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It was a final day without fanfare, as routine a ride as virtually the rest over years of steering the wheel, and otherwise steering the ship.
And as leather crunched across sidewalks and bitumen, was proving quite the task to keep it together—summed up, life's simplest phrase to never fulfil, even to go her hardest; failures be damned, an ending neither fitting nor deserved.
All that was left was to reimagine what might've been, reflect in quiet solitude after collecting some personal things at her place.
"Monitor, a medley of our classic hits, thanks. And do alert me at once, if you catch anything unusual."
Simple request at conference, and an affirmative reply to kick her feet up; would switch back between security footage and photo albums, as starlight once more consumed the sunset. In many an adventurous memory, whether kept behind plastic or between her ears, a common theme to realise.
From the guy she'd reject 'till she could no longer reconsider, decisive rescues and damn the perils, never deterred from doing his best by her. A similar quality-though very deeply flawed—her once Officer would display, one only sensed out of mortal danger.
But as she thought of how best to prepare for next lives, as her arms began pillowing her head, an emergency siren would blare across the room, send her bolting upright.
"Disarm, DISARM! Mother-fu—what is your major malfunction?"
"None at all. Was ordered to alert you, not be subtle about it. Anyway, look alive, mystery intruder on the floor."
"What other time than now?" she'd groan.
Loose-lidded cream to palm as she'd twist toward signs of movement—who else to trespass but their common blight of late, at the twilight of this life? World's End to await the wicked, and had earnt her place long before now.
But to note a certain and madly yapping accent, would handspring over the rail for experiencing an immediate surge.
"Ohhh, bless those sewer dregs, that doctor… Guess who won the second chance lottery?"
Hitting the ground she'd sprint and grab some Pi-in-One, then approach with intent of slipping him up. Mumbles about an ex-partner—an equal yet a superior—who'd prattled on about classic cartoons; apparently had their uses, not that she'd oblige him.
Of course, to discover intruders against the lockers, their face or skull clutched in fistfuls, would place the oil on top of hers and tiptoe with a smile.
"How? HOW?!"
"Heh, was gonna axe if you're holdin' up okay, but—"
Very voice to match his eyes, "The FUCK do you think? Imagine the lungs flooding and life fading to black. Imagine wanting to scrabble out and breathe. Imagine being so broken you couldn't do a thing… And now I'd wake up as if none of it ever happened?"
"Perks of the 31st century, pal. Where we don't need miracles—not always—to welcome ya back."
"What kinda San Andreas load of shit is this? Who am I to keep deserving the impossible, seriously?"
"Simply, a guy who wasn't the bum I'd judge them as being. An Officer I shoulda heard out."
"So YOU had a hand in all that? I mean, might've been nice—hell of a slate cleaner though."
"Good, good, wouldn't blame ya for skippin' town. Now, what was it you hoped to share here?"
"Gimme a minute, please." A hand offered to help him up, and upon a bench. "So, just what WAS that thing?"
"I haven't a clue, I'm afraid. That I can tell, creature's had a real soft spot for me, and somehow outta free will. Course now, can't help but wonder why to hear of this Master creep."
"Branded me an evildoer, yet offered a choice my first day. Either do my job, and live in peace, or pursue truths and knowledge forbidden—must've meant those miracles."
"Never helped that it was in my ear, warning me to watch out. Must've been a grand game, having us—"
"Be played against each other?"
"Gotta be. These hands, there's no washing them; bet my life I'da been pinned and put away, were it so willed."
"Course I'd piss off such influential pricks… Why on Earth is all this coming out now?"
"Trust issues aside, they'd assure me of all sins forgiven, to keep my mouth shut. Nothing worse to make happen, and seemed the natural choice, since none'd believe me."
Steady he'd stand, all resolve recharged, "All of a sudden, though I still loathe it, all you'd done now makes sense. Made to believe you were helpless, so you could become a personal plaything… Who'd believe you, as you said, even as they'd twist screws, stoke flames, crafted a living Hell?"
"Well, when you put it like that." Only the clicking of buttons to hear from there, as she'd mull it over.
"Kept the PIN of a real old card; with every dollar spent, reminders of my greatest regret, one to never repeat."
In her hands then, all the taxi fares with creams on top, breaking her grin out even wider.
