Notes: You know, if any of the characters ever drops the L-Bomb about Crow & Badger in this fic then it should probably be handled delicately and not just shoved in a random chapter. At least, you'd think so, wouldn't you?


Badger lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling and thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have work that morning. Though if he was entirely honest with himself, he wasn't sure that any stars he might have could be lucky ones. Or if he even had any stars at all. It certainly didn't feel like it, given how badly everything was going. Even if it was more through Crow's perspective than his that it was bad. But if Crow was hurting by something then Badger was hurting as well...

He sighed deeply and continued his scrutiny of the ceiling. It bothered him how clean and nice it looked. Back at home, or even in Crow's house, there were always cracks in the ceiling and other little bits of character that made the room what it was. This room had no character. It gave the impression that it did, with all the nice furniture carefully arranged within it, but that was just there to hide away how bland the room truly was. It had no imperfections and that bothered Badger.

Maybe that was why him and Crow hadn't taken to last night's auction – there were no cracks. It was all too smooth. Too perfect. Though there was also a stronger chance that both of them were being stubborn. Especially considering that neither Roddy nor Scraps had felt the same way about it.

Crow's face had been distant when Badger had gone through to join him in the store room last night. For all the world could see, Crow was doing necessary checks on the stock and just getting on with work as he should do, but Badger knew better. Badger could see that he was hurting.

And sure enough, it hadn't taken long before Crow had started asking Badger to go into more detail about the auction. At first Badger had tried to play it down, but there was no point in hiding anything when the others had already stated so bluntly that it had been a great auction. By the time Crow started asking about Desmond, there was nothing Badger could do but give his most accurate account about how Desmond had made it seem like the whole thing was his idea and that Umid was running the Black Ravens.

That hadn't gone down very well.

But Crow had at least seemed to believe him that none of it was Umid's fault. At the end of the day, Crow knew Umid better than Badger did and he agreed that something of this nature wouldn't be like him. However, Crow also added that Umid was the most loyal to Desmond out of all of them, so it would benefit Desmond if people were to believe that Umid was their leader.

As Badger lay in his bed, he wondered if they weren't putting too much thought into it. After all, why should someone like Desmond even care about what they were doing? He was a professor who was presumably very rich and obviously had friends in high places. It shouldn't matter to him about a bunch of young adults trying to carve a place for themselves in the world. Was it just that he wanted to know he was in control?

Then Badger thought back to that brief moment when he'd seen Umid standing with Desmond in that room full of people. Along with the fact that the two of them had stayed together almost all of yesterday evening. Part of Badger started to wonder if Desmond regarded Umid like a son and that maybe all of this was about getting what was best for him.

If that was the case, then Badger wanted out. His intentions when coming to London had been to start a business with Crow. He had no desire to be dragged into whatever Desmond wanted to warp the Black Ravens into for Umid's sake.

With that angry notion playing on his mind, Badger rolled onto his side. How stupid of Roddy and Scraps to fall for something so obvious. As time goes on and it becomes more apparent this was the case, the two of them were going to feel very silly.

...But time did go on and they did not feel that way at all.

There were more auctions. Outside of Crow and Badger, the others were hungry for more after the first. They'd all but dragged Desmond into the living room to talk about it. And Desmond had told them to be patient – that if they took the time to find the better stock, hone their craft to perfection and give their audience the impression that the people needed the auction more than the auction needed the people, they could keep having constant successes.

And he was right. Time after time, they'd hold the auctions for wealthy crowds that were gradually increasing in number and each time it went well. Even without Crow at the helm. With Max hosting every single auction instead and becoming a new kind of Black Raven. The kind these rich people wanted.

Badger wanted to begrudge all of them, but one day on his way back from the bank he realised that he couldn't. Because on that day he met Becky, passing him on her way to the very same building he'd just come from.

"Putting away your earnings, Badger?" she asked, cheerfully.

"Y-yeah, summit like that..." Badger confessed.

"That's great, you deserve it," chimed Becky, "Heck, we all do. I admit that I wasn't so sure about this auction thing at first, but it's worked out so well. Max has never been as happy as he is right now and between the two of us we're making enough to finally afford all that repair work on the hotel. There's been talk of getting an extension and Granny might even take a couple of weeks off! That's all thanks to you Black Ravens. I never should have doubted you."

Hearing all that made Badger realise just how unfair he was being. None of the others were awful at all, they were just trying to make the most of what they'd worked hard to achieve. He shouldn't be annoyed at them for that. Especially if it meant that good people like Becky and her family were able to afford some luxuries that they'd never dared dream of before.

He kept this in mind on his way back, though he didn't make it all the way to the house before stopping again. This time he was in front of the construction site, which had also been making steady progress over the months since they'd first seen it. Roddy would be there today and with the thought of how unreasonable he'd been to get angry at Roddy fresh in his mind, Badger headed through to find him.

