This is the sort of thing that happens when my brain takes on a life of its own. The random idea just spreads and grows like a virus. Add in the fact that I keep trying to work out a semi-logical explanation for things that weren't even considered in the show and didn't need a justification. I over analyze things and keep trying to devise some form of reason for how things happened, like why Penny would call her uncle "Uncle Gadget" rather than using a first name like most kids do their aunts and uncles or other such minor details. As I stated, I am probably insane. On the other hand, sanity is rather boring.
There wasn't much that survived the destruction of the lab. The whirling machines that lined the walls were nothing more than smoldering remnants of metal and the ceiling collapsed inwards during the explosion. Any research that once resided here was undoubtedly lost, meaning that her determination to keep her creations out of evil hands was at least a success. There would almost certainly be rescue units arriving in search of survivors. An explosion wasn't subtle and people would be concerned.
There would not be much to find. Most of the former occupants of the lab were already beyond help. At least it was quick. The husband and wife went together, gone too quickly to feel any pain. That was at least a small kindness.
But even with the forces involved, one heart still beat stubbornly.
The body of John Gadget would not be easily recognized as being alive or even as being a person. Heat, shrapnel, and explosive forces broke the man far too easily. Flesh and bones tear and shatter in response to the detonation. His arms and legs were nothing more than useless, bone-shard-filled, lumps of burnt flesh that would never again function. The only reason those injuries hadn't caused him to bleed out already was due o the heat cauterizing the worst of it.
And his heart kept beating.
When he hit the wall, thrown by the force of detonation, his limbs were not the only bones to break. Ribs cracked, vertebras fractured, and the back of his skull shattered into fragments that quickly started poking into his grey matter. Unconsciousness was a blessing since pain would have easily overwhelmed him. Most would prefer it to lying awake during their undoubtedly final moments.
Still, his heart continued to struggle beating.
Internal bleeding, unlike the external injuries, was not inhibited by the damage from the heat. There was no cauterization to stop blood from leaking into the chest cavity. Each breath was shallow and ragged, only chance preventing the lungs from being punctured by broken ribs each time he inhaled. Even he fleeting possibility of survival was slipping away with every moment. There were simply too many injuries to one man's battered body to keep alive.
Yet the beating of the dying inspector's heart continued, stubbornly and almost desperately clinging to life.
When the first responders managed to reach the lab, no one expected to find many survivors. When they found the broken figure crumpled on the ground, clearly suffering from debilitating and almost certainly fatal injuries, they held little hope that they would be able to transport the victim to the necessary medical care without him dying along the way. And even if by some miracle he managed to hang on long enough to reach a hospital and he was stabilized, they knew he wouldn't have much quality of life. There was simply not enough left of him to salvage.
But his heart still kept trying to beat.
Fate occasionally decided to smile on someone who deserved it or played a cruel joke, depending on how you viewed it. Or maybe it was simply his odd luck acting up again. The late Sophie Gadget's association with Professor Von Slickstein, the Metro City's police force and those in higher power's interest in the peculiar inspector, and Chief Quimby pointing out the fact that there was an orphaned little girl whose only living relative was barely hanging onto life all meant that they were willing to take a long shot. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was the only one that might result in his survival. They just needed to keep him alive and stable long enough for the attempt. Something that seemed unlikely after they saw what remained of Inspector Gadget.
Yet, even as his body tried to surrender to the damage during the wait for help, his heart continued to beat in the broken remnants of his chest.
But the fragile organ was beginning to falter in response to the trauma. After all, he was only human. There was only so much he could survive.
Before the heart could completely stop beating, Von Slickstein arrived with a more usual surgeon and the necessary equipment for the radical and experimental procedure.
