While the city's original hero couple could hug each other tight, their ordeal had proven far from over.
Though unaware of his state-wide manhunt, Bloodhound had found himself returning to Leela's apartment, the lights all switched off. Still white-hot on his mind, he knew he hadn't carried out his order, and so took his time to slip through the door, float in tip-toes upstairs to avoid those potential power struggles again.
Back at Apartment 1I, her remembered his first-ever face-to-face before getting a good grip on the recliner, savouring the cave-in to come. But as he found her snoring on some ginger fellow's chest, a DOOP super-soldier had crept from behind to rip the recliner from his hands. Giving a whisper of "We got it, ma'am", the minion's mouth was cupped, his body was seized, and he was dragged back outside, kicking out and screaming all the while.
Though the commotion and recliner thuds had the two wake, begging to kick some ass, they knew they could now rely on DOOP to do the best job. A care-free shrug between the lovers, as they soon returned to sleep.
"Hound has been leashed, I repeat, Hound has been leashed. Bring the pine-lime, pronto."
Bloodhound, his focus spent on resisting his latest foe, had no hope for the sudden ambush to come. As uncordial as they pleased, the three tough types had kept him restrained as they yanked his neck back, soon firing that green-and-gold stream straight down his throat.
Remembering how The Admiral once reacted, they performed a few finger-flicks of their own to put the creature to sleep. Their orders of 'capture and cure' complete, and now no longer fearing for loss of civilian life, the three elite units took off to await further orders.
Good odds had on distributing further cures around Earth, maybe even their planetary detention centre. Crossing fingers, the events of these last months would soon be just a forgotten memory…
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Rising from the sidewalk as if he woke from an autopsy, Mayfield had only shades of memories regarding his first night in New New York.
Starting from how he laid here; the confused walks, the scream, the confrontation, the beatdown… Instinct was to cover his mouth, an especially wise decision once his eyes caught more unpleasant discoveries.
"Ugghhh, ohhh man… SWEET SHIT TO SAINTHOOD, what happened to my arm?!"
Scrambled backwards into the apartment, and soon started to look over what he wore…
"Good God this thing's hideous! Where's the Elton John wannabe drongo who's responsible? Swear I'd be a dead man for walking in it!"
Dragged himself down the wall, and as his arm seized his head, he suddenly realised why. Was the exact spot he sat in, for realising he no longer had a job, or a reason to remain. Started to chain the links up; his coronation of sorts involved this same outfit he wore, so figured he might've had friends close enough to strip somewhere…
Taking off his boots, he crept back up the stairs and through the apartment, where the '1I' called out to him again. This time he ended up in their recreation room, more memories of some huge upcoming battle piercing into his skull. The dead-cold refusal at first, the sudden change of heart, the tornado he became to become the Battler…
As quiet as he could, he grabbed every last piece of his apparel and crept out, getting changed once he reached the bottom of the stairs. Neatly folding his old hero outfit and leaving it offside, he then disappeared out the front door, perhaps never to return.
The shuffle had given off bitter airs as his hunched self trudged through, the kid now facing more questions and having less answers as to the life ahead of him. Of what he did remember, he had even LESS to show for whatever adventures he had.
Kicking those old newspapers towards the winds, or having his share of odd street encounters, he would eventually wind up right back where he started… The Orphanarium, just as much a condemned hole as it had always been.
Another flash in his eyes, soon a wry smile for it all. To think the roads dusting at his feet had begun his walk towards so-called paradise, to think he had sown just seeds of shame as he glanced upon that peeling paint, those barren fields, and the broken windows once more.
But as he rubbed hands across the stone bricks, and breathed in that familiar odour, he lightened a little for what stood over his oldest jacket.
"Ohhhh, I never deserved her…"
Sudden remembrance for the cyclopean woman to enter his life. The chance she gave that raised him back up, gave his fresh reset, and renewed that little hope into something virile and luscious. Only hoped he had repaid whatever had been owed, as he sat alone thinking of the flawless starfield to greet him.
Only an old—daresay ancient—associate stopped his train of thought cold.
"Quite the sight to enjoy this early, isn't it?"
"Agghhh, who the hell are—" Mayfield stopped himself, took a closer peek. The memories of why he'd been brought here, and how he ended up in this creature's sights, had started to come back.
"Lord Nibbler? Hey, about time you showed your arse 'round here! I'd been meaning to have a word about this little experiment of ours… Like, I don't know, how I'm missing my friggin' arm!"
"Give yourself some time and encounters, young Mayfield, and everything will again make sense. Speaking of our experiment, I've seen everything of your deeds for up to now… Suffice to say, you've done fine just as I thought you would."
"Is that so? Sure doesn't look it from my end. Still, I'm sure you've gone and convinced me somehow, so I'll hold off judgement."