There was a good chance that he shouldn't have been there, but nobody stopped him. Possibly because he looked as if he belonged there just enough to get by. So Badger looked around for a while and eventually found Roddy busy mixing some cement. The two dogs were chasing each other around near him and barking playfully. It seemed that they didn't understand why Roddy wouldn't just drop the work and come spend time with them. But Badger knew that, however much he might complain about it, Roddy wouldn't really drop his work. It wasn't in his nature.

"Roddeh, 'ey!" Badger called.

When Roddy looked over he raised an eyebrow at Badger, but then stopped what he was doing and motioned for him to come over. Badger suddenly felt nervous, but since he couldn't back out now he joined Roddy. The two of them sat on a half-constructed wall (thankfully all of the cement there had dried) and Roddy started to tear up bits of a sandwich from a box he had, throwing chunks out for the dogs.

"So what are you doing out here then?" Roddy asked.

"Oh, yer know, I were just passing and thought I'd drop in," dismissed Badger.

It was clear from Roddy's face that this excuse hadn't flown. He stared at Badger for a moment, seeing right through him in a way that Badger had previously believed only Marilyn could.

"It's Crow," Roddy stated.

"No, it's not Crow! ...Fer once. I swear it's not," whined Badger, "It's... well, I've been doing some thinking about... the, um, the auctions and I reckon that I've been unfair to yer."

"Go on," prompted Roddy. For whatever reason he'd decided not to make this easy.

"Look... I still doun't think this whole thing is good fer me or Crow, but... but that doun't give me a right t' stop any of yers if this is what yer want t' do," Badger explained. He wasn't good with words, but it always seemed as if Roddy appreciated someone getting to the point. Which was strange, considering that his best friend was Crow, who rarely ever did anything other than dance around what he truly meant.

"So what are you going to do?" Roddy quizzed.

"Dunno..." muttered Badger. And he honestly didn't. It was a question that he'd been avoiding asking even himself. So he didn't have any answer to give to Roddy. But now that he'd been asked it, he found that he brain was trying to whirl out a response, so he talked along with it as it went; "I reckon... that I should see what Crow does. But I dunno what 'e'll do eitheh. If 'e stays 'ere then 'e'll 'ave t' live with an auction that belongs t' someone else. And if 'e goes 'ome then it's like admitting defeat and that's even worse fer 'im. Afteh everything 'e's been through to get 'ere, Crow will neveh accept that the world was too much fer 'im."

"London's too much for him. That doesn't mean the whole world is. There's more to the world than Misthallery and London," Roddy corrected.

"And will it be different in every place?" checked Badger, feeling both scared and strangely curious at that notion.

"Everywhere is what you make of it, but some places are easier to make into something than others," answered Roddy.

"I see..." Badger murmured, hoping that he did.

"The way I see it is that London's gonna break Crow," Roddy theorised, snapping off a piece of sandwich to demonstrate his point, "I'm not sure how yet, but something will happen that's gonna push him over the edge. We've all seen that happen before and we know how unpredictable it can be. None of us can say what will happen after that. But I can say that Crow will need someone to pick up the pieces of him."

Badger drew his knees up to his chest, knowing exactly where this was going.

"So why can't yer do it, Roddeh? Why does it 'ave t' be me?" he mumbled.

"...Because you love Crow," Roddy replied, as he tossed the piece he'd torn off out to Ringo.

And there it was. Someone had said it. Just like that. Part of Badger felt a little indignant that it had happened so suddenly and without any fanfare.

The other part of him wanted to go down fighting.

"But yer love 'im too," Badger insisted, "Doun't tell me that yer doun't. The onleh other way I'd see that expression yer give 'im sometimes is if I could see meself looking at 'im."

Roddy laughed and didn't deny it; "I do love Crow, but I love my family more. So I have to do what's best for them and also for me. Which isn't Crow. He's... something else and I'm glad that I've had the time with him that I have, but he's not for me."

"Oh yeah? And yer reckon that just 'cause I doun't 'ave anyone else that I love as much as Crow that I need t' to stick with 'im fer all eternity? That's not fair," protested Badger.

"What I reckon is that you two would be good for each other, but you need to find yourselves before you find each other or else it'll hurt more," Roddy said, looking out at where Ringo and Sausage were yapping together, "And from the way things are right now I think that you'll find yourself before he finds himself. You've come a long way, even if you don't think you have. So when he falls, you'll have to be strong for both of you, so he can stand up and be strong enough for himself. Then you'll be able to be strong enough for each other. Or maybe I've been listening to Marilyn and Gus talking too much and I'm just babbling on like they do."

"Do the three of yers sit around and talk about us?" gasped Badger.