"Thought of charging for the search n' rescue… This'll do even WITH that in mind. Come along, let's go for a walk."
A firm handshake to cement their reunion, and it wasn't long when they'd vanish into the clear moonlit night.
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"Well kid, though I'm sure this wasn't kind to you, just imagine it through this schoolgirl's eye."
Sure couldn't mistake those whiffs; might've sworn to curdling skin, being led through the gymnasium. Right then, educated guess on how she'd endure Zoidberg on the daily, all as she'd point to young faces within wooden frames.
"They once called me 'Queen' round here… Do you know why I preferred Captain in time?"
"Because it came from those who meant and respected it?"
"That right there's a ten Bennies answer."
"The hell does that—ohhh! But surely, you lot had advanced enough to see past—"
"Growing up, I wanted to believe that; every day, tried to earn a friendship or even a grudging respect. Y'know, of everybody I've met, you're the first to never freak out 'bout my eye."
"More pressing matters, and then there's growing up reading Guinness and Ripley's—peers made sure I'd relate to those characters first."
"Solace had in that, huh? Could never afford books here, so to twist a turn of phrase, had to beat 'em if I couldn't join 'em. That floor behind us was my biggest ticket—for 'just a favour', was gonna gain entry to our Barefoot Slide Olympics."
Young handmaid to return after a draw of breath, regaling all the messy specifics of waste and liquids scrubbed out to satisfy the organisers. A never-ending sentence it'd seem, one to grow so molten over he'd grab and shatter a group shot.
"It's not THAT serious anymore, damn!"
"Still hate myself taking that for granted. So these sawn-off savages, did they even EAT given—"
"Huh, come to think about it, I would hear 'em whine to Warden about being hungry."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"I know, put so much past 'em too. Hate me for what I'd inherit, fine, the things I couldn't control, whatever…"
Covered her mouth, then, to stifle giggles, "They saw hopes of humbling me, I saw free soup buffets and skills I could build. Gee, how could a girl cyclops get such landslide victories, literal ones too?"
An amused eye-roll offered, as moonbeams through the ceiling would guide them through the darkness; at the other end, the Hall of Fame of this hellhole, one to express quick contempt over.
"Lemme take a wild guess, you got nailed up here after these guys?"
"Never made sense to me either."
"Figures, why believe in standards anymore?"
"Just picture these people on a date, for real. 'Wow, you floss real well?' 'Nooo, you insert yourself in news spots? 'Really, you've tasted every McDonald's sandwich?' Gimme a break! Still, maybe was the journey to matter most; wouldn't be up here otherwise."
"For a couple good friends, clarity on myself, woulda shredded all honours in a heartbeat. Well, had I the choice anyways."
"Oh yeah, what was it like all those miles away?"
"Every last specialist I'd see, dozen or so, to declare me a waste of society; none to bother over WHY I'd act out, nor what'd trigger me to."
"Which meant?"
"No idea what or why I was suffering, thus no ability to correct it. Being a year old then, it'd matter little. As I got outside more, however…"
"Even to seem totally normal on the outside?"
"Was maybe why my struggles stood out so clearly, ensure my peers I'd be an easy target, even outcast for 'em. An invitation to meet attempts at friendship with vulgar demands, insults or threats, even the odd ambush. Never got any answers why, and in time, didn't seek them out either."
"So that's why your scars weren't always obvious."
"Save for so few, never trusted a soul again. Made it work somehow, getting scholarships and on Dean's lists… But come crunch time, kept mostly silent in class or in private, fearing I'd never escape that life. Killed my prospects, AND stayed weak and worthless to boot."
"Hence the miracles; AGAIN a madness makes sense. And trust me to validate your opinion of others."
Got a knowing nod as they'd enter a familiar hallway, only to take an immediate left. Two bunk beds, a couple of desks, and an ensuite, best he could tell; most to be in bad nick or even busted apart.
"THIS was the slice of heaven you paid such hell for?"
"It WAS better, but yes. To the point I was never sure of peace or safety. Were I paid a Lincoln in hand each time I got harassed, I'd make Manhattan rent by morning. Course, since I didn't, could only try thinking of ways to silence the jeers—had days of wanting to do so permanently."
