Benevolent.

Despondency

Your pulse quickened just a little as you heard the lock. You turned your head to see Soviet standing there quietly.

"I didn't want anyone walking in while we.... talk."

You nodded in understanding. "I get it. A lot of people don't want anyone else to listen to their problems because they think they'll just burden them."

Sitting in the chair you pulled out for him he placed his hands on his lap. "I saw some of your awards, how did you win them? What are they for?"

You noticed he was stalling so you went with it. "Well, at least four years ago I researched the part of the brain that controls your emotions. I noticed there was an unknown stem in that part of the brain. A good friend of mine who is a neurologist studied it with me and gave me a research group that he led."

"All of us together discovered that the little stem we found holds total euphoria when triggered. While my friend had all the equipment I conducted the experiments. I found a way to set off little bits of it, helping even the most depressed person have little moments of happiness and to show they can be happy."

Soviet looked at you astounded. "Wow, that's..... amazing."

"Thank you." You grabbed a pen and paper on your nightstand. "You told me earlier that: 'not even my sons want to share a room with me.' What do you mean by this?"

He was quick to answer. "I was a good parent, maybe not the best but decent enough. Yet my children don't think so."

He seemed so nonchalant answering it. Almost as if he was bored. He must be set in his ways thinking that he was in the right, and everyone else was wrong. Yet, you need to know both sides to know who exactly is the victim here.

"I'll admit, I was bit of a drunk. Maybe a little aggressive, but I just fought wars! The children should understand, yeah?"

A distant look took up the space in his white eyes. "Never had a good relationship with my father. He tried auctioning off siblings and I, succeeded with some. They should be grateful they have father like me rather than the one I grew up with."

"They need to be grateful. I was the best father they could deal with. I protected them, so what if I had bad days?" He shrugged, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket before putting it back from the stern look you gave him.

"You know, you show no fear. Especially to my presence, I respect that."

You blinked at him, putting down your pen and awkwardly smiling at him. "Thanks, I guess?"

"But parent to parent, you are aware of how children can be ungrateful. You give them as much as you can, yet they plead for more."

As he became quiet you took a break from writing to soothe your aching hand from writing so much.

"I must admit, you were wrong to raise your hand to your child. A parent should never do that." Soviet discreetly rolled his eye, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed. "But," He arched an eyebrow, messing with the dry skin under his eyepatch.

"I see why you did. Sometimes when overloaded with emotions we see the people we love as people who are trying to fight you." You think about if that was you and Apollo.

From what Soviet claimed, he loved his kids, he tried giving them everything. If you were in his spot, would you raise your hand to Apollo?

Yet, how could you trust him?

How do you know he's telling the truth, that he genuinely loves his kids?

Or is this just some elaborate lie to get you on his side?