Gone Went The Kins

The pain felt to subdue somewhat, but in fact the case was just that his nerves were overloaded to a point, where they were simply unable to process more stimulus. Dr. Claw looked down at his legs. He couldn't move them, and they looked awfully charred. He knew the power of his ray gun and was pretty much sure that he won't be able to use them again, and that what he feels now, are phantom pains. He was a man of thoughts, a mastermind behind crimes; lately he didn't attend most of M.A.D.'s operations personally, but let his agents do the dirty work; thus the loss of his legs were not a price too high for ruling the world; which he felt sure to have, now with Detective Gadget out of the way. (He had no doubt about the fate of the policeman, after witnessing what the ray done to him.) Yet, the damage demanded retaliation.

"You have destroyed something that's mine, Gadget, I'll take vengeance for that! It's time to destroy something, that's important to you!" he screeched, but his speech was interrupted by his new companion's guffaw.

"Don't you dare to laugh at my voice again, you mad cat! Understood?" The metal clad index finger pressed tightly against the irreverent cat's nose. He stopped tittering and nodded eagerly; partially because of the fearsome spikes, and partially because his mind was occupied by the unlimited amount of cat-food, which – no doubt – his new master will provide him, and he didn't want to fall out of favour.

The gauntlet wearing hand clenched into a fist and Claw's eyes fastened at it for a moment. He never thought highly of the gloves, but they have proven themselves useful apparently. He decided to keep them.

He let out one of his evil laughters, but even he had to admit that it sounds ridiculous on that voice. He made a mental note to do something about it, then turned the steering wheel and the aircraft took a sharp turn above Metro City.

After watching Brain disappear in the night, Penny headed back to her room. But her retreat was cut off; her mom was sitting in the living room with the lights turned on. The girl was unable to go up the stairs without being noticed. Not wanting to explain about their little trip, she decided to look for another way back up to her base.

Still taking her teddy bear by the paw, she sneaked out through the garage and examined the house from all angles. The front door was out of question; it led to the living room, she couldn't evade her mother that way. All windows were closed on the ground level (not surprising after what happened four years ago), none of them could be opened from the outside. The only way inside was the open window of her uncle's room on the storey. There was a ladder leaned against the garage's wall. She tested it, but it was too heavy for her to move it. Climbing up to the garage's roof, from there to the house's roof and then somehow descending down through the window wasn't a good solution. She didn't mind do dangerous things at all, but she had more common sense than most 4-year-olds, and was able to judge what is possible and what isn't. There was a tall tree near the house. She examined it, looking at and considering every branch one by one, but concluded that she can't reach the window from the tree either.

She was wrapt in her thoughts, when startled by a cab stopping in front of the house. A man got out of the car. The girl hid in the garage quickly, before he could see her. The man went to the front door and entered the house.

Mrs. Gadget had an unexplainable bad feeling. Her mind was occupied by her husband, who was sent on a dangerous mission in the middle of the night. He's been off to several risky adventures before, but for some reason, this time she was worried about him more than usual. She was unable to go back to sleep, but waited for his return full of anxiety in the living room. When she heard the door open, she rushed there with tremendous joy, only to be appalled with seeing her brother enter.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised by not only his appearance, but by the terror upon his face.

"You must leave the house in this instant!"

"What…"

"I have no time to explain!" he interrupted her. "Bring Penny, and I wake up your in-laws!" he said with such a facial expression, that the woman didn't contradict him; she run upstairs without even asking about her husband. Little she knew, that her daughter overheard the conversation from the garage. Penny was aware that the discovery of her leave is imminent. She had no better idea than to stay in the garage as long as she can, to delay the upcoming uncomfortable chat with her mother.

A squealing sound filled the air, intensifying by the second.

"Let this be a lesson for anyone, who dares to stand in my way!" said the piping voice triumphantly, although only his new pet was at hand to celebrate with him. A metal-covered finger pressed a button on the dashboard, then again, mercilessly.

The rumbling sounds of the two rockets igniting was scarcely audible, then the M.A.D.-jet pitched nose-up, leaving only a thick trail of black smoke.

