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Carmen's presence was as natural as seeing geese fly overhead during fall or seeing a gull on a beach. But it still felt off now. Like a sheet of paper covering a hole in the wall, painted over just enough to look passable for a moment or two. Or like waking up to everything smothered by snow in the middle of May.
She had been gone for so long that everyone had gotten apathetic towards the lack of her. Nobody said anything when Carmen's room was eerily silent. Nobody had to point out the lack of auburn hairs randomly showing up on their clothes. Nobody had to point out the way her things just sat there, waiting for their owner to return. It was an agreed upon tragedy that stung less if they ignored it. But Carmen's return had forced them to pull their stitches and replace them, regardless of how healed the original wounds were.
Now as Carmen shifted the tides of their days to be normal again, there was a slight tinge of something. Something that was automatically questionable like a metallic taste in tap water. Her coat hung too often. Her hands were too unscathed. She was far more invested in what was ahead and now rather than her past. She seemed a bit too restless. Maybe it was the lack of purpose.
The redheads had cars but crime-busting was no longer available for the two best suited for it. But at least Shadowsan had origami and (reluctantly) mentoring Zack to stay busy. Carmen had nothing, her sense of self still shattered and the backing of being Carmen Sandiego removed. Now she's just some lady with a messed up childhood. Who needed her when ACME was finally functional? The blue coats handled everything now, arrest and interrogation and everything a law enforcement agency does. It was jarring seeing how quickly ACME cleared everything once the agency finally grew a spine.
Ivy sighed, staring at the mirror above the porcelain colored sink. Water hung from her chin, some still clinging to her bangs. She was in shorts and a white tank top, one that was obviously tired from the experiences of life. Hell, it was one of the few things she packed up from Boston. Down turned icy eyes stared back at her, a frown on the reflection's face. Her brows were ever so slightly furrowed as her stomach churned.
I've always hated change but this feels weird.
Maybe it was just the way Carmen now seemed to linger next to the front door a bit too thoughtfully before going out, maybe it was the way she seemed to be way more interested in doing sentimental things. Drawn out walks in dead–end parks, annoyingly touristy shit they all collectively dogged on until they remembered why people enjoyed it and late night drives to the middle of nowhere to look at the stars hadn't been normal. They were never a normal thing for them all to do. Until now. Because something was off.
There was always a second glance when she walked out of rooms. She didn't intend for it to be so obvious but there was always a slight downturn on her lips now. Either a frown of remorse for crimes she never got a say in or anticipatory guilt. Maybe Ivy was just reading into it too much, after all if she was forced to do half the things Carmen was, she'd constantly feel her stomach churning in disgust. If she suddenly had no purpose, no crime or cars, she'd be off too. Maybe all this was just her trying to get back into normalcy, one little thing at a time.
Or maybe she wants to leave. Think about it, this is the shit you do when you're moving and want to gather up good memories.
She felt the hairs on her arms stand up as she processed that. Carmen couldn't leave her like that, not after everything. They finally got to reunite after all those months; one or two... or six. The time barely mattered now. The void of the prior months was now patched so there was no point in reopening those wounds despite the way the seams begged to be pulled apart and dissected. Days of searching waxed into months of futile reaching for a red moon. Eventually everything waned into demoralizing acceptance of the idea they couldn't bring back their red canary.
But they did. They managed to find her again after all that time. And she'd stay this time. And once everything settled, it'd be perfect, aligned better than an eclipse in totality. She'd be happy and she'd be not alone. She wouldn't be forced to do crimes she'd personally plan to disrupt and they could enjoy being normal.
Ivy sighed, splashing a bit more lukewarm water on her face. Wrapped up in a blanket of her own thoughts, nothing was really real past her own turmoil. Not real as in—she just didn't really think. There wasn't much past her, her in the mirror and the conveyor belt of thoughts going on. She'd just wandered too far in her mind, after all why would Carmen leave her? Why did she even think that would be a possibility? Everyone could finally live caper free, doing dumb shenanigans instead of getting scraped knees from falling on concrete mid–caper.
Maybe they'd do something asinine, take a few walks just to explore, not case a joint. Maybe they could partake in the art of trying to convince Shadowsan to engross them in stories instead of giving advice for capers. Maybe they'd all fall asleep on the couch watching some movies. They'd all just get to be themselves but mundane—no—normal . Perhaps they could go do touristy stuff together without the reason being one of them was going to leave. Or just go to a park and be normal together.
Parks were nice. Maybe they could go to a park, the wind catching in their hair as they looked at each other. They could decompress except they'd never be this compressed again, crime pulled from their life like it was nothing but an off strand on a scarf. Hell, had Carmen even experienced anything like that? Life without crime lingering? The whimsy of dawdling, leaves softly crunching below her feet without those memories being tainted by large scale crime? Maybe they could sit over a cup of coffee and watch red leaves fall from trees. Autumn leaves in San Diego. They exist but autumn's better in New England... Boston was nipping at Ivy yet again, despite being a world away and behind her.
