Like Father Like Son

by badjade

WARNING: Blood, violence, swearing, and death. In an Alternate Universe where Hugo grew up to be a teenager, The Batter attempted to train him in the ways of being a Purifier. However, Hugo doesn't see himself as much of a fighter. This causes a conflict to rise between the two, and a battle breaks out between father and son.

The Batter's roleplaying messages are in Italics, and Hugo's messages are in Bold.

The Batter's Puppeteer: trineunbounded on tumblr

Hugo's Puppeteer(me): badjade on tumblr

The purifier strode alongside his son, his gait somewhat more relaxed than usual, but still tense compared to what a bystander to his mission would consider a stroll. Today was an important day, as it was the day he finally believed that his son would prove his prowess in the field of Purification. They had been walking for some time in the deepest bowels of Zone 3's Sugar processing facility, the echo of empty halls sending the footfalls of a man and his boy back towards the only living things in sight. The Batter turned to Hugo, stating, in a calm tone: "The Spectres down here are by far the strongest you have faced yet, so be on your guard. There should be no Elsens down here to worry about, so feel free to go all-out. I'll be here to help if necessary, although I'm sure you'll do just fine, sport." He let a slight smile cross his face, but he quickly shook it off with a cough into his elbow. He had to stay focused: the Spectres down here were aggressive enough to make sugar-doped Elsen run in terror, so he had to pay attention, and remain focused. This could all go wrong very easily…

The red-clad boy looked up at his father, gripping a bat that he had been lent for the sole purpose of learning his ways. Hugo didn't want to become a Purifier at all; there was one difference between he and his father. He knew how to forgive and let go. He knew when to stop. His father didn't. "Okay, dad." He tried his best to smile, but it was rather forced. He didn't want to fight, and he also didn't want to let his father down. That would be more dangerous than picking a fight with any Spectre here.

He nodded as the boy strode forward, bat in hand, a momentary smile crossing The Batter's face as he went to the task of locating a suitable opponent. The boy had been somewhat stubborn in the beginning of his tutelage, but after many battles, he was finally starting to get his bearings, much to the stoic purifier's approval. The kid had potential, a combination of his Father's strength and his Mother's deep understanding of Competences, a hybrid that would make even the mightiest of Spectres nervous…but for now, the child still need training, needed guidance. As the duo made their way through the halls, a loud cry was soon heard echoing through the facility and a large Calvary Burnt came clawing around the corner, running towards them. "Get ready!" The Purifier brandished his bat, his 3 Add-ons humming alongside him. He didn't expect to see any Burnts here, he had heard that the Elsens had all fled…this was most odd…

Hugo panicked slightly and almost dropped his bat, but caught himself just in time. "You s-said there weren't any Elsens!"

"There shouldn't be, but you can take him! Go!" The Batter stared up at the oncoming beast, drawing its attention away from his son by dodging in front of it and taking a false swing at it, giving his son time to gather himself, the purifier leaving the Burnt unharmed for now, wanting to see his son deal with this threat on his own. This would be a good opportunity to see how he reacted under pressure, under the shock of surprise. Certainly, the boy had been frightened before in his training, but had always known what beings he would be facing. As much as the surprise had the Batter on edge, he was most curious to see how his son would react to this threat…

He raised the bat defensively, as if about to strike, just like he had before in his training… but he froze there, a single tear streaming down his face. "I c-can't! I can't do it!" The Burnt reminded him too much of his friends he used to have in The Room. He looked like he was still going to try until his feet moved him back slightly, scared stiff and uncomfortable.

The Burnt screeched and raised a clawed hand, prepared to strike, but was cut off by a deluge of Competences from a trio of white rings, followed by the bludgeoning blow of a steel bat, its wielder and his Add-ons making quick work of the corrupted Elsen, but not without first being dealt some decent damage from the creature. Soon, however, a father was standing next to his son, looking down at him with a slight scowl gracing his lips, even as he wiped away the remnants of a tear-streak on his son's cheek. "Any particular reason why you almost let yourself get hit back there?" His voice was steady, calm, even-toned, but anyone who knew him well by now knew when there was annoyance lacing his words…

He flinched, knowing that he had probably ruined any chances of his father being proud of him. "I c-can't… th-they used to be innocent… I can't hurt anything like that…" That wasn't the whole story, but he knew his father wouldn't understand how he felt even if he went in detail.