Dr. Lewis knew what was being asked of him and wasn't sure he could do it for multiple reasons. The man in front of him, an inspector from what he'd been told, was almost too far gone for any of his skills. It was certainly too late for most modern medicine to save him. But Professor Von Slickstein, an undoubtedly brilliant man who could craft mechanical wonders, intended to test several new creations by installing them in this man and might even keep him alive in the process. At least no one was trying to quote "The Six Million Dollar Man," regardless of how appropriate the line about rebuilding him might be.
Dr. Lewis's role was to stabilize the patient during the installation, repair what damage they needed him to, and to handle the organic half during the connections. After all, Von Slickstein might develop devices he intended to place in the human body, but he wasn't a medical doctor.
And as a man of medicine, Dr. Lewis could honestly say that he had his work cut out for him. Even the briefest examination demonstrated all four limbs were beyond salvaging. The extent of the internal injuries were more difficult to judge with just a cursorily glance, but they were almost guaranteed to be extensive. He couldn't be certain how much damage was done to the organs, but that would be one of the first repairs he'd be focusing on. That and assessing the condition of the patient's brain. All of Von Slickstein's crazy improvements would be useless if his intended test subject turned out to be brain-dead.
That was the real heart of the matter. Dr. Lewis could accept and understand the necessity for mechanized limbs to replace those destroyed by the explosion. Prosthetics had existed in one form or another for at least centuries. After all, what were peg-legs and hooks on pirates but attempts to deal with lost arms and legs? And anything designed to help failing organs continue to function or to replace them completely if no donor could be found certainly offered possibilities. These were logical steps to save lives and provide a higher quality of living for those suffering health-wise. That certainly fell under his oath as a doctor. The rest of Von Slickstein's proposed improvements were more problematic. A helicopter coming out of the man's head? How was that necessary for a life-saving procedure? And fitting all those gadgets in the patient's body could quite easily break his promise to do no harm. In order to fit the mechanical aspects into the confined space, something would have to be removed. Even Von Slickstein's space-saving designs could only do so much to get around the laws of physics: two objects could not occupy the same spot at the same time.
It was a hard dilemma for him. Dr. Lewis could either work with Professor Von Slickstein to install the mechanical additions to the patient, both the necessary and the superfluous. Or he could turn it down and hey could struggle to find another doctor more willing to work with the inventor, though it was doubtful the patient would survive the delay consider his condition. In the end, he could either risk the harm to the man's remaining body by assisting in the installation or he could sign the certificate of death when another surgeon arrived too late. Of those choices, Dr. Lewis knew he'd rather start picking skull fragments out of the patient's brain and search for ways to maneuver the grey matter so that Von Slickstein could fit in his alterations without destroying the man's mind completely.
As he took a scalpel in hand, preparing to slice into the broken chest of the patient in order to begin damage control, the brief question of how much would remain of the man flickered through Dr. Lewis's mind. He'd read Isaac Asimov's work in the past and it made him wonder. How many circuits and wires did it take to go from being human to being a machine? Would the microchips connected to the patient's synapses be the new him or would he still be the same man he was before the accident, albeit with some metallic additions? Perhaps it was best Von Slickstein's overzealous designs lacked more mundane weaponry such as a gun. A man who became an inspector might have a good heart and could be trusted with such a thing, but only time would tell if that man would be the one who woke up.
Whether he awoke man or machine, Dr. Lewis would do his job to ensure his patient survived long enough for those questions to be answered. He would heal the organic while Von Slickstein dealt with the mechanical. For good or ill, he would fulfill his oath.
With that firm decision, the doctor began the hurried search for the worst of the internal bleeding and failing organs.