Mrs. Gadget entered the room and was surprised by that her daughter was not to be found. But she had no time to think about it, suddenly everything around her was swallowed by supernatural brightness... The blast she never heard...

The earth shattering explosion was closely followed by another, and the silent night of the peaceful neighborhood turned into a flaming inferno…

It was a foreboding sight for the boy: the bottom of the sky was glowing crimson on the horizon, right at the direction of their house. Soon he saw the red and yellow flames climbing high in the night. The truth was inevitable as he got closer: he found only a large pile of burning rubble where his home used to be.

"Wowsers! Go-go Gadget-binoculars!"

He scanned the ruins desperately, but the binoculars were useless here, he wasn't able to see more by their aid either. Flames and thick smoke covered most of the area.

But wait! There is something! As if a pair of small feet were sticking out underneath a large piece of concrete!

Brain jumped down from his arms as Gadget landed on the lawn.

"Go-go Gadget-respirator!"

The mask replaced the copterblades.

"Go-go Gadget-watergun!"

The jet from his right forefinger opened a path to the middle of the heap of debris, that used to be the garage.

The first missile hit the first floor, the second one blasted at the ground level, almost erasing the building from the face of the earth, but that somewhat protected the garage behind the house. It collapsed also, but the fire hasn't consumed it yet as much as the rest of the ruins. Although, flames were approaching fast, threatening to engulf this part of the site too before long.

Penny was knocked out by the initial shockwave. She fell on the ground, and the family car just missed her as it rolled over. The vehicle ended up on its side and a big piece of the roof came crashing down on top of it, burying the girl.

Gadget reached her feet, the only part of his niece, which was visible among the debris. He tried to move the huge block of concrete, but no avail.

"Go-go Gadget-hands!"

Many yellow-gloved hands came to the help of the mechanically enhanced arms, all going at peak output. Was that enough, or was it that tiny bit of extra added by the human factor? We will never know... The lad's biological muscles were rendered too weak even to move his own body, but it's possible that his mental willpower made that small difference, that was needed to stir the large piece of concrete.

When the block toppled over, the lad felt his heart miss a beat literally, fearing of what he might find under it. A terribly devastated body perhaps; another one like his brother's. After a moment, what seemed to be an eternity, he caught the glimpse of his niece. She was unconscious but apparently unhurt. The vehicle took the weight of the big piece of the roof, and these two objects shielded her from the small debris, flames and most of the heat. The telescopic arms grabbed the small, lifeless body, and 'Go-go Gadget-legs!', the springs launched them high into the air; just in time to avoid the avalanche of rubble, which started due to the pile being disturbed. As fresh air, rich in oxygen, flown to the car's chassis, the fire blazed up, and when it reached the fuel tank, another explosion shook the ruins. Flames grasped out for the boy in the air, like they were the hands of the devil himself, but he was out of their reach before they could engulf him and he landed safely about 15 yards further, in a shower of debris.

"Look after Penny, Brain!" the lad's words came muffled from behind the respirator. He laid his precious cargo on the lawn. The toy bear was still dangling in her little hand.

He raced back to the remains of the house.

"Go-go Gadget-watergun!"

The extensive use of his water-spraying finger recently resulted that when he pointed his right index finger on the flames, there was enough water left for a short burst only, which was no match for the high-climbing fire.

"Wowsers!"

He scanned the heap of rubble desperately for the rest of his family. It was hopeless; thick smoke and blinding flames were covering the whole place. But he just refused to relinquish.

"Go-go Gadget-arms!"

His extending hands reached into the fire, hoping to find someone by groping, no matter how thin a chance that might be.

"Mom! Dad!" he cried, like he were anticipating to get an answer from the inside of the flaming inferno.

The sound of sirens split into the night, firebrigades arrived and even a helicopter began pouring foam on the fire. But Gadget couldn't just step back and wait, he wanted to find his parents badly. He was ready to run into the flames, two firefighters and Chief Quimby, who just arrived to the scene also, were wrestling him. But it wasn't them, who held him back eventually, but a little sound, that not many others would've noticed among the noise of ruins burning, engines running, firemen shouting, water splashing and sirens screaming. But again, it wasn't just because of his enhanced senses, but maybe due to the human sensitivity, which focused on the sound he wanted to hear: a slight coughing behind his back.

