Cinder's Story: a Lunar Chronicles Fanfic

Chapter Twenty: Mmm... Croissants...

"Whhhaaaaaaaaaaaattt?" Said Cinder. "Get out! You had a daughter??"

She bit her lip so as not to add, "but who would want to marry you?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Yes, it's true. Shells, though born on the moon, are immune to the influence of Lunars. The queen, fearing what anyone would do while not under her spell, ordered that all of them be executed. My child and I were both Lunar, you see."

"You, a Lunar?"

Cinder took a minute to digest the idea.

"Well, at least that explains your complexion!"

He rolled his eyes.

"The moment my little Crescent Moon was discovered, she was brought out with the rest. I wouldn't dare make such a comparison between a living thing and my dead child."

Doctor D. thought a moment. "Have I emphasized the fact that she's dead enough times? She's, like, super dead. Ever since she was killed- as in, made dead- I've been working against the Lunar queen, doing everything in my power to stop the Rust from spreading, so that it can't take another life. You know, like how the life of my daughter was taken from me, because she's dead."

Cinder fingered her chin. "So, can I ask another question?"

The Doctor would've happily answered in the negative, but he was feeling generous that day.

"Niergh. Go on..."

"If you're actually Lunar," Cinder went on, "then why haven't you found the cure already? Aren't you immune to the Rust, too?"

"What makes you think I haven't already tried?"

He tugged on the cuff of his sleeve, revealing bandages where syringes had been active.

"There's no deriving a cure from Lunars, I'm afraid."

Cinder was outraged. "Then what was the point of any of this?! Why on Earth did you lie to me about something so important?? You've kept me here, under the false pretense that I could save the world!"

"You've kept yourself here voluntarily," Doctor D. pointed out, "and I allowed you to, because you're valuable. Now, because you are valuable, I am going to politely ask you to leave and never come back."

"Fine!"

Cinder hoisted herself off the medical table. "You don't want me here? I don't want to be here (after three times)! This place stinks, you stink, and so does your assistant lady! This party's a drag! I'm out!"

She stomped to the exit, only to throw a final jab.

"Your daughter would probably be somewhat disappointed in you! On more than one occasion!"

Doctor D. didn't protest when she slammed the door.

He had faced many obstacles, in pursuit of avenging his daughter on the queen's life. Now, he was tired.

"You're correct," The Doctor snarled, "she probably would be."