"Hmmm, I understand that you still see them as the Elsen we both know, but they have become Corrupt, destructive, lost. They can never return to what they once were. Just like Spectres, they must be Purified." The man's words were calm, his heart being tugged slightly by his son's stuttered, frightened words. He knew that his son had a gentle heart, but this was ridiculous. He was going to get himself, and maybe others, killed if he let himself be so influenced by his sweeter emotions like this, and perhaps even jeopardize the balance of the world if he kept this up after his training was done. Purification was about steadfastness, balance, and he was letting himself slip to far to the side of passion. Letting out a sigh, the Batter spoke again: "Come on, let's go find another one. I'll help you again, this time, if you really need it."

"D-dad, I…" He grabbed his father's arm to make him stop walking and hold still. He took a breath and prepared himself for what he was about to say. In a calmer voice than usual, he stated plainly, "I don't want to be a Purifier, dad."

"…what?" This…hadn't been entirely unexpected at the start of the boy's training. He had seemed apprehensive and unhappy at first, but why had he gone through all of this if he didn't want to pursue this path, then? Was /she/ putting him up to this? No, no, that couldn't be right, the child showed so much potential, had gotten this far…Something else was wrong, he was talking nonsense. "Hugo, relax. You're doing just fine, now let's go."

He dropped his shoulders, disappointed. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

He turned to his son, his grip on his bat tightening slightly. He really hoped that he hadn't heard what he just thought he had. "Listen, Hugo, I don't know what's wrong, but I'm not angry about you slipping up back there, you were just as startled as I was, really. You just need more practice." He placed his free hand on his son's shoulder, looking into his son's eyes…They really were so similar to his own. "You're doing fine, Hugo."

"No. You still aren't getting this." He looked down at his feet. "I just wanted to make you proud, dad… but I can't do this. I can't be you."

The Batter pulled his hand away, looking down at his son, somewhat exasperated. "Listen, I know I'm not the most loving, open guy around, and I apologize if I've been putting too much pressure on you, but I have to state my piece. Your Mother's insistence on you becoming a Guardian is, frankly, ridiculous. This world doesn't need more rulers, it needs more protectors, more active warriors who can protect it from the things that diplomacy and order can't: its Impurities, its small Corruptions. I know I haven't said this as of yet, but you have the potential to surpass me, Hugo. You could very well become a greater Purifier than I ever will be. You have such potential, don't let it go to waste in you, don't let it go to waste for the world. I know you're stronger than that, smarter than that."

"Is this about what you want or what I want?"

"This is about what is best for all of us: you, me, your mother and the world. Believe me, I love my job and everything, but I can't say that there haven't been times when I've wanted to just stop and pursue something else, but I can't do that, you wanna know why? Because, currently, I'm the only Purifier this world has, it /needs/ me, needs you. I'm sorry if it's not what you want, but not even you can escape your fate when we have the weight of the world on our shoulders." The Batter tapped his bat on his shoulder a bit, becoming more agitated by the moment, his own words somewhat spurring such emotion.

He backed up again slightly. He wasn't used to his father showing this much emotion. "I just want to make my own decisions for once. S-sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset, dad, I really didn't… this just isn't my sort of thing."

The man let out a tired sigh. "I know, Hugo, I know. You're so bright and creative, but the world calls for protection, Purification in its current state. I want you to pursue what you love, but things are not going to change until the world is Purified, which will be so much easier if you follow down my path. I know it's not what you'd choose, but think of the good you could do." He attempted to sound somewhat upbeat, but for a man such as himself, it was no easy task, and came off as more of a false, thrown-in intonation than a genuine feeling.

