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To Vector’s relief, the girl is all in one piece.
Or at least, he amends soon after, she doesn’t seem to be missing any key body parts, even after Starline’s tinkering. It’s bad enough that the Chaotix let the doctor slip through their fingers, like bloody amateurs. The crocodile wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if Belle had gotten hurt as well, sturdy that she might look from the outside.
Still, even in absence of any physical injuries, there appears to be something profoundly wrong with her – which might be understandable, considering the ordeal they just rescued her from, but Vector will be damned if there isn’t more to it. Even once Belle has cried her fill and staggered back to her feet, it’s clear that her body is being kept upright by sheer force of will, and she only protests feebly when Vector picks her up to carry her away, eventually giving up and relaxing slightly in his grasp. She must truly be exhausted, too, for after a certain point her head even lolls limply on his shoulder, like that of a discarded doll.
No. Not a doll. Thinking of her like that would mean doing her a disservice. She’s as alive as it gets, a solid weight in Vector’s arms as they make their way out, quiet and motionless though she is. A child, then – the last person he had to cart around like this was Charmy, what feels both ages past and not that long ago, and it’s oh so easy to slip back into a well-known pattern, even when it involves a clueless, strange little puppet and not the young bee he cares for so much.
And she- she really is just a kid, in truth. It’s hard to tell with robots, but she looks terribly young, even with that distant, hollow emptiness she has in her eyes right now, as if she couldn’t quite focus on anything in her line of sight. A trembling, distraught kid, with flyaway strands of hair escaping her braids and a skinny arm wrapped around Vector’s neck, worn out by a chain of events she had no control over. She might have played with Charmy and all the other brats, back when they were monitoring Eggman in Windmill Village, if the man had bothered to let her out of her box a little sooner.
It’s hard not to pity her, and not to feel even more furious at Starline’s audacity – what a brave masterplan, to kidnap a young girl and poke and prod at her as though she were a Thanksgiving turkey. Fit for a coward who spent the entirety of the Zombot epidemic lurking in Eggman’s shadow. No doubt he’ll be chuckling and gloating all the way to his real hideout, chest puffed out in pride, utterly satisfied of himself for having fooled everyone who might prevent him from conquering the world or something of the likes.
But Starline will be for Sonic to find and set to rights, now, much as it grates at Vector to acknowledge it. The Chaotix accomplished their mission, at least in part. All that’s left to do for him is ensure that Belle doesn’t have another breakdown the moment she’s set down and left to her devices.
“Do you have a place to stay?” He asks, not unkindly, though he thinks he already knows the answer. Tangle’s ramblings are often difficult to decipher, but there were some mentions of the Restoration HQ scattered here and there the last he heard, and it’s from that very place that the kid was taken, so there’s not much space left for guessing.
“Yes.” But she doesn’t sound as sure as she should, and a shadow passes over her face for a brief moment, gone as soon as she raises a hand to rub at her eyes. “I…Sort of.”
That makes Vector frown. He had thought she would be overjoyed to go back to some familiar faces, even if the situation isn’t exactly ideal, with an evil platypus scientist who’s just pored through her programming on the loose. Perhaps it’s just the adrenaline of the kidnapping finally flowing out of her system, but even that doesn’t seem all that likely. “Everything alright, kid?”
Belle nods, and her lips curl in a small smile, albeit a thin, wavering one, hardly believable by anyone really paying attention. “Yeah. It’s just- I think I might have caused everyone more trouble than I’m worth. I don’t know if they’ll take me back.”
“Nonsense. If nothing else, Tangle’s pretty stoked to see you, and she can talk circles ‘round anyone, so I don’t think you should worry about any of that.”
The girl sniffles, the glossy look returning to her eyes. “I guess.”
Vector opens his mouth to retort, then closes it almost immediately, uncertain about what he should say. There are a thousand reassurances on the tip of his tongue, each more passionate than the last – of course people will want her back. They were panicking up a storm when they heard she’d been taken. It stands to reason that there would be a spot in their fold, waiting eagerly for her return.
But somehow, none of those seem particularly convincing, especially as they’re still making their way out of that cursed lab, nothing but cold metal walls and flickering lights around them. He doesn’t know for certain what Belle might have heard in that dreary place, but it wouldn’t take a detective to notice how thoroughly those words have wrecked her, and how lifeless she seems because of it. Perhaps she dreads the thought of having to explain what she’s gone through to Tangle and Jewel and the rest, and would rather curl up on herself and forget everything about the past week for good.
