Duo: *breathing hard and panicky* I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this...
Kel: *flinches* ....
Sephy: *cackling* Wahahahahahah! Finally I reign supreme with angst! Angst, angst, glorious angst! *cackles and lightning booms in the background*
Kel: *flinches* ....
Duo: *faints dead away*
DISCLAIMER: They aren’t mine. They never will be mine. Suing is futile. I have no money to offer.
WARNINGS: *flinches* .... Angst, Non-con, language, revenge. *flinches* ....... Shoot me now. *hands reader the loaded gun and bares her head* Go ahead. Right between the eyes. That’s how guilty I feel about writing this. I promise it’ll be painless. *watches in disappointment as the poor freaked-out reader bolts* Shimatta... *hunches*
PAIRINGS: *clears her throat* .... OCx2. *cowers in wait for the veggies to fly* 1x2! 1x2! I swear!! *flees*
STATUS: Songfic
SONG: .... Daddy. *shivers* I don’t own the song. It makes me cry...
AUTHOR’S NOTES: I blame it all on Sephy and my brother. More on my brother. Damn you, bro!...
Daddy Dearest
Kel
Songfic, angsty...
It was raining. Large drops of ominous life-bringing liquid fell from the angry skies in huge waves of despondency and anger. Lightning flashed gaudily across the city highlights as thunder boomed in a ricochet off of tall, darkened buildings and made the largest of homes shudder under the harrowing din. It was as if finally, after so long, the dam had broken to symbolize the ending of the war and everyone’s suffering.
Not everyone’s suffering, it seemed. In the cold, dreary twilight of this late December morn, a lithe figure made a leisure path on the emptied streets of the large city. Urban began to blend into suburban as the figure walked on, head low and hands shoved deep into his pockets. It was as if he followed the dark clouds bringing such bleak weather, for all of the attention he paid to it. In truth, the small figure had an actual destination in mind.
He soon found himself in front of that same destination, facing a rather large mansion. His posture was held rigidly, almost like not even a hurricane could keep him from accomplishing his task. His eyes never strayed from dimly lit home of a well-known politician, his wife, and his two children. There was no emotion on his heart-shaped face, nor was there a usual sparkle in his dull eyes. His normally smiling lips were pressed together in a thin line of barely contained emotion, all negative and dark. His fists were held at his sides, out of his pocket then, clenched tightly until the faintest trail of red trickled quickly down his palm.
Without any show of emotional display, the lithe boy lurched forward in determination, a fanatic gleam lighting his dull eyes into eerily lit violet globes.
//Mother
Please forgive me//
The elfin faced youth didn’t pause when he reached the doorway of the large estate. Instead of making a move for the doorbell, he reached nimble fingers into his hair and took out a thin, long pointed object and began to diligently work on the small lock. With a twist, small and almost barely noticeable, the door’s lock became lax and the door easily opened for the small figure.
Not even a smile of triumph passed his thinned lips before he soundlessly took a step inside and closed the door on the rain.
//I just have to get out all my pain and suffering
Now that I am done//
The home hadn’t changed much. The pig living there didn’t like change. He didn’t like change at all. Everything was to remain as it had always been, and everything would remain as it always would be for as long as that man breathed. The small table holding the expensive vase stood in the front hallway, the color of the flowers almost exactly like it had been Back Then. The light purples and blues of the flowers matched the beautifully wall-papered barriers that made up the home. Long winding steps led up to the second story floor, where the bedrooms and study lay.
He knew where the living room was. He knew that’s where the pig was. The pig always spent an hour of each night of each week of each month in the living room, reading something. He’d be dressed as if he were almost out the door and going to a formal party. His perfect blonde hair would be parted just so. His perfect white teeth would sparkle in the light just right. It always seemed that, to everyone outside the home, he was a perfect example of the male species.
Bah. Bull _shit_.
He paused in the hallway, listening. With effortless ease he blended into the dark shadow of the hallway to watch a woman flitter by. Her face was still beautiful and young for someone so old. Her eyes were the color of true violas and her hair was medium length and swept into a delicate pony-tail. The chestnut highlights flashed from even the dim lights of the home.
The figure almost gasped, taken aback by the suddenness of the vision. Her face held worry, despair, and guilt beyond the recognition of anyone but someone who had been through the same. She clenched in her fist some papers, her pale face pinched in agony not physically felt. She passed the hallway on a wavering thoroughfare toward the den, pausing only to glance uneasily down the dark way.
The figure waited for only a second, and then he shadowed her.
//Remember I will always love you...
I'm your...
... Son//
“Daddy!” laughed the boy before launching himself into his daddy’s wide-open arms. His daddy swung him around the spacious living room as the taller one patted the other’s bottom gently, running one hand through the crew-cut hair with a fatherly frown on his face.
