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hellwurld · 10 months

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When Bagi’s eighteen, she tries to find him in America.

It’s a dumb idea, in all honesty. Bagi knows he was in a war, and Bagi knows she lost track of that war for just a second, just a stupid fucking second, and now she can’t find him again. No signs point to America, and all signs point to something terrible, something sickening, something that Bagi refuses to consider.

Bagi needs to find him, and the only place she hasn’t looked is in America.

It’s not good logic, but she’s eighteen and she’s stupid and she didn’t realize that she wasn't looking hard enough when she checked Brazil. Instead, she’s in the park of a tiny suburban town off the coast. She’s shivering, because even the best investigators in the world are stupid enough to not remember to bring a heavier coat for the heavy winters of the American northeast. Her hands tremble from where they’re attempting to be hidden from the cold in her hoodie sleeves, and she pulls the hood even farther over her head as the wind attempts to push it off again to bite at her ears. Bagi keeps her jaw clenched to hide how affected she is by the cold stinging at her lips and nose.

Bagi sits stubbornly at a wooden bench, trying to ignore the way cool moisture seeps through her pants and numbs her legs. She stares blankly into the sparse families that decorate the park, trying to think about what she can do next with no car and very little money and a legal system that will be up her ass if anyone catches on to the fact that she’s an unaccompanied, homeless Brazilian teenager roaming around with only a childhood passport allowing her to be there. Bagi startled out of her thoughts by the scream of a young boy, jumping out of the bench and whipping her head behind her instinctually.

The scream comes from an eight year old boy, running past her after a duck. He’s stumbling over himself, but he’s laughing, and the scream is pretty clearly joyful on closer inspection. It’s sweet, to be honest, and it twists the knife in Bagi’s chest.

She used to be like that. He used to be like that.

She misses him.

She knew, in theory, that she missed him. But she didn’t realize how much, how it’d burn her up from the inside, how pressure would press at the back of her eyes until she felt them burn too. She doesn’t want to cry in some poorly maintained American playground, especially not surrounded by people who will absolutely ask to call her parents or something if she gets too emotionally messy.

“Connor, stop screaming at the fucking ducks,” Bagi jumps again, her gaze whipping away from the little boy to a girl that Bagi had missed somehow. The first thing Bagi notices is that the girl looks pissed, mouth twisted into a scowl, arms crossed over her chest and hands clenched. She sounded pissed too, accent heavy and harsh, but the boy didn’t even flinch at that, still screaming nonsense at the ducks. The second thing Bagi notices is that the girl looks warm. Her hands are tucked into gloves, and her sweater looks comfortable and well-made in a way that Bagi’s never even conceptualized, let alone seen or worn before.

Bagi’s cold again, and she shivers as the girl walks behind her, past the bench she’s sat on. The girl doesn’t walk away though, just leans on the back of the other edge of the bench, scowl growing as the boy —who’s name is Connah, apparently— continued his one-sided argument with the retreating ducks. Other parents and kids start to look over at the boy, and one woman glances the girl up and down and scoffs at her. Bagi watches the girl scrunch up her face at the woman, beore cupping her hands over her mouth.

“Connor, I’m serious, quit it,” The girl yells, and Bagi winces at the volume. Bagi nearly hits herself when the girl notices her flinch, and wants to die out of embarassment when the girl smiles apologetically and pats her on the shoulder, whispering Sorry about this before going back to yelling, “You’re causing a fucking scene!”

“You’re a fucking scene!” The boy yells back, and Bagi chokes back a laugh as she watches a few mothers gasp at the kid’s language. The girl only rolls her eyes

“You’re going be the victim at a murder scene if you don’t stop right this goddamn second!” The girl yells. Bagi watches fondly as the boy turns away from the ducks, grumbling to himself and dragging his feet until he gets to the swings, where he promptly forgets all about the ducks so he can swing as high as possible. Bagi loses herself in people watching again for a moment, watching the boy laugh to himself as he jumps from the swing, rolling his way over to a group of kids where he barges into their game of hide and seek.

Bagi startles when she feels a body drop down next to her. It’s the girl, which should’ve been obvious but Bagi is still shocked despite herself.

“Sorry for that,” The girl says to Bagi, grinning like she’s not attracting the attention of every angry mother in this park, “He can be a prick.”

“It’s alright,” Bagi replies without even thinking about it, “My brother was the same way.” It’s weird how easy it was to reply. Bagi doesn’t talk to people much anymore, and she never talks about her brother. The girl’s face fell slightly when she said it, and Bagi can’t help but feel like she said something wrong, like she should apologize. It’s silly how much she doesn’t want this girl to be upset with her.