Boston wasn't home now, this was. With Carmen and Shadowsan and Zack and Player. And Carmen. A version of Carmen that seemed to be drifting out to see like an iceberg. And everyone else was stuck on their glacier, forced to wonder how exactly she'd handle the ocean. Except was she even leaving? Was this all irrational? Was the idiot in the mirror being irrational?
Carm just wants to enjoy being back and not having to do all of... that. She's catching up on all the lost time and I'm just assuming she gave up on us because I'm… me. What are the chances her immediate instinct after finally being back is to run away? And even if she does, she'd tell us.
Ivy sighed, looking at the towels hanging on the door. Everyone had their towels in their usual spot, except for Carmen. The red towel lingered farther from the others, like an isolated ghost. Ivy was definitely reading into it too much. They're just towels. But they are kinda weirdly spaced. Isn't Carmen's normally—this isn't some—they're literally just towels, towels have no meaning.
But it feels like something bad is about to happen. I guess I REALLY don't want her to leave? She can't leave, she wouldn't leave. Why am I being so weird about this?
Ivy sighed. What did she even get from clinging onto people? Living like Zack was sewn to her was a burden enough, dragged down by his struggles and her own at once. She had left everyone in Boston awhile ago, no more friends or the very limited number of people she considered family. Now it was just her, Zack, Player, Shadowsan and Carmen. Her new (primarily) found family. Really, only one of them was a consistent presence, one that whether she liked it or not was woven into her life. The others still mattered, just as important as patches on a patchwork quilt. But she was clinging to the idea of stitching on a few more red patches using carmine threads.
She seized a breath, trying to ignore the way her need to cry was growing and engulfing her like kudzu. She'd be fine, realistically. There was no rational reason for Carmen to leave. It'd be like chucking a ship in a bottle into the ocean and expecting the miniature vessel to catch a breeze good enough to get to England. Still the tides seemed to be leading towards London. Carmen was a bit more distant—for fuck's sake she's getting over having her brain scrambled. Maybe she's fine and I'm wrong. Maybe things can be normal–ish now.
Ivy sighed, huffing now as she was still tempted to sob. If her suspicion was somehow correct, what the hell would she do now? Boston was left behind on the horizon, they still owed that money. If she went back, she'd just be sending herself back to square one, trying to collect money before the mob collected her head. Still, everywhere else felt too... new. She liked San Diego but the second Carmen was gone, it didn't feel like home. Zack being there only made it feel familiar enough.
What was her life now, other than going plane to plane with the same four people? What was home if not long flights, watching Carmen and Shadowsan get tired of her and Zack's antics while Player monologued about whatever country they were going to? What would be her life if she was back to square zero and everyone but Zack left? What would be her life without anyone? No Carmen, no Player, no Shadowsan, not even Zack.
I'm lingering on this way too long, she's not leaving, nobody's leaving. Just because you're scared of people leaving doesn't mean they will.
Ivy stole another breath, noting the way she was panting. It was a matter of not crying, of avoiding those crystalline tears hitting anything. Still, she felt her face heat up and flush pastel red. Still, she felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes. Still, she felt them wander down her cheek and land below. Then more and more started to fall, the cold of her tears far too harsh against the heat of her face.
Shit. Am I really crying? Over stuff that won't even happen?
She officially lost and now it was a matter of not being heard as she leaned against the sink, fighting her urge to gasp with paced breathing. It was impressive, how much her heart stung over an event that hadn't happened yet. If she could just mourn the memory of her crime–fighting crimson era, she'd be fine. Was it wrong? Was it wrong for her to mourn tulips the second they slouched a bit? She wasn't at fault, I'm not wrong for this, I'm just...
Scared. She was just scared. She was normally the one leaving, not the one being left. Her hands shook and her tears fell faster but if there was one skill she had, it was panicking in the least noticeable way. She had to master that, first for the sake of Zack and then for the sake of capers. She sighed, looking at the distressed woman staring at her from the mirror. She'd manage. She managed the deaths of her parents and uprooting her life, she could handle one more change.
"You're fine," she mumbled. Ivy wiped away her tears, splashing cold water on her face this time. With a sigh, she wiped her eyes with her hands. "You just got yourself worked up. Carm just needs time to adjust," she mumbled.
"You're fine, really." She sighed, leaning against the door. This would be alright. Ivy sighed, looking around. Nothing had really changed. The same white sink, the same cold tile below covered by the same mat they had first gotten for this place and a similar enough Ivy staring back at her in the mirror. Just more visibly frazzled over this than she hoped.
"You know, it's what, two in the morning and I'm talking to myself about something that probably isn't going to happen—hell, knowing Carmen she'd tell us at least."
She'd tell her at least, she'd have to.
Right?