"Purification is /good/ for the world? B-but didn't that end up just removing everyone who's ever lived there and basically destroying it?"

The man's grip on his bat suddenly became a vice-grip, his Add-ons letting out a loud, low-pitched hum in unison, feeling the sudden change in their master. "The process of Purification deemed those beings Impure, Corrupt, a danger to the world. They needed to perish for this world to survive, Hugo. I would think that you, of all people, would know and understand that."

"But nothing survived. N-nothing…" Noticing the sudden change in his father's attitude, he quickly stopped speaking and backed away.

"If such a sacrifice was needed to bring the world to purity, then it was worth the bystanders lost. Such is the nature of this world." He noted his son's sudden silence and movement away from him and felt that all too familiar feeling clawing up inside of him, a feeling he hadn't felt in some time, but which he recognized all too well as he saw the fear in his son's eye, his eyes, that empty, burning feeling that seemed to seep into his mind from every little way-point it could latch onto…The desire to Purify.

He didn't like the fact that he detected sudden hostility and stillness from his own father. "D… dad?" He looked around, hoping he could think of an escape plan on sudden notice if anything bad were to happen. He didn't like thinking like this. He was his little boy… he had a life. A mother. A father. But instead of thinking that there was some chance that he might understand, he was envisioning his own demise at the hands of someone he used to trust.

/Don't talk to me like that/, the Batter thought as he heard his son's weak, frightened words, /don't fucking talk to me like that./ He finally had them back, had them under his wing again, was with the ones he loved, and yet, so quickly, they were acting like he was still that…that THING that had almost ended the both of them. He wasn't that man anymore, he couldn't be…the feeling, it was burning more and more in him, clawing at him more and more…The man lowered the bat on his shoulder to his side, his grip still as strong as ever, and, with his free hand, lifted his hat for a split-second, revealing his eyes for a fleeting moment before he spoke again, this time not quite so calm: "Hugo, you've grown up so much…perhaps Spectres and Burnts are beyond the true reach of your capabilities now…" The man tapped the bat against his free hand, a slight tick appearing in his movements. Everything was screaming at him, from the inside out, everything, everything around him was so wrong, so cold, so…Corrupt. "…perhaps a spar with your old man would be a better-suited challenge for you, eh?"

Panic started building up inside of him. "N-n-no, I don't want to do that!" Tears fell from his eyes again, running down his already stained cheeks. "I-I"ll listen, okay? Just p-please calm down."

The man heard his son's tearful words, and for a moment, he considered it. Yes, his son was accepting his fate…but what of his son's own decisions? What of his own desires for what he wanted his son to become? What of the world and its Impurities? As the thoughts began to back up in his mind, the desire nagging at him only fed on the backed-up thoughts, taking them as fuel for its own endeavors…The Batter strode forward a few steps, his bat again at his side, his Add-ons following his will, they were sworn to him and him alone, after all…"I know you'll listen, which is why I need you to spar with me. The moment you defeat me, you'll realize that you have the potential to become the greatest Purifier this world has ever known, and if not…You'll have proven to yourself that you are not meant for this path. So, son…" The Batter brandished his bat, getting into a battle stance: "…shall we?"

His father clearly was not hearing him, he was bent on a fight. Hugo was very frightened and didn't want to fight his dad… but he couldn't see a way out. His grip on his own bat tightened slightly, but out of defense instead of hostility.

The Add-ons were the first to move. Alpha let out a pair of ethereal, bright white chains from its surface, which lashed out at the boy. Omega remained on the sidelines, watching and waiting for the time to strike, or, more importantly, for a time to swoop in and cure its comrades of any ill effects that it they may acquire during the battle. Finally Epsilon swooped in and threw its form at the boy. Following the third Add-on's assault, the master of the trio bolted in, taking a wide, seemingly uncalculated swing at his son…

Hugo's tears became more intense, trying to protect himself from the attacks. It was unfair. He was alone, he had nobody to turn to for help. His father had three companions. He should have known that his father was going to end up trying to "Purify" him; but he didn't think of this as purification. No, he saw this as murder. Never before in his life had he felt anger, but a spark of fury lit somewhere inside of him. He was NOT going to die today, not at the hands of HIM. He never knew what it was like to be sick his whole life, to feel weak and helpless, neglected and alone with no idea when he was going to see his parents again. He had three friends, just like Hugo; but at least he actually got to SEE them when he wanted to. No, he never knew what actual loneliness felt like. With these words stirring in his head, he raised his own bat and swung with as much confidence and power he could muster. He used to like his father. Now he HATED everything about him.

