1897
Olivia sat down in the bottle, sniffing. Her were fists throbbing with pain from her attempts to escape from her prison of glass. She had stopped her screaming hours ago, after realizing no one would help her down there.
She silently watched as the thugs went on building some sort of trap, following that rat's instructions. The little girl shuddered as she saw a human axe being added to the already deadly-looking trap.
Her eyes flashed towards the cell where her father was locked into, forced to work for that...that awful rat. She looked at the axe again, and her gaze fell on the uman gun. She shivered again, and she began to prey that Basil wouldn't fall in Ratigan's trap.
Then she saw something with the corner of the eye: a little boy about her age was sneaking behind a barrel, looking towards the trap.
"Wait!" she screamed, pressing her hands on the glass. He turned around to see the little girl imprisoned into a bottle on the floor, just a few feet from the trap the thugs were setting on.
Jeremy stopped, twitching his wormlike tail. Well, that was unusual: he was used to see many strange things happen in the sewers, but he had never seen any child being imprisoned there.
He glanced at the thugs to make sure no one was looking towards him, then he walked closer to the bottle.
"Who are you?" he asked, looking at the little girl trough the glass "what are you doing here?"
"He kidnapped me!" she exclaimed, pointing towards Fidged who was also working on the trap "they're going kill the Queen! You must help me!"
Jeremy blinked, shocked.
"The Queen? Are you sure?" he asked nervously, pressing his hands on the glass. He knew his father was a criminal, but regicide...that was a big deal. What was he planning to do?
"Of course I'm sure, I heard one of them say that! He's gonna kill her, and he wants to kill Mr. Basil too! Please, you have to..."
"Basil? You mean Basil of Baker Street?" he interrupted her. He did not know much about his father's businesses, but he had often heard him talking about a certain Basil of Baker street with an odd mixture of grudge, hate and admiration.
"Yes, it's him!" she exclaimed, relieved to see that strange boy knew about Basil too "this trap is for him. Listen, you have to go to warn him about this..."
Jeremy shook his heas ad stepped back. "I cannot do that" he said, padding away without looking at her "I'm sorry."
"Wait!" Olivia cried after him, but he had already disappeared behind another barrel.
1919
"So...that's really how you and mom met?" Howard asked, fascinated.
Jeremy smiled slightly. "Indeed."
Howard grinned. "Aww, you just gotta love those first impressions..."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Come on, dad, you know you should have behave differently...you should have help her!"
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I was not much of a knight on a white steed at the time, Howard. Put yourself in my position."
"But you acted like a coward!"
Jeremy took a deep breath, trying to not snap. His son could be utterly annoying sometimes. "Howard, did you forget about what I told barely five minutes ago?"
"Uh...ya mean that 'no interruptions' thing?"
"Smart boy."
"Alright then. I promise there won't be any further interruption. Now go on!"
"Manners, Howard. That's not the right way to ask for something."
The little boy rolled his eyes. "Oooo-kay...would you please go on with the story?"
Jeremy messed up his son's brown hair. "That's better."
1897
"I'm sorry" Jeremy repeated to himself, sitting on the cold stone floor of the lair "but I can't do this. I just can't."
"A wise decision, young boy" a too well known voice said from behind him.
He winced and stood up, then he turned to Ratigan.
"I...uh...I..." he stuttered, without even know what to say.
"What are you doing here, Jeremy?" he asked coldly, folding his arms "I don't recall giving you the permission to leave your quarters."
"I was just..."
"Just snooping around, weren't you?" he said, an annoyed look in his yellow eyes.
Jeremy gulped and lowered his own eyes, staring at his shoes.
"I'm..."
"I know, I know" Ratigan muttered, looking almost bored now "you're sorry. You always say that...look at me when I'm talking to you, young boy!" he growled.
Jeremy raised his eyes from the ground, his legs shaking.
"Much better" Ratigan muttered "now go back in your room, Jeremy. And don't dare show up until I tell you to do so."
"But..."
"No buts, Jeremy. Great things are going to happen very soon, and I want you to stay out of the way. Did I make myself clear enough?"
Jeremy nodded. "Yes, sir" he said with a small voice. He began to walk towards his room, then he suddenly stopped and looked back to Ratigan.
"...father?"
"What?" he said, sounding a little annoyed.
"You...won't hurt her, will you?" the little boy asked shakily.
Ratigan stared at him thoughtfully. "Why should tou care?"
"I...it' just..." Jeremy didn't know what to say.
