Agent 38: I Never Forgot You

Chapter 13: Unexpected Surprise

     The rest of the day went by slowly. Three kept falling asleep and then waking up a minute or two later, so it felt like he was drifting in and out of a haze no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Eventually, Eight declared that they had to go to sleep, so he obliged.
     Unfortunately, thoughts tormented and plagued him all night long, so he didn't really get any sleep. He kept thinking about his eye. If it went blind, that would be a major disadvantage. People would be able to use it against him, or treat him differently because he was "disabled". That wasn't something he wanted.
     He was Agent 3, Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. What use would he be if he was partly disabled?
     It wasn't the "going blind" part he was worried about. It was the "people might treat me worse because I'm different" part. They'd treat him like he was weak, like he was helpless.
     Of course, he couldn't confirm this with 100% certainty, nor could he ask anyone if it was true due to his lack of disabled friends or family. The closest thing he could think of was Eight, but did amnesia really count as a disability? Plus, the Splatoon never treated her differently because she'd proven herself to them a million times, so asking her probably wouldn't help.
     Three really didn't want to be treated differently. His mother, who was always busy, had constantly discriminated him due to his age, even though Alexander had always offered to help her with whatever she needed. She would get mad at him when he didn't help, get mad at him when he did, and he would end up getting hit and called names at the end of the day. He quite vividly remembered childhood; he didn't want it to happen again. He didn't want to feel useless.
     Three sighed and opened his eyes, rolling over to check the clock on the nightstand. It read, "4:38 A.M." He slowly slid out from under the covers, rubbing his eye, and walked towards the bathroom.
     Not like I'm getting any sleep anyway, He thought, dissapointed.
     Three stopped in front of the mirror and turned on the light, pulling down the slider to dim it.
     He looked up, gently rubbing the pad over his eye with two fingers. Ever so often the cloth had to be switched to prevent an infection, however he'd never done it. Eight always did it for him, no matter how many times he'd told her he could manage.
     Three reached behind his head and untied the knotted string that kept the pad in place. The straps fell away, but the patch didn't move.
     Slowly, Three reached up and gently tried to pull it off. A sharp jab of pain stabbed through his head the moment his skin stretched away, making him gasp in pain.
     Ow, He thought, slightly indignant. Well, THAT didn't work.
     Three sensitively edged his fingers around the tips of the patch and slowly began to pull it away. One of his fingers slipped a bit, causing a section of the patch to roughly rip away from his skin.
     "Ow, oh, frick," He whispered, biting his tongue to prevent any further, more aggressive language. "Augh, that hurt."
     Three looked back up at the mirror to check if he was bleeding or not. Thankfully, he wasn't. Well, let's try this again, I guess.
     He gradually moved the cloth off his face, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake Eight. However, this task became extremely difficult when the patch finally came off to reveal his eye.
     At first, he thought it was adjusting to the dark, given it had been covered for a while now. That is, until after a few seconds, when his vision didn't adjust, he realized.
     Three's eye had gone blind.
     Frick.
     This was the EXACT thing he DIDN'T WANT TO HAPPEN. WHY, OF ALL PEOPLE, did it HAVE to be HIM? The Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, blind in an eye and only 20 years old!
     "Stupid occupational hazard..." Three muttered. "Come on, what the heck, universe! What the shell did I ever do to you?"
     He examined his eye, which looked a bit ghastly at the moment. There was a rather concerning cut than ran straight through the middle, which made it look absolutely disgusting. His iris and pupil had been reduced to a very faded orange, a shade away from gray, though you couldn't really tell because his eye was literally sliced in half, though not all the way through. The cut wasn't deep, but the knife had hit a spot that was fatal to his sight. So even though the wound itself would eventually mend, his vision surely wouldn't. (*Disclaimer: This theory should, in no way, be taken as a real thing. I am a very dumb person who knows literally nothing about medical practices or how wounds heal, so please do not take me seriously. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.*)
     With a sigh, Three opened up a drawer and pulled out one of the pads Eight had bought for his eye. It was literally just a round cotton pad, layered several times with other ones. He also grabbed one of the elastic bands. Three looked up and set the cotton pad over his eye, then fastened it with the elastic band, tying a knot at the back of his head so it wouldn't come undone. With that, the process was over, and the light of dawn had already began to shine through the windows.
     Three walked back to the bedroom, where Eight was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed.
     "Well, you're up early." Three said. She turned and smiled at him, her black and teal eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Good morning."
     "Not as early as you," She pointed out. "What were you doing up at four in the morning?"
     "Vigilante stuff," Three joked. "You know, neighborhood crime fighter things. The usual."
     Eight laughed. "You're already a vigilante in the team, I don't think I could handle a vigilante at home, too."
     Before he could say anything, he heard his phone start to ring. Three grabbed it and looked at the screen. He didn't know the number. He answered the call, putting a hand on his hip.
     "Hello? Who is this?"
     "Is this Alexander Squidlink?" Said a female voice, sounding a bit on the older side.
     The fact that a stranger knew his name startled him. He arched his brows, hesitating.
     Eight saw the look on his face and whispered, "Who is it?"
     Three covered the edge of the phone and responded, "I don't know,"
     "Hello?" The caller said. "Hello?"
     "Yes?"
     "Can you answer my question? Are you Alexander Liam Squidlink?" This voice sounded familiar. It had a tone of sass to it, along with a bit of sarcasm and smugness.
     "Depends on who's asking."
     "Please just answer the question."
     "Maybe answer my question first," He countered, trying to turn the tables. "Who are you?"
     "Who I am isn't important." The woman said. "Who you are, however, is."
     "Answer my question and I'll answer yours. Who am I speaking to?"
     The caller sighed, a long, drawn out, raspy sigh. "Kassandra."
     The air in his body suddenly disappeared, as though all the oxygen in the area had been drawn out, as though someone had just punched him in the stomach.
     Did I hear her right?
     "I'm sorry, mi- might you repeat that again?" Three asked, squinting.
     "Kassandra Squidlink."
     The temptation to throw the phone at a wall suddenly seemed very strong.
     "Who is it?" Eight asked, confused.
     Three covered the phone again. "It's my mom."
     All was silent for a moment.
     "So, now that I've answered your question, would you be so kind as to answer mine?"
     "Yes. I am Alexander." Three uttered.
     The person on the phone was his mother. The same person who had tormented him his whole childhood, who had hated him with all her being. Now, she was here, calling him, without the curtesy of just a polite hello!
     He let his fury weigh down his voice. "What do you want?"
     "To see my son again." She responded simply.
     Now this, THIS caught him off guard. The very person who had avoided him throughout the entirety of his childhood now wanted to see him?
     "What sort of devil did you sell your soul to?" He spat. "Because the real you never would've said anything like that."
     His mother sighed. "I still live in the same place. Next Saturday, 2 P.M., got it?"
     "Wait, wha-"
     "Don't be late."
     She hung up.
     "What did she want?" Eight questioned. "You've told me stories about her before. She seemed awful. I imagine a call like this, so out of the blue and random, would probably be a bad omen of sorts."
     "My mother is a bad omen in general." Three muttered, laying down. "What could she possibly want with me?"