Cheeks to really redden again, as soon after she'd call a taxi for West 43rd, Applied Cryogenics in particular. The oddest chill to have, several beats skipped, even before sonorous voices bounced about hallways; heard them come closer, cloaked in shadow, a pale white hand reaching out.
"Welcome to the world of tomorrow! Come, your destiny awaits!"
"Shut up Terry, he's with me," heard Leela snap. "Save the theatre for someone who cares."
No chance of retort as she'd shove that colleague aside, soon personally led him through that facility. Much of it nondescript at first impression, then the shivers to intensify as she'd twist a knob toward some office—cryotubes, five a side, for an odd connection to start stirring.
"Hey, s'cuse me for asking, but might you know where these folks keep any records of anybody?"
"Nah, mighta moved 'em by now. Hey, are you okay? You've been all a quiver since we—"
"No, I'm not okay. Haven't been for years. Now less so for really knowing I don't belong here, and never will."
"Sucks to hear that, for sure, but what's it got to do with all this?"
"Answers, if anything. Was thinkin' I'd go in and you'd—"
"Lemme just cut that right here. Once, wannabe Hamlet would axe me out on a date. Offered up a one-man show of our founding—quick to say no, then emphatic when he meant the 20th century."
"Chriost dean trocaire," he'd grab his chest, for copping pangs. "So this was how I'd—Umm, do you know of any good pubs?"
"Let's just wait 'till we get home, see what you say then."
Half a shrug given, "Very well, now why are we here besides THAT heart attack?"
"After let's say a crummy exit, few years bummin' round doin' odd jobs, this'd be my first true taste of steady life. Up 'til then, forced to stretch every dollar—nobody stays fresh or in fighting shape for free. Was called 1B-DI, least for a couple of years."
As they'd look around, found themselves at the other's side, "A life I was granted from the get-go, yet don't deserve these days."
"Many days felt the same way, 'till one morning, caught a Supernova to the face."
"Holy—what can't you survive?"
Empty desk nearby, where she'd take a seat, "Just our local paper, relax. Must've been fate though, for I'd peel off a full-page ad from Cardinal Point, calling on civilians to grab their true purpose. Remember being driven toward the heritage I had, family I craved, so of course chased my wings there… Clocked 90-hour weeks, during my entire tenure."
"Ma'am , you oughta bottle that, make a fortune. Know I'd be first in line, rub certain errors of judgement in certain faces."
"No guarantee of that. Even to graduate top of class, be called a real credit to alien-kind, those honours and words, this keepsake I wear, would prove the only rewards. Pure nonsense of 'personnel risks', to claim they couldn't take a one-eyed woman fresh out of academy."
"Their loss, given who woulda replaced ya. Me, never held down a job, and rarely desired to search; had to apply for allowances eventually. Cruellest irony to then become clear—always was, always had been, the absolute loser."
"You might've craved a higher calling, certainly not the only one. Matter of fact, just like…"
A breath to draw out before she stood again, moved for pod forty beside the window.
"Okay, you've had trouble with names since we met—just like who?"
A fond touch all over, before they'd walk out, "Unluckiest stiff I knew—one glad and grateful to get away. Spent most of NYE, 2999, chasing him 'round this city; wanted to have his assignment over with, while he hoped to avoid being chipped as delivery boy. Turned out, as colleague then friend, he'd grow into a man much greater than that."
Through her pockets she'd rummage, soon pulling out some three-by-fours—very same from the safe to recognise immediately, even for the sizeable chunks cut out since.
"So wait—wait a minute. Why keep these photos just to defile them? Pretty sure there was—"
"You'll get why to help get this off my chest. That's my promise."
It was then they'd take a taxi ride past a few local spots, places hidden to him and yet of certain significance. The first to be O'Zorgnax's, several blocks away, where he would offer a shout.
"No chance Thomas, sorry. Just, trust me on the home thing."
Apparently, where the hide-n-seek would start, her chase continue, before it became a spot for reminiscence and weekend toasts. These days, thoughts of excess boozing to be like red cloth to her, even before it'd roar back into her life.
A silent dread over secrets kept, why he'd madden her so, as they'd drive a couple of corners and past some giant stone building. Closed up for the night he hadn't any name to make out, an innocent ignorance that, upon reveal, he would've wished to keep.
