Though the mornings grew warmer over Planet Express, Leela's refusal to return had continued to cement chaos upon its roof. The packages and crates would creep in, as would the curious or threatening phone-calls, much to the regret of whoever was near.
Took several in a ten-minute span before The Professor boiled; enough to dress in full driving gear—gloves, goggles, thong, the works—to show Leela "how a man delivered." Took a Captain's offhanded stare at his face, all creased against the windscreen, before she realised he wasn't kidding. Remembering similar past 'hurdles', she almost screamed in seizing him.
Might as well have closed up for good, if he escaped alone.
But though she didn't return to duty, Leela did remain at HQ for the mysterious crate to sit among the new arrivals. No address given, no name for her to trace, for her eyes only, and a bloody warning to open it ASAP.
In between the hours of roof visits, television and coffee, that one-by-one foot box was all the Captain could think about, a paranoia soon brewing stronger than her espresso. Even her own 'Package Scanner', sick of calling "SAFE!" once every minute, had begged for her to get a hobby.
One could've convinced her of the nasty trap, mini-explosive, or tricky contraband that could've capsized her career before The Professor ever could. In spurts, she'd think of Stumbos-4, Noumel-13, the Moon, Mercury, Trisol & Mars; save for one, destinations that her crews present and past had adventured in.
Sure was glad for not zapping those cells at Annie's Forgettery, once she stared past the Hudson…
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First time off Stumbos-4, her two best friends had mutinied against her courtesy of their new hire, her old pain. Took just beer and a dumb dress code change to persuade them, only to have them crawl back and inform that their new 'Captain' had planned to kamikaze the Neutral Planet and escape. Made them drag those pillows by hand, which just might've saved their lives…
The rookie she knew would never trade the horrible storms and concrete slab sheets for anything, especially not for freedom, when it was where the entire mess began.
Save for seeking out those ancient space heroes, both Fry and the rookie had their complaints and thrills for Luna Park; she doubted that he'd return there. Only some hydroponic farms, dusty craters and a backwards Western town, he'd die of boredom long before he ran out of oxygen.
Mercury had once been the setting of a lovely day drive, an adventure to see Fry and Amy enjoy some quality time, and literally get attached as well. Recalled her eleventh-hour save with a smile; having Gary talk, killing Amy's mood, and sparing Fry from the horrors to come.
To think they'd all been high on life then, just in different situations…
Upon closing time she had some thoughts about Trisol and Mars. In Trisol, she remembered how she stopped Mayfield from drinking their Emperor; a whooping threat having done the trick. A threat that, in order to save her boyfriend's life, she regretted in carrying out.
And both crews could agree that for how those Wongs were, they were grateful for how their only child turned out. The Mars Day barbecue were among the encounters she'd have liked to forget, and when Mayfield handed out 'complimentary' Celine Dion tickets over cash, she might've been tempted to rip them up and shove them in Leo's face. Course, they'd just been outside his mansion…
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All memories she kept trying to suppress, yet always came back one way or another.
Those had sparked a three-way conversation between her shoulders, had her pace about the hangar as goodbyes were exchanged. Before The Professor virtually shooed her out, she might've done so for the rest of the night.
Seeing how she grabbed that crate, how she conversed with herself, had been a strange sight for most, as the starlit skies began to dawn over. An eternity spent just staring it down, all as she shuffled a sidewalk quarter between her fingers.
"Okay, heads I open her up, tails I trash that sucker."
A flick of the finger, a tinkling echo of metal, and a sudden flip to the back of her wrist…
The head of Coolio, his hair stuck up in several directions.
"Well, alright then. Here goes nothing."
Couldn't pry the crate loose from fingernails, so smashed it apart by boot. Inside, a discovery to vacuum her lungs out, a reflex grip of her head as she seized the folded letter inside, scanned that running, deep-red ink.
Didn't know what you THOUGHT would earn your trust, least enough to avoid your wrath from time to time. One fucking question to you… WHO'S the villain now, 'Captain'?
- TM
Didn't take long to figure out who 'TM' was, but the natural conclusion she believed open-and-shut had been obliterated. Inside that box, all her cab fares of some two hundred bucks, with the MAJOR interest he tried to advise her of; four tubes of Miracle Cream.
"Just the label slapped over an antiseptic," she waved off, and tried one to prove the point. No longer laughed once her fists became blurs, once a single punch obliterated the bedroom wall.