"It may not look it now, but you'll realise why I've placed such pride in you, soon enough."
"Sure can't claim whatever you're offering… Can't help but think that everyone's been saving my arse out there… So, what brings you here now?"
"I wished to express my empathies in person, given word of your redundancy. You've also got my respects and gratitude for all your efforts—without them, the universe may have faced its gravest dangers."
"Good grief, slow down! All I cared about was trying to survive this future, I've never wanted to be anybody's hero. Course these days, I'm not sure I even have the means anymore."
"Believe us, we've messed up your life enough. For how you came to us now, we certainly didn't leave you like that. In fact, on mine and my people's honour, I shall find a way to repay your efforts."
"Maybe a million bucks would be—"
"Just say the word and it's yours."
That had Mayfield thinking hard, if not looking in disbelief: "Holy shit, you're serious?"
"Do I sound like I'm lying?"
"Uh, on second thought…" Mayfield looked back to the stars above. "Maybe you don't have what I really want."
"Search your heart then... What do you most desire, right now?"
Mayfield thought of the friends to have forgotten him, of the job he hadn't been good for, of his purpose to fade away. But twinkling well above that and whatever else, there was another thing.
"Truth is, the only people I've ever loved are gone. I tried and got nowhere figuring this city and its people out, so please tell me… My family, whatever happened to them?"
"In what context do you speak of?"
"What other context, since you've known so much about my life? Though I've somehow been so lucky, do you understand mortality like I do? In all this surviving, I never had time to grieve how they, for all I knew, died as resentful shells of themselves. I was the 'baby' to waste his life, disgrace their names and send them away… You say I've redeemed myself, I say not to those who mattered most."
A sage nod to follow, as Mayfield tried to fight back tears.
"Ah, I understand. Sadly, I'm not sure how I can help you."
Mayfield had found himself shaking; fear and rage stirring within.
"Why can't you? You mind telling me who the hell broke us up then?! Better yet, why they never let me communicate to tell them I was okay?"
"You've a right to be angry, but consider this. Did you really want to involve them in your galaxy-spanning wars and grudges? This world's already enough of a challenge without such targets on your back."
"Yeah, lost pieces finding out, so valid point there. I guess it just would've been nice, that's all."
"Besides, I'm sure wherever they are now, they've seen how you've done magnitudes more for yourself and their name. They can be at peace now, if the thought is of any comfort."
"Yeah, I sure would hope so… So now what?"
"Well, I've got to return to work, and you… Are you going to return home?"
"Can't, last bus has already left. Though now that you put the idea in mind…"
He had the money to remain riverside for a month or so, but he wasn't sure about wanting to. Only so many books, games, lanes or dinosaurs he could enjoy, for all the downtime he now had.
"To be honest, I could use a change of scenery after all this."
"Well, if that's your decision… Where do you think you'll go?"
"My true home, if it's still around. You know the one. Guess I've a lot of thinking to do."
"That I certainly do.
"Could I get a small favour though? I mean, since I wouldn't want the place wasted."
He whispered a little into Nibbler's ear, getting only a thoughtful nod before he moved through the door.
Turning back to those stars, Mayfield could only point and hold a fist to his heart, a tribute to the family, and especially his Dad. People who never held the greatest cards growing up, but played them so well that they still enjoyed true loves of their own, still raised a solid family… Least for the most part.
Even the Royal Flushes, of what he knew then and now, couldn't brag of the same. After a final smile, feeling a little at peace, he rose back to his feet thinking of matters to settle.
Having felt like he needed one, first on his mind was an ideally quick shower in those former headquarters. A chance to get clean, grab his things, and go; better than getting escorted to the cannons.
Further blanks filling in as he stripped off in silence; a scour, scrub and soap up while enjoying small laughs to himself. To think he'd been so worried about what he once shared among crew. Once been as behind as a one-legged hurdler, nowadays, maybe a one-armed swimmer.
A clean shirt and pair of jeans to go with the jacket, as he stuffed everything else inside his travel bag. The chance was his to go ghost for good, but there was plenty he hadn't explored yet, that he knew he should've for old times' sake.
All those meetings at conference, the rare chatter inside the lounge, the warnings by the hidden gym, the preparations around the hangar… And after hand-prints on the doors, the contract signings and check-ups at each office.
Maybe one more view couldn't hurt…
One giveth and one taketh though; standing at the open lift, he found—of all people to be up—the Professor tinkering about. Once those memories flooded back, he'd been ready to reverse course and disappear, unsure of what he'd say.
At least before The Professor caught him in his sights, where quelle surprise, he had other ideas.
"Hey Maybanks, a word if you'll please?"
Gave him no word in reply, as he moved towards the Widow's Walk.