Ratigan sighed. "I don't think it will be necessary. Now go back to your room."
"Yes, sir."
Ratigan watched as his son dissappeared behing the corner, then he shook his head.
'He's too naive to live here. Too kindhearted, just like his mother. He wouldn't last two days in the sewers without my protection.'
The rat shrugged, looking towards the cell where Hiram Flaversham was builting the robot. There was no reason to worry about him, now: it was just matter of a few hours before they could leave the underworld forever.
Jeremy looked up to see the Big Ben: it was almost eleven. He turned his gaze away from the clock tower.
"He's fallen from the Big Ben", the henchmouse had said "fell into the river...saw him falling with my own eyes...surely drowned..."
The boy sat on the ground, staring blankly towards the water. He had been wandering around there for almost a hour, and there was no sign of Ratigan.
That henchmouse was right: Professor Ratigan was dead.
And he had been left alone once again.
Jeremy let out a dry sob. What was he supposed to do now? He had fled from the lair as soon as he had heard the news: without his father protecting him, the underworld was no longer a safe place for him.
He once again looked up to the clok tower wich Ratigan had fallen from. 'Did I seriously think he had somehow survived from a such fall?' he asked to himself, getting up and beginning to walk along the riverbank as a few raindrops began to fall.
He suddenly stopped as he saw something with the corner of the eye. He turned to see a dark, massive figure lying limply on the ground, just a few feet from the Thames' dark wather.
Jeremy felt his heart beat faster as he carefully approached the figure.
"Father?" he called out softly.
The figure did not move, but Jeremy could see him clearly now.
Ratigan was lying on his stomach in a mud puddle, his eyes closed. His clothes were torn, and his fur was soaked with wather. He had somehow menaged to gain the riverbank.
Jeremy gulped as he went next to him. He was still breathing: his breath was sharp and difficult. "Father?" he called again, putting a shaky hand on his shoulder and shaking him, trying to wake him up.
Ratigan shuddered, then he opened his eyes. He tried to move, but he let out a growl of pain and he let himself drop back in the mud. His golden eyes stared at his son.
"Here you are, young boy" he said in a husky voice after a few moments "fled rom the lair, did you?"
"Yes" he admitted "they tought you were dead, and I..."
"You made a wise move. You must get away from here, Jeremy. You're no longer safe here in London."
"But you're alive!" Jeremy exclaimed "I have no reason to..."
Despite the pain in his chest, Ratigan laughed as if it was the best joke he had ever heard. Jeremy shuddered as he heard that frightening laughter. Had he gone insane?
Ratigan's laughter ceased, and he began coughing. "I..." he gasped for breath, then he spoke hoarsely "I won't stay alive for long, Jeremy."
Jeremy felt as if somebody had stabbed him in his chest. "No!" he exclaimed, trying to hold back his tears "you're not going to die! You must try to stand up and..."
"It's useless" Ratigan said with a terrifying calmness "I'm not going to make it. Now shut up and listen to me, Jeremy."
"But..."
"No buts, boy. Just listen. Do you remember..." he coughed again "do you remember the riddle I told so many times? The one you never managed to solve?"
"Y...yes" he answered, confused. Why was he talking about that riddle?
"Good" he gave him a half-smile "you must remember that riddle, Jeremy. I'm sure you'll solve it, someday...when you'll be ready..."
His body shook as he coughed again. He closed his eyes as his breath become more and more difficult.
"Jeremy? Are you still here?" he asked quietly.
"Y...yes" Jeremy's voice was shaking as if it was on the verge of tears.
"No tears, young boy. Crying won't help you. Now listen..." he opened his eyes once again "get away from London. You're nor safe here. Run away, and only come back when you'll be grown up and strong enough to defend yourself. Will you do that?"
"Father..."
"Account this as my death wish. Promise me you will come back when you'll be stronger. Not before."
Jeremy finally began to sob, tears streaming down his face. "I promise."
"Good boy" Ratigan said in a whisper, then he let his head drop on the ground and closed his eyes for the last time.
"F...Father?" Jeremy called, touching his shoulder. Ratigan didn' move, and Jeremy realized he had stopped breathing.
A few miles away, Olivia Flaversham, exausted from the events of the day, was sleeping pacefully wrapped in her daddy's arm, a happy smile on her little face.
Little she knew that in the same moment, on the riverbank of the Thames, another child was crying huddled against his own father's dead body, once again alone in the world.