Hours passed. Engineering and modern medicine worked together to create something new and far beyond what either field ever imagined before. Blood and oil flowed side-by-side through the formerly-dying John Maxwell Gadget. The bionic man was slowly and gradually taking shape into something that could survive, both the organic and metallic aspects supporting each other. Microchips inserted into the skull converted the signals of metallic limbs and sensors into something understandable to the human mind and vice versa. Broken vertebras were replaced with metal to protect vulnerable nerves and newly-added wires alike. Internal organs were repaired, strengthened with mechanics, or were completely replaced with devices intended to fulfill the original's required role. And Von Slickstein's various gadgets were installed into the man named Gadget. It wasn't perfect; one of the individuals performing the work knew very little about higher technology and the other only understood the mysteries of the human body in theory. Mistakes were bound to occur, but none would prove to be fatal or overly incapacitating to the inspector on the operating table. His heart, still human and only mildly augmented to help it fulfill its new requirement concerning his less-human aspects, continued to beat in his repaired chest.
But while he lay unconscious, having his body transformed without his knowledge, his last living relative faced the reality of what occurred. Penny Dollar was a brilliant girl, just like her parents before her. She understood perfectly well what an explosion at the lab meant. Her parents and Uncle Gadget were there at the time. She knew that. She knew what Chief Quimby, with his apologetic expression and soothing tone, was telling her when he said her mother and father would not be coming home. Even someone not as intelligent as her understood what the word "orphan" meant. And even though Chief Quimby tried to offer hope by mention that her uncle was alive, though in critical condition, Penny knew better than to consider the possibility. It would only hurt more when she found out she lost him too. And her heart already hurt too much. Everything except her puppy was gone and it would never get any better. It was just her and Brain. She was alone.
Chief Quimby took her home that night, believing it to be his duty as Inspector Gadget's superior. He could at least keep a roof over the child's head until the fate of her uncle was known. He'd already pulled a few strings to keep social service from taking charge of her during her uncle's current state. The only other place she might go if the inspector did not survive would be an orphanage or foster home. Her future depended solely on whether the experimental procedure saved her uncle's life.
So when Inspector Gadget stabilized fully and it became clear he would live, though questions about the effects on the man still remained, Chief Quimby felt relieved to inform the heart-broken girl that her uncle was out of immediate danger. And he searched for a way to explain what it took to achieve such a thing.
This was probably a little out of his job description, but Chief Quimby knew it was his duty regardless. He couldn't let the blond girl slip through the cracks. He could still remember when the inspector brought his niece to the police station, eager to show off to the bright four year-old. And even in the face of the clumsy and destructive chaos that Inspector Gadget caused, Penny didn't blink an eye. On the other hand, she could stand in the eye of the storm that was her uncle's antics without it even disturbing her pigtails. The child was one of the few that consistently escaped harm from the dark-haired man's mistakes. He even sometimes displayed an astounding amount of coordination when snatching her out of the sort of trouble that even the smartest child was bound to encounter. Even Chief Quimby's limited exposure to Penny was enough to know that her uncle adored her and would keep her out of an orphanage no matter the cost. He just wondered what the cost of giving the child back even a part of her family would be.
She was more subdue now than what the chief observed in the past, barely speaking to anyone except the puppy she refused to be parted with. It took plenty to convince Mrs. Quimby to allow the canine in the house, but he'd managed somehow and even got his wife to agree to watch him when he took the girl out today. He would have found a way to keep the dog anyway even if Mrs. Quimby didn't agree; the child needed something to hold on to after having so much in her life snatched away.
In addition to the silence, there was the look in her blue-green eyes. The pain of losing her mother and father clearly lurked in their depths. It was an expression he'd seen before at the scenes of crimes, but it never got any easier. And even as he led her to see her living, though still unconscious, uncle recovering from his ordeal, Penny almost seemed afraid to believe it was true.
"Now, I'm not the best at explaining medical stuff," he stated uneasily, his steps echoing down the halls. "But the damage to Inspector Gadget was apparently… quite extensive. But they've fixed him now," he quickly assured. "He's going to be all right. He just might be a little different than you remember."
"Different how?" she asked quietly, glancing up with something that might just be the slightest glimmer of hope.
"Again, I'm no expert and I'm not the best at explaining this sort of thing," Chief Quimby said. "I'm better at explaining missions and such. From my understanding, the injuries that were more… serious were repaired by replacing them with robotics."
