"Do I call you 'brother'?"
Haddock laughed. "That'll be the day. 'Captain' is good enough."
"Captain? That isn't—"
"Ah, ah, listen to your older brother."
Tintin pouted. "That's unfair."
"Oh—wait here."
"Broth—Cap—Haddock! Where are you going?"
Before Tintin could stop him Haddock had disappeared into the throng of shoppers, leaving him in the middle of the market. Sighing, he sat down on a nearby folding chair.
He'd never imagined a life like this.
The sum warm on his face, the freedom to walk around without fear, a legitimate family. Somewhere he was finally accepted.
"Oh, hey there, Milou."
Milou leapt into his lap, fur soft as Tintin dug his hands into it. Lifting an ear, Milou yawned and settled into sleep.
The murmur of the people and the warmth of the sun lulled him, his muscles growing limp and his body hazy. Maybe he could drop off to sleep for a while. Not too long. Tintin shut his eyes.
"Hullo."
Tintin started, wincing as his back growled its protest. "Cuthbert!"
"Er, have you seen Haddock around? I was just about to introduce him to one of my inventions."
"Inventions? Whatever for?"
"Yes, you can test it if you like." Cuthbert placed something in Tintin's hand—something small yet heavy and cold. It was made of cogliostiostro and various small buttons dotted its surface. Based on the touch alone, Tintin could tell it was hollow.
"What does it do?"
"No, it's brand new. Here, let me show you how it works." Cuthbert took the tiny contraption and pressed a few buttons in it. Whirring, the device scanned Tintin's chair and duplicated it—only made out of stone.
"Great snakes!"
"Blistering barnacles, my eyes are playing tricks on me." Haddock appeared behind them, lugging baskets of fruits and vegetables around his arms. "How—how did you do that?"
"What did you think of my invention?"
Tintin raised his voice. "I think it's great!"
"Late? Well, I can get it to go faster, if you like."
"No, not late…" Haddock leant over. "GREAT!"
Cuthbert laughed and nodded, tossing his invention in the air. "I'm glad you found it as such—none of my other inventions worked quite well, actually."
Suppressing a chuckle, Tintin glanced over to Haddock, who winked back at him. He accepted the hand offered to him and stood up, Milou squirming in his grasp. "Those look new. I've never seen them before."
"Ha! Ship just docked into port, chock-full of supplies. This should last us a month until the next one comes about. If only that goat's invention could duplicate food, we'd never be without—"
Cuthbert bristled. "What did you call me?"
"A~ah, nothing, Cuthbert, nothing!"
Days wore on to weeks and weeks went on to months.
Tintin settled in this new world—a world of peace, tranquility and stability. A place where he didn't have to use his powers to survive, where he didn't have to tear down cities and buildings. A home where he can have fun and as his wounds healed, so did his soul.
All would have gone well if it were not for the ever-present slave trading corporation.
"They're at it again." Haddock readjusted the chain of his seal over his neck, the tube glistening in the sunlight. "If we're lucky, that trader would drop dead by the next tide. Maybe even sooner. Just look at how he walks!"
True enough, the trader no longer dragged his slaves out in the open, swapping heavy chains for a cane. Even then his whip still remained at his hip, shivers running through Tintin whenever he saw it.
"If he dies, what'll happen to the business?"
"The slaves will be free, probably, if there aren't anyone else after him. Why, you planning something?" Haddock nudged Tintin with a smile. "Planning to end their race?"
Tintin stared at him, his stomach turning. If he killed the trader, then there would be no more slaves—everyone would be freed forever. They would have a life as his own.
But to kill?
Tchang… Tchang never made it. Would they?
"Tintin, Tintin!"
Haddock stared straight at him, frowning, hands clutching his shoulders. "What's going with you?"
"I can't do it."
"Do what?"
"Kill him."
Haddock's lips parted. "Who—the trader?"
"But if I don't…" Tintin took deep breaths and clutched his tunic, swallowing hard. "But if I don't the children—they'd—I'd kill them." Tears burst through his eyes, his body trembling as he tried to suppress his sons. Haddock wrapped his arms around him and led him to an alleyway nearby, sitting him down on a crate.
"Hey, hey, no one's telling you to kill that madman. Do you hear me?"
Tintin bit back a gasp. "Haddock, I killed that man's brother to save my friend. I… I killed them both."
"I… I didn't know."
A heavy silence settled on them, only Tintin's whimpers and gasps breaking through it. Haddock sat beside him and wrapped him in an awkward embrace, arms tangling with Tintin's lanky limbs. In that moment the world disappeared.
"I saw you there."
Tintin sniffled and stared at Haddock. "What?"
"You. You destroyed the school and the slavery ring. You saved me." Silence once more. "Don't worry about it, that troglodyte is going to get what's coming at him. By the beard of Neptune, I swear I'll make sure of that."
With those words Tintin managed to calm himself.
"Tintin!"
Tintin looked up from his sculpting. "Yes?"
Haddock stared straight at him, face pale and breathing labored. An arrow of fear shot through Tintin.
"Why, what is it? What's going on?"
"It's Cuthbert."
