Chapter Text
Carmen said she wasn’t tired.
Everyone knew that was a lie.
Team Red was sitting in a half-circle in the living room, crates and mismatched chairs forming the closest thing the warehouse had to a “sofa.” Carmen sat on one side of Ivy, Zack on the other, and Shadowsan begrudgingly perched on a low table, legs folded, like a grumpy cat pretending to supervise.
Zack was mid-story, waving his hands dramatically. “So then I totally tricked Le Chevre into thinking his goat army was actually—get this—an elite team of robotic goats programmed to spy on him!”
Shadowsan sighed. “You have an overly vivid imagination, boy.”
Ivy rolled her eyes, but Carmen chuckled weakly, or at least she tried. Then Ivy noticed something strange.
“Carm, you good? You’re white as a blizzard.” she whispered, reaching out, her hand hovering near Carmen’s arm.
Carmen opened her mouth to respond—something witty, reassuring, maybe even a joke—but the words never came. Her eyelids drooped and her body wobbled slightly before tipping sideways…
Right onto Ivy.
“CARMEN!” Ivy squeaked, trying not to crush her, but Carmen’s weight was heavier than expected. Zack froze for a second, then immediately saw an opening. He smirked and whispered to Shadowsan, “This is gold.”
Ivy’s flustered gasp was cut off by a soft, almost musical snore.
It wasn’t loud, but it was definitely there. A steady, unmistakable snore that filled the corner of the room like an alarm of both cuteness and chaos.
Ivy froze. Her face went pale. “She… she’s snoring,” she whispered.
Zack doubled over, laughter bursting out in squeaky, uncontrolled fits. “Oh my gosh! She’s actually—snoring!”
Shadowsan’s usual stoicism cracked just slightly as he leaned forward, concern shadowing his eyes. “She only does that when she’s sick,” he murmured under his breath, mostly to himself.
Ivy’s hand was still awkwardly holding Carmen up, but now her other hand went to Carmen’s forehead. Too warm. Oh no. She could feel the subtle tremor of fever.
“Zack,” Ivy hissed, trying to be serious. “Stop laughing! She’s sick! This isn’t funny!”
But Zack, of course, was halfway through inventing a new, totally hypothetical story about Carmen snoring mid-heist, and it was only getting funnier in his own head. “I mean, it’s adorable, right? Like… like a tiny little alarm for danger, but also, sleep!”
Ivy groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible.”
Shadowsan finally spoke, voice calm but sharp: “Zack. Step away from her. Now.”
Zack raised his hands in mock surrender but couldn’t resist sneaking a grin at the sight of Carmen curled up on Ivy’s lap, soft snores rising and falling like gentle waves. Her hair had come loose from its usual braid, falling around her face in soft curls, and Ivy couldn’t help but smooth it back with tentative fingers.
Carmen’s chest rose and fell, warm against Ivy, the faint rumble of her snores somehow comforting. For a second, the chaos of the warehouse—the spilled gadgets, the buzzing drones, the creaking floors—faded into quiet.
Ivy’s heart squeezed. “Carmen… please don’t get sick,” she whispered softly, almost to herself.
Shadowsan, ever the pragmatist, leaned closer to Zack. “Go fetch some water. And something light to eat. She shouldn’t be left like this.”
Zack jumped up, still grinning, but finally subdued. “Got it. Water… cookies? Soup? Chocolate…?”
“Just water first,” Ivy said firmly, though she couldn’t resist watching Carmen with a mix of worry and amusement.
As Zack darted to the makeshift kitchen, Shadowsan muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I suppose chaos comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s drones and gadgets… sometimes it’s sleeping Carmen Sandiego.”
Ivy adjusted her hold, careful not to wake her, and whispered, “You’re going to be fine. You have to be.”
And for the first time that night, the warehouse felt like a tiny, safe world, even amidst the mess, the laughter, and the inevitable next catastrophe.
Ivy poked Carmen gently on the shoulder. “Carm? Hey… wake up. You need some water.”
Nothing.
She tried nudging her a little harder. “Carm, seriously. You’re burning up.”
Still nothing. Carmen’s soft snores continued, steady and oblivious, completely ignoring the world.
Zack’s eyes widened as he watched. “Oh… oh wow. She’s out cold! Completely dead to the world!” He leaned toward Shadowsan, practically vibrating with excitement. “Shadow! Can I—can I just… prank her real quick? Just a tiny prank!”
Shadowsan’s eyebrow twitched. “Absolutely not.”
Zack’s grin faltered. “But… it’s a perfect opportunity…”
Ivy groaned, grabbing Carmen by the shoulders. “Zack, forget it. She can’t be disturbed like this. We need to take care of her.”
