his hands again. “And then I pulled him over the threshold… And his spirit stayed there…!” He pointed to the glowing green mark on the boy’s shoulder, and the Messenger cried out in horror as he saw it.

The Inspector placed a hand on the inconsolable the Techie’s shoulder.

“You were only trying to help…” he said.

“I should’ve left him there…” said the Techie. “At least we’d still be able to talk to him. We could’ve even stayed with him…” He shuddered. “I wouldn’t have minded being cursed if it meant that I could be with him…”

The Messenger, in the meantime, was checking the boy’s pulse.

“He’s--”

“Alive-I know…” said the Techie. “But we can’t let anyone else know that. Mr. Schwemphf would order him to be sent to a mental hospital…”

“Not to mention that if the Recruiting Officer and the Rookie found out that they stood by while the Informant was still alive, praying for help, they’d never get over it…” said the Inspector. “Imagine how they’d feel, when we’re feeling as guilty as we are now…”

The Techie didn’t know how to reply to this. After seeing what had become of the Informant, he wasn’t sure how he could react to how they didn’t insist on checking to see if they could tried looking for him, or stopping Schwemphf from hurrying Search-and-Rescue-Net along…

He suddenly frowned.

“Why would Search-and-Rescue-Net be so keen on getting away so quickly…?” he murmured. “They wouldn’t have needed all of them to go to San Francisco… Surely they could’ve kept one or two people here… They wanted to not find the Informant on purpose…!”

The others exchanged glances.

“You know… I was in San Francisco…” said the Messenger. “Miss Argent never mentioned anything about a disaster… So that can only mean…”

“We’ve been infiltrated…” the Inspector said, a fist clenched.

The Techie’s eyes flared as the others’ words confirmed his suspicions. He stood up suddenly, startling them, heading for the door.

“Where are you going…?” the Messenger asked.

“To San Francisco,” the Techie replied, his voice rising in fury. “I’m not letting them get away with what they did to him! Look at him! Look!” He sobbed again as he pointed to the emotionless shell lying on the bunk.

“Techie…” said the Inspector, hugging him close. “I understand how you’re feeling… I want to avenge him too, but…” He swallowed hard. “It won’t help to bring him back.” Ironic… those were almost the same words the Techie had told him when they had thought he was dead.

“It’s not what Infy would want you to do,” said the Messenger, also hugging the Techie. “He’d want you by his side-he’d want all of us by his side. And I think we should honor that.”

The Techie glanced into his eyes and then resumed his position by the floor of the bottom bunk. He then proceeded to look into the Informant empty eyes.

“I won’t leave you ever again,” he promised.

And he did not. For the next seven days, he, the Messenger, and the Inspector were by the Informant’s side. They took great care to be inconspicuous-they could not risk Schwemphf finding out he was here. And for the week, they had successfully avoided suspicion, spending most of the time with the Informant, talking to him about their memories they had of him.

“You remember that time I threw a snow cone at that creep who was chasing us that one time…?” asked the Messenger, with a bittersweet smile. “You couldn’t believe that I actually did that. Of course… you started believing it when that creep got angrier. Looking back, it may not have been the smartest thing, but… we were always able to look back on it and laugh. You had a great sense of humor hiding in you for a long time, Infy… It just took getting used to me before you could realize it for yourself… And I’m so glad you did.”

“I have to say…” the Inspector sighed, as he glanced at the catatonic boy. “You amazed me with how much general knowledge you had. It was only a few days after our first assignment. Techie dug up his old Trivial Pursuit game, so we decided to play a round.” He chuckled, in spite of himself. “You were thirteen. All of us were older than you-we were certain that you didn’t have a chance… Turned out, of course, that we were the ones who didn’t have a chance. You nailed every question, and you beat us handily.”

“Beat us…?” the Messenger asked, incredulously. “He thrashed us… He’s been thrashing us every time we’ve played since then. It’s gotten to the point that we know he’s going to win first place; he’s the undefeated Trivial Pursuit champ of ACME!” He sighed. “Infy… you can’t let this defeat you, either…”

“I remember all of those things…” said the Techie, softly. “But the things I remember most aren’t just mayhem and random fun… even though those memories are wonderful…” He brushed the bangs out of the boy’s eyes. “It’s how you always went out of your way to prove that I wasn’t the clumsy klutz that I know I am. It was just after I dropped those circuit boards that one time… I was in the alley, picking up the pieces all by myself, and you came by, asking me why I hadn’t asked you to help. And when I told you it was because I wanted to be alone after what some of the other agents were saying about me and that you should go before they started making snide comments about you… you just knelt by me and helped me pick up the pieces, saying that the boards would’ve been in a worse state if you had been carrying it…” He gave a sad smile, wiping a few tears from his eyes. “It’s moments like that I remember best…”

He trailed off as Mr. Schwemphf’s voice boomed from the PA system.

“Attention all agents!” he said. “Please clean your dormitories and ready them for inspection on the double!”

All three of the agents exchanged glances with each other, and then at the motionless boy. They had completely forgotten about Schwemphf’s weekly inspections.

“What do we do…!?” gasped the Techie. “We can’t let Schwemphf find him!”

“How quickly can you get him out of here…?” asked the Inspector.

“Huh?” he asked.

“This room is the first one in this corridor,” said the Inspector. “He’ll be coming in here first.”