"So, if that Surge Gen bloke WASN'T just some fluke, then, that must mean I'd—"
"Between someone famous and a relative nobody, let's just say it'd take much more convincing."
Moving along, Stinky to try hiding next to nobody important, act like a head too—again, no difficulty to discover him. Backing him up, would cause quite the chaos upon the Presidents Wing, one he'd surrender over, but not enough to avoid a senseless beating from her backup.
"Dunno why, but believe I know who. Gave me quite the welcome first time we met, and I plan to pay those bastards back."
"Given where we were, I don't think you have so black a heart. Turned out, after I finally heard him out, he didn't either. To that moment, my mantra was simple, gotta do what you gotta do… What DOES one do when, in one night, they've lost their home, family, friends, and entire world?"
Sniffs to betray, and hope she didn't notice, "Drink to excess, plead for peace of mind?"
"Thankfully not, though to my recall, hadn't much to lose anyway. Neither did I, so chose to de-chip. Cue meeting our Professor, a police showdown, and an escape right on midnight—as his cyclopean Captain, with his great-to-whatever uncle, that'd be the beginning of our deliveries and adventures."
"Pfft, were it not for the crazy shit since, wouldn't have believed any of that. So, how else can my head hurt, what haven't I heard yet?"
"Any chance we can crash at your—"
"Frankly, rather'd say no. Don't think I wanna go back, not after what'd happen there."
"This time, I've got your back. Nobody's gonna take you so easily again, I guarantee it."
As he'd pat her hand in gratitude, she'd finally pay the fare and share her cream, enough to rush across the Hudson.
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If anything had hit harder than Captain's fists or fetid crabs, he hadn't found it 'till he turned his key.
"Auugghh!" collapsed back out his door. "What, how—why didn't I die wallowing in, THIS?!"
"Originally? I only had it pared down to sheer will or hatred. Either way, here's our golden chance—let's clean this crap up, and seize it with a fresh start."
"Be my guest, please, I'd rather condemn this joint."
"Can't keep running from your regrets kid. Trust me, I've tried. 'Bout time we fought 'em as one."
Detour he didn't know about, it'd seem, as with a gentle prodding, she'd pass over a squeegee and wash-bucket, then grabbed hers with firm grip. To their advantage, armfuls of tools, her obvious expertise, and especially their speed; despite all that, still wound up filthy as first nights, guzzling water to finally wipe every trace.
Was sure Leela'd take a while—deservedly so—with the shower, so would pass the time staring at his minibar. Calling out, every demon to ever linger, then follow; catalysts by the bottle inviting him to give in, have the ol' liquid laugh where he stood or sat…
Only other option, having long roared away whatever genuine mirth was left.
Tighter he'd clench, fiercer his cheeks tinged, until finally, slapped a knee and seized one—was snipping the balcony lock when he heard an actual voice.
"Whoa whoa whoa, what you plannin' on doin' with that?"
"Sendin' these where they shoulda gone. For if I don't free myself, who will?"
"Pal, even miracle doctors can't fix a dependency, and I saw you shaking. Oh sure, can sober ya like child's play, cure years of abuse as if it were nothing… But even they won't help break the cycle, nor whatever powers it."
"Maybe not, but that cycle's one of rotting in Rent-a-Dumps, of bargaining with brain and liver for those purest memories. Stories to help that helpless kid carry on. Was keepin' that bullshit up, becoming scum of the Earth, to bring me right here."
"Sounds serious. Not sure why, but get the hunch that quittin' cold ain't gonna help. Much as I get why, better we wean you off; how 'bout a couple?"
"Sorry, ain't got any glasses. Never needed 'em for—"
Off the balcony she'd leap; within a moment or two, would return with them in hand.
"Holy crap, there goes that excuse. So, what'll it be?"
"Gimme half of the highest volume you have please, no ice."
"Huh, quite the tale yourself. Look, just warning ya, I couldn't much afford the best."
"You're the barkeep. I'll leave it in those capable hands."
A click of finger rhythms as he'd inspect among what he had—labels red or black or proper, but in clear cases of caveat emptor, nothing close to recognisable. Cutting his with his favourite mixer—even half to hardly improve taste—would then fulfil and hand off Leela's order, one she'd vanish in seconds only to spit and splutter it back out.