She gave a brief frown, but not one of confusion. She clearly understood what he meant. Chief Quimby abruptly recalled that Penny's late mother dealt with technology, so such an idea was likely not a strange one for her. That should make things a little simpler for him.
"How much?" she whispered. "How much did they add to save him?"
"A lot," he admitted as they reached the door. "Probably more than they needed to. I just thought I should warn you before you see him."
Penny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, apparently gathering her courage or fortitude or both for what was coming. Considering all that she was suffering lately, the girl must have an impressive reserve of such strength to draw upon. Most seven year olds would crumble in her situation.
Opening her eyes, she stated, "It doesn't matter what they did to him. He's still my Uncle Gadget, right? As long as he's all right, we'll figure things out."
Nodding proudly at her answer, Chief Quimby gestured towards the room and Penny accepted it as an invitation to enter. Briefly, the man wondered if he should have at least checked first to see what the inspector looked like and it would be too traumatizing for his niece to see him in his current condition, but it was too late now. She didn't even hesitate upon catching a glimpse of her uncle. She hurried to his bedside, only pausing when she reached towards him.
Chief Quimby had to admit that they did a good job on him. At first glance, there wasn't any obvious sign of the numerous additions to his body. He looked burnt, bruised, and part of his head was wrapped in gauze, but he was also clearly breathing underneath the white sheet and hospital gown. Everything suggested that he was a hurt, but normal survivor of an accident. Even the medical equipment beeping softly next to his bed, monitoring his condition for changes, and thin tubes connected to clear bags of liquid helped maintain the illusion of normality. It was only a closer look that revealed the cracks in the façade.
The most obvious clue seemed rather innocent. Lying limply on the blanket was the man's hand. His gloved hand. There was no reason why a patient lying unconscious in a recovery room would be wearing brown gloves, especially after someone went to all the trouble of placing the patient in a hospital gown. A hospital gown that remarkably possessed long sleeves rather than the more standard short-sleeved ones. And if he studied the slight gap between the edge of the sleeve and the glove, Chief Quimby could glimpse the tiniest hint of metal. But it was still a rather impressive illusion of normality. The man couldn't help wondering if it was for the benefit of any visitors that might come to see the patient or for the inspector himself in order to keep him calm upon waking to find the changes to his body.
Penny's hesitancy to reach for her injured uncle, clearly warring between a fear of harming him further and a desire to assure herself he was really alive, finally settled down into a decision. She withdrew her hand from where it hovered over his and quietly sat down in a chair someone was kind enough to provide the room with. Chief Quimby didn't need to be a genius to know that she needed to be alone at the moment. Her body language as she curled up in the seat declared it rather firmly.
"I'll be out here if you need me," he stated. "Let me know when you're ready to go."
He waited until the seven year old nodded in acknowledgment before stepping out of sight. This wasn't exactly in his job description, neither as chief of police for Metro City nor his role as someone involved in more international matters, but it needed to be done. When focusing on the crime itself, it was far too easy to forget the victims. But he couldn't do that when one of his own was the one who was hit. And it was already clear from the forensic team that the explosion wasn't an accident. Perhaps Inspector Gadget could offer some insight into matters when he woke up. Regardless, Chief Quimby intended to figure out who was behind this attack. No one hurt any of his men and got away with it.
Penny sat there, staring at his bruised and burnt face and drawing at least some comfort from the fact she could still recognize Uncle Gadget. It was still his face and that meant it was really him in the bed. That meant he was really alive.
