The Beginnings of a Young Reporter

Chapter I

Restless

It has been a hard night.

The adult female has never so stressed since she moved back to Brussels. Not even a week has passed since the incident, and she was wishing to be dead. Like many women out there, Germaine never figured out her husband was working for the mafia. The pay the man received every fifteen days was a little suspicious. She didn't mind after all, thinking he was receiving a better pay after moving to Paris.

Husband and father, informant, and now a gangster? Who was the real one?

All of them.

In the first minute, he acted like a loving husband and caring father, at the second, he was scared, doubted about his decisions, and feared to be killed at the middle of his job, and, at the third, he was a nightmare.

She remembers being verbally attacked by the man she chose as her mate. He even tried to slap her just because. Instead of running, Germaine decided to stand up and remained protective. The translator was always thankful the male didn't hurt her little bundle of joy when he was in his "madness moment".

Germaine recalls once having a black eye, and didn't want to report to work. Sadly, she went to the building like always, because "her daily routine was forcing her to", but this time, she tried to cover her damaged eye. The only one who saw her secret was the editor. He had a few feelings for her, even knowing she was already taken.

After seeing it, he didn't doubt her husband was the responsible for it, and called a few police contacts a few minutes later after the translator left to home.

When the officers knew about the man's personality disorder, he was taken to therapy for about two months. The female also recalls her husband swore revenge. Something funny here, is that he no longer remembered the times he beat Germaine down after the sessions ended.

Remy continued his job as an informant, like if nothing happened.

The scene was replaying on her head every time she got her baby boy off to sleep.

Multiple personalities are trouble for those who have them, thinking they are
"tons of souls merged into one person, fighting always for the total control of the entity".

Now, she lived in an apartment in Labrador Street, near "Le Vingtième Siècle". To be precise, the same one where she used to live before moving with her husband to his apartment, then, to Paris.

As soon as Germaine was about to sleep, a loud crying was heard.

She sighed and went directly to her son's crib.

Yeah, she admitted her boy had very powerful lungs, possibly courtesy from his paternal grandfather.

She took him in her arms and started to sing a lullaby. Somehow, it was not working. And also she couldn't recall why was he protesting on not to sleep.

Then she remembered why.

It was Remy the one who got him off to sleep by singing him the same lullaby she was singing. Now it was obvious the boy missed his father a lot. It was like he knew what meant when he freed his finger from his little palm in the train station that day.

The baby kept crying. All he wanted was to feel his father's presence and hear his voice. Because he didn't get either, Augustin, as the boy was called, continued crying.

His mother continued to lull him and singing him a few lullabies, even if he didn't appear to approve it.

After like a half an hour, the little human finally slept.

Now, it was silence the only thing that was being heard.

Germaine was relieved. As I mentioned before, it has been a hard week since she got separated from her husband, and, in times, she misses him, his smile, his hair, his voice... his company.

A good thing was, she just got a few days left before going back to work. Helleputte was told, by his contacts, Remy was murdered in his sleep by a gangster, thus, making him gave the female a week off.

But, who will be taking care of her baby meanwhile she's working?

The first people who crossed her mind were her parents. Then, she mentally slapped herself. Germaine remembered her parents telling her not to return, nor contact them, because she chose to "screw her life with weird words nobody understands", plus she married a "person who deals with bad people". The disapproval and disowning her made her feel she was alone, and wanted to cry. The translator then looked at her son, sleeping. She kissed his forehead and the little boy opened his eyes. Those reminded her of her "deceased" husband. Germaine nodded and smiled back to her son. She looked again and figured out her little bundle of joy was searching something to squeeze. She gave him her index, and felt like very soft clay surrounding her finger.

The boy was now smiling. Germaine then kissed his forehead and put him back on his crib.

She returned to her bed, and finally managed to get a rest.

The next day, Germaine woke up and took her son to the park. Mr. and Mrs. Finch, who were walking by with a few goods, saw her and went towards her.

-Hello, Germaine!- Mr. Finch greeted, and then, his sight concentrated on the bags under her eyes.- You didn't rest well, did you?- said now with a worried tone.

-No, Mr. Finch.- She replied.- And I apologize about my son's constant crying.-

-We understand, you know.- Mrs. Finch said.- Those makes us think there are children around... and that makes us happy.-

-Really?- Germaine asked.- May I ask why?-

-You just happened to ask.- Mr. Finch replied with a smile.- Well... my wife and I are not able to have children, and we've been annoyed by that "eternal" silence...-

-But then, you returned, and your son's crying is like music for our ears.- Mrs. Finch added

-So...- Germaine wondered.- You don't mind if I...-

-Of course we don't mind.- Mr. Finch "replied" to Germaine's favour.- It'd be an honour to babysit Augustin while you're out.- said showing a smile

Germaine sighed with relieve.

-You don't know how much I thank you for this.- She said

-It's just nothing, dear.- Mrs. Finch said.- We'd like to know we took care of a young while we still have the energy before our hair turns gray.-

Mr. Finch gave a friendly laugh.

-So, I hope you get some rest, Germaine.- He said.- We don't want you to sleep during your work.-

-Thanks.- She replied.- And I'll try.-

Then, they left to where they were going.

Mr. and Mrs. Finch were feeling alive when they knew they were going to take care of the baby. Many years of trying to have children will finally be "fruitful". All they needed to do was to wait.

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A/N: Yeah, yeah. Short chapter is short, I know.

Blame X-Ray Dog and its "From the Heart" track from the "Canis Rex I" album.

I'm not sure if there's a Mr. Finch around in the original comics (too lazy and tired to remember). This is my fanfic, so get over it.

For those who might not get a few stuff here, go and search "The Circle of Paris" and read "Chapter 8: Truth be Told" (promoting fanfic, lolz!).

I should be writing the next chapter of "Tintin in Mexico" instead of this.

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