     *Quick Cuttlefish POV because I can and because it's essential to the story. Also this takes place a week before Eight and Three's current setting.*
     The train came to a slow, screeching halt in front of Cuttlefish. The old squid was headed back to Inkopolis due to some rather startling news. He'd recieved word from Marie that, apparently, Agent 8 had not perished. They'd discovered that she'd been sanitized, and Marie deducted that they could reverse her condition. With that being said, he was on his way back to Inkopolis to welcome her back. Agent 8 was the Octoling who'd saved his life, after all.
     Cuttlefish creakily stepped on the train. After all these years, time had finally start to wear on him. His cane tapped audibly against the metal floor, which seemed to annoy some of the passengers. Speaking of passengers, a small amount of them looked a bit like the passengers on the Deapsea Metro. They all looked a bit odd, a tad disfigured. A few Inklings and Octolings sat on the train, heads down, as if not wanting to attract attention.
     Cuttlefish walked through all the train cars until he got to the very last one. Thankfully, it was empty, and nothing but the whirs and bumps of the train could be heard.
     He set the cane down beside him, taking up a good part of the bench. He didn't really want anyone sitting next to him.
     Cuttlefish put his hands behind his head and sighed, leaning back. It had been a while since he'd actually relaxed. Back when he was still with the New Squidbeak Splatoon, he'd constantly be giving commands and orders. Now that Agent 3 was the new Captain, he could rest easy, knowing they were safe in Alexander's hands.
     An old prune like me shouldn't be commanding anything, I reckon. He thought with a light chuckle.
     He heard the doors slide open and looked up. A male Octoling walked in, head down and hands in his pockets. He wore black cargo pants and a black tee. The boy looked familiar, but not enough to the point where Cuttlefish wanted to ask who he was.
     "Is this seat taken?" The Octoling joked, pointing at the seat next to Cuttlefish. With his other hand, the boy gestured to the empty train car.
     He laughed. "Not at all, boy."
     The Octoling took a seat, pulling out his phone. Neither person said anything for a long, long moment.
     Soon, the silence grew tense, though he didn't know why.
     Cuttlefish subtly turned away from the boy, a bell ringing at the back of his head like an alarm. The Octoling looked very familiar, now that he thought about it.
     Hold on a second, Cuttlefish turned his head to look at him, and realized with a gasp that he'd seen this Octoling before. That's Gabrie-
     In a flash of silver steel, the point of a knife trembled at his neck.
     "You're gonna tell me everything you know about Alexander Squidlink, right now." Gabriel spat, grinning. "And should you tell anyone about this, your life will come to a slow, brutal end."

I finished a chapter omg
My procrastinating self never thought I could do it
Word count: 2060