“Honestly, your hair grows too fast. Didn’t we have it cut about three weeks ago?” the older man rumbled in slight disapproval. The small boy shrunk back and hung his head, feeling ashamed. His daddy didn’t like boys to have long hair. Daddy said that boys weren’t meant to have long hair, and that’s why Daddy always wanted to have it cut.
“We’ll just have to make another appointment,” his father reasoned airily, picking up the small boy and looking around the large home. “Where’s your mother?”
“Visitin’ Grandma,” the five year old responded cheerfully, all shame forgotten with his father picking him up. “Maria’s in the kitchen. Mommy said Maria would stay if you didn’t want to watch me alone...”
Suddenly the man’s eyes brightened, filled with an emotion the boy couldn’t possibly recognize in his short life span. With a small, slight cork of his eyebrow he said, “Oh, I don’t think we’ll need Maria’s help. When she leaves, I can give you your surprise. Okay?”
The small child grinned in fervor before wiggling out of his father’s grasp to tell the babysitter, in a child’s way, to go take a hike. He didn’t see his daddy’s admiring smile as the older man watched the small boy romp into the kitchen to seek out the elder maid.
//Little child
Looking so pretty
Come out and play
I'll be your Daddy//
The father of the child clutched his son’s shoulder gently before leading the naive child upstairs, locking the front door in the process.
//Innocent child
Looking so sweet
Rape your mind
Dear God your flesh I reap//
“No, Daddy! I don’t like this ga–-“
There was a sound of a palm hitting flesh and a harsh growl before the sound of labored breathing and sobbing pursued.
//_You raped_
I feel dirty//
“Jem, honey, stop,” the mother urged, taking a firm hold of the boy’s scrubbing hand. She almost cried when he flinched back and jerked from her grasp, huddling in the corner of the tub. As if he were trying to hide from her, afraid she’d hurt him in some way. “Jem?... Jem, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong with you!”
But the small child refused to speak a word, blankly staring at the dripping faucet above the bathtub and watching as droplet after droplet fell to the water.
Drip. Drip. Drip...
//_It hurt_
As a child//
With shaking hands she called the police.
The arrest of Maria Swatson for the abuse of Jem Madison was made as quiet as possible in order to protect the reputation of the Madison family.
//_Tied down_
"That's a good boy."
_And fuck_
Your own child
_I scream_
No-one hears me//
Indeed, no one could hear him weep...
//_It hurt_
I'm not a liar
_My God_
Saw you watching
_Mommy, why?_
Your own child//
Choked, all the little boy could do was shake his head and repeat the same words...
“No more, no more, please, Daddy, no more...”
//Little child
Looking so pretty
Come out and play
I'll be your Daddy//
Mommy wasn’t home.
Daddy was drunk again.
Whimpering, Jem curled into a small, huddled mass before his door crept open with the barest of noises. His protection, it seemed, had irrevocably been penetrated by the one man he began to learn to hate most in the world.
//_You raped_
I feel dirty
_It hurt_
As a child//
Her son didn’t even look up from his seat at the table before mumbling, “I don’t want to get any dirtier, Momma...”
//_Tied down_
"That's a good boy."
_And fuck_
Your own child
_I scream_
No-one hears me//
With sudden emotion the small boy flung himself into his mother’s arms, weeping harsh, loud sobs as tears spilled from eyes so like hers. Jessica cuddled the boy, tears coming unwillingly to her eyes as she closed them, taking a deep breath to quell upcoming tears.
“Please, baby, tell me what’s wrong...”
Without pause, the boy told.
//_It hurt_
Not a liar
_My God_
Saw you watch
_Mommy, why?_
Your own child//
With a deep breath, Jessica came to a decision. She wouldn’t tell Daryl with Jem told her. It would brake his heart if he knew his own son had horrible nightmares of him doing terrible things to him. Meanwhile she’d look into a psychiatrist and have Jem hopefully cured of those awful nightmares.
//"I didn't touch you there."
Mommy said she didn't care
"I didn't touch you there."
That's why Momma stopped and stared//
//Innocent child
Looking so sweet
Rape your mind
And now your flesh I reap//
He went to the bathroom and gathered his toothbrush and toothpaste, all the while feeling the deep soreness inside him. The soreness had become a constant to him; every morning he woke with the reminder of what his father did and what his mother didn’t stop from happening. It brought angry tears to his eyes before he wiped them away furiously and walked out of the small room.
He left his name and who he was behind. He didn’t look back for ten years.