Brain did his best to wake up the blonde girl, who was left to his care, but there was not much he could do other than lick her face. Although, it worked apparently, because Penny recovered her senses with a coughing fit. Gadget ran to her niece.

"Un… Uncle…" her words were broken by another fit of coughs.

He was so happy to see her recover, he wanted to hug her, but stopped halfway through the move.

He stared at his hands. But he saw just two chunks of charcoal. Only now he noticed the pain, he never bothered with it while groping among the flames. There was no skin left on his hands, and metal parts of his gadgets were protruding from the charred little flesh, that he had remaining.

A recollection flashed into his mind from the abyss of his brain, a picture which he always wanted to forget, but which has burned into his memory indelibly for ever: the look upon his brother's face: horror and disgust, when he saw him in his naked existence, with the machinery built into his body.

He tried to hide his hands, not wanting to touch his niece with those crippled limbs, nor wishing to suffer the same turning away again; but Penny wasn't bothered a moment by the sight. No matter how did he look like, he was her uncle Gadget, who always provided her protection and comfort. She grasped for him. He never knew how he was able to refrain from screaming in pain, when his hands were grabbed, but he didn't want to scare the girl. She cuddled his uncle.

"Uncle Gadget!" she exclaimed, then she looked at the still burning pyre: "Mom!"

Gadget's heart sunk. He couldn't reply, just returned the hug and took her in his lap. The light of the fire was reflected in the big, green, wet eyes, as they both stared into the flames.

The Gadgets spent the rest of the night at the hospital's waiting-room. After his wounds were attended, the boy never minded the doctors, and rushed to see his parents, but he wasn't allowed to enter the intensive care section. He installed himself on a couch in front of the ward, waiting for any kind of news. He was unable to find any sleep, despite all the painkillers he was given. Both his hands were heavily bandaged. They suffered very serious wounds in the fire. An average human couldn't gotten away with such injuries without his hands being amputated; fortunately, the lad's mechanical implants ensured that he was able to use them again.

Brain was lying at his master's side, resting his head on his thigh. He had his fair share of wounds: lots of sticking plaster was criss-crossing his body, strapping the scratches caused by the grey cat's sharp claws; yet his spirit was down much more because he sensed his master's depressed mood.

On the other hand, Penelope has escaped virtually unhurt, suffering only a couple of light bruises miraculously. Having been unconscious and moveless, she hasn't inhaled too much hot smoke either. The doctor wanted to observe her more, but she insisted on to be with her uncle, and when she treaded on the doctor's toes heftyly to emphasize her request, he decided that she's well enough to join the boy.

She settled on his other side. The night was calm in the hospital, people walked by seldom, yet none of the Gadgets were able to get any sleep.

Despite his burnt hands, the lad wasn't helpless at all; his Gadget-hands were able to do anything for him. One of them provided the pillow again, hoping that his niece will be able to catch some sleep and find some relief. The girl laid down – althought, only by the request of her uncle –, but she was just tossing and turning awake. She put the pillow aside, embraced her toy bear and placed her head in her uncle's lap.

"They will recover, won't they?" she looked up to him.

She was only four, but the boy respected her much more, than just to tell her a lie to raise false hopes, like many people would've done to a child. He was looking for something comforting, yet true:

"Everything will be all right."

'It wasn't a lie' he reassured himself in his thoughts, 'things will sooth themselves, one way or another.'

Then he started to speak on a calming voice just to chase away the silence weighing upon them:

"You know, I've been there, where people thought one may not return from…" and he told his niece and his canine friend all about his incident and the recovery.

"Please! What do you say?" demanded the man lying in the hospital bed. The sole survivor of the Gadgets' house was wrapped up in bandages top to bottom. Next to the bed, monitors were drawing medical graphs, instruments were peeping in regular intervals.