"Well, shit, I'm sorry to hear that." The girl says, shaking her head. Bagi furrows her brow in confusion. Bagi speaks English, and she speaks it pretty damn well, but sometimes she messes up. Bagi hopes that she hasn’t just broken some sort of major social taboo,

"What do you mean?" Bagi asks cautiously, and it’s now the other girl’s turn to look confused.

"I'm sorry for your loss; that's all," The girl says, like it should be obvious. The words feel like a stab to the chest, even though Bagi knows

"Oh no, he's not dead. Just missing."

“Ah,” The girl says blandly. Bagi feels like she might’ve said something wrong. She didn’t mean to, she doesn’t mean to. Bagi never means to say the wrong thing, but it happens so often. Bagi flushes, embarassed, and blinks away tears that she didn’t even know were forming. It’s just the wind, Bagi says, but she’s not convinced. She doesn’t think anyone would be.

“‘Sucks,”

Bagi blinks.

“Sorry, what?” Bagi asks, tilting her head towards the girl. The girl coughs awkwardly.

“That sucks,” The girl repeats. She pauses, before continuing, “You're close with him?”

“He’s my best friend,” Bagi admits.

“Sucks,” The girl says again, nodding her head like she’s said something especially wise.

“Sucks,” Bagi agrees, before her eyes begin to start tracking the younger boy. He’s attempting to climb up the side of the playset, in a way absolutely not intended and absolutely not safe.

“Goddamnit,” The girl mumbles under her breath, “Connor, get the fuck down from there!”

Connor grins, and the girl seems to realize her mistake a little too late, because the boy completely loosens his grip and falls off the side. The boy also seems to realize this was a little dangerous, because he panics the moment after he loses his grip on the side. He screams, and Bagi finds herself launching off the bench.

She catches him roughly in her arms. It’s not a comfortable catch, for her or for the boy, but it works. He doesn’t hit the cold, hard ground and he doesn’t hurt himself. It’s a general win, despite the way the boy flops in her arm like an almost dead fish. Bagi sets him on the ground firmly, holding out a stablizing arm and setting him right.

“Careful,” Bagi says, and the boy just looks kind of dazed. He nods at her, and then runs off to the swings. Bagi turns to the bench, and thankfully, the girl doesn’t look mad, or disgusted, or worse, suspicious. She just looks a little grateful, and a little flushed.

“Thanks,” the girl says as Bagi sits back down, as if Bagi could’ve just sat there and not helped.

“Anyone would’ve done it,” Bagi says, shrugging her off. Bagi flinches back as the girl takes her by the shoulders, hands gripping her upper arms with wild eyes.

“No, really,” The girl says, like Bagi’s done anything to actually save anyone, “We couldn’t afford him breaking anything, and I wouldn’t know how to handle it if something worse—” She cuts herself off, like she can’t even bear to think about it, and Bagi sort of gets it. Because Cellbit’s missing, and he’s been missing for a long time. Bagi knows that he’s alive, but she knows he’s been fighting and struggling and hurting, and missing little boys don’t usually live so long. But, Cellbit is alive, because he has to be.

Because Bagi can’t handle it if something worse—

“It’s just you?” Bagi asks before immediately wincing at her own bluntness. The girl just laughs, and for just a second, Bagi finds herself absorbed by the sound, obsessed with it, desperate to hear it again, desperate for it to be her that drags it out of the girl.

“Kinda,” The girl says, and Bagi blinks, coming back to reality.

Hm, Bagi thinks, That was weird.

Bagi resolutely does not think about it.

“Kinda?” Bagi asks.

“Kinda.” She’s firm about it, and Bagi knows she’s not going to get much else out of her, especially when the boy comes up to them both a few minutes later, dragging his feet and clearly exhausted. He wants to go home, and it’s clear he is not afraid to cause a scene if they are not home ten minutes ago.

She waves at them both as they leave, and the girl grins at her.

“Good luck,” Bagi thinks she says. But she’s not sure.

Bagi’s not sure why she remembers that. She does though, and it means something, because everything has to mean something.

Bagi spends a few more weeks in America. It’s a waste of her time.

One day, into her fifth week in America, while she’s watching the news, Bagi realizes that she didn’t look hard enough when she checked Brazil. She realizes that high security prisons are actually difficult to find sometimes. By the time Bagi reaches Brazil, Cellbit’s already been escaped for two weeks and he’s not even in the country anymore. Despite this, she still forces the habit of combing through every island for him, just in case he's stuck on some unsuspecting island and she misses him because she doesn't bother checking for him. She refuses to make that mistake again.

#sorry guys i love bagi and i do not CARE if this matches the canon timeline i will FORCE IT TO #also this takes palce in boston hashtag boston strong #his name being connor is a joke thats only funny to me.#qsmp #oibagi #bagi #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #.writing #cellbit #gemeos do misterio

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