Summary: If they were really friends, this problem never would have come up. But if they were truly enemies, it would have been a lot easier to deal with.
Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.
Carmen knew something was wrong.
This sort of silence among her minions was never a good sign. In fact, based on her previous experiences, the master thief knew it was utterly dire.
The last time her henchmen went quiet like this, the next major source of noise had been someone trying to put a dagger in Carmen's back. Trying being the operative word… Thank goodness for sweaty palms. Did wonders for the life expectancy when assassins accidentally dropped their weapons.
Usually, after a heist, the mood among the criminals was raucous and joking. Widely grinning, her henchmen would tease and congratulate each other, pleased to be out of jail and excited to spend their pay.
Though some nights, Carmen found the half-drunken mirth grating, by in large she knew it was a happy dynamic. So, it was her practice to simply take a few aspirin and let the party proceed. With her own judicious supervision of course.
Tonight, the mood was vastly different.
Eyes shifted and hid. No one met Carmen's gaze. Her henchmen clustered around one man, talking behind their hands, with protective mannerisms.
Carmen felt almost jealous. She knew, from experience, that she could literally cough blood and not garner such sympathetic glances.
Then again, her employees feared her. In all likelihood, Carmen was forced to concede, that was a smart choice on their part. This henchman was more a kid-brother type. Cute incompetence could be a bit endearing. Bumbling, but adorable…
And hurt, Carmen realized. She could recognize pain in his eyes. The master thief had hidden her own maladies more than often enough to see through this translucent facade.
"Where are you injured?" Carmen demanded sternly, watching the ring of supporters contract around the victim.
It was almost as if they sought to protect Carmen's lackey from her. Odd. She would never harm her employees for getting injured. Typically, she even paid their medical bills.
"I'm not hurt." He retorted, but it was a clear bald-faced lie.
"Don't be childish." Carmen admonished. "I can see you wincing." How could they think she would miss something so obvious? Did they think her blind?
The master thief watched her minions exchange nervous glances and her henchman finally lifted up his shirt.
The master thief's eyes went wide when she observed the discolored tissue. "You've broken ribs." She breathed, reaching her hand towards him before she realized it frightened him.
The man looked abashedly at the ground.
"You need to go to a hospital or at least see a medic for this." The boss ordered firmly, recovering her authoritative voice. "That looks terrible. You must be in so much pain."
Curious whispers broke out all around. Carmen felt puzzled. The man's injuries were sickening, true, but an accident was no cause for rage. They all looked as though they half expected her to draw a knife and run him through. That was very odd indeed because not only wasn't she violent, Carmen wasn't even angry.
For some reason, though, the entire group expected her to be.
That begged the question…
Raising her eyebrows, Carmen inquired carefully. "How were you hurt?"
"It's nothing." Her minion covered, far too quickly. "I just misjudged something. It was a clumsy move, boss, and it'll never happen again. I promise!"
Carmen made her voice even more gentle because somehow, it seemed, she was still frightening him. "What did you misjudge?" She prompted.
"I… " He stammered in terror.
"Tell me." The master-thief instructed, attempting to look less intimidating.
Had he been a dog, his tail would have been between his legs "A kick…" he confessed, shivering.
"What?" she snapped, far too loudly. Silently berating herself, Carmen brought her volume back to a more reasonable level. "Are you telling me you got this in a fight?"
The thief could sense the eyes of the group on her and detested feeling so out of her element. However, it would explain both his hesitation and the curiously observant group if there had been some sort of infighting among her employees.
"Who kicked you?" The boss asked sternly.
He looked hastily around at the surrounding people
Carmen repeated herself. "Who kicked you?"
"I…." He stuttered. "Uh…"
Cobalt blue eyes met his shifting ones.
"Agent Ivy!" He blurted out loudly.
Dead silence.
Carmen abruptly felt as though she was the one who'd taken the kick to the stomach. Her mouth dropped open and her chest tightened. "Ivy?" She asked, in a tone of utter shock.
The injured man looked around, as though he wanted to escape. "Yeah boss…"
Though she knew an expression of consummate confusion was dominating her face, Carmen couldn't manage to moderate her expression. She could feel the sharp stabs of her own heartbeat striking her eardrums.
"Ivy?" Carmen whispered, still incredulous, staring at the accuser.
A few beats passed as the employees worked up their nerve.
"She hits really hard boss." The thief heard one of the spectators say, softly but suddenly.
"Broke my nose last month." Another added, a bit more loudly.
Everyone abruptly began talking at once, shouting over each other.
Carmen just stared, unable to process the information.