"Blegh, ohhh Lord, that is AWFUL! And you were wasted off your ass on this? On all those?"
"Used to enjoy the real good stuff—blind rage, emphasis mine, to prevent that. Just buy, drink, forget, hope that'd work. Guess in some twisted way, it must've."
"Suurree, how exactly?"
"Because maybe, to bring up enough bile, wasn't sure I'd make it. Might've been for want of closure, that I'd choose words over a whooping. That idea to beget better ones, and now we're here."
"Ehhh, we'll go with that. Anyway, drinks are on me to reach Doohan-6 next time. In the meantime, shall we?" she'd point.
Didn't need to be told twice, to send his black swill pouring over the rail, then join his Captain in tipping his minibar into the concrete abyss, only a hollow gurgling to hear. Fresh cans of mixer—Trotter-brand cola—to instead crack open and pour, before a return right to the balcony.
"Beautiful night out there."
"Sure is, but in truth? Sooner trade that, this whole life too, to get back what I gave up."
"Even after giving mine, or nearly?"
"You heard of my A to Z's, knew of my chaos since I—"
"Wrote only half the story, Thomas. And to weigh those words against yourself, of course I'd wrestle with all that. Yet, much as I didn't see it then, I'd still bet there's a light bound to break out of ya."
"Ohhh please, as if a couple of creams could ever redeem me."
"Much closer than you realise, and from the lady who'd sooner fight than forgive? That's gotta mean something."
First time digging into first cuts, those deepest of all, to take a giant swig, then gaze her way while gripping the rail.
"Not to those who'd matter most to me," he'd sigh. "The true angels I'd condemn, allies I'd forsake… And all over four words no-one should ever hear spoken."
"Why, what happened?"
"Forget all the marks I'd stab into walls, but outside my original bedroom, believe past midnight, I'd hear through my headphones these babblings, thumps, pyjamas dragging 'cross tiles. Naturally, had to go and suss out the source."
"What'd you find?"
"A scene no son or daughter should see. Out cold, in our backyard, was a witness to Ma and Da being taken hostage. Moment I'd yell out, tried running to rescue, this great blow would fell me—as whole worlds went fuzzy, voice like ice would ask 'Their lives, or yours?'"
"What the hell COULD you have chosen?"
"Exactly, and yet, I'd believe it the obvious call. Da had done his 40th year at the Gateway, happily married to Ma for most of that. Absolutely all set, for anybody's money. Me? Was a wanderer, and a wayward one at that. So of course, not that I could clarify, I'd opt for theirs."
The rest of his Trotter to swallow without pause, grit teeth as the wounds started to sting worse.
"I wanted to believe, waking up with horrible headaches, that it was only a nightmare. You tell me, to find everything just as it was, except them. To realise your words were twisted on purpose. You tell me, when I'd have threats of arrest made clear for filing report after report. You tell me, to hear the hang-up tone after a series of words no brother should ever hear."
Body to deflate then collapse forward, erupt into a scream similar to on the street—a saving from going over, more tender touch than then, to instead return his gaze.
"One stupid choice I never wanted, to cost me everything I cared for… And you wonder why I'd end up at the bottoms of bottles, begging to forget that fuckin' night?"
A greater puff of air he hadn't heard, "I'm sorry, Thomas. I am truly sorry. Some guide out of Hell I turned out to be."
"Don't blame yourself, really. Whole life, whether in kid prisons, budding careers, or present day, you've known only screwjobs and plain crappy beings. Sure can't imagine your nightmares."
"There'll be no need from tonight. That night we met, was dreaming of original crew—no deliveries, just a side hustle of heroics. In particular, a search and rescue, and upon success, promises of good words and great fortunes."
"Who spoke of such promises, and whatever did they mean?"
"Not really sure if any of that matters now."
"Given how I'd be greeted, gotta disagree."
Caught her infamous stare, but then a shrug, "Fine, if you insist. I'd experience a breach of crew code, of friendship. One so severe that, even to expect that sorta crap, I'd read 'em the Riot Act, then condemned the bastard to that cold prison above."
Inklings of who, and ideas of the implications, to send a bout of shivers down his spine.
"And that's where I'd come in, making matters that much worse."