"Don't change the subject," Roddy laughed, "Look, the way I see it, you can stick with Crow and accept it'll be worse before it gets better or you could do what I'm doing and get out while you still can."

"We both know I woun't leave 'im..." Badger whispered.

"Yeah, we do," agreed Roddy.

"So... what now?" Badger asked, "What can I do fer 'im when everything come tumbling down?"

"That I don't have an answer to," confessed Roddy, pulling himself up off the wall, "From here on out you'll be going further than I have in the art of sticking with Crow, so you'll have to figure it out on your own. Not that you haven't been doing a good job of that already. I guess all I could say is to go along with the flow of him and accept that you dunno what he might do next. It's all about learning when to follow him and when to grab him by the arm to pull him away."

"I neveh expected it t' be easy... But thanks Roddeh, I appreciate all of this," Badger replied, as he also got up from where he was sat.

"No problem," Roddy dismissed, "And we're all still on for that auction tonight, yeah?"

"As far as I know," answered Badger, "See yer there."

With that the two of them bid each other goodbye and went back about their way. It would be inaccurate for Badger to say that he felt better because of the talk they'd just had, but he definitely felt more grounded. Because Roddy was right that he'd stick by Crow and Badger had a feeling he was also right that it wouldn't be too much longer before something snapped. So Badger would have to be ready for it. He would have to judge when it was right to step in and help before it was too late.

Although he thankfully didn't have too much time to dwell on how that might come about, because as soon as he walked through the door into Sharpace Rest he was greeted by the sight of Crow and Scraps talking together. At first he was worried, because tensions had been high between them ever since that first Desmond-dictated auction, but then he realised that both of them were smiling cheerfully. Whatever they'd said while Badger was away it seemed to have gone well.

"So ya admit it then? Ya admit that ya were wrong?" teased Crow, leaning in close and grinning.

"I admit nothing!" defied Scraps, with his arms folded, "And look – Badger's here."

"Hey, Badge'!" Crow waved at him, but then rounded back on Scraps, "Anyway, don't try to wriggle outta this. I've bin waitin' too long to 'ear this from ya."

"Why does it matter anyway?" huffed Scraps.

"'Cause I know that ya know it's a bit o' an act. Not all o' it, most rich people are terrible an' I'll agree with ya on that, but there is part o' ya that doesn't 'ate every one o' them. Ya liked Tony an' Arianna, didn't ya?" Crow insisted.

Scraps turned to Badger; "Please make him stop."

"What's all this about?" enquired Badger. He knew that talking about the wealthy with Scraps was always a dangerous topic.

"We were talkin' about all this new auction stuff an' we kinda 'ad a bit o' an argument. Yeah, anothah one," admitted Crow, "But then when Scraps was tryin' to make me see it 'is way, 'e made a lotta good points about 'ow great Sycamore's ideas are an' there we 'ave it – Scraps thinks a rich guy is great."

"I never said that!" Scraps hotly denied.

"Look, it's fine. It's all fine," soothed Crow, "If anythin' I'm kinda glad that ya stopped bein' suspicious about 'im. Remembah when we found all those papahs in the basement an' ya were so determined to 'ave a look at 'em before Umid whisked 'em away. It's good that ya settled down about that."

"Y-yeah..." mumbled Scraps.

Badger looked between the two of them. Scraps being reminded about the papers seemed to have caused him to suddenly tune out of the conversation a bit, which Crow seemed ever so slightly pleased about. It appeared that the puppet-master was back to tugging softly at the strings.

"But seriously," Crow went on, "Talkin' to Scraps 'as made me realise 'ow unreasonable I've bin. Max told me that 'e can't make tonight's auction, so I'm gonna step up an' take my place back on the stage. Bin long ovahdue, 'asn't it?"

"I guess so," agreed Badger, who was actually more concerned about Scraps right now.

"Right, so I'm gonna 'ead off an' get stuff prepared for this evenin'," Crow concluded, with a clap of his hands, "Ya comin'?"

"I'll... be along later," replied Scraps, "Got something I need to see to first."

With that he headed off upstairs without a backwards glance at them. Something wasn't right here and Badger knew it. This time he decided the right thing to do wasn't to follow Crow.

"Yeah, me too," Badger lied.

"Come on, Badge'," pleaded Crow, "I know that this kinda auction ain't wot eithah o' us 'ad in mind, but we should give it a chance for the othahs sake."

"I will do, doun't worreh," assured Badger, "But there summit else I got t' see to. Just go get started and I'll catch up."

"If ya say so," Crow sighed.