There was only one other person in the room. Chief Quimby was facing a tough decision. Police has captured many M.A.D. agents at the warehouse, one more or less didn't matter. And the chance was very teasing. They hasn't been able to plant an agent in Dr. Claw's organization until now.

"You know that this is a one way street."

"Yes, but I have nothing left in my life other than the wish to send Dr. Claw behind bars. He used me and threw me away when he couldn't make more use of me. He killed my sister and her husband…" the man's mouth was parched, but he continued. "I met many of his agents, I know them well. I will keep company with them again and infiltrate into M.A.D. Believe me, I'll report you about their operations. Just let me go!"

"All right!" the Chief has made his mind up. "Your old life is now over, you will be declared legally dead. You will get a new identity. You'll need plastic surgery anyway, I'm afraid. Your burns are very ugly. But no-one may know about this, including your remaining relatives. Your life does not worth a straw, if Dr. Claw finds out about your true identity."

After that, Quimby left the ward.

The lamps of the hospital were beaming their cold, white light stolidly whole night long. Dawn's first rays began fading the black rectangles of the windows, which resembled funeral hangings – or least the Gadgets felt that way. Neither of them were able to get any sleep during the hours of darkness. They had nobody to help them, so they tried to encourage each other. But they run out of words way too soon and just gazed the black windows and white walls in silence, submerged in anxiety.

Penny raised her head by the noise of the approaching steps. She looked at Chief Quimby with big, begging eyes:

"Mom?"

The Chief shook his head. She was only four, but understood the unsaid words. Wetness glittered in the corner of the green eyes.

"Dad?"

"His wounds were too grave, I'm sorry."

Tears filled the boy's eyes too.

"Can't anything be done for him? Maybe he could get implants like I did…"

"I'm afraid that's impossible. He suffered such serious injuries, that he should be rebuilt completely. But then there'd be nothing human left in him. The ray damaged his nerves so much, that it wouldn't be him anymore, just a mere robot."

"Grandma? Grandpa?" the little girl demanded.

Quimby crouched to look into her eyes.

"You know my child, sometimes in life, things don't happen as we wish…"

The girl was crying loud now. She clung onto her only remaining relative, hoping to find relief and protection from the sorrow at the chest of her uncle. But his tears were flowing freely also, thinking of his parents and his brother. But this thought reminded him of a promise. And that brought a word to his mind, a word he never thought much about before: responsibility. Young Gadget grew up that night.

He tried to swallow his tears and turned to Chief Quimby:

"What will happen to Penny now?"

"Well, I think Mrs. Gadget's parents…"

"They have passed away before."

"Did Mrs. Gadget's brother had a wife?"

"No, he was a bachelor."

"Do you have any living relative?"

"None I know of" said the lad, and only now he realized the meaning of his own words completely, sobbing overcome him again.

'And the one I know of is out of question' thought the Chief, then continued aloud: "How old are you?"

"I'm…" He took a deep breath to restrain himself from sobbing. Not because he felt ashamed of crying over the loss of his family, but he felt responsible for someone for the first time in his life and was determined to pay full attention to a matter that will effect the whole life of his niece. "I'm 17."

"Hm. I'm afraid you are too young for guardianship."

"Will she be put in an orphanage? Please no!" he gazed at the Chief begging.

"Trust me, I'll come up with something! She will be all right."

Thoughts were running around in Quimby's head. He reached for his pipe. He would've liked to inspire his thinking by smoking, but then he remembered that they are in a hospital, so he laid it aside for now. For the meantime, he wanted to raise the boy's spirits:

"You are a fine young lad! I knew your brother well and tonight I saw what you are capable of."

"Well, I was thinking of enlisting to the Police Academy."

"I'm happy to hear that. You have my backing. And if you need anything, just let me know. You can count on me, I will be at your help in every possible way… But now there is nothing more you can do here. You all need a rest, go home!"

He regretted the word at the moment he uttered it.

"What home? I haven't got a home anymore."

"I'm really sorry! But don't worry, we will find something!" said the Chief and patted the boy's back encouragingly.