"So much so, was gonna condemn you as well. And even then, would wonder if that was too good. Of failures ensured, trust and faith crushed with 'em, wanted to really end that crap."
"Must've gotten so blotto, I no longer was Mayfield the man. Or so was thought anyway."
"Perhaps not, but was wrong to believe you'd ever become, HIM. Could never hold a candle to half the stuff he'd do."
"*gulp* Like what?"
"Can you settle for ideas instead of the actual story?"
Her litany of crimes worth listing—in each a fight to keep heads—to virtually bulge eyes beyond his sockets, stretch jaws to his chest. The photos to prove, this whole time, just mere teasers to the depths of depravity this bot dove for on the regular.
"How had he gotten away so long?" finally eked out. "Can't have been THAT hard up for crew, could ya?" A moment of clarity, then, to deflate yet again. "Though who am I to get on a soapbox?"
"Package deal, speaking plain truth. Thing is, Thomas, in spite of everything? I want to believe that the worst of us still have goodness in our hearts. Whether it's natural with a certain calling, or must come through an ass-kicking, that's for them to decide. How Captains get made, at times."
"And I gather Fry fit the first example, and Ben—"
"Not a name I wanna hear, pal. But yeah, sounds right. Fry hadn't much choice, for he had a habit of being an idiot. Lovable, but oh Lord, let's be real… If I didn't go beyond my role, I doubt he'd have survived his first day."
"No wonder you'd deem my acts so heinous. Gave the same lifeline, which I'd repay by screwing with yours, and doing it so liberally."
"Exactly kid. And to not even consider Amy a close friend, were on a tight leash from day one."
A hearty burp from both to note their cans' tell-tale swishing; moments later, another can each to crack open, cheer to the night. A Captain ill at ease, he'd subtly notice—sure couldn't hide any shifting, and doubted it was the Trotter to blame.
"So, would I be wrong to believe such a kinship coulda lasted a lifetime?"
"No doubt. You spend your whole youth watching kids be adopted, hearing real horrible things from whoever'd look your way… Whoever you'd look TO as well, and—"
"Just gets better and better. Like who?"
"My old master, Fnog, for one. Always lacked the will of the warrior, no matter how many or whose asses I kicked. Only his say-so to suggest your worth, allow chances to claim something worth pride."
"So no-one besides your crew to have your back, and keep it."
"And with that, story-time's over. Just as well, got a whole month's worth of cooking to—"
"You kidding? Please Leela, don't leave me on a cliff-hanger."
"When I said I'd get this off my chest, Thomas, I didn't mean right this second."
"Thought the same of my story, at least, how I'd get here. Mainly for fear of what you'd do. Won't have that issue here, rest easy."
"Comin' from the guy who'd crush my hand just last week, I—"
"Could've left me in World's End, taken my stash, began a new life? The fact that you didn't, well…"
A grinding of teeth to arch up a touch, and more so as she'd close the gap.
"Keep pushing me, and I swear I'll—"
"Oh what, twist pretzels outta my arms, make speedbags of my ball-sack? Clearly your rescue had to mean more than a mere career. If it's not what I'm sure it means, then please… Enlighten me about who the fuck else you'll turn to."
Might've been moonlight's reflection, but noticed a grip to crush cans, whiten knuckles beyond that. A sudden burst of black soda to then scream and hurl it offside, thankfully not at him or his door.
"Alright, FINE! Lemme axe you this, you've any idea how I'd discover Dr. FlimFlam?"
Only a shake of the head, "On a none too busy day, quite a while back, we'd help the chief build some budget supercollider. Toughest work back then, that'd leave Fry and myself sore all over. Our dumbass doctor to offer our first taste, courtesy of some travelling salesman—never knew then, but he'd be the catalyst to a big change, and spirals to chaos since."
"Take it you mean the discovery of powers. When would that happen?"
"Carting that Swedish crap down the city, some alley rat would confront us, gabber off some story before ordering over our wallets. Didn't believe him, but didn't matter when he'd arm his robot, and created an excuse anyway; few good shots, lasers or iron pipes woulda ripped us right apart."
"Except he'd be stopped cold each time, somehow."
"Damnedest thing. So Fry and I got to proving it wasn't any fluke, daresay farce—after we were satisfied, and tin-can made his case, we made the call to create a superhero squad."
