fictober prompt 2: "You have no proof."
You Can Go Home
Morceau had a sneaking suspicion something was wrong. His mentee was approximately two hours late with her report. Those pancakes should have been prepped and prepared, and she should have come directly to him with her update. But although he knew Sam rarely adhered to time or a schedule, she had been the one approaching him for an assignment, implying that, perhaps, she was taking her mentorship more seriously than her peers.
Standing outside of the nearly dilapidated restaurant, Morceau shook his head. Once a popular tourist destination, the Lumberjack Diner had fallen into disrepair. Grime coated the dark windows. Old and new cobwebs clung to the rounded walls of the honeycomb exterior. Instead of using the kitchen inside of headquarters as Morceau assumed, Sam had set up shop in a diner that hadn't seen clean water running from the faucets in months.
She'll need a massive grant from Hollis to get this place back in business, Morceau thought, lumbering up the stony steps.
When he reached for the door, he hesitated. He noticed a shadowy shape moving through the dusty window. It seemed long and angular, lacking in Sam's build, as it glided across the window.
Morceau narrowed his good eye. Although the interior was dark, he noticed red and green lights rapidly moving. They were the size of marbles but still a cause for concern when he remembered what had recently transpired in Sasha's lab.
Shoving open the door, Morceau hurried inside and set two fingers to his temple. "Hold it right there!" he bellowed, thrusting out his hand.
The figure shrieked, the dim lighting accentuating his features and affirming his identity. Caligosto whirled around and knocked over a bowl filled with muddy liquid. It spilled to the floor along with stray eggshells, staining his smock an even deeper brown, and he growled from the back of his throat, clenching his only fist.
"Little army man! Don't you know how to knock?" Caligosto snapped, his lip curling. His lenses focused on his smock, and he smacked his claw against his hip. "Oh, good! More stains! As if traversing through that damp, rank passageway leading out from headquarters wasn't disgusting enough!" He scowled and leaned forward. "Do you know how many tons of animal feces are in there? Don't those janitors know how to maintain a clean environment, or do they not get paid to clean all the nooks and crannies?"
His outburst hardly deterred Morceau. He lowered his hands and folded them over his chest, asking, "Alright, Cal, what's the big idea escaping from the egghead?"
"I wasn't doing anything wrong! I'm a reformed man, and whatever you say, you have no proof!" Caligosto blurted, jabbing his gloved finger at Morceau's nose.
"And that's not what I asked," Morceau said, pushing aside Caligosto's hand. "What are you doing in here?"
Caligosto grumbled. Like a petulant child, he crossed his arms and pivoted on his heels, facing the countertop. Morceau sighed, knowing they were not going to make any headway. He approached the fallen bowl, inspecting the thick dirt still swimming within the murky water. Peering over the counter, he found an array of utensils embezzled from the kitchen and a large number of uncracked acorns scattered on the tiled floor.
His gaze fell on a dirty plate by Caligosto's side. Caligosto snatched the plate and held it away, but Morceau had already seen its contents: half-eaten egg whites and a soggy pancake.
"You were just hungry?" Morceau asked, arching an eyebrow. "What, you broke out because Nein didn't give you a bite to eat?"
"Exactly!" Caligosto exclaimed, and without warning, he tossed the plate into the wall. The glass shattered, spilling the shards and foodstuff on top of the acorns. He sighed and fixed his shower cap. "Well, it's been fun catching up, General Oleander, but I must be off-!"
Morceau's telekinetic hand slammed against the door. Caligosto's grin fell. They stared at each other, Caligosto practically steaming to the point where Morceau could have sworn he felt the temperature inside the diner increase.
"You are incorrigible," Caligosto finally huffed.
"All in a day's work for a Psychonaut," Morceau sneered, but he quickly cleared his throat. "Anyway, answer my question. Why'd you escape from Nein's lab?"
Caligosto snorted. "Well, shouldn't you know? You are in charge of the camp." He rested his hand to his chin, tapping his cheek with his finger. He chuckled, lowering his voice. "Oh, unless they stripped you of that rank after your disastrous plan to take over the world with the brains of little boys and girls? How would you have gotten those tanks across the lake, by the way? Brute force? Make that mindless hulking lungfish carry them one at a time?"