She braced herself, not expecting much—but to her surprise, Carmen was lighter than she imagined. As if her body had surrendered completely to sleep, Ivy could lift her with one careful arm around her back and another under her knees. Carmen’s head lolled gently against Ivy’s chest, her hair brushing Ivy’s shoulder.
“She’s… surprisingly light,” Ivy murmured, trying not to stumble.
Zack groaned dramatically. “Ivy! Don’t you see? We could—”
“Zack. No.” Ivy hissed, glaring at him as she started carrying Carmen toward the stairs. “She’s sick. No pranks. No nonsense.”
Shadowsan followed, arms crossed, his expression a perfect mix of exasperation and relief. “Wise choice, Ivy. One false move and I would’ve had to intervene… forcibly.”
Carmen snuggled closer against Ivy as if sensing her protectiveness, her snore softening into an almost content hum. Ivy couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips, despite the worry.
“Upstairs. Now,” Ivy muttered to herself, taking careful steps. Each creak of the warehouse floor made her wince—but Carmen didn’t stir at all. Zack trailed behind, sulking, muttering about lost “prank opportunities” and “epic stories for later,” while Shadowsan simply shook his head.
Once they reached Carmen’s room, Ivy gently laid her down on the bed, tucking the blanket around her. Her forehead was still warm, but not uncomfortably hot. Ivy pressed a hand lightly to Carmen’s cheek, brushing a stray curl back. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispered softly.
Zack peeked in from the doorway, still looking torn between mischief and concern. “She looks… so peaceful though. Like, really peaceful.”
Ivy shot him a pointed look. “And that’s exactly why she doesn’t need a prank right now.”
Shadowsan gave a rare, small nod. “Sleep heals. Let her rest. Both of you—stay out of trouble.”
Zack groaned but retreated, muttering under his breath about future revenge pranks. Ivy stayed by Carmen’s side a moment longer, gently brushing her hair back and murmuring reassuringly.
Carmen, oblivious to all the chaos she had left behind in the living room, snuggled deeper into the blankets and snored again—soft, steady, completely at peace.
For the first time in hours, Ivy let herself relax, grateful she had gotten to her in time. The warehouse could be chaos incarnate, but right now, up here, it was quiet.
Ivy shifted to stand, trying to leave Carmen’s side quietly. She had errands to run—water, maybe a bit of soup—and she didn’t want to disturb the delicate peace of her friend’s deep sleep.
But as she moved, her hand brushed against something soft and warm. She froze.
Carmen’s hand.
It was still resting on hers, relaxed and unconscious, as if she had reached out without even realizing it. Ivy’s chest tightened just a little, her worry mixing with an unexpected warmth. She gently withdrew her hand, only for Carmen’s fingers to twitch slightly, tightening their unconscious hold.
Ivy sighed softly, a mix of exasperation and affection. “Great, Ivy,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re not supposed to be this… affected. It’s just… you’re stopping Zack from doing something insane. That’s it. Totally logical.”
She paused, staring down at Carmen’s peaceful face. The soft rise and fall of her chest, the gentle rhythm of her snoring—it was oddly comforting.
Ivy’s practical side lost the argument almost immediately. With a quiet huff, she lowered herself carefully onto the edge of the bed, making sure not to crowd Carmen. She tucked her legs up slightly, letting herself slide down until her back was against the wall, and rested her head lightly on the pillow near Carmen’s shoulder.
“Just… just to make sure Zack doesn’t do anything stupid,” Ivy whispered softly, closing her eyes. Her voice was quieter than a whisper, half to convince herself, half just for the room.
Minutes passed. Carmen’s hand shifted ever so slightly but stayed warm against Ivy’s. Ivy felt the weight of the day, the chaos of the warehouse, the endless antics of Zack and even Shadowsan’s quiet judgment—all of it fading into the background.
Before she realized it, Ivy’s eyelids grew heavy. The tension in her shoulders eased. “Fine,” she murmured, letting herself relax fully. “I’m… just keeping watch. Totally strategic.”
And in the quiet of Carmen’s room, Ivy let herself fall asleep, curled carefully so as not to crowd her friend, one hand brushing against Carmen’s, one ear catching the faint, rhythmic snore of the girl she had somehow ended up caring for so deeply.
It wasn’t romantic—or at least, that’s what Ivy told herself. It was just… logistics. Protection. Strategy.
The warehouse chaos waited downstairs, but up here, wrapped in blankets and warmth, it didn’t matter. Ivy finally let herself rest, letting the world slow down around the two of them.
Morning light filtered through the tall warehouse windows, painting the room in soft gold. Carmen’s eyes fluttered open slowly, the quiet broken only by the faint creak of the old bed and the muffled hum of the city outside.
At first, she was confused—where was she? Then she noticed the gentle weight beside her. Ivy. Curled up on the edge of the bed, soft hair falling over her face, breathing slow and even, completely asleep.
