This fic was inspired by reading "Hating a memory," a HP fanfic. I couldn't help but notice how similar Vlad and Severus were(especially after reading "A Vent Comes to Haunt") and I decided to write something similar to "Hating a memory."
I loved The Ultimate Enemy. It was one of my favorite episodes, a moment in which Vlad showed a deeper side of him not many cartoons can portray. :) One of those "what-ifs" if everyone didn't survive the explosion. A Oneshot in Vlad's perspective.
And yeah, it is awfully similar to "Hating a memory." No copying intended.
Forgive me
"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and to discover that the prisoner was you."
~Lewis B. Smedes
A dull cloudy morning stood over the outstretched, vast green fields. He stood, wearing his suit and tie, looking at the ground, as if he was in mourning. He didn't smile, nor did he frown.
"I have everything," the man said quietly. "Yet why do I still feel nothing?"
No one answered, but the man paid no heed to it, as he continued to speak as if someone here was listening.
"You're gone. I should have rejoiced. I should have been happy. I have your son, but…" he fist clenched. "I never imagined it would be like this."
The man gave a sigh. "Did you not realize my feelings for her? Did you not realize how much hatred I held for you in the last twenty years of my life? Did you not realize that I wanted a son, specifically your son, more than any other boy I could have had?"
The man's blank face suddenly turned to one of agitation. "How could you..?"
His knees collapsed, with his hands supporting himself from the grassy ground, as he glared at the dull stone. "How could you not have known your son was half-ghost? You're a ghost hunter! You're his son! You should have known!" He gave a maniacal laugh, one that would probably deserve the nickname he had.
"Why couldn't I have killed you? Why couldn't you die in some sort of foolish way? He would understand. At least then he wouldn't be pinning the blame on himself like some sort of idiotic teenager filled with angst." His voice cracked, his ten whole years of hatred, pain, and envy filling him, making his eyes glow into a dark, malice red.
"You idiot! It was so obvious! 'Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom.' There one of the SAME!" The anger held inside of his body could no longer contain him. He stood up, kicking the stone repeatedly.
"It's all your fault! I you have acted more like a parent instead of the bumbling fool you are, none of this would have happened! It wouldn't tear him up, not like this. He blames himself. No one can help him, and I have to be the one to let him remember that fact, watching him as if he was my own son!" He gives a dry, humorless laugh.
"He's a bigger fool than you, but at least you don't have to live with the guilt for the rest of your life. He has to. He WANTS to. I can't do anything! He mourns for you, he mourns for everyone, especially HER." He glared at the stone, as if expecting it to know what "her" meant.
"You idiot! You had a career, a family, and the love of your life! MY love of my life! You had everything! How dare you die in front of Daniel! How dare you!"
Gasping for breath, the man gave one last look at the stone, for once in all those twenty years of deep rage and jealousy for his friend, felt a feeling of loss and remorse. It felt as if a huge burden was out of his chest, now replaced with a small part of him forever gone in his heart.
The gravestone stood in the green, flourishing graveyard, one that showed proof that his friend had lived in Amity Park. The date was illegible, but the message was clear.
Jack Fenton
19**~ 2005
Gone, but not forgotten
"You fool…" he whispered. "It was never supposed to be like this." A small sob escaped from his lips as he turned swiftly away. His next words were a surprise, even for himself.
"Forgive me, my old friend."