Disclaimer: I do not own 39 Clues.
Thanks to the amazing Iris Cornelia Jade, who beta-ed this story.
She was fifteen when she found her first clue. Her leg had been broken on the way, so she was sent home to her parents.
"Is that the best you can do?" her mother hissed. Fire flashed in her eyes. "You find your first clue, at age fifteen, I might add, and you break your leg."
"It's hard to believe that you are our daughter," her father continued. "Disgrace to the branch that you are." She sat, face rigid, as she listened to the age-old-speech. Her parents looked at her, contempt replacing the hatred in their faces.
"I'm sorry," her timid whisper carried across the tense silence. "I'll do better next time," she promised.
"If there even is one," her mother snapped. "After failing so badly, do you think the Janus will want to keep you?"
"But I got the clue!" She might have been protesting to a rock, for all that they cared.
Her father snorted. "They would have found it, anyway. Now all you are is a liability. You would have done better to stick with your useless art," he sneered. Cora couldn't help it. She winced. That only served to add to his anger.
"Get out," he said. Her mother's face echoed the same sentiment, so she fled, hobbling on her broken leg. She never saw her parents again.
She'd never paid any attention when he came into her life. He hadn't meant anything to her, just another non-Cahill. About as significant as a speck of dust. She stood at the art gallery, looking at the artworks but not quite seeing them. The only reason she was here in the middle of all these talentless works was to find an agent. An agent that still hadn't shown up.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, gesturing to the lake scene painting. He'd snuck behind her, so silently she hadn't noticed. Inwardly, she cursed herself for not seeing him sooner.
"Some people would say that," she responded, staying aloof. It wasn't a Janus painting, so it held no value to her.
"And what about you?" he countered, watching her intently.
She shrugged. "The colors are bland, and it looks too serene. I wouldn't call it beautiful."
"Really?" he said. There was something about his tone that made her nervous, but she couldn't pinpoint what. "You don't look like you're too impressed by any of the paintings. Why are you here?" She glanced at him suspiciously, even if it was a harmless question, anyone could be a spy.
"I am waiting for a friend," she announced. "And there she is." Min Nguyen entered the gallery as her relieved friend came over.
"You're late," Cora stated the obvious.
"Who's that?" her friend asked, pointing to her confused companion, standing on the other side of the gallery.
"No one important," she said. And it was the truth. At least for now.
The L.A. stronghold was almost deserted. The steel walls seemed to echo in the silence. But inside the meeting hall, two women were discussing the fate of the Janus.
"So," Lorraine was saying."I've talked to Spencer and Hamila, and they agree with me. When I retire soon, you will be the next leader."
"What?" Cora's mouth hung agape. "Are you serious?"
"I'm always serious, Cora," the older woman said coldly. "I have offered you the leadership. You are the best of all the agents." She heard the unsaid words- which is not saying much. "Now, my question is, are you going to take it?"
"Of course-" she began, but Lorraine cut her off.
"I know what you want to say, but can you deal with the burden?"
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly as I say," she snapped. "You will be busy. There is no time for family. Your friend, Min, foolishly left to care for her daughter." She shook her head. "Such, talent, wasted. Now, I have to know if you're committed. I can't leave the leadership to an incompetent girl who will leave after a few months. What do you choose?" Cora's mind reeled from the revelation.
Her leader's eyes clearly said that Cora would be a fool to pass over the leadership. And that was true. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. But was it worth giving up her family? She thought of sweet Jonah, barely a year old. Her son. But she could still see him after he became an agent, couldn't she?
Cora looked up, determined. "I've decided." Her voice was emotionless, flat. "I'll take the leadership." Lorraine's lips curled up into a cold smile.
"It's good to see you've made the right choice. I will see you tomorrow." With that, Lorraine walked out of the stronghold, heels clicking on the steel floors.
She sank down to the ground in relief and confusion. "What have I done?" she whispered to herself. And honestly, she had no clue.
"Mommy," a six-year-old Jonah cried. "Look what I made!" He proudly held up a hand-drawn picture, so excited he could hardly talk. Cora didn't even notice him; she was too busy talking on the phone to an agent.
"Mommy," he tried again, tugging on her sleeve. Her hand rose up as she pushed him away before turning back to her conversation. He patiently waited for the call to end.
"What do you want?" she bit out irritably.
The bright light in his eyes faded for a moment before coming back on full force. "Look what I made!" he proclaimed gleefully. The crude, hand-drawn picture was waved in front of her face.
"Good for you," Cora said, barely glancing at her son's precious drawing. "I'm busy, so go to your father now." When Jonah lingered, she nudged him sharply. He left to go. But before he was out the door, he turned around.
"I'm giving this to you," he announced as he bestowed the gift upon his mother.
"Okay, then," she said absently, already lost in her own world. When he finally left, she stuck the paper underneath a stack of others and promptly forgot all about it. Sentimental value was worthless in the hunt.
She was ready to scream in frustration. Isabel's plan had failed. They had learned nothing of use. Her hand snaked towards the statue as she retrieved the small bug trapped inside. There was no point in it now.
"Thank you, and good-bye," Hope said coldly. Her husband walked over to the door and held it open. Everyone understood the confrontation had failed and filed out. Everyone except Isabel Kabra.