Carmen’s lips twitched into a small, fond smile. “So this is how it ends… falling asleep in my lap,” she murmured softly.
But then reality hit. Her head felt hotter than usual. Her chest was tight. She lifted a hand to her forehead—and froze. Burning up.
Before she could process it, the door creaked open a fraction. Zack crept in, tiptoeing dramatically, eyes wide with mock stealth… until he stopped dead.
Carmen’s feverish glare, Ivy asleep beside her, and the messy disheveled blankets had frozen him in place.
For a second, there was silence.
And then… a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.
“Well… well, well,” Zack whispered, leaning against the doorframe as if he hadn’t just been caught sneaking in. “Would you look at that? I knew something epic was happening, and I was not disappointed.”
Carmen groaned softly, lifting her head slightly, and let out a weak, exasperated sigh. “Zack…”
Ivy stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent, her hand twitching toward Carmen unconsciously.
Zack’s grin widened, eyes sparkling with chaotic delight. “Ohhh, this is gold! A sick Carmen AND sleeping Ivy? I… I don’t even know where to start!”
Carmen rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked into a faint smirk despite the fever. “Start… by leaving before I throw something at you.”
Zack froze for a second. Then, as any true mischief-maker, he slowly raised a hand, wiggling his fingers like he was surrendering, but the grin never left his face. “Fine… fine. I’ll behave… for now. But seriously, this is amazing. I mean… really amazing.”
Carmen sighed again, leaning back against the pillows, her body heavy and warm. She reached over instinctively to straighten Ivy’s blankets, and in the quiet of the morning, the warehouse felt both impossibly chaotic and strangely peaceful.
Zack lingered at the door, eyes darting between the two of them, clearly torn between doing something ridiculous and just… watching. Shadowsan, somewhere downstairs, probably sighed in despair at the thought of what this day would inevitably bring.
Carmen muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, “I can survive V.I.L.E. attacks… but this… this is harder than any mission.”
And for a moment, just a brief, golden moment, the chaos of Team Red—the snoring, the pranks, the scheming—paused outside their little bubble of blankets and warmth.
As soon as Zack’s voice broke the quiet, Ivy’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, processing the scene—the blankets twisted around her, Carmen looking uncharacteristically groggy, and Zack grinning like a cartoon villain at the door.
Her gaze snapped to him, sharp and instant.
“ZACK!” she hissed, voice low but deadly. Her glare could have frozen lava.
Zack’s grin faltered mid-sentence. His eyes widened as he realized his miscalculated timing. Before he could even think of an excuse—or a clever quip—he bolted, practically disappearing out the door in a blur.
Ivy sat up straighter, still glaring at the empty doorway. “Good.” she muttered, adjusting the blanket around Carmen, who stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent and warm, her fevered head nuzzling closer into the pillow.
Carmen cracked one eye open, squinting at Ivy. “What happened? Did… did Zack do something?” she asked weakly.
Ivy shook her head, brushing a stray curl from Carmen’s face. “He tried,” she said, voice tight with suppressed irritation, “but he didn’t. I made sure of it.”
Carmen let out a small, amused chuckle despite the heat in her body. “You… really are intense when someone messes with us,” she murmured, reaching out to touch Ivy’s hand briefly.
Ivy froze for half a heartbeat, then let her hand rest lightly on Carmen’s. “Yeah… well, someone has to keep the chaos contained,” she said softly, though the faint warmth in her voice betrayed how much she cared.
Carmen’s lips quirked into a tired, fevered smile. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” she whispered, closing her eyes again.
Outside the room, Zack’s frantic retreat could still be heard faintly—footsteps skittering across the creaky warehouse floors, punctuated by his dramatic mutters about “surviving Ivy’s glare” and “next time, maybe not.”
Ivy let out a small, quiet laugh, brushing a hand over Carmen’s hair. “Next time, Zack… next time, you won’t even make it to the doorway.”
Carmen’s soft snore returned, steady and calm, and Ivy settled back beside her, careful not to crowd her but not willing to leave her side just yet. The warehouse might be a mess, and the chaos outside might never end—but right here, in this quiet bubble of blankets, warmth, and unspoken care, everything felt… okay.
Carmen blinked awake, the morning sunlight streaming through the tall warehouse windows, washing the room in a soft glow. She stretched carefully, feeling the warmth of the blankets and the gentle ache from sleeping in an unusual position—but other than that, she felt surprisingly… fine.
Blinking a few times, she realized she didn’t remember much after falling asleep last night. The fever, the snoring, Ivy holding her—everything seemed fuzzy, like a half-remembered dream. She frowned slightly, trying to piece it together, but her thoughts were interrupted by a faint chorus of voices from the kitchen downstairs.