That simple concept was enough to undo the tight painful knot of emotions wedged into her chest and she finally allowed herself to break down into tears. From the moment the Metro City police, their faces vaguely familiar from her occasional visit to the station to see where her uncle worked when he wasn't in the field, arrived at her front door with solemn expressions and the news of an accident at her mother's lab, she'd been trapped in a state of painful numbness. Even when she was brought to the police station and Chief Quimby took charge of her before a social worker could arrive to take her away and undoubtedly separate her from Brain, she couldn't quite accept the enormity of what was happening. Intellectually, she knew what they were telling her, but all her feelings were tied up in a tangled lump that made breathing hurt. She couldn't even hope because a single emotion that might escape the tight knot would shatter her heart and the girl herself. Only now, with tangible proof that she wasn't completely alone, did she at last break down.
They were really gone. Her mom and dad were gone. She wouldn't wake up to the smell of Mom's pancakes. She'd never hear Dad joking about how it wasn't fair his daughter was too smart to help with her homework ever again. She wouldn't see them smile or hear them laugh. They wouldn't be there when she came home from school or to tuck her in at night. They wouldn't be there to send her to her first dance, to teach her to drive, to meet her first boyfriend, or to watch her graduate high school. She'd never get another hug or kiss from them. She'd never heart them chatting about their job or tell her how proud they were of her. Her house would remain empty and wouldn't be home anymore. They were really gone.
Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed quietly. It hurt to think about what happened, about all that she lost. But the longer she cried, the more the tight knot in her chest loosened. Slowly the tears began to shift from those of loss to those of relief concerning what she still had. It still hurt, but could have been worse. She wasn't completely alone. She still had Uncle Gadget.
Sniffling slightly, Penny looked back at the unconscious figure. She almost did lose him. And his job was a dangerous one. But if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she couldn't let something like this happen again. She needed to keep her uncle safe or she'd truly be alone. And she couldn't lose anyone else. While some might doubt her capacity to keep her uncle safe due to only being seven years old, Penny knew she'd find a way. She couldn't afford to fail. He was the only family she had left.
"Excuse me, my dear," an unexpected voice interrupted her thoughts. As she quickly wiped away the tears in an attempt to look more composed, the speaker continued, "Are you quite all right?"
As she nodded, she turned to look at the man entering the room. He was older, his hair and mustache white with age and matched his lab coat in shade. His movements were aided by the use of a cane. He also looked rather tired. But even if he looked like someone's quirky grandfather, there was a gleam in his eye that matched the one Penny's mother used to have when inspiration struck. She knew an inventor when she saw one.
"My name's Professor Von Slickstein," he remarked, giving her a reassuring smile.
"I'm Penny," she replied. "And this is my Uncle Gadget."
A look of recognition briefly flickered across his face before he nodded, "Yes, well, I suppose you could say I'm quite acquainted with your uncle by now, though we haven't had the pleasure of a proper introduction. You see, I'm the one responsible for the procedure last night. Well, me and Dr. Lewis. But the technology and gadgets were my work." When she continued to stare at him expectantly, he asked, "No one's explained all of this, have they?"
"Only the basics," she confirmed.
"I see," he muttered. "I intend to give Inspector Gadget a more thorough description when he awakens, but I suppose I can provide a general overview of what we did concerning your uncle. Keep in mind that most of what we did was still experimental and likely no to be mainstream medicine for quite some time. It can be so difficult to gain subjects for human testing." He shook his head briefly, "Thank goodness for those who sign forms without reading the fine print or else we'd be even further behind in breakthroughs."
Professor Von Slickstein took a moment to study the readings on some of the machines connected to her uncle. Penny recognized the heart monitor from television, but she couldn't identify the others. Regardless, the man seemed to be satisfied by the information they provided and continued his explanation.
"I suppose you could divide them into two categories. The first half of them is the more essential additions. They're the ones that are helping keep him alive, working automatically and fulfilling the same functions his body used to perform on its own. Those are more likely to be accepted into mainstream medicine in the near future, though there's no guarantee. After all, the artificial pacemaker took decades to develop properly from a clever concept in 1899 to the first clinical installation into someone in 1958. And of course, they were still working the bugs out during that time, but I'm drifting a little off topic. Besides, what I've been working on and installed were certainly more complicated than a pacemaker." He allowed himself a small smile of pride before continuing, "While the first set of additions are intend to try maintaining his life and returning it to its old state, the other additions are my unique way to improve his life beyond that to something better than before. They're a variety of gadgets installed into his body to ensure he is prepared for whatever situation might arise. While the first set of mechanics is automatically performed, the second set should be under his control. An easy comparison would be how you breathe without thinking about it, but talking involves you actually deciding to do so."