The boy's swing knocked away a second strike of chains from Alpha, the Add-on forced back somewhat as the momentum of the chains was turned against it. Omega saw the move and decided to provide in its own strength to the battle, a dull grey aura lighting in the void at its center, which suddenly shot out out at the boy, a blur that seemed to dull the color around it as it passed. Epsilon attempted to swoop in again, but was pushed aside by the purifier as he went in for another attack. The feeling inside of him was crying out louder and louder, whispering to him of the beauty of the Purified Zones, of how he had been betrayed by /her/, of how the Guardians had failed, how she had failed, how he had…The Batter wasn't hesitating anymore, it was obvious that his old, crusading self had returned in full force, and this time, he desired to finish what he had started.

Fighting his father was very painful(both mentally and physically), but he would not show that, not even the blood running down his face could make him think otherwise. He would try not to shed any tears now; he wouldn't give his fath— no. He was NOT his father. He would not give this MURDERER that pleasure. Instead, his face wore the look of a man who would not give in. It was a mixture of unforgiving and cold hatred, accented by the red of his clothes and his blood, the shine of dried tears on his face. In other words, he was following in his footsteps without meaning to. He let the new found feelings run through his body and allowed a fury of attacks aim their way at The Batter.

The newborn fury of the child soon went to work, the boy's attacks finding their way towards the Add-ons first, the servants of a now unshakable master. Alpha, this time, threw itself into the fray instead of keeping some distance with its chains, but soon found its form recoiling back with a startled, shaky hum as the boy's bat found its way to its circular form, it apparently having some trouble getting itself re-organized. Omega found itself preparing another attack, but upon seeing its partner fumbling with itself, trying to get back into battle-ready position, it turned its skills to healing Alpha's apparently ailing form. Epsilon lunged in for another attack, managing to land a blow, although it was weaker than it expected, something about the boy simply not yielding completely to his assault…The Batter, however, was having no such problems, and swung his bat down towards his son anew, finding that the boy's wrath, although it reached him and registered as he caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes as he swung down, was of no concern to him currently. He would fight his opponent to the death, to Purification, or find himself lost instead…

He noticed how his add-ons were starting to weaken, which only further motivated his intentions. If The Batter had never felt loneliness before, now he would… he was aiming for the add-ons first on purpose, of course. Isolate him. Make him learn how it feels to be on your own. If anything, it was HE who needed to be Purified, not Hugo. Even though he had not been used to fighting, he felt adrenaline and rage worked as a fuel source, empowering each swing he made with the bat in his grip.

The child's true potential was starting to show through as his assault began to overpower the Add-ons, slowly but surely, as certain, it seemed, as the flow of plastic or the ashes that formed as corpses burned, becoming Sugar…Alpha swooped in the moment it was freed of its ailment, aiming straight for the child, only to find that its strength wasn't enough anymore, the child's blow causing a large crack to form in its side, the Add-on slumping to the floor, an incredibly loud, high-pitched hum escaping it, as if it were screaming out against the blackness closing in around it…Omega saw the move and floated away, behind its master, attempting to gather itself and assist its comrade. Epsilon let out a barrage of small bolts of light, all aimed at the boy, but as the burst of light cleared, it found itself face to face with the boy, its form cracking as well as it was knocked off to the side, still managing to remain floating, but shaking violently as it attempted to stay aloft. The Batter, on the other hand, was not fazed, the loss of his Add-ons proving to only increase the juggernauting desire for Purity in his mind, the audacity of the Impure being he was facing, to attack his comrades, his allies, his servants…The man let out a bellowing roar as he slammed the bat down on his son again, glaring at him from underneath his cap, a wide, brightly-toothed grin accompanying the blow…

He stood up straight, staggering as he was slightly taken aback by the grin and the hit accompanying it. "How does it feel to be alone? Not so great, is it?" He coughed into his arm and wiped blood off of his face half-heartily. "You were NEVER there for me. I was alone almost my WHOLE LIFE and you never cared."

