THE SOUL CAGES
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont
All characters trademark their appropriate owners
Chapter 4

Launchpad and Morgana walked to the orphanage door; Launchpad carried a box with Gosalyn's name written across it, while Morgana had a black bat-shaped briefcase. They looked behind to Gosalyn, making sure she and her suitcase were with them, then let themselves in and went to Mrs Cavanaugh's office. Gosalyn felt as if she were on autopilot as they went on; she was all too familiar with being summoned there from earlier. Then she sighed, stopping at the door.

Mrs Cavanaugh herself sighed as she saw an all too familiar face. She'd been expecting the arrival ever since following the whole series of events after Gosalyn was reorphaned, and loathed having to pull that file out of the all-too-thin section on adoptees. Still, duty called. 'Come on in, Gosalyn,' she said.

The girl who walked in seemed drained of energy, completely unlike the Gosalyn she remembered. 'How's she been?' she asked the adults, keeping her attention on the girl. She almost looked defeated.

Morgana just looked at her. 'Guess.'

Mrs Cavanaugh sighed. 'It's never easy when they have to come back.' She felt her heart sink. 'Fortunately, no-one who was with her is still here. At least it'll be a fresh start.'

'How's that a good thing?' Launchpad asked as he set the box on the desk..

'I try to crack down on it, but some kids ostracise the children who end up having to return. They sometimes call them bad luck, or defective.' She sighed. 'It's not always for something like this. More often than not it'd be a home that was just unsuitable, for some reason.' She didn't notice Morgana tense in anger at that statement. 'Gosalyn was a little rough around the edges then. It's probably a good thing others from her second stay aren't here to take advantage of it.' She handed a room key to Launchpad. 'Room 4 is where she'll be for now. Let her pick a spot to sleep in.'

'Wait. Second?' Morgana asked as Launchpad led Gosalyn out.

'Yes. She came here for a while after her parents died. She was very young then, and probably doesn't remember. Her grandfather hadn't been contacted yet; his employer said he was far too unreachable on some experiment he was running. Once they got the chance, of course, they told him to come back and get her.'

Morgana paused. 'I'm sorry,' she managed. She hadn't thought much of Gosalyn's biological family; she'd only met the fiery duckling after she'd first confronted, then dated, her adopted father.

'It's allright,' Mrs Cavanaugh said. 'Personally, I hope you and Mr McQuack succeed in readopting her, but we have to follow the law. But feel free to return to visit her.'

--

While Morgana and Mrs Cavanaugh continued, Launchpad followed Gosalyn into the dorm to set up. The route was still the same, and the room was still the same; rows of beds. She went to the one on the end automatically, and flopped on the bed.

She snorted as she looked up at the ceiling. 'Nothin' changes,' she grumbled.

Launchpad started unpacking Gosalyn's things. 'Sorry this hadda happen. Morgana and I are gonna get you back outta here.'

'Thanks, though I really meant the ceiling. I threw those crayons into the tile when I was here last time.' She pointed up; the stubs were still embeded.

Launchpad managed a weak chuckle. 'Heh, bet you'll be runnin' the place in no time.'

Gosalyn sighed. 'Probably from seniority.'

Launchpad sighed and put a hand on Gosalyn's shoulder. 'We'll get it set right, kiddo. Um, by the way ... '

'What?'

'Mind telling me where the boys' room is?'

Gosalyn sighed. 'Down the hall, third door on the right. They probably cleaned up whatever I carved there.'

'Got it, Launchpad said, and ran off.

Gosalyn waited until he left, then smiled. She didn't really like doing this, but something had to be done, and she wasn't going to stay again.

She'd convinced Launchpad and Morgana to let her help out with cooking their last dinner together, and she remembered what happenned the last time she and Launchpad had tried cooking. She made sure to make exactly the same mistakes her father had lectured her on, and encouraged Launchpad to follow the same route. The atmosphere made it easy for them to not notice she didn't eat that much, but enough to make things believable.

Quickly, she grabbed a notepad and scribbled a note, then tossed it onto her bed. After that, she emptied most of her box out onto the bed in a pile, and set it down, then closed it over herself, curled up, and waited.

When Launchpad returned, he was holding his stomach. 'Wow, maybe we shouldn't'a used five quarts 'a vinegar in the potatoes,' he mutterred, then looked around. 'Gos? Where are ya?'