"Hello, earth to Mayberry, are you deaf? I said, a WORD if you'll please?"
A subtle groan, for it became unavoidable. Mayfield turned to face his former big boss, now sporting the oddest of grins.
"Why Professor, you can have two words from me if you like… Fuck you."
"What's the meaning of that?! I only wanted to discuss your role in this company."
"I'm sorry, my role? You made me redundant pal, you think I still owe you the time of day?"
"Well excuse me, I do tend to forget such things. How you came to know, I don't care, but sorry young man… We do have to let you go."
"Spare me your sorry apologies, you've never meant them anyway. Just tell me why, when I lost my limb, and almost my life, to help you achieve so much."
"For simple honesty's sake, it's to rehire my uncle Fry at severely reduced wages & tips, assuming he has come back. He never complained, he has two arms, his title's much fancier, and you know I can't pay two of you at once."
"If you ask for it, thou shalt receive… I complained because to give my thanks, I wanted and willed better things for this place. I'm still figuring out this arm thing, but it wouldn't surprise me if I lost it working with you. And titles? Appearances? I didn't need them to break company records. And you're seriously gonna sell me your 'two at once' bullshit? You just said you'd pay him far less!"
"You mean to tell me that I haven't been a good boss to you?"
"Absolutely, in fact, you WERE the thing to hold us all back! How you gambled our lives away, how you harassed and ignored your employees, how you squandered our funds and assets, whether on stupid projects or ridiculous whims…"
The Professor gave just a blank stare, as Mayfield wrapped up.
"Why should Mom worry when, for all our efforts planting seeds, you've done everything to stop us growing? Though I've no stake anymore within these walls, you'd all be better off for you stepping down."
Hit the same nerve right after his first delivery; The Professor grew riled enough to seize his shirt and get in his face.
"I might've had half a mind to hire you back, now I'd suggest you leave before I call your escorts!"
"Mate, you're not worth that effort of a signature again. And if you think you're gonna send me Sunward after all this, then you get this one warning… Stand down, take your hands off, and get out of my way."
"Or else what, Maynard?"
Without a change in eyes or mouth, the kid reached to place his large hand over Professor's grip, squeezing tight so that the cricks and cracks of bones could be heard.
Only once the old man gasped and yelled out, did he let go, did he begin to speak.
"Loud and clear now? Before you make a decision, remember my warning about your lab and those broken bones. I'm nobody's hero, but DON'T make me your villain, got it? Farewell."
Mayfield soon wandered off to the Widow's Walk, the new day dawning as he walked around and caught his old apartment in the distance. Knew he truly sunk his chances of working for Planet Express again, but grew quite settled as he closed his eyes and took in the memories. A little time spent before he disappeared back down the lift, ignoring his name being cursed.
All his business concluded, he hauled his bag and headed for the bus station, where before he left for good, he just needed another final taste of home.
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Cooking up some breakfast in that top-floor palace, and getting so flooded with recalls he almost burnt his food, he set up his plate and turned on the TV, where wall-to-wall coverage of The Zookeeper's decades-long arrest had come to him live.
Already had hefty sentences lined up for his well-exposed criminal past, but when word got around of the tortures, scam charities, ransom demands and deadly wars to be instigated, the experts were unanimous in declaring a billion-year sentence, give or take a few zeroes. Earth might've been bereft of life, before he could 'escape.'
And for those responsible for Zookeeper's arrest, and the return of that prized Quantum Gemerald, their several encounters over the years were also covered in great detail. Though the memories really burned as he heard of the horrors Zookeeper subject him to, he calmed down as Linda shuffled her sheets and stared into the camera, her signature smile on display.
"Ladies, gentlemen, aliens of all creeds… Live from Los Angeles and broadcast around the galaxy, I'd like you to join us, this hour on Root 2 News, to thank the New Justice Team and DOOP for stopping our universe's most dangerous crook yet. Their efforts shall never be forgotten."
"Zookeeper was hardly a challenge… MORBO DEMANDS THE NEW JUSTICE TEAM!"
A small chuckle for the idea, and a plan to switch off and get travel plans started before the next headline flashed on screen. The old DOOP Headquarters, not even a half-hour walk, where there'd be just an hour before a white-outfitted, green alien would be led in handcuffs. According to reports, Nixon had made good on his threats, and rumours were rife for the alien's termination.
Another memory searing in once he got a good look, Mayfield slapped his recliner and stood straight up. Straight out to the balcony, and a grip of that titanium bannister.
"No way in hell am I going to allow that… There'd truly be no justice in the world, if they kicked him out on his arse."
Placing his plate in the sink and leaving his things behind, he trekked his way downstairs and towards that courthouse, hoping he wouldn't bump into those former colleagues of his.
Did try to kill them, and certainly more than once, after all.