The man soon registered the boy's words, their forms searing through his mind as he came to a halt, blood dripping from his bat as he turned to the boy, his mouth turning into a bleak scowl as his voice called out, loud, angry, yet somehow raspy, as if choked, or worn out from years of use: "I did EVERYTHING for you! Your goddamned Mother wouldn't lift a FUCKING finger to help you! I watched the world turn to Corruption, to sin and watched you teeter on the brink of DEATH! Now I see what I've done wrong, what I've missed all this time: I was fighting for people would NEVER change. Hugo, this world needs to be Purified…no matter what anyone says, no matter what you, that bitch you call a Mother or the Guardians tell you, do, or create. Accept your fate, embrace sleep, it's better than living in a world of pain…" The Batter raised his weapon again, this time charging for his son, convinced, in every fiber of his being that what he was doing was correct, the desire flowing through him agreeing all too vehemently with his decision and reasoning. Things would never change, they would never be happy, not until everything was fixed, and it never would be…best to put it to rest, put this world to rest…PUT IT ALL TO REST. PURE. IT WILL BE PURE. PUREPUREPUREEEEEEEE!

Hugo had tried to suppress his pain for this long, but now he couldn't any longer. As his father's attack collided with his side, howling in pain, he clutched the bat and staggered, almost falling. He spit blood on the ground next to him. "Don't put all the FUCKING blame on mom." Something inside him has cracked. He couldn't feel any reason to feel compassion for him... the next step was wrath. His eyes glared, tinted with rage and blood lust as he spoke. "I'm not defending her, I know she did some wrong, but I sure as hell am NOT calling you the good guy! At least she didn't try to KILL ME! I will not embrace sleep when there are people like YOU around. YOU SHOULD BE DEAD, NOT ME!" He raised the bat high and aimed it at his dad, swinging with as much force as possible.

The boy's wrath had found its foothold, had locked into place, was now primed for execution, complete, utter execution, not unlike his father...However, in this duel, the hidden potential of the boy had finally proven to outweigh his father's wrath. The sudden, shattering clang ended nearly as quickly as it had begun, its sonorous cry replaced with a metallic screech as The Batter's weapon, raised and held defensively, wrenched apart, leaving a useless, warped husk on the floor as he dropped it. His gaze locked on the fallen weapon for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his countenance for a moment, but Purity...Purity would not be halted. He was beyond words, beyond wrath, beyond thought. There was nothing left to say, nothing left for the desire to consume. If the man that had once held his son and rocked him to sleep, the man who had always complained about his wife putting too much sugar in the coffee but drank it anyway, the man who always lifted his cap slightly when he kissed his wife so that the bill wouldn't touch her face, still existed inside him it was quickly shriveling away. Too many lies, too many ignored pleas, too many tears, too many wounds, wishes and words...pure...The man's left hand clasped the bat in the boy's hand as he lunged in close, his other aiming for the boy's stomach. He was no expert in hand-to-hand combat, but a beast hungry for blood was often more frightening than any calculating assassin or formidable purifier...

Cringing as he took a blow to his stomach, he took a step back, yanking the bat so that The Batter would get his hand off of it. Using the bat wasn't enough... he could defeat him at this rate, but the injuries afterward would be harder to heal... As he thought like this, a thin white light enveloped him, slowly getting brighter, until Hugo pointed his bat like a gun toward The Batter, which shot a beam of light at him. He had no idea he had competences...