Gosalyn held back the urge to answer; success depended on not being found out too soon.

Launchpad stepped closer, then bent down to grab the pad. 'Launchpad: Had to go bad too. Sorry about the vinegar. Gos,' he read. 'Huh. Maybe I ought'a wait for her to come back.'

Gosalyn gaped. She'd planned on Launchpad going back and taking the box with him, not wait for her! How could it go wrong?

--

Morgana and Mrs Cavanaugh entered the bedroom. 'Where's Gosalyn?' Mrs Cavanaugh asked.

'She said she was off to the restroom,' he answered. 'I thought I'd wait for her to get back before, well ... '

Morgana sighed. 'I know. It feels like the first time I lost my uncle.'

'What happenned to him?'

'Suicide. He wanted to sunbathe.' She shivered at the concept. 'But anyway, she's not in the girls' room. I was in there a few minutes ago.'

'Maybe we'd better call the police,' Mrs Cavanaugh said.

Finally, Gosalyn had enough. She opened the box, scowling. 'Don't call the cops, I'm here.'

The three adults reared back in shock for a second. Launchpad then cringed. 'I hope ya didn't use the box instead'a the girls' room,' he managed.

Gosalyn smacked her forehead with her palm. 'No, Launchpad,' she said, 'You were supposed to carry the box out after you saw I was gone so I could sneak back home!'

'I was? Why didn't ya tell me?'

Gosalyn tugged her hair in frustration. 'Because you were supposed to leave and take this with you so I could get outta here!'

'Gee,' Launchpad said, 'why didn't you wait till Morgana and me could say goodbye?'

Gosalyn stopped at that. She tried to remember why she didn't add that in her plan. 'Because ... well, I ... '

Morgana just hugged the girl from behind, sparing her a weak excuse. 'We wouldn't leave you without that, Gosalyn,' she said.

Launchpad joined in the embrace. 'We're family, Gos, even if the lousy judge won't admit it. We wouldn't go without wishin' ya well.'

Gosalyn didn't want to admit it, but it did feel good to have the two hugging her. She also felt a prickle on the back of her neck. 'Feels like you just stuck a spider down my shirt,' she said.

'Whoops, that was me,' Morgana said. 'Archie brought a friend home with him last night. Lemme help with that.'

'Don't bother,' Gosalyn said. 'He'll help keep me company.'

--

Darkwing sighed as he watched the scene play out. He hadn't expected Gosalyn to give up on things, but hearing what she thought would happen twisted his heart. No wonder they hadn't put him through the full features of Hell yet.

'Regrets, Darkwing?' his tormentor asked, tracing a bar of the cage that held him. 'Perhaps some post-final request you have in mind?'

'Don't they have some standards in Hell?' he griped. 'Shouldn't you be out, I dunno, schmoozing in Congress?'

'I have agents for that.' He chuckled. 'Perhaps I can arrange a slight parole.'

Darkwing beamed for a while, then frowned. 'Wait a minute. You're not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. What are you getting out of it?'

The tiger demon retreated, mock innocence on his face. 'Me? Oh, you've found me out,' he said, sighing melodramatically. 'While you're in the mortal plane, I was hoping you would do me a slight favour.'

'And what's that?'

'There's another soul that used to be ... here. I was hoping you would assist it back to where it belongs.' He smiled. 'As you're mine, you would be technically on assignment to gather souls and corrupt the gullible, all to bring power and souls to me and spread evil in the world. It's what we do, after all.'

Darkwing scowled and said, 'Who?'

'I beleive the name is Morgana Macawber,' he said. 'She does fit the classic profile. And of course there is an issue of her past. She seems so precariously balanced; I'm quite sure that a slight tip will bring her back here, where she belongs.'

Darkwing paled under his feathers, then smirked. 'Yeah. Right. She's reformed, Beelzedunce. What chance is there of her coming back down here?'

'There's you. And there's also how close she is to realising her true potential as a sorceress. But in any case, it's what's available.'

Darkwing smiled. 'Go ahead and send me back. I could set up a birthday party here for her and she'd refuse.'

The demon chuckled. 'We shall see,' he said, and Darkwing disappeared from his cage.