He stepped around the bed and patient so that Professor Von Slickstein ended up on the same side as Penny. He met her eyes with his own, apparently trying to ensure that his audience understood before he continued with his explanation.
"I added those gadgets for two reasons. The first is because there is no telling when the next time I'll get to test them on an actual person might be. I've been working on the different ideas for them for quite some time to the point where I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find a recipient before I die of old age. Second, with his particular career, he'll need all the help he can get. And he's certainly a lot more durable now than before."
The girl nodded thoughtfully at his words, absorbing the information in the same way she used to her parents' descriptions of their projects at work. She didn't know whether to be upset at the idea of Professor Von Slickstein using her uncle as a guinea pig for the more unnecessary additions, curious about what sort of gadgets that were added to him, or simply grateful that he did help Uncle Gadget. She eventually decided that she preferred having an obviously brilliant man go above and beyond what was necessary to save her uncle than for Professor Von Slickstein not to have helped at all. Even if the inventor added a bunch of gadgets, he seemed to think they would be helpful to Uncle Gadget and wanted to make things better even while seizing the opportunity to test out his creations on a real person. And maybe her uncle did sign something saying they could do this to him. One of the things her dad used to say about why a lot of scientists worked with animals was because humans have to give their permission before you could do much experimenting on them. So they must have figured out a way to ask her uncle first, right?
Besides, it was like what she said to Chief Quimby earlier, when she still had her brave face on. As long as Uncle Gadget was all right, they'd figure things out. It didn't matter to her what kind of inventions and gadgets were inside him now. He was still her family. They'd find a way to make everything work.
Once again, Penny felt a strong desire to reach out and touch her uncle, to hold his hand or hug him tightly. It still felt surreal and part of her was afraid that it would turn out to be a dream and she'd awaken back on Chief Quimby's couch with no one left. But she didn't want to risk hurting him either. She could see that his face wasn't in the best condition, but she couldn't tell how bad the rest of him might be since he was wearing one of those hospital gown things. But the fact that he was in an explosion the day before made her nervous that she might make things worse somehow by touching him.
Some of her desire for contact with her uncle must have shown on her face because Professor Von Slickstein abruptly remarked, "You know, my dear, you don't have to be afraid of breaking him. As I said, he's far more resilient now than before. And while I'd be careful of his chest and face for a little while, you won't harm anything if you want to hold his hand or touch his shoulder." Giving her a small grin, he turned back towards the door, "Please take care of yourself, Penny. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or your uncle. Especially after all that work putting him back together again."
As he stepped out of the room and turned his attention towards something out of sight, quite likely Chief Quimby since he promised to wait for her out in the hall, Penny finally reached over and gently grasped Uncle Gadget's gloved hand. Instantly, she frowned slightly. It felt different. She knew what her uncle's hand felt like, just like she could have recognized her mother's favorite perfume or her father's footsteps. Even if she didn't see Uncle Gadget every day, she spent enough time with him over the years to recognize his hand by touch and what she was holding wasn't right. It was close, but not quite.
It was close to the right size or at least close enough that she couldn't tell the difference. Even the finger length was fairly correct. But it felt different. Underneath the brown glove, his hand felt stiff and hard in comparison to what she remembered. His fingers and thumb felt similarly firm. It didn't feel right or natural to the girl and she finally started wondering about the presence of gloves on her uncle's hands in the first place. Before she'd been too distracted by the more obvious damage to his face and Professor Von Slickstein's vague descriptions of what was added. Now, spotting a faint gleam of metal underneath the edge of the glove, she was beginning to wonder what was lost.