A growl rose from the back of his throat. That was an embarrassing reminder. He really hadn't given much thought as to how he would have moved the tanks to the mainland. "Hey, that was then, and this is now!" he exclaimed, raising his fist as Caligosto laughed. "What do you mean by whatever in the Sam Hill you're sayin'? I want answers, or I'm dragging you back to Sasha!"
Caligosto pressed his lips into a thin line. He leaned his hip into the counter and crossed his ankles. Taking a breath, he chortled and pressed his claw into his palm. "Wow. There is no way you'd be able to take over the world if you can't crack this riddle," he muttered in disbelief. He clicked his tongue, Morceau feeling his cheeks burn, and he pointed at himself. "I have a purpose for going back to camp, and the hint I'll so graciously give you is that the reason looks almost identical to me."
As soon as Caligosto finished speaking, it was as if someone flipped a switch in Morceau's brain. His mouth fell open, and he gazed at Caligosto up and down. The resemblance was uncanny. He wondered why he hadn't made the connection before joining forces with Caligosto. And the sneer that stretched across Caligosto's face matched his son's so perfectly that it made Morceau pale.
"But didn't the cadets all go home? I thought-" Morceau dragged his hand down the side of his cheek. "No, no, that's not right. One of 'em was gonna stick around for a second summer session. It made no sense to send him home for a week when he could've just hung around camp supervised by-" He grimaced. "-Ford, but Ford's no longer there."
Caligosto sucked in a sharp, grating breath. "You left my child there all alone?" he cried, gripping his chest.
Morceau was unimpressed with his theatrics. He had already seen them countless times when they had schemed together. "The kid's not hopeless, Cal. He might spend more time in the cooler than in school, but he can handle himself."
"Oh." The noise came off as more disappointed than relieved. "Well, there goes that lawsuit."
The urge to restrain Caligosto and drag him back to headquarters tickled his fancy. Suppressing that idea, Morceau wondered how to go about the situation. He could have shot Milla with a telepathic message. Milla was far more personable, able to win anyone over with her welcoming demeanor, just as she had done to Caligosto in Sasha's mental construct. She would have been perfect handling him again.
But when Caligosto sighed and stared out the window, Morceau frowned. It wasn't as if Caligosto was actively harming people anymore. Perhaps he would, if he relapsed, but that wasn't happening now. He hadn't escaped to cause the Psychonauts more trouble; it was all for the sake of his child.
"When's the last time you saw him?" Morceau asked and bit his tongue when Caligosto leered at him. "Y'know, before what happened three days ago."
"And what an ordeal that was. He kept screaming when I made his little space friend sneeze out her brain. Then, he had the gall to break out of his restraints and escape!" Caligosto lamented, kicking his heel into the counter. It banged throughout the diner. "And, well, you know how that ended."
Morceau remembered how warm the brain had felt between his hands. He recalled the peppery and wet residue stuck to his gloves. And the utter betrayal on that boy's face haunted Morceau in the aftermath.
"De-brained him myself before he could reach the gates," he said, then shook his head. "Still, you wanna go see him? When was the last time you really saw him?"
Caligosto regarded the question with a rare bout of silence. He held a breath, staring at Morceau with crow's feet lining his eyes. Stress creased his brow. If he had eyes, then Morceau was certain they would have been closed when he answered.
"Time's been all screwy for me. I don't know if I could give you a straight answer," he admitted, "but I want to make things right for me and my - my little Robbie." A laugh croaked out of him. "Well, he's not so little anymore, is he? I'm sure he'll be around my height when he's fully grown if he stops hunching forward when he walks."
A pang of jealousy ran through Morceau. He hadn't overcome his broad dislike for tall people, and the notion that one of his campers would eventually be taller than him pinched a nerve. But he sighed, ignoring those feelings, and he rounded to Caligosto's side, pressing his shoulder against the counter.
