Ethos Code

Chapter 21 (Part 1 Finale)

14 years ago...

Mila's indoor garden was the only place in Proelium's basement headquarters where the air wasn't musty.  The floor-to-ceiling stark white walls made the colorful foliage that spread across the ground create an aroma that brought Dominik a sense of peace during the long months between publicity functions where he never saw daylight.  The day Mila first began transforming the old storage and shipment area into her own personal botanical garden was the day she taught her son the word "sanctuary". He'd kept this word between tight lips in the years since, knowing his father would snarl at the concept of him needing a space to feel safe.

"Mommy... daddy's scaring me."  The 10-year-old tells her, the hem of his shirt clenched tight in his little fists.  "He wants me to kill this lady, but I don't want to."

"Kill a lady?  Why does he want you to do that?"  She asks, stroking his hair.

"He says she's done something really terrible, but I'm scared... I don't want anyone to die, but when I tried to say no he hit me."

"Oh, Dommi... come here."  She pulls him into a hug.  "Listen to your father, ok?  Whatever it is, Maxwell has his reasons.  If he thinks someone should be killed, they must be a pretty awful person."

"But I don't know if she's a bad person, Mom."  He explains, itching the back of his neck.

"Whoa there, don't scratch at the tattoo film,"  Mila warns him.  "That'll only make it hurt more."

"But it's itchy."  He tells her, his shoulders raised and fingers wiggling in disgust.  "I want it off."

"Listen, Dommi.  I don't know why Maxwell wanted to tattoo your number on your neck but trust that his judgment is always correct.  He just wants the best for you and us and everyone all at once.  That's a lot of responsibility, right?"

"But the other four don't have to have it!"

"I'm sure once they're your age, they'll get theirs too.  10 is a big age, Dommi.  It's time to help your dad with the weight of all his responsibilities."

"Okay..." he whines.

"Your dad and I love you very much."  She tells him.  "Everything we've put you through and everything you will go through, it's all to give you a better future."

"I wanna help people in the future."  He confides, playing with a loose strand of his hair.

"Well, then you have the perfect parents to help you achieve that."

Current day...

[I can't remember the last time I cried.]

Dominik sits with his back pressed against his bedroom door.  His head hangs heavy between his knees, eyes ringed with red, and his face dampened with his own tears.  He takes a deep doubled breath in a desperate attempt to regulate his breathing, which fails, sending him back into pouring tears.  He grips either side of his head by the hair, pulling at the bunches of ash-brown locks and gritting his teeth.

[No, I can remember.  It was late Spring, and it was 2 years ago.  Although, if I'm being technical with myself, my eyes only watered, without physical tears falling.  Whether or not that counted as crying is beyond my knowledge.]  He thinks to himself.  [But one thing's for certain, if it does count, then there is a commonality between the two situations when my lacrimal gland decided to cause me to cry.  Loss.]

He takes another breath, this slower and more stable, and closes his eyes, loosening his grip on his head and dropping his hands to the floor.

[And more specifically, loss at the hands of my father.]  He reflects.  [But he always knows best, so who am I to go against his judgment?]