The worst part, it was a product of your own doing. You had fallen so far and so deep, into a chasm of despair—one where your mind was not yours. Where every breath felt a spike to your chest and each turn you took was leading to a path covered in blood.
Hermes Vasilios Pearson was not a good man. He had not been faultless, nor had he claimed to be sinless. He had lived for some time now, his power allowing him to retain his youth. Within that time he became everything a simple man could only afford to think about in his limited lifetime. But, with his success, soon came his own downfall, when he lost a battle against his own self.
He had somehow put himself back together only to fall apart again, seeing the state of his beloved children. His son was beyond help. His daughter, he had tried. He had tried with her. To help her heal. To save her from her own ill will. But, she too, had been standing far too close to an edge of no return. He remembered seeing her crying at his doorstep with a small blanket in her arms "Father! I beg of you"
He had gently stroked his daughter's hair to calm her, giving her residence and protection.
He saw a small hand peek from within the blanket. A child. He picked it up gently, with the utmost care and attention and pulled back the covers to see a smiley little one, trying to grip his thumb.
When he learned of her existence, he vowed to be better. A better man for a child thrust into this world. To be there for her. To protect her. He held her in the nights, gently cooing at her as she babbled in her sleep. She had warmed his cold heart. Hearing her laughter, he swore he had never heard something so wonderful.
Despite how vile and ruthless it may sound, he had not let his daughter touch her again, afraid the woman's discombobulated mind would cause her to harm the precious little one who held his heart.
"She's mine to play with! My daughter. Father. No! Please!"
He would let her play with his ears and watch in amusement as she would make him sit down on a table far too small, with an even smaller tea cup. So when he returned home, to see his daughter's lifeless corpse, his heart dropped, he couldn't find her. Where she had gone, he hadn't had a clue. He tried searching everywhere, within his reach, outside it. Every place.
She was gone.
He had failed.
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GOTHAM CITY
FEBRUARY 2, 08:10 EST
"I DEMAND YOU COME OUT THIS INSTANT MR PEARSON!" Athena watched a young man storm into the building while security chased after him. He stopped immediately in his war path and glared at her "You!"
Her brow raised in question, nodding at security "May I help you?"
"You're the big guy's little partner huh? The one running this whole operation against me? You think I'm stupid? I hired you! I will crush you people for what you're doing—starting with that damned assistant!" He ranted, his frustration pinching on his nose as his face turned a tad shade of darker red. Athena nodded "Ah yes, forgive me for not immediately recalling who you were" His shoulders deflated. She hadn't recognised him? "Mr Bertenelli. A pleasure to see you again"
"Listen bi—"
"I suggest you control your tone, Mr Bertenelli. I would hate for something unfortunate to happen while you stand in here, speaking far too carelessly" She mused, her tone both dry and dark, clearly showing how two minutes into the conversation she was done. "You threatening me, lady?" He smirked, almost amused and she pointed to her office "Consider it a warning." She motioned to the now open door of her office "Please"
YOU ARE READING
IN THE SHADOWS ─── R. Grayson
Fanfiction'Just how far can one walk the path that has been set for them by others?' [Young justice]