Vector can sympathize with the feeling, though he doubts it’d be the right choice, in the long term. Everyone needs some respite, every now and then, and he’s pretty sure this girl hasn’t had any of that in a long time. If it were Charmy in her place, bone-tired and shaking, the crocodile would insist on bringing him home and putting him to bed, skipping the interrogation about Starline’s plans that no doubt expects Belle once they resurface.
But Belle’s not Charmy, and that’s not Vector’s place to interfere. It really is not.
Right?
“Ya know, you could always bunk with us, if you need a break.”
The words are out of his mouth before he can so much as realize he’s speaking. Belle, for her part, is as startled as he is, and raises her head slightly, blinking owlishly up at him. “What?”
Vector hesitates, shooting a glance to Espio, leading the vanguard with Charmy flitting haphazardly around his head. He’s glad that neither of them seems to have heard what he’s said, because he’s pretty much certain he’d be in for an earful from a certain chameleon about taking initiatives of that sort on his own.
Besides, he can’t very well take back his offer now that he’s voiced it aloud. Nor does he want to, he realizes suddenly, as Belle keeps staring at him, frowning in puzzlement. It seems fitting that he would ask that, now that he thinks about it- it seems, in short, the right thing to do, what should be expected from a guy like him at times like these.
He shrugs absentmindedly, though he takes care not to jostle the puppet too much. “We’ve got a couch back at the agency. You can crash there for a while, if you need to work out some stuff. Think things through, you know. ‘S not the height of comfort, but- Hell, I don’t even know if you need to sleep.”
“Sometimes,” the girl says, slowly. It’s clear that she doesn’t know what to make of his proposal, and that she’s searching his face for any sign that he might be making fun of her. “Really? But...I don’t want to bother anyone. I’ve already gotten in the way too much.”
“Wouldn’t be a bother. I doubt you’d be more of a pain than Charmy, anyway, and we’ve been keeping him around a few years now. And I don’t think you need as much food as he does- Might rake up the electricity bill a bit, sure, but we can afford that.” In truth, he’s not positive they can, but she doesn’t need to know that right now. They’ll work something out, if she accepts – they always do, one way or another, especially if it means doing good to someone else.
Still, though his joke was lame to begin with, Belle snorts softly in laughter, watery and uncertain, but more genuine than anything she’s produced in a while. “I’m solar powered, actually.”
“Splendid! See, that sorts it out. You can stay as long as you need, free of charge.”
“Are you serious?” She doesn’t sound like she believes him, which is ridiculous, truly. He would take offense, if the girl were just a little less traumatized – he’s a reptile of his word, and he’ll accept no insinuation of the contrary, no siree.
So he scoffs, shifting her in his grip so he can hold her up with only one arm and waving his free hand in a gesture of mock-outrage. “Course I am! Do I look like I’m joking?”
“But you don’t know me. Not- not well.”
“Eh, that can be fixed.” Vector takes her wooden hand, shaking it gently a couple times. It looks positively minuscule cradled in his big, meaty fingers, but he suspects that the kid must be made of stronger stuff than it appears on the outside. “’M Vector, by the way. Those loons over there are Espio and Charmy- they can get a little loud, so don’t let that scare you. And don’t let Charmy talk you into anything.”
Belle giggles- actually giggles at his antics, and though she still seems hesitant, she doesn’t flinch away from his grasp. “I’m Belle.”
“Nice to meet you, Belle. Now, you don’t have to decide right away. We gotta get you checked up, first- we don’t want you to have any loose gears in there, alright? But the offer stands. Door’s always gonna be open, if you need a hand.”
He knows he’ll have to pay for this, sooner or later. Espio’ll get on his case for his unrelenting tendency to take in strays, like as not, or maybe Jewel will put up a fit, because he’s trying to steal away a member of her precious Restoration so that he can sate whatever doubt is gnawing at his insides. Still, Vector can’t find it in himself to regret his proposal, not when there’s something within his reach that he can maybe try and fix, beside delivering it to safety and washing his hands of the whole matter.
Not when Belle looks just the tiniest bit more serene, the fog having lifted ever so slightly from her eyes. “Thank you. I- I’ll think about it.”
“Wouldn’t ask anything else of you, kid” Vector mutters, more to himself than to her, but he responds to her wobbling smile with a grin of his own, and then picks up the pace a little, eager to feel some fresh air on his face.
“Nothing else at all.”