Curious, Carmen swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded quietly toward the stairs. From the top, she could see Ivy standing at the counter, gesturing wildly, while Zack leaned against the doorway with that signature mischievous grin, arms crossed.
“…and that’s why you can’t microwave soup for more than a minute without it exploding everywhere!” Ivy exclaimed, laughing despite herself.
Zack held up his hands, mock-innocent. “Hey! I said I’d only try it once. I didn’t expect that to happen! And technically, you weren’t supervising properly!”
Ivy rolled her eyes dramatically, jabbing a finger at him. “Supervising? I was busy explaining physics! Soup physics, Zack, not pranking physics!”
Carmen tilted her head, stifling a laugh. The chaos of the warehouse, the familiar bickering, the teasing—it was oddly comforting. She felt completely normal now, the fever gone, her energy slowly returning.
She took a deep breath and called down softly, “Morning, you two.”
Ivy froze mid-gesture, then spun around with a bright smile. “Carmen! You’re up!”
Zack’s grin widened instantly, practically glowing with excitement. “Finally! The patient awakens! How’s the health situation?”
Carmen smirked, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “Feeling… good. Better than I have in a while. What did I miss?”
Ivy crossed her arms, trying to act exasperated but failing miserably. “Oh, you know… just teaching Zack how to not destroy the kitchen with soup. It’s been… educational.”
Zack laughed, clearly enjoying the exaggerated severity in Ivy’s tone. “Educational for me, mostly!”
Carmen shook her head, grinning despite herself. “I should probably eat something, then. And… maybe check on the warehouse for any… disasters?”
“Too late,” Zack said dramatically, pointing toward the far corner where a stack of crates wobbled precariously. “Disasters are already in motion!”
Ivy snorted, shaking her head. “You’ll never learn, will you?”
Carmen laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the familiar chaos wash over her. Despite the fever, the awkward snoring, the close call of last night… life in the warehouse, with this ridiculous, lovable team, was exactly where she belonged.
Dinner was a mess, as usual. Plates clattered, silverware jingled, and the faint aroma of something slightly burned lingered in the air. Carmen sat at the table, still recovering her usual energy, while Ivy fussed over making sure Zack didn’t dump syrup into his cereal like he had planned yesterday.
Zack, of course, was barely containing himself. He leaned back in his chair, eyes glittering with mischief, and smirked at Carmen.
“So…” he began, slow and deliberate, letting the suspense build. “Do you… remember anything from last night?”
Carmen blinked at him, clearly wary. “No. Why?”
Zack’s grin widened, twisting into something wickedly gleeful. “Ohhh… nothing. Nothing at all,” he said, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him completely.
Before Carmen could react, Zack whipped out his phone. A few taps later, he connected it to the living room TV with a triumphant flourish. “Everyone! Living room! Now!”
Ivy groaned immediately, standing up and muttering, “I knew this would happen…” while Carmen tilted her head, both curious and wary.
“What… what are you planning, Zack?” Carmen asked, slowly following Ivy into the living room.
“Oh, you’ll see,” Zack said, practically bouncing in place like a kid about to pull the ultimate prank. “It’s… educational. And hilarious. Mostly hilarious.”
Shadowsan appeared from the hallway, one eyebrow raised. “Zack. If you so much as breathe near that TV…”
“Relax, Shadow!” Zack waved him off, ignoring the warning entirely. “I’m just… showing everyone last night’s events. The unseen footage! It’s… for posterity!”
Carmen frowned slightly, suspicion creeping in. “Unseen footage?”
Ivy groaned, shoving him lightly toward the couch. “Zack, what did you do?!”
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything,” he protested, though his grin made the lie obvious.
Carmen followed them into the living room, noticing the mischievous gleam in Zack’s eyes. Shadowsan settled onto the edge of a crate, looking like he’d already prepared himself for disaster, while Ivy plopped onto the couch, arms crossed and muttering darkly about her lack of faith in humanity.
Zack pressed “play” on his phone, and the TV flickered to life.
What appeared on the screen was… last night’s chaos in full, unedited glory. Carmen sleeping on Ivy’s lap, the soft snoring, the awkward flailing as Ivy tried not to wake her, and Zack’s commentary captured as he whispered to himself off-camera.
Carmen’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “ZACK!”
Ivy buried her face in her hands, groaning. “You’re impossible.”
Shadowsan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Children.”
And Zack? He sat back, hands behind his head, practically glowing with pride. “Best… footage… ever.”
Carmen’s face heated, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. “You are going to regret this.”
Zack just grinned wider. “Oh, I don’t think so. Not one bit.”
The warehouse erupted into a mix of laughter, groans, and playful threats, perfectly capturing the chaotic, messy, lovable life of Team Red.