He shrugged and then turned away, acting as if he was put-out that neither of them had taken his sudden change of heart as a bigger deal. But Badger knew that it was indeed an act. There was no way that he would admit he was wrong out of nowhere for very little reason. And he definitely didn't trust Desmond. No, that whole talk had been about subtly reminding Scraps that he was the one to initially not trust that man. There was no saying what was on those papers Umid had stored away, but if there was anything that would put Desmond in a negative light then Scraps needed to be the one to see it. That was Crow's game. He was trying to tear this apart.

And maybe... maybe Badger should let him get on with it. After all, if Desmond really wasn't safe then they should know that sooner rather than later. But then Badger thought of the others, of how well this was going for each of them – Becky, Max, Roddy and even Scraps. He knew that just because Crow was going down, it didn't mean that he had to drag all the others with him.

So he waited for Crow to disappear down to the basement, then he followed Scraps upstairs, moving as quietly as a mouse. One thing Badger's rocky past with his dad meant was that he was no stranger to sneaking about a house and at least in Sharpace Rest none of the floorboards creaked. It was easy enough to follow Scraps without being noticed, especially when his friend was so distracted.

Sure enough, Scraps made his way into Desmond's room and across to the cupboard that had been deemed out of bounds for them. In fact, the whole room was. Badger had no doubt that if Desmond caught them in here, they'd be thrown out onto the streets faster than Tony could buy out Aunt Taffy's entire stock of sweets on a Monday. But luckily for them even Desmond had to go to work sometimes. Right now, as far as Badger could tell, the professor wasn't in the house. If he was wrong about that then Desmond would make it known soon enough...

By the time Badger peered around the door Scraps was already trying to force the cupboard's handle open with little avail. He then swore loudly and began to hunt around the room for a key. After a brief debate with himself about what would be best, Badger decided he should stop this before it went too far.

"Scraps, this isn't right," he said, as he took a step into the room.

"No, what's not right is him hiding something from us," grumbled Scraps. His head was under the bed and he didn't even bother to pull it out to reply to Badger.

"Whateveh's on those papers that 'is business. I doubt it's even important," Badger reasoned.

"If it's not a big deal then why didn't he show us from the start?" Scraps retorted, "Why does he have to hide an old newspaper article about Monte d'Or and whatever else is there? Rich people always have secrets."

"Yer just saying that," Badger tried, "Does anyone show everything they've got written down t' everyone in their 'ouse? The reason 'e 'asn't shown us is because whateveh it is it's nowt t' do with us."

"I'm making it to do with me! ...ah-HA!"

With that exclamation, Scraps shuffled back out from under the bed. He held a little box that, when opened, contained many small trinkets. Badger noticed another photo of Desmond's family amongst other things, but this was brushed a side as Scraps pulled out a key and rushed back over to the cupboard.

And sure enough, once he placed it into the keyhole, it turned with a satisfying click and allowed the door to be easily pulled open.

Inside were all the papers from the basement, piled haphazardly on top of each other. It was a wonder that the whole pile didn't topple over with the rush of air from the opening door. Before Badger could do anything to stop him, Scraps seized the nearest newspaper. And then another and another.

"Something about that Ambrosia place that Layton discovered," muttered Scraps, as he threw that paper down, "One about the little town that got attacked by those ancient robot thingies – Froenborg I think it's called. Here's the Masked Gentleman one I saw as well. And one about..."

"...About what?" prompted Badger, who had started to pick the discarded papers back up before Desmond could come in an find them all over the floor.

"The Golden Garden," Scraps replied, "What could Sycamore have to do with that?"

Hearing that name was enough to surprise Badger. The Golden Garden was these days just a popular tourist spot in Misthallery. But back when it had first been discovered... that was quite a different story.

"It's probably because 'e's an archaeologist," Badger said, reminding himself of this as much as Scraps, "I bet when that garden were first made known it were a big deal t' people like 'im. All of these are probably just 'im keeping records of famous discoveries."

Scraps had all but climbed into the cupboard now. When he pulled himself out again he clutched a piece of paper and looked not too happy. Badger noted that whatever he had in his hand wasn't a newspaper clipping this time.

"Then what's this?" he demanded.

The paper was held out for Badger to see. On it were many hastily scribbled notes that Badger couldn't read even if he wanted to, but he didn't need to read the words to be able to see the image that had been drawn in the middle of the page. It was a small scale illustration of a drilling robot that looked all too familiar...

"It... look, 'e couldeh got that from anywhere," Badger denied, though he didn't even believe his own words at this point, "Everyone knows about them robots now, since Socket fixed them up fer repairing the 'ouses. Just because 'e 'as a drawing of them doun't mean that 'e's-"

The door slammed shut. They both turned around in time to hear another key click into place. This one didn't sound nearly as satisfying. By the time Scraps had rushed over to try the handle, footsteps could be heard walking away. It was too late. They were trapped.

"...Descole," Badger whispered.