The boy stumbled back from him, the bat jerking out his hand, causing his balance to topple slightly, and, by the time he had his fists raised again, prepared to leap forward in pursuit of Purity, the boy was enveloped in a weak, but all too visible light, which slowly began to intensify. The purifier let out a growl that sounded like nothing that could be considered human, and began to charge towards the boy, believing in the infinitesimal fragment of his analytic mind that remained intact, that he would be able to close the small gap easily and throw the boy off, but soon, the boy's weapon was blocking his path, and, faster than he could have hoped to react to, a searing beam of light found its way into the flesh his chest, causing a searing pain to lodge there, his eyes temporarily blinded by the flash. He stumbled back, a pained yell escaping from him as he did so, the purifier nearly falling to his knees, but, by some miracle, or perhaps sheer consumption of his mind to this, his mission, rekindled, reborn, he remained standing, a hand flying to his chest, lapping up a small leak of blood from the rim of the area of his chest where his shirt, and, one could assume, his skin, had seared through...The thick, black fluid dripped from his fingers, a testament to just how forgone he was from what anyone could call sanity, or, perhaps, he was gripped by a sanity incomprehensible to those who had not felt its stinging, chain-like grip...

When Hugo's eyes opened after having shot a beam of light, he took an inward gasp and a step back, slightly shocked. Where his father was hit, instead of red blood, he saw a disturbing shade of black. No... he looked over at the bat still lodged in his grip. The stains lining the sides were a deep shade of red, so why was it black now? That growl The Batter emitted was in no way human. Shaking his head, he was about to plan another hit, when he felt his throat catch and he coughed into his arm. /No, not now,/ he thought. /Why do I have to go into a coughing fit now?!/ Shakily bringing up the bat in a defensive position while he coughed harshly and repeatedly into his arm, he sincerely hoped that The Batter didn't have anymore tricks up his sleeve, or he was doomed to die, but not of sickness.

The Batter let out another ragged, inhuman hiss, bounding towards his target anew, at one point losing his footing, bounding forward on all fours until he regained his balance, for a moment appearing to possess the simultaneous grace and alien swiftness of a predator, his limbs seeming to move as if by the laws that govern a predatory cat, or a stalking, enraged canine, not the man that one could have presumed him to be only mere hours before...Before long the purifier was within range of his prey, finding that it had placed its weapon across its chest in an attempt to block him. Nothing can block Purity. The Batter slammed one arm sideways into the weapon, driving himself forward on the momentum of his pursuit, hoping to exert enough force to knock his prey off its feet, and, hopefully, get the weapon away from it entirely. He succeeded partially in this endeavor, the bat warping slightly at the pressure point of his tackle, proving just how far he had lost himself from humanity, appearing to feel no pain in response to the exertion, the force of the impact causing more black blood to drip from his wound. The man's breathing was course, coming and going in short gasps, as if the pain registered, but only served to feed some indomitable furnace of rage inside of him...The man straightened himself up, the slick, wet smack of a gob of black blood dropping to the ground as a low, near silent hiss escaped from him, which slowly seemed to break up into smaller, weaker increments, akin to laughing, or, perhaps, gasping for air…

Hugo's rage that had sparked moments before now entwined with a strong sense of terror and fear, his face contorted into that of shock and disbelief. As much as his hatred took control, so did his will to survive. He knew at that moment something was wrong with The Batter... the look in his eye, the shade of his blood, the beast-like movements... His rage was soon fully consumed by his terror. /That's not him! THAT'S NOT MY DAD!/ His fear built up in his throat and exploded into the sound of a scream as he kicked, punched, and flailed in an attempt to get him as far away as possible.

