Chapter 21
[Loneliness By Your Side]
A high-pitched, shrill scream resounded throughout the Morbucks mansion in the early dawn. People roused, rushing out of their beds or away from their posts.
After carrying on for some time, the scream abated for a moment. When it continued, it was a more throaty wail, choppy with its periodic sobs.
The door to Princess's room was thrown open as one of the bodyguards entered. Bubbles sat on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest and hugged tightly as she gently rocked back and forth. Once more running out of air, she nearly hyperventilated with her many sharp, whining breaths before continuing her cries.
On the wall across from the foot of the bed, the wallpaper was cut and torn in places, forming rough letters, bloody along some edges. It said, simply, "YOU"
On the bed, lying still, Princess's cold, lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, still wide in panic she no longer felt. Her neck was bloodied, but the deep cut across it was plainly visible. There was a small pool of dry blood around her neck and head, staining the white, silken sheets almost pure red. She'd likely been dead most of the night.
Others began to arrive at the scene soon after, drawn by Bubbles's agonized cries.
Mister Morbucks himself opened the door when Professor arrived at the mansion. Though there were no visible signs of Morbucks's anguish other than slightly puffy red eyes and nose, he and Processor paused for several seconds to share a meaningful look. Acknowledging a shared pain for which neither had words to describe. They knew the loss of a child, and there was no comfort or assurance either could offer the other.
"This way, please," Morbucks eventually mumbled. "Police wish to question her, but I've persistently played the minor card."
"I appreciate that," Professor said quietly, voice echoing a bit. The mansion was so large, and while it was bustling with activity in some places, most of it—even more than usual—was quiet and lifeless. And so very empty.
Morbucks continued, "I wasn't sure how to say this any other way than in person, but understand that I don't begrudge Bubbles being unable to protect people while she sleeps. There are far...far more suitable targets for my rage."
Professor continued walking quietly.
After a time, Morbucks added, "From what I've been told, your daughter had done wonderful things for mine. I will not forget this. Perhaps with friends like that earlier in life..."
"Mr. Morbucks," Professor began. "Despite the complete futility of doing so, I'll tell you now: there's absolutely no good, for yourself or anyone else, in asking what you could have done differently."
Morbucks's lips twitched into the brief semblance of a smile. "No... No, I suppose that reminder won't do any good at all. But I appreciate the gesture. Just a bit further, please."
Professor heard faint sobbing that grew louder as they rounded another corner.
"It's been like that on and off," Morbucks said. "Whatever she has the steam for, it seems." He stopped and gestured down the the hall. "Third door. Someone will see you out."
"And the police?" Professor asked.
Morbucks shrugged. "It seems my staff 'neglected' to tell you Bubbles was wanted for questioning." After a pause to be sure that sank in, he turned and began walking way. As he rounded the corner, he added, "I should have them look into that oversight."
Professor paused only briefly, eager to rush to his daughter's side, but offering a cold, mental "thank you" to Mr. Morbucks.
The door led to a small break room, likely used by the household staff. It contained a small kitchenette, dining area, and even a couch and television. Bubbles was presently on the couch, lying on her side, curled up. Her head rested on a folded towel, to avoid staining the couch as she cried.
Professor gently closed the door behind him and crouched beside the couch. "I'm here," he said, at a loss for any meaningful words. "It's time to go home, now."
Bubbles promptly sat up and wrapped her arms around her father's neck. "Carry me?" she asked in a whisper of a voice made hoarse by mourning.
Professor smiled ever so slightly. Granted, Bubbles was more adult than toddler in stature, but he'd gladly give it his best. He cupped his hands on her underside as he stood, she wrapping her legs around him and adjusting the grip of her arms.
She was heavy, but the front door wasn't terribly far off. He was more worried about descending the stairs in the grand entryway. At least his recent work had gotten him used to handling weights like this.
Bubbles's powers of flight momentarily lightened her load as he freed a hand to open the break room door. On the other side, he was greeted by a woman who, despite her business-like demeanor, had clearly had a hard cry not too long ago.
"I'm Ruby," she greeted. "Please, follow me."
"Thank you," Professor said. He walked beside and just behind Ruby. Bubbles, facing away, never even turned to look at her.
"I understand now is not the best time," Ruby began, "but if you have anything to share about the Harvester investigation that Princess might have been keeping to herself, please contact us at your earliest convenience."
"It was all desperate speculation, really. I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. None of us are really used to this sort of...climate."
"I agree there's not really an ideal time, but please share your findings with me at your earliest convenience as well."
Ruby looked behind, to the back of Bubbles's head. "Unfortunately, the room was not under watch. Princess had explicit orders to keep her bodyguards at a distance when she was with Bubbles." She turned her gaze forward again. "She had complete faith in her."
Professor felt Bubbles's grip tighten just a bit.
"She even recently ordered most of her arms stockpile destroyed as a sign of solidarity."
Bubbles's grip tightened even further, almost unbearably so for a brief moment. Professor wished Bubbles's sisters were alive just so she could embrace them with all her might.
"Miss Morbucks seemed truly invested in your daughter, Mr. Utonium. As her...personal assistant, it was both scary and absolutely wonderful to see."
Bubbles began shaking with silent sobs.
"Ms. Ruby?" Professor addressed.
"Just 'Ruby' is fine."
"Ruby, I appreciate hearing these things, but..."
In his silence, Ruby looked back and saw Bubbles's bobbing. A drawn-out snort accentuated her near-silent mourning.
She seemed a little taken aback, pausing in her walk briefly before she turned her gaze ahead once more and resumed. "My apologies."
They remained silent until they reached Professor's car just outside. As Professor wondered how he'd get Bubbles into the car, she slipped out of his arms and popped in on her own. As soon as she'd closed the door she snatched some tissues from between the seats and closed the door.
Professor and Ruby had watched in silence, but before Professor continued to the driver's seat, Ruby stopped him.
"Here's my card. Please, don't hesitate to reach out for any reason. Consider me your first point of contact from now on."
"Thank you, Ruby. I appreciate it. Hopefully...hopefully it won't be much longer before these dark days are behind us all."
Ruby simply nodded curtly in response. Professor returned the gesture and climbed into the car.
As the car rolled out of the drive, Ruby stood and watched. And wondered.
While she appreciated Mr. Morbucks's gesturing and efforts to shield Bubbles, Ruby was like Princess in at least one respect. She favored results, and Bubbles's silence brought none.
Ruby's prodding minutes ago had been a bit inconsiderate. Perhaps even consciously, though whether to urge Bubbles to seek revenge on the Harvester or callously rub salt in her wounds was anyone's guess.
Ruby wished only for clarity enough to tell whether she actually blamed Bubbles for failing to save Princess. Or worse, blamed her for teaching Princess to trust, only to let her down.
Or whether Ruby simply blamed herself.
"Daddy?" Bubbles asked as they began moving.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Have you ever wanted to kill somebody?"
Professor took some time to think of how best to answer. "There's a big difference between wanting and doing."
"I hate the Harvester," she said plainly, voice venomous, its edge briefly sharpened by the throatiness of her soreness. "The choice between killing and dying..."
"Those aren't your only choices," Professor countered. "You can choose to be better than that."
"No," Bubbles insisted, voice hoarse and phlegmy. She paused to cough. She resumed in a weary, soft voice. "No, it's too late for that. After Princess...it's gone too far."
Professor drove for several minutes before he was able to provide a response. "Some things... Some things you can't take back. Some things change you."
Bubbles said nothing further.