"Not gonna lie, I've always LOVED such ideas. Maybe more so than mentally healthy, at times."
"Well it's no careless fantasy, so cram it. As the New Justice Team, we were community servants, fighters of fortune, hope in spandex and jumpsuits. Real great ride at first, to enjoy merits and sponsorships with each solved crime, but especially more to require a lesson in manners."
"Sorry, at first?"
"As we came to national attention, a serious villain, sworn enemy in time, also took notice… The Zookeeper. Before the day he'd target our Quantum Gemerald, word about town was he'd been dormant for years. Somehow, we'd send him out empty-handed, yet by and far, he'd proven our biggest test."
"Wait, even to face three superheroes at once?"
"Cunning mind, control of animals, a National Museum full of 'em. Better yet, as obvious details came to surface, soon the word was spread of our secret identities, no doubt his doing."
"Bad to worse, by all means. But given your hair and eye, how did it take so long?"
"Guess is as good as mine. Perhaps people saw only what they wanted to believe—how could I fly in space, patrol our streets, at the same time? Regardless, we'd be paid a personal work call, offered a simple trade. Get that Gemerald, or have the blood of millions on our hands, via a worldwide animal stampede. Might've taken a third option, just one issue."
"Running out of miracles?"
"What else? Bad enough our cover was blown, but to hear he'd hunt down and buy up our power sources? Beyond boned, we had to bluff that whole heist; long story short, somehow made it happen, did our trade, tied up some loose ends, then retired. Our entire standing, in one day, burnt to ashes."
"So back to being delivery crew, only… No-one dared touch Planet Express."
"Wasn't all a total disaster, yet. For starters, Fry and I spent much more time together; was planning a nightly stroll when, first time in months, got a secret home call. Blubbering plea, begging we save the 'Peruvian Spider-Fly."
"Geez, that Jeff Malcolm guy was right. Mighta mixed up names, but sure knew a thing 'bout scientists."
"Yeah, I wasn't keen on it either. Course I'd hear that cackle over cries for help, then it got personal. Damn the good words and great fortunes promised, I just wanted a piece of his captor. Turned out, was our easiest mission ever, way too easy to realise we were doomed from touchdown."
"Total hell, as you might put it?"
"The one time that's an understatement. After it became clear that 'scientist' and captor were the same, he'd sic his creatures onto us, eager to end all ties. We had a hope of escape, until Rat King—put out over our dating by then—leapt away and out of reach. Capping it off, my send-off only came via sacrifice—just as he'd often had, Fry would give his life for mine."
Her eye to then break water, as he'd drain that entire can and begin tapping the aluminium. Heart to really race now, and not just because of excess caffeine.
"I close my eyes, I still hear his violations and my sentence, see those puppy eyes pleading for a chance, feel the slam which'd cast him out forever. But the worst part of all that?"
"Oh Gods, don't tell me…"
"Guess what Fry kept inside that cabin, buried beneath that mountain of trash? Go on."
"Ohhh noooo…"
Right then her gaze to virtually bore through his head, as she'd grip every thread of his clothes she could.
"Do you FINALLY get it? Those scars for life, the want for decent crew, the hatred for your lies and lack of good faith?"
Got thrown offside, too close to rails for comfort, "Cause you'd come close to ending my truest friend in nearly THIRTY years. Just as that fat bastard had done, that metal traitor too. And what's worse, you actually HAD a family, a true loving one at that."
Had only silence, before trying to scurry out; she of course to side-step and stop him leaving.
"I'd have fought every, last, ARMY, to have that. But no, all I'm allowed are tears and screams, nightmares that the ONLY man, to love me for me, now fertilises the same ground we'd battle on."
She'd then turn back to the stars, peek over to the sidewalk; as he'd process her story, began cupping his eyes then mouth. Just as she'd shiver and start to well up, so would he—perhaps the biggest breakthrough yet, as runners tapped against boots, and she turned to face him.
"How come did this happen to me?"
A question he had often asked, and an immediate instinct in its place—trying to whisper comforts, would embrace her tight and cradle her head. A familiar frontier it hadn't been, but a very welcome one, even for really needing a shower by then.
"Twice the eyes, yet been so blind. Never again, no matter what's ahead."