Curiosity compelled her to investigate further. Without releasing her light grip on her uncle's hand, Penny leaned over his unconscious figure. Hesitantly, her fears of hurting him still lurking in the back of her mind, the girl gently placed her ear to his chest and listened. Clicks, quiet whirling, and strange mechanical sounds were audible underneath the thin blanket and hospital gown. Noises that had no right to be coming from Uncle Gadget and belonged in a movie about robots continued to emerge with the prefect regularity of clockwork. Perhaps there even was actual clockwork involved somehow. She couldn't even guess what all the gadgets that Professor Von Slickstein might have devised. The sounds were soft and wouldn't even be noticeable if she wasn't pressing her ear on his chest to listen to them. Like the hand that no longer felt quite the same in her grip as before, the foreign noises of machinery whirling away in his chest showed that the changes more clearly than mere words.
The question of exactly how much of him was now mechanical flickered through her mind. Twenty-five percent? Fifty? Ninety? What if he woke up and there wasn't enough of him left to really be considered Uncle Gadget anymore? Would he remember her? Would he still act like himself or would he be more like a robot from television?
As these doubts kept creeping up on her, Penny continued to listen to the strange symphony of whirls, clicks, and clacks. After getting used to the regularity of the mechanical noises, the child began to notice a more familiar one underneath the newer sounds. This one also followed a constant rhythm, but felt more natural and less manufactured. The steady thumping belonged in her uncle's chest and she couldn't resist smiling slightly at the soothing sound. No matter how much might be replaced with machinery and gadgets, she could still hear his heartbeat. That much was still Uncle Gadget; the man he was before Professor Von Slickstein started helping him with his inventions. And if at least that much was still his old self, then there was probably plenty more that wasn't replaced and her brief fears about him not being who he used to be were likely unfounded.
Lifting her head, she looked back at his battered face and whispered, "Don't worry, Uncle Gadget. We'll be all right. Just make sure you get better and wake up. I still need you."
She squeezed the too-stiff hand a little tighter. She didn't know for certain if he'd be able to feel it even if he was awake, but she wanted to at least try and let him know that she was there anyway. She'd have to leave soon to go back with Chief Quimby, even if she didn't want to leave him alone. Or to be left alone herself. But she couldn't stay here all day, even if someone would let her. She still needed to take care of Brain and Chief Quimby undoubtedly would have to go to the police station later. Penny did plan to try and come back as often as possible until her Uncle Gadget was released though.
It wasn't like she had anywhere else she'd want to be. School would be too dull and she'd have to face all those pitying eyes from classmates and teachers alike. Chief Quimby's house, while nice, wasn't exactly somewhere she was comfortable either. She appreciated him allowing her to stay, but she'd also be happier when she wasn't sleeping on his couch with a few of her belongings in a backpack. And home certainly wasn't an option. The silence and emptiness was too much for her to deal with. She couldn't go there yet. Honestly, the chair in the recovery room was the best choice in her opinion. But she couldn't stay.
As she started to stand up, a slight movement captured her attention. She didn't know if it was simply due to gravity or an actual reflex from the unconscious man, but the fingers on his gloved hand were now slightly curled around her smaller hand. Whether or not her uncle was aware of it, he was now returning Penny's grip and it was more of a sign of life than she'd seen since entering the room. Like the sound of his still-human heart beating, it was comforting to the girl and she sat back down. She wanted to hold onto him a little longer.
Funeral arrangements for Mr. and Mrs. Dollar were taken care of by their coworkers once it became known that no one else was in any condition to deal with those issues. The pair was popular enough at work that they didn't mind and those who worked with Sophie felt especially obliged since they could have easily shared their fate. Helping with final arrangements was the least they could do. And while plenty of coworkers and other scientists attended, Penny was the only family member to attend the service. Dressed in black with Brain following loyally, the girl sat near the front of the funeral home with Chief Quimby and his wife, completely refusing to look at the twin caskets. They were closed for obvious reasons, but she didn't want to look at them. She didn't want her last memories of her parents to be them in wooden boxes that would soon be buried in the ground. And she certainly didn't want to start crying again, this time in front of a large number of strangers.