//_You raped_
I feel dirty
_It hurt_
As a child//
The figure stood in the shadowed entrance to the den, a cold, detached look on his face as he looked the scene on. He went unnoticed by the arguing couple, and he waited until he knew it was time to make his entry.
“It was your fault Jem ran away, wasn’t it?” the beautiful woman looking so like him accused in a hiss, throwing a sheet of paper at the ground. “I thought Jem was having nightmares when he told me about what... YOU had been doing to him. I thought Maria hexed him or something! An innocent woman is in prison because of what you did to my baby!”
The man’s carefully schooled features didn’t melt as he picked the piece of paper up and began to read. With a sudden frown, he glanced toward Jessica. “What is this?”
“A medical report,” she answered immediately, clenching her fists. “I could try to deny what you did to Jem back then, but I can’t shove it off as coincidence when Andrew begins to have the same complaints!”
Then there was silence. Finally, she held the rest of the papers toward him. “And these,” she began with a triumphant ring in her voice, “are the divorce papers and the claim of complete custody over the children. AND a lawsuit for what I found out you did to Jem.” Her voice broke. The figure quietly began to stand straighter as he reached for something in his pockets.
“You can’t do that, Jessica.”
“The hell I can’t!” she cried with enough force to tempt the heavens into thunder and lightning. Daryl Madison made a move toward the woman, a deadly intent in his angry black eyes, before a sound, small but loud, stopped him in his tracks.
The sound of a gun cocking for a shot.
//_Tied down_
“That’s a good boy.”
_And fuck_
Your own child//
Both adults immediately look upon the figure in the doorway, easily pointing his steady gun toward the politician. The figure’s hat and long, uneven bangs obscured the upper half of his face. He wore all black, except for a white collar in the likes of a priest’s habit across his neck. With a smile void of humor his tilted face lifted to reveal two glittering amethyst jewels sparkling a deep, kindling hatred.
Jessica Madison gasped, taking a step forward and stopping abruptly. “Jem?...”
With a toss of his head, his long braid swinging noticeably behind him, Duo Maxwell eyed his father with a cold smile on his lips. “I revised the jinx to fit you, _Father_,” he spat, but still with a smile. “Those that defile a Gundam pilot shall NOT live to their full term. Shinigami has come to collect.” With finality he waved his braid at him, as if trying to anger the already surprised and infuriated man. “I’ll see you in hell, Daddy Dearest.”
//_I scream_
No-one hears me
_It hurt_
As a child//
Without another word, Duo Maxwell pulled the trigger three times, sending well-aimed bullets in the groin area, the chest area, and between his eyes. The thunder drowned whatever sound the gun may have made.
There was silence. Jessica slowly came toward the boy, his head hung low after the last bullet, his gun dangling from his lax fingers. She reached out, caressing his gamin face with hesitant, soft hands. “Oh, Jem...”
“My name is Duo.” The teenager finally looked at her with eyes filled with freedom and solemnity not fitting on the ever-playful face of his. “Duo Maxwell. Jem Madison died as soon as he stepped out of these doors and onto the streets.”
Jessica Madison choked back a sob, taking his gun from his hands and wiping whatever finger prints she could on her dress. “D-duo... Will you do me a favor? One last favor...” She made a glance toward the fallen body of her husband. “Upstairs... Andrew and Alexandra’s things are packed. Will you take them with you?”
Duo turned his head slightly to look at the woman from the corner of his eyes. “You’ll trust me with them?” he asked quietly, fondling his braid while making furtive glances upstairs. “I don’t think my koibito will appreciate me showing up with two kids all of a sudden... That is, not before I’ve talked with him first. But for you...” And he smiled, a small one, but somehow filled with all of his old vigor. “Hee-chan won’t mind.”
Mother and Son hugged good-bye for the last time, right before Duo left lugging two small suit cases, a sleeping three year old on his shoulders, and the quiet, half-asleep six year old walking beside him. The storm clouds watched them, the rain stopping just in time for them to have a dry get-a-way.
“Will we ever see Mommy again?” Andrew finally asked timidly, glancing back at the dark silhouette of the woman in the doorway.
For the first time in his life, Duo looked back. “That’s her decision, sport...”
//_My God_
Saw you watching
_Mommy, WHY!?_//
“Shocking news today as police find the bodies of Daryl Madison and his wife, Jessica Madison, dead in their living room. Police state that the politician’s wife had murdered him while he read in the den. She then proceeded to kill herself after writing a suicide note. The content of the note, however, has not been revealed. More at 11:00.”
~~~~~~~~~~
OWARI
~~~~~~~~~~
Kel: *flees*
Sephy: ^_~v C&C _very_ welcome. Bahah! *contently sighs*
Duo: *flees with Kel*