The Batter's prey soon proved its strength anew, a balled fist finding its way to his jaw as he moved his arms forward to block the prey's other arm, which flailed with the force of a weapon, from impacting him, a blow soon followed by a swift kick to gut which caused a small spatter of black fluid to come from the purifier's mouth...and yet, the man drudged on. The Impure prey's blows were erratic, hardly well thought out, blinded by rage, but not much better could be said for the movements of the purifier himself. Taking a few stumbling steps back, the man let out a sudden roar, his hands unballing from the fists he had created to hold back the pain, this time forming them into shaking, ragged claws. He lunged at the boy anew, his senses growing not so much dull as...disconnected from the reality around him. The walls were white, the floor white, his shadow invisible to him, and his prey, the Impure one...red, red like blood in veins, red like delicious Meat, red akin to passion, that force that drives all together and all apart...prey wasn't white...Wasn't white...WASN'T WHITE! The man kicked up into the air a few feet ahead of the Impure being and slammed down into him, locking his fingers around the prey's throat as best he could, his limbs shaking from the exertion, his mouth still bleeding, his chest wound gaping, like some porthole through which one could view just what did beat inside his chest...Nothing...nothing was white, nothing in his hands was white...Pure...

Falling to the ground as he was tackled, his screaming came to a halt as he felt something grip his throat. His breathing was limited and a sound which vaguely resembled a whimper was able to escape through his gasps for breath. Still fighting for survival, he flailed and struggled under his grip, pushing and attacking at his head, but barely with any coordination. By this point it was more about staying alive as long as possible.

The purifier could feel his prey's body weakening as his clenching hands continued to hold onto the Impure one's throat, as if holding onto the last hope for Purity itself. However, the man soon found that his resolve was pushed back yet again, as a vile, Impure streak of red flitted close to left side, just outside the edge of his peripheral vision. Turning his head slightly to greet the incoming force and end it, he was greeted with a sudden shock rippling through his form, his vision becoming dazed, the feeling of thick, irregular fluid pouring down his shirt present, but not all that understandable, not capable of being registered in the midst of deluge of agony and desire in the Batter's mind...His grip loosened, his body wavering to the side, the man shaking as he attempted to keep his balance against the force of oncoming pain, pain that was there, but less felt more than perceived as a barrier, rising up higher and higher, much as his wrath was, the deep, inner desire calling out, each rising force attempting to outrace the other upward to an end where only one would tower over the other...

Hugo scrambled to get up as The Batter's balance was thrown off, desperately gasping for air after that onslaught of attacks on his throat, and quickly rose to his feet. He kicked him over to the side in an attempt to foil any attempt of getting back up and placed his foot on his chest, hoping that would keep this BEAST pinned long enough to recover his own balance. He once again gripped the bat, and this time, with a little more aim, swung downward as hard as he could, which wasn't as much as originally due to the fact that he was rather weakened, himself.

The purifier's senses were muddled, weak, yet, there was much crying out inside of him. Desire, rage, long held-back derision, disappointment, and, deep below all that screamed out in him, the desire to Purify reigning supreme, his vision blurred by white and red...there was fear. It was nothing more than a primordial, minuscule grain of sand in a vast sea, but it floated along, crying its piece...it was fear of failure, fear of weakness, fear of control, fear of freedom, fear of loss...fear of death. The infinitesimal, quickly fading voice made its last, final cry, a swift shimmer in the man's wide, human eyes-...There was no pain after that. The man's arms slumped backward from their grasp, aimed at wounds and their prey alike, his legs slumping down and to the side, no longer scrambling for balance or a foothold with which to return to the fray, his eyes...There was no sound as the being known as The Batter became Pure, no a final, weak exhalation or gasped, ponderous words. All was still, all was silent...all was white as the purifier once again became what he had been all those years ago: nothing.

Hugo tried to regulate his breathing, only focused on keeping himself up, until he looked down and felt a grim sense of guilt flood into him like a storm. The bat in his hand dropped carelessly into the ground as he fell to his knees, looking down at the body of his father. "D... dad?" He shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare. "Dad, no. Get up." He closed his eyes tightly and tightened his hands into fists. "This isn't funny anymore, dad! GET UP!" He pulled The Batter up by his shoulders and shook him slightly. "Come on..." After a minute of dead silence, he gently pulled his head in closer, almost as if caressing him, and trying to let himself cry... but his eyes refused to allow tears to flow anymore. Dread froze the boy in his place, the boy who still believed he was a child, the boy who just wanted a family... But that boy was a child no longer.