"Well, uh, I'm sure he wants to see you, too," Morceau offered. "Maybe."
"And what a massive 'maybe' might be!"
Caligosto's abrupt shout startled Morceau. He felt his bones rattle from the shrill pitch bouncing off the walls. Morceau gripped the counter to steady himself as Caligosto marched around the dinner. He weaved through tables and booths, stomping on moldy leftovers and piles of sand.
"I mean, yes, I can show up unannounced! I can go and say, 'Robbie, my boy, I'm back for you after trying to steal your brain among other…terrible things!'" he finished with a crack in his voice.
"Well, we can head over there together. I can…vouch for you!" Morceau shouted. The words escaped him before he fully understood their meaning.
Caligosto stopped entirely. He turned around to stare at Morceau as if he had sprouted a second head on top of his helmet. He looked around the diner, his fingers fidgeting by his chin. An uncomfortable silence lapsed between them, unsure of where to go from there as they looked everywhere else except for at each other.
Morceau's mouth twitched. His proposition rang in his ears. He had no idea what kind of trouble he had invited for himself. Yes, they had been partners in crime, and yes, Morceau had heard about Caligosto's appalling childhood. He sympathized with Caligosto, who was like him. They both endured the pain inflicted on them by frightening fathers. Morceau's only respite was the kindness of his mother, something that Caligosto never received. Regardless, they stewed in their suffering whenever salt filled their wounds from a memory or a reminder, ripping them wide open again.
But Morceau was also the Senior Facility Officer for Whispering Rock. He cared for those kids with all of his heart, even if he had broken their trust. If Caligosto wanted to reconnect with his son and struggle to make things right between them, then Morceau wanted to offer his support.
"And you won't make me go back to the Brain Bumbler?" Caligosto demanded, warningly tapping his claw.
The implication not lost on him, Morceau smirked. "No Brain Tumbler. That's Sasha's thing, not mine."
"In that case…" Caligosto reached out. "...fine, I suppose."
Caligosto grabbed Morceau's hand. They awkwardly shook, Morceau doubtful if his intentions had been fully clear. Caligosto hung on for a moment longer than Morceau expected, quickly letting go when he noticed Morceau staring at him.
"Er, should I be thanking you now?" Caligosto wondered, itching his nose.
Morceau fiddled with the ends of his mustache. "Save it for later, soldier. I think we're gonna have a lot of work to do when we arrive at camp." He paused. "Oh, I left my car there, too. I gotta go get it, so, hey, two birds with one stone. Hope that punk didn't try hotwiring it again."
Caligosto took long strides over to the door, his arms slack at his sides. "Well, if he does, then I'll be proud of him! He's my mini engineer!"
"That's not good, Cal! He took my car joyriding last summer! He's one of the reasons why I had to install security cameras," Morceau snapped, hurrying after him.
"You hush! Robbie using his brain for intellectual pursuits should be praised! Why, when I was his age, all I did was bend spoons, and boy, did that piss off my mother!"
Morceau sighed. "Well, we're wasting daylight. Let's just go."
Caligosto cackled, kicking open the door and letting it slam into the wall. It nearly tore it off the rusted hinges, and he proclaimed, "Give me a few minutes, and I'll hotwire us a car like my little lad! Do you think that spiffy lady in the business suit has a good one?"
Heaving out an even heavier sigh, Morceau realized it was going to be a very long drive to Whispering Rock, but the tiny grin on his face betrayed his annoyance. He also had a few words that he wanted to say the last remaining camper. And reuniting the father and son filled him with a rush of optimism that he hadn't felt about either person in some time.
"Oh!" Caligosto stopped in his tracks in the parking lot. "By the way, there was a girl in here when I arrived. She said you were training her. Is that correct?"
"Who, Sam?" He had completely forgotten about her. "What about her?"
"Give that girl a demerit for making the worst brunch I've ever eaten! I'd rather eat the moss off the asylum walls than whatever slop she puts on a plate again."
Morceau threw his head back and laughed, promising to have a word with Sam when he returned to headquarters.