"Oh, you go ahead," she trilled. "I just want to say some good-byes."
As Cora left, she saw a look of fear flash over Hope's face. The same one she had seen when her daughter had given away their plans. She snorted derisively. Fools. Had they not learned yet that trust was a very dangerous thing?
Outside, the idiot Tomas began smacking his fist into his palm. Barbarian, she thought. Soon, Isabel Kabra caught up to them, smiling sweetly.
"It's seems our plan was not as successful as we had hoped," the Lucian leader said. "But no worries. They will see reason soon enough." Something about her smile sent a shiver down Cora's back, but she brushed it away.
"As I said, don't worry. Everything has been taken care of." No one contradicted her words. Suddenly, there was a scream from the house. Four heads snapped towards it. Only Isabel was unaffected, inspecting her nails. Cora watched in horror, captivated, as Hope Cahill ran out, carrying her son and daughter. No one moved to help her, frozen. She saw the young woman urgently say something to her daughter and run back up. The moment snapped, and the Cahills all reached for phones, calling 9-1-1.
Cora followed, only to not be the one standing out. What did it matter to her if they lived or died? The Tomas ran over to a neighbor's and yanked out a long hose. What did the crazy man think he was doing? Did he believe he could put the fire out? And her eyes traveled from person to person, even as she continued to speak to the operator.
Eisenhower had a look of madness in him, blasting the water at the burning flames where it was swallowed up and replaced by more fire. Mary-Todd had cautiously approached the children, murmuring soft words. Alistair had a look of grief attached to his face. And the woman that started this tragedy stood, her head held high, watching in pride as two people perished. Cora finished her phone call and snapped her phone shut.
The flames devoured what remained of the house. And Cora knew she had committed her first murder. With a sense of pride, she watched as the final pieces burned away.
"I'm a Madrigal!" he exclaimed, before sprinting out. All three Wizards stared in shock after him. After it wore off, Cora turned to face Jonah.
"How dare you make a fool out of me?" she spat at her son. "You are a failure to the branch," she raged. "Even Sophie Watson would know better!" Jonah cringed away from her.
"Leave," she turned to her husband. He skittered out. "Now, after doing nothing, you want to quit?" she continued her rant. Suddenly, the look in his eyes made her stop. It was the same look that she had worn at the same age of fifteen. Her parent's words drifted back.
It's hard to believe you're our daughter-Is that the best you can do?-Disgrace to the branch.And she had still become branch leader. But her son on the other hand-
"Mum?" Jonah's voice broke her out of her reverie. Her head snapped up.
"You will not quit," she told him in a tone that offered no room for argument.
"I-" he began, but was cut off.
"Do you understand me?" Frost laced her words and he nodded.
Her face split into a cold smile. "Come on then." He obediently followed like a puppy.
She strode in briskly. Her son lay on the hospital bed, sitting up, pale and in pain.
"Hello, son," she said, her words as soft as poison. He turned to stare at her.
"Mum," he breathed. She smiled at his fear. He should be afraid.
"Tell me, how did it go?" she asked. "It appears that you failed me, again."
"A cabinet fell on top of me," he explained. "There was an explosion."
"And yet you are the only one that is injured," she questioned, eyebrows raised. "Odd, isn't it? You couldn't dive under a table to save your life? Even when the world's power was held in your hands. It seems that you have gotten your just reward, my son." She clicked her tongue.
"Now, tell me what happened to the clues." That is all she cared about. Jonah hesitated. "Now."
"Isabel Kabra. She was there, in the room, waiting for all of us. She threatened us. She had a gun. Threatened to kill Dad if I didn't hand over my clues. I didn't have a choice, so I did. She threatened everyone else, too. Everyone handed over their clues. Then she had all thirty-nine clues. She made the serum. She was going to drink it. Then Ned Starling turned up, and she almost shot him. And then all of us attacked her. The serum was destroyed." All of this came out in a rush, as if saying it faster would make it better. It took a moment for her to absorb all the information.
"So, there were all thirty-nine clues. Why didn't you get them all?" He had been so close to the power, and he had let it slip through his fingers. Inexcusable.
"They could overpower me if I'd tried." Cora made a soft noise of disgust. Weak fool.
"Enough, Cora," her husband cut in. He strode briskly into the hospital room. "He almost got killed, and all you care about are the clues?"
"No," she replied, never taking her eyes off her son. "I care that he let it slip through his fingers. Five hundred years of work, all wasted. And to think that my own son has done it." She laughed, a cold, bitter laugh that sent chills down Jonah and Broderick's spines.
"You weren't there," he said. "You didn't see Isabel Kabra. It would have been suicide to attempt anything."
"So you're taking his side now?" she hissed.
"No," Broderick said. "I am simply doing what's right." This was a side to him Cora had never seen before. His face was set, and there was steel resolve in his tone.
"By supporting a traitor." Her mouth twisted the words.
"By supporting our son," he retorted.
"Our son?" she asked. "He is no son of mine!" Jonah turned away at the words, but Cora didn't seem to notice. "You have a choice, Broderick. You can come with me, or you can stay with him," she said, jerking her fingers towards the boy lying in the bed.
"I'll stay," he said firmly.
"The worthless flock together," she sneered before leaving, the last part of her heart falling away.