What could she say now, against this squaring of accounts, against those words of accusation slung her way? Then and there it had become crystal-clear; her judgements were premature, her beating beyond reason, and her choices to send her charge over the cliff edge.
No wonder she felt that Macbeth of sorts in mind; stony knuckles stained by blood no matter how hard she scrubbed or wrung in washing.
All she endured at Cookieville, all those years of lonesome study, all the times she'd push limits in life & career… One choice left it weeks away from being blown to splinters.
"What the hell's gotten into me? I've become who I hate; hero in my story, never in anyone else's. The whole time he always hoped to prove himself, and I never gave him a chance… I'm so sorry, kid."
The laws of absence and fondness no longer in her favour, she soon slid off the bed to attempt some press-ups; a few hundred in a few minutes before she lost count. Leapt back up into some shadow-boxing; her speed cutting, and close to igniting, the very air.
Despite all her efforts and attempts, all she grew certain of were the extra strong coffees to consume, of there being no rest nor mercy for the wicked. Especially not for the rattles and splashes coming from the heating grate.
"Will you idiots give it a rest over there?!"
"Not us, you cursed watchacallit… Creature!"
For all the nonsense her neighbour's cats could cause, it seemed that this time she was right. These certain creatures came from depths unknown, where the mutants and society's dregs were rumoured to lie.
Moments later, voices to echo through the systems, both featuring the oddest of accents she had ever made out. Personally, if she hadn't felt guilty enough, she might've gone pyjamas and all just to rip their throats out.
Dropping onto the pillow for the third time, she never heard her grate being loosened, or the large tentacle to ooze from outside it. Reddish-pink in colour, several suction cups underneath, and far more benevolent than first pictured as it gave a slimy stroke of Leela's head.
An action to have her moan in calm and smile, at least at first...
"Wait a minute, I live all alone, what the?!"
Made her eye flash open, find that tentacle, and react just as anyone would've done…
"AGGHHH!" A scream to wake the floor, one to almost send her off the bed.
The tentacle slid super-quick back inside the grate, before it crossed over a voice to plead neither harm nor foul. Not that Leela, her laser pistol glowing redder than her cheeks, seemed to care.
"Well this straight up blackens my Sabbath! Who are you talking heads, the HELL do you want from me?!"
Even for its echoing twang, the reply was rough and nasally. A touch of 'da Bronx' perhaps, and while it seemed angry at first, it soon settled into a calmer, gentle, and daresay… motherly tone.
"Ohhh, you greet your guests with that mouth, young lady? As for who we are, we're just those who seek your happiness, no matter your age, where you've gone or the time of day. Call us scummy intruders, but it seems we've only heard you cry, scream or smash walls these past months! Obvious that a more personal touch is needed."
About to yell again, Leela stopped cold for those raw words. To think about it, it was by virtue of showing up, by their speech, that these two had cared more than anyone else she had known. Having powered down since, she sat by the grate and hugged her knees, her voice cracking in the moment.
"Oh, who am I kidding? My whole life's gone to crap, and even for the entire year I've wallowed in it, I can't ever imagine how I'll prepare for this storm."
A mellow voice, one of a chilled California accent, piped up as the words caught his attention.
"What's the matter, my sweet?"
"I don't know where to start, nor what to say."
"Plain and simple, how 'bout from the beginning?"
Lucky he'd been genuine, or Leela might've screamed at him to leave.
Instead she sat there, an hour or more on the carpet, unloading upon the 'freaks' beneath. No interruption, only encouragements to continue as she spoke of lost friends, nightmarish sleeps, suppressed memories and ugly suspicions… All wrapped up by career threats and a missing employee, either ready to go rogue, or 'go home.'
The Captain soon laid on the floor, only relief through her bones as the male intruder spoke up.
"And yet you stuck around and performed despite all that? Jeez, I can't find the words on how admirable that is! But pleasing the unpleasable, be it some company, some boss or some quota… Why do that to yourself?"
Such a contrast between his offsider and him; two polar opposites she could never expect.
"Because even against now, that company's where my best life began. A voyage where I found my greatest friends, finest successes, truest calling… I don't want to disappoint myself, I don't want to wrong the undeserving, and quite honestly, I just don't want to leave like that."
"Ahhh, I understand… Listen Leela, don't blame yourself, you know there's… OW!"