“The Inspector and I could hold him off long enough for you to get Infy out the window…” said the Messenger. “Come on…”

The Techie locked the door after them, his heart pounding in his chest. Yes… he had to get his brother out of here…

The brunet crossed to the window and had just opened it when he felt a deep chill behind him. The Techie froze where he was; without looking he had a terrible feeling that he knew this new presence was not a benevolent one.

And he was right-for when he turned, he was face to face with the teal-skinned spirit of Veran, Sorceress of Shadows.

“Get out of here!” he yelled, standing in front of the bunk to shield the Informant from her. “You’re not going to take him again!”

“Of course not…” Veran sniffed. “Because he’s not even here, isn’t that right?”

“Then why are you here…?” the Techie asked, dreading the answer.

“I’ve been watching you,” Veran said. “All three of you have been trying to get my Little Prince’s spirit back, but with no luck. You must face the facts-this is not a task a mortal can complete. But I could; I could very easily go to the Home by the Sea and use my magic to break the curse upon him. But I need your help. You have the key. All you would need to do is unlock the door, and allow me to enter.” She extended her transparent hand to him. “What do you say? Will you do the one thing that can ensure his return, body and soul?”

It was a tempting offer-oh, a most tempting offer! But… the Informant would never want the Techie to make a deal with this she-devil, even if it meant his freedom…

Wait, what was he thinking!? Even if his spirit was rescued from the house, the Informant wouldn’t be free-Veran would turn him into her pawn again, forcing him to rule with her. How was that free!?

The Techie scowled.

“Forget it,” he hissed. “There’s no point in freeing him from one prison, only to fall into another!”

Veran frowned.

“He’s suffering in that prison,” she said. “I, at least, will give him all the comforts of home… and more.”

“And being forced to turn against us isn’t suffering!?” the Techie yelled.

“Are you so certain that he cares for you as much as you think he does…?” Veran asked.

“Yes…” said the Techie. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Veran’s scowl deepened. There was no more time-the other agents would be coming, and she had wanted to get this over with before anyone else saw her, especially the Messenger and the Inspector.

She swooped down to the Techie, wrapping her teal fingers around his shoulders.

“I’m giving you one last chance to reconsider…” she hissed, pleased at the fear in his eyes. “I don’t know how you survived last time, but I can assure you… Refuse me again, and you will feel a greater wrath of mine than you ever thought possible.” Her eyes flared dangerously. “Will you unlock the door for me?”

Despite trembling in fear, the Techie looked her in the eyes.

“Never,” he vowed.

Veran screeched in frustration, and bolts of dark energy emerged from her fingertips, levitating him and sending waves of searing pain through him. The poor Techie cried out, his body writhing in agony.

Maybe… he thought. Maybe I deserve this for not being able to help him…

The pain increased, and the Techie’s cries became more and more heart-wrenching. He couldn’t even hear the frantic voice calling from the bottom bunk.

“Stop! Don’t hurt him anymore! Techie…! TECHIE!”

Veran gasped, shrilly, and stopped her attack. The Techie fell to the carpeted floor with a groan. There was another thud-someone else had fallen to the carpet, too.

“Go away…” the battered agent heard a weak voice say. “Leave him alone…”

Footsteps and voices could be heard approaching, and Veran decided that perhaps it was best to flee for the time being. She could follow through with her plans some other time, and perhaps, in the process, try to make sense of what she had just seen.

The Techie lifted his head, blinking as he saw the Informant sprawled out on the floor. How had he fallen off of the bunk-in the fight?

Still weak, the brunet crawled over, wondering if he could still muster enough energy to get the Informant out the window. Again, he gathered his brother in his arms.

“Techie… are you hurt? Did she hurt you…?”

“I’ll be alright…” the older agent mumbled. “It was just a…” He trailed off, staring at the Informant. The boy’s eyes were half open and trying to focus instead of wide and empty.

With a slight cry, the Techie pulled up the Informant’s sleeve, glancing at his shoulder. The skin was completely blank. The seal of the house was gone.

“Little brother…?” the Techie breathed, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing.

The boy tried to smile, but flinched from the pain of his wounds.

“Oh, Mama…” he moaned. “I… I hurt all over…” He blinked. “Techie…? Why are you crying?”

The Techie let out a sob of relief, enfolding his arms around his precious brother.

“Mr. Schwemphf…!” they vaguely heard the Messenger yelp from outside the room. “Why don’t you examine this other room first? It’s very--”

He was cut off as the door opened. The Informant and the Techie both looked to see Schwemphf, staring at the Informant as though he had seen a ghost.

“Y-You…” he stammered. “You’re dead!”

“Infy…” the Messenger said, emotions running wild to see him blinking back at him with a look of confusion. “Infy…! Infy!” He rushed forward to hug him.

“You’re awake…!” the Inspector exclaimed, choking up in a very rare display of emotion as he joined the group hug.

“Guys…!?” the Informant gasped. He turned to the Techie as tears of joy poured down his face. “Is this real…!? Are you all real!?”

“Yeah…!” the Messenger said, grinning through his tears of relief. “We’re real, Infy-it’s all real!” His voice cracked from emotion.

The Informant looked around the vaguely familiar room. His mind was still hazy, but he could register one thing.

“Guys…? This isn’t the old house… Where the heck am I…?”

The Techie, who was still hugging him, merely tightened his embrace.

“Home…” he whispered to him. “You’re home at last.”