fanfic: "A Father's Choice", HoM feat. William Drake
Oh, look, another fic about an AU Bobby Drake's parents. This time it's House of M, and Bobby's dad.
title: A Father's Choice
"How could you?!" Maddie screamed at her husband. He flinched at it; she was not one to scream, usually, but she'd never been this angry before, this betrayed. And he was the betrayer.
"It was for his own protection --" he began, but she was already pointing at him aggressively.
"Do not give me that, William Drake! You turned over your only son, and now my baby is in a concentration camp!" She burst into tears, covering her face with both hands. Willie's first instinct in these instances was generally to hug her, but he thought better of it today.
"Maddie..." he said helplessly.
"Bobby is a good boy!" she insisted. "He's not a dangerous criminal like in the news!"
"He is, I know, he is, and he wouldn't harm a soul -- but we both know he's impulsive. If he saw someone needing help, or -- or had to save himself from some danger, Heaven forbid -- he might use his power and then they'd take him into custody anyway, with trouble for hiding it. Better to cooperate, Maddie, better to show he's not like these renegade mutants --!"
"No." She shook her head. "No, you're wrong. And even if he'd -- even if they'd taken him later, I would still have him here today!"
He didn't know what to say to that. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Maddie flipped her hand like she was pouring something from her palm.
"I think," she said in a despairing voice, wiping at her cheeks, "that I'd better go stay with my sister for a while."
Willie swallowed the words that threatened to choke him, and nodded. She packed quietly, kissed him on the cheek and promised to call, and then rode away in a taxi. He stared down the street long after she was gone. When he finally closed the door, he felt very old. The emptiness of the house seemed to dog his steps as he plodded up the stairs.
He went to Bobby's room. He closed the school books on the desk and picked up the dirty clothes that had missed the laundry hamper. He plucked the baseball mitt off of a chair and sat on the bed. Eventually he laid back on the red quilt to stare up at the ceiling his son used to sleep under, and admitted to himself that despite it all, he still thought he'd done the right thing.
This was not the first war to take place during his lifetime, but it might be the worst in terms of paranoia. Everyone was wondering who among those they thought they knew might secretly be a monster. It was different from worrying that your neighbour might be a Communist: that was politics, and politics could be changed. Bobby couldn't change what he was, and as foolish as it was to suspect a boy his age of come collusion with a madman over in Europe, Willie had no illusions about what would have happened. He knew his son -- Bobby wasn't a naturally secretive boy. He would have been outed somehow, and he Willie had no intention of seeing his son the victim of a neighbourhood lynch mob.
Better to be alive and angry than dead.
Right now, that was the best he could do.
title: A Father's Choice
"How could you?!" Maddie screamed at her husband. He flinched at it; she was not one to scream, usually, but she'd never been this angry before, this betrayed. And he was the betrayer.
"It was for his own protection --" he began, but she was already pointing at him aggressively.
"Do not give me that, William Drake! You turned over your only son, and now my baby is in a concentration camp!" She burst into tears, covering her face with both hands. Willie's first instinct in these instances was generally to hug her, but he thought better of it today.
"Maddie..." he said helplessly.
"Bobby is a good boy!" she insisted. "He's not a dangerous criminal like in the news!"
"He is, I know, he is, and he wouldn't harm a soul -- but we both know he's impulsive. If he saw someone needing help, or -- or had to save himself from some danger, Heaven forbid -- he might use his power and then they'd take him into custody anyway, with trouble for hiding it. Better to cooperate, Maddie, better to show he's not like these renegade mutants --!"
"No." She shook her head. "No, you're wrong. And even if he'd -- even if they'd taken him later, I would still have him here today!"
He didn't know what to say to that. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Maddie flipped her hand like she was pouring something from her palm.
"I think," she said in a despairing voice, wiping at her cheeks, "that I'd better go stay with my sister for a while."
Willie swallowed the words that threatened to choke him, and nodded. She packed quietly, kissed him on the cheek and promised to call, and then rode away in a taxi. He stared down the street long after she was gone. When he finally closed the door, he felt very old. The emptiness of the house seemed to dog his steps as he plodded up the stairs.
He went to Bobby's room. He closed the school books on the desk and picked up the dirty clothes that had missed the laundry hamper. He plucked the baseball mitt off of a chair and sat on the bed. Eventually he laid back on the red quilt to stare up at the ceiling his son used to sleep under, and admitted to himself that despite it all, he still thought he'd done the right thing.
This was not the first war to take place during his lifetime, but it might be the worst in terms of paranoia. Everyone was wondering who among those they thought they knew might secretly be a monster. It was different from worrying that your neighbour might be a Communist: that was politics, and politics could be changed. Bobby couldn't change what he was, and as foolish as it was to suspect a boy his age of come collusion with a madman over in Europe, Willie had no illusions about what would have happened. He knew his son -- Bobby wasn't a naturally secretive boy. He would have been outed somehow, and he Willie had no intention of seeing his son the victim of a neighbourhood lynch mob.
Better to be alive and angry than dead.
Right now, that was the best he could do.