Quite the squelchy slap could be heard, cutting him short as she hissed across.
"Oh for the love of… You couldn't stop saying something stupid for five minutes?"
"HEY, how on Earth did you know my name?!"
The dame of the depths spoke up, a stammer at first: "Well, um, uh… Since we could never walk your streets, we learn of others through what they flush, drain or throw away. And honey, when we hear about your heroics and adventures, it's only natural that we treasure such trinkets of yours."
"Feh, nothing heroic about me now, not after this recent turn…"
"Speaking of which, what caused you to act out like that?"
"Awful first impressions, ones that saw him as only a liar, a schemer, and vengeful for how I first treated him. Believed him guilty—was confident—of stealing a precious tool of mine for his own ends. Beat the life out of him, perhaps killed him. To make matters worse, he's given me not just proof of innocence, but a much greater chance to save my friends than ever."
A small meeting of minds, before the lady spoke up: "I always thought your temper was a problem. Against your constant bullies, we'd understand, but against anyone else? Being feared and unwanted has you end up here. Take it from us, it's as far from paradise as you can go."
"Bullies like at the Orphanarium? I don't deny that one bit. I just wished he was more specific. Either way I gotta explain myself, right my wrongs, and bring him back on crew… That's if I can even get through to him."
After a gasp and spit for a sudden wet clump, the male voice had an idea, one to make him chipper.
"Just as well my lady friend mentioned it… Could certainly call in a couple favours from a few buddies; how could they help you?"
"Are you serious? You'd actually take time to try something like that?"
"For you, sweetikins, we'd walk to the ends of the universe… Besides, what's the harm in trying?"
"Alright, I shall cross my fingers… I need a nationwide search on one Thomas Mayfield, a human whose origins I cannot place. Height an even six foot, perhaps change. Weight I'd guess in the 200s, certainly couldn't hide anywhere. Two eyes coloured like mine, smooth and shiny head, scruffy beard, and a shirt and jeans guy almost exclusively. Here's the only photo I have."
A greenish hand grabbed it; moments later they had a set of wind-drawing murmurs. Even for their best sources on board, it was only a pre-assault headshot; the 'search-and-rescue' got more complicated.
"Oh dear... To be honest pumpkin, even if you gave us a few days we couldn't promise anything solid. Sewer networks, residential pipelines, the various grates... He'll be a tough one to find."
*He's also quite the rude asshole too, still remember the share of middle fingers he gave me."
"And again... Watch your mouth!" came the lady's yell.
"Wait, he's a five-fingered sort? Why didn't you say that already? For a moment I thought I had to dust off the old deerstalker."
A slight chuckle at his own joke, one that only he got judging by the silence. Still, the thought had given Leela quite the surge.
"For you both to do this, damn does that mean the world to me… Hope you know that."
"Anything for your happiness." The same tentacle then gripped her hand, solidarity the idea. "But for God's sake, just promise that you won't take so much upon your shoulders, okay? On behalf of mutantkind, you have no idea how much we love, admire and express pride for the child you were and the woman you've become... NONE of that, though, is worth this constant suffering, understand me?"
"I'm starting to, and I don't think I've ever said anything like that."
"Can you do us that little favour?"
Most of her body loosening in that moment, Leela virtually kipped up off the floor, and put her face into that open grate.
"I've not a clue who you two are, nor whether I'll see or even meet you… But your perspective's done me a world of good tonight. How could I ever repay you?"
"Just knock on this grate every once in a while. And if by chance we can't answer, just look at your wrist… It's our small way of showing that we'll always be here for you, even if you'll never see us."
Leela removed her device to examine her bracelet; had it ever since Cookieville. Never knew what the weird characters inscribed on it meant, but after nearly thirty years, she finally knew now where it came from…
"Good night, and please, only pleasant dreams tonight, got it?"
And then the pitter-patters of shallow sewer water, before Leela had tucked herself into bed and drifted off to sleep.
For all the thoughts and worries on how she'd handle this latest career threat, the fears of invading her charge's life, or the lack of solutions, they just became vapour in that moment.
Figured she still had two weeks left, that she could afford to keep her distance and try to contact him. After all, her 'three strikes and out' method hadn't worked, and only reasoning and personal change, or promises of such, might've wiped the slate clean.
At least she really hoped so, at any rate.