Even when different people came to offer their condolences to the child and to quietly inquire the police chief about who she was going to stay with now that her parents were gone, Penny tried to tune them out. She forced her thoughts away from the reality of what remained of her parents and tried to think of more hopeful things. It still hurt too much to focus on their deaths, so she tried her best to avoid it. She thought about happier times from the past or considered her Uncle Gadget.
He still wasn't awake. She would have been concerned by the fact he was unconscious for few days already, but during her second visit before coming to the funeral service, she encountered Dr. Lewis. The brown-haired man informed her that it her uncle would likely be in a state of unconsciousness for a little longer and it was probably best for him to remain that way until he was further along in recovery and they were one hundred percent certain there wouldn't be any complications due to Professor Slickstein's inventions. If they felt Uncle Gadget still being unconscious still was nothing to worry about, then it was probably all right. That didn't stop her from wishing he'd wake up though so she could be certain he was fine.
Penny was not the only one at the funeral for her parents that was thinking of more than the two poor souls lying in the coffins. Chief Quimby's mind kept turning over the small pieces of evidence gathered from the scene of the crime, trying to find a solid clue to lead him to the one responsible for the placing the Dollars in those caskets and for sending a third man practically to death's door. Most of the possible evidence was destroyed in the explosion unfortunately, so he kept revisiting the same small hints repeatedly. The fact that the one who actually planted the bomb was also no longer among the living due to Dr. Claw's displeasure with utter failure might have been helpful to the police chief, but the leader of MAD would not likely be sharing that in the near future.
And while he only stayed a short amount of time, Professor Von Slickstein did attend and ordered a few flowers. He'd rather liked Sophie Dollar and he'd always remember their scientific discussions fondly. He didn't dare remain too long, however. Even if the man was recovering and there were people there who could handle most medical problems that might occur, there was still a chance that one of his creations might not be perfect and could begin causing trouble for Inspector Gadget. After all, that was an inherit danger of prototypes and initial test subjects. If there were no problems for a couple of more days and the life-sustaining equipment especially continued to operate correctly, he'd be more willing to accept the entire procedure a success. Until then, he'd be more comfortable remaining on hand to deal with any difficulties that might arise. Besides, the elderly inventor knew it would be best if someone with a familiarity with the gadgets was on hand whenever the patient awoke.
Once the final words were spoken and the two identical coffins were transferred to the hearse, the friends and coworkers began filing out to their own vehicles. Penny wanted to go back Chief Quimby's house or, even better, that chair next to her Uncle Gadget. She didn't want to go to the cemetery and be around by all of those grave stones, watching most of her family be placed in the ground. She didn't want to be surrounded by the dead. It scared her and she was forced to think about her lost parents and her future. She didn't want to go there and face those thoughts, but she needed to go. Uncle Gadget couldn't go, so she was the only family member who could. And as hard as it would be to go to the cemetery, she needed to say goodbye to her mom and dad. She loved them enough to do things right.
Gently scratching behind Brain's ears, the girl allowed herself to be led back to Chief Quimby's car so they could follow the hearse.
Okay, I'm hoping this will end up as only a three-shot. It just keeps growing in length. I don't know how long it might take for part three, but I'll post it eventually.
Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I figured out a general timeline. The series started in 1983 with Penny at age ten. That would mean she was born in 1973. Assuming that her mother would have been at a minimum of twenty-five when she had Penny, that would place Inspector Gadget's childhood during the 50s and 60s. And that would also mean that the current year in my story would be 1980. And now you know.
I appreciate feedback and I'm very